Blue Ice Dying In The Rain

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Blue Ice Dying In The Rain Page 34

by Jim Craig


  Rainey Peterson, the best friend a guy like me could ever have, was standing on the ramp gaping at me in disbelief. She was wearing dark blue slacks and a white blouse and a dark fleece zippered jacket just like Native Mike. But her baseball cap said 'SECURITY' in bold gold letters. With bright blond hair pulled back into a ponytail that stuck out the back of the cap in a bouncy curl of femininity, she looked great.

  “Rainey? That can’t be you.” I stared at her in confusion.

  She grinned back at me in her Rainey way, lighting up the gloomy sky for miles around. At least that’s the way she affected me. We took each other by the hands and stood there for a moment wordlessly struggling to adjust to the shock. I almost forgot that Brandy was standing right behind me.

  When I remembered I turned and awkwardly dropped Rainey’s hands. “Brandy, you remember Rainey, don’t you?”

  She hesitated and I realized with a groan under my breath that she didn’t. Rainey jumped in to the rescue.

  “Hey, Brandy,” she piped up. “You probably weren’t here long enough to remember me through all that mess last year. I’m Rainey. I used to work at the Breeze Inn in Seward.”

  Brandy reached forward to shake her hand. “I’m sorry, Rainey. How are you? Johnny seems a little surprised to see you.”

  They smiled at each other. Something passed between them. A look, a code, Hell, I don’t know what it was, but something happened. Like one of those secret women things when they go to the restroom together.

  They glanced at me at the same time and then made eye contact with each other again and laughed. I stepped back and felt the blood rising in my face until my ears must have been glowing bright red.

  “What? What? Is there something hanging out of my nose?”

  The ticket agent walked past us up to the ferry’s main deck. A handheld radio strapped to Rainey’s belt started to squawk. She answered it and listened to a static filled voice asking her something about securing the ramp. After speaking a few words into the radio, she motioned for us to move up the gangway.

  “Come on, we’re about to cast off, “ she said herding us forward. "What are you doing here anyhow? Where's your airplane?"

  "Fogged in. Can't fly in this junk," I said waving my hand at the sky. "Listen, there's these people…"

  She held up her hand frowning at her squealing radio. "Gotta go," she said.

  “Rainey, when you get a chance I need to talk to you,” I said, but she was walking away and talking into the handset again. I don’t think she heard me.

  I glared at Brandy. "What the hell are you doing? Why are you here?"

  "Oh, lighten up, Johnny Wainwright. Somebody needed to keep their eye on you," she sparkled back at me.

  I turned on my heel and headed for the deck where I could see crew members scrambling to remove the lines holding the ferry to the dock. As guys in uniforms worked to haul the ramp aboard and stow it, I looked around to orient myself on the huge craft.

  I’d only been on ships like this a few times in my life. A couple times as a boy and then much later in the Seattle area around Puget Sound. I was always impressed with the solid feel of the metal decks and the rumbling vibrations that hummed through the enormous structure. The horn startled me again bellowing out three enormous blasts. Crew members scurried in all directions making final preparations. The Rusty Tusty was ready to sail.

  Brandy was following me but then she stepped into a passageway and headed for a restroom. I spotted Rainey moving rapidly around the stern area checking on the vehicle deck one level below us. When she headed toward the bow I caught up and walked along beside her. The sight of her was a welcome relief and felt like a cooling salve on the raw nerves of my recent frustrations. I couldn't stay mad.

  “So what the heck, girlfriend? Look at you. I remember you told me you were getting some kind of a boat gig, but I thought you were going to be a waitress or a bartender or something.”

  “Not any more. You gotta watch those assumptions,” she winked at me. “I’ve been wanting something different for a while. So I’m Security now.”

  “I see that. I’m impressed,” I said, eyeing the way she filled out her uniform. Rainey was a little taller than me which isn’t saying much, and well built which is saying plenty. They say men and women can’t be friends. Probably true. Straight men and women anyhow. That tension thing always get in the way.

  There was no ignoring the way she looked and the way her hair flipped back and forth when she let loose her hearty belly laugh. I always seemed to be able to make her laugh. I didn’t care that she was laughing at me most of the time. Watching her wide mouth twist into a big open smile with her eyes sparkling, I’d be her clown anytime.

  Rainey and I were great friends. Nothing more. She was married. Lucky bastard. So, I’m a dog, okay, I’ll admit it. But not toward Rainey. Even a hound dog can have some principles. But I’d be lying if I didn’t admit an idle thought once in a while.

  “Hey, quit looking at my ass,” she elbowed me out of my thought track.

  “Who, me? Not me. I was just admiring the high tech equipment you’re wearing on your belt there.”

  “Admiring my equipment, eh? And now you’re back together with the little heart breaker, Johnny? Johnny, Johnny,” she shook her head at me with a mocking sad smile.

  “No, no, it’s not like that at all. I had no idea she was going to show up out here. That damn Willie comes flying out here and he brought her with him.”

  “Yeah, okay. I can see there’s nothing going on at all. Right.” Her playful words danced like ice crystals on my warm flesh.

  “Look, Johnny, I’m really busy right now, but in a little while I’ll be able to visit more.”

  “Wait, Rainey. I’ve got to tell you something important. There are these people that got on in Chenega. I think they’re trouble.”

  She looked at me puzzled. “What do you mean?”

  “I don’t know exactly, but I think you should know about them just in case …”

  Her radio belched again and she raised a finger while she listened.

  “I’ve got to run. I’ll come find you and we can talk some more later, okay?”

  “Sure, no problem, I’ll be around. I need to tell you what’s been going on.”

  “Yeah, okay. It’s very strange seeing you without your airplane.” She turned to continue with her duties, but then stopped before disappearing through a hatch.

  “Oh, and Johnny? Keep it in your pants this time, please?” She grinned and nodded toward Brandy who was walking toward us down the side railing.

  I dropped my jaw in mock shock. “Yeah, of course. Good advice. Thanks, Rainey,” I said as Brandy came within hearing range. I saw the two of them exchange winks. Then Rainey rolled her eyes at me and hustled off shaking her head again.

  I knew she was remembering the long and heated discussions we’d had over the winter. Too many days of bad weather, warm beer and me whining about my bad luck with women. Even I’d grown sick of it. Now that’s a friend -- someone who’ll listen to all your crap and not suddenly need to go do their laundry.

  The vibration intensified then and the ferry began to slowly move away from the dock. The heavy smell of diesel fumes swept around us as the big engines ramped up below in the belly of the beast.

  The ferry felt solid. Loaded down with more than a hundred passengers and dozens of vehicles it didn’t feel like a ship setting sail. It felt more like a city block had just separated from the rest of town and was drifting out to sea. No sense of floating or rolling in the waves. But that was in a calm bay. I wondered if it would change once we left the Sound.

  Brandy and I stood next to each other at the railing and watched the village slide past. The few quiet houses on the hillside looked just as isolated and deserted as they had the night before. We passed the battered green skiff from Taroka lodge lying at the water's edge where it had been dragged. The tide was in and whatever secrets the old boat held were as impenetrable as the
wet black mud all around it.

  Wet air blew in our faces as the ship gained speed. The rumbling vibration blocked out all other sound. Waves of foamy salt water rushed past the side of the ship below us leaving a wide unsettled wake behind.

  I watched the surface of the bay sliding by and thought with a shiver about the missing troopers. They could be anywhere. It was creepy thinking about it. My eyes searched the rocky coastline expecting but at the same time dreading the discovery of human remains.

  The water held a gray cast that blended into the foggy airspace in the distance. My stomach cramped and I suddenly felt hungry, I turned to Brandy who was staring at the water lost in her thoughts too.

  “How about some coffee?”

  “Good idea,” she agreed. “But what about those people?”

  “I know. They’re not going anywhere and I’d just as soon keep my distance for now. Besides it’ll take us all day to reach Kodiak.”

  She nodded and we headed inside.

  As we pushed our way into the interior of the ferry I cringed at the sense of so much humanity so close. It was never a welcome feeling for me. And the noise. So many different voices, some happy, some agitated, some bitching at spouses or children, others confused and asking each other questions. Like tourists everywhere. With time on their hands and money to spend.

  I hunkered down into the collar of my jacket and pushed forward to the dining area. The smell of warm food pulled me ahead and helped me ignore the press of the other passengers. I looked behind me and noticed Brandy following. She looked comfortable and right at home. I shrugged my shoulders and told myself to relax.

  You have to share the planet with other folks, Johnny. Get used to it.

  Yeah, whatever.

  I pulled off my pack and left it at a table with my coat while we loaded two trays with coffee, eggs, toast and hash browns. My mood picked up. It felt good to sit down. I shoveled food in hungrily and washed it down with several swallows of weak coffee. I looked around for any sign of Greta or Charlie but didn’t see them.

  People were spread out throughout the large room and the air was filled with laughter, clinking utensils and the clatter of plates. Underneath it all the metal floor vibrated steadily sending a constant ripple through the soles of my shoes. But no Charlie and no Greta. And no kid named Tambourine.

  Brandy and I didn’t talk much. With my hunger pangs settled I felt restless again. I wanted to ask Greta why she changed the plan. I was playing with my spoon when a bright swath of sun swept across the table. Brandy and I looked up at each other in surprise. A murmur ran through the room as others noticed it too.

  Without a word Brandy and I grabbed our stuff and headed outside. We had to hurry to beat the herd crushing its way out of the cafeteria.

  The breeze was cool and brisk, and my eyes watered at the shock of fresh air after leaving the warm interior. We made our way to the railing and followed it forward while I fumbled through my jacket pockets and finally found my sunglasses. They were covered with dust and lint from disuse. Brandy pushed her way around me and halfway up the side of the ship she stopped and pointed into the distance.

  The ferry had moved out from underneath the blanket of fog. Blue cloudless skies stretched above us. A group of seagulls flapped and squawked in the slipstream behind the ferry. Green mountains beckoned in the distance. I recognized them as the peaks of the Sergeant Icefield where I'd flown many times.

  Turning around, I looked at the fog bank we were leaving astern. It lay heavily on the sea behind us like a dirty wet pile of rotting goose feathers. It was a ragged mass and unmoving, but sunbeams glowed at its edges and warmed the side of my face at the same time.

  “That crap could hang there like that for days,” I muttered to Brandy. She was leaning against the rail with her smiling face pointed at the sun, eyes closed behind her sunglasses.

  The sunshine was hot and dazzling. I closed my eyes against the painful brilliance and let the beams bake my face. What would I give to be away from here? Alaska's beautiful but after too many rainy days, too much fog and cold damp clouds I craved to get away. To a distant beach with warm sand under my feet and the sun heating my skin, glowing bright red against my closed eyelids. With a friendly warm body laying next to mine on a beach towel and cold bottles of beer dripping beside us. Free from the pressures of daily life. Free from the dread grinding in my gut. I tried to ignore it, but it kept jabbing me from somewhere deep inside.

  “I need to start looking around,” I said. "Why don't you stay down here."

  Turning to walk toward the stern Brandy grabbed my arm and pointed north. About a hundred yards away a massive chunk of ice floated in the open water.

  Even from our distance I could see the vivid blue colors of super compressed ice. It was an iceberg that must have recently dropped off the face of Chenega Glacier ten miles north. Its top edges were curling and melting in the sun forming strange pillar shapes with a cave like formation in between.

  “So that’s the famous ten percent?” Brandy asked.

  “Huh?”

  “The ten percent they say you see above the surface.” She looked into the water closer to us with a frown.

  “Oh, yeah, I guess so,” I answered. If we’d been above it in an airplane we could have seen the murky edges of the rest of it under water and spreading in all directions.

  "I'm going to look around with you," she said. "Four eyes are better than two."

  I rolled my eyes but knew better than to argue. We turned together to make our way to the bridge deck moving past other passengers in groups of two or three. At the top of the final stairway we found the highest deck with a tall blue smokestack planted in its middle. Just past that were the glass paneled walls of the solarium. The deck continued forward to an area with several antenna masts. I could see the rotating white head of a radar unit.

  Above us on the side of the ferry a large orange tarp was stretched across the shape of a lifeboat. I took a careful look at it and noticed the propeller of an outboard motor sticking out under the end of the tarp. My pilot brain kicked in. I nudged Brandy. When she turned to look at me I pointed to the lifeboat.

  “There’s our back door.”

  Seeing her puzzled look, I translated. “Our escape.”

  “That’s it?” she sounded concerned. “How many people will it hold?”

  “Not sure, maybe a couple dozen. I think there’s one on the other side too.”

  “And what’s the ferry hold?”

  I caught her point. “A couple hundred or so. I know, I know, not enough seats, but there are life rafts too. See those white tube things over there?”

  I pointed to the next deck down. Two pods that looked like fuel tanks were perched on a small ramp hanging on the side of the railing.

  “Life rafts in there are all set to launch if necessary.”

  “How many can they hold?”

  “I’m guessing ten or twelve each.” I watched her doing the math. “Hey, don’t worry about it. There’s life jackets for everyone.”

  “Great. What have I gotten myself into?”

  "Hey, you get no sympathy from me, brainchild. I still don't know why you're here."

  We moved into the solarium. I set my pack down on the deck and laid down beside it. I pulled off my shoes and rubbed my feet. Brandy did the same, but we didn’t have a chance to continue the discussion. Rainey came up behind us.

  “Hey, Johnny.” She knelt down beside us. “Can you guys come with me?” There was an urgency in her pretty face I’d never seen before.

  “Sure,” I said sitting up. “What’s up?”

  She glanced around the room and her voice dropped. “I can’t talk about it here. Follow me.”

  We stood up and scrambled to get back into our shoes and gather our jackets and packs. Rainey waited, but I could tell she was working hard to be patient. She was bouncing the hand held radio against her leg.

  Trying to stay calm, my mind raced through all the poss
ibilities. Something was happening. All I could do was hold it together until I learned what it was.

  CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

 

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