Blue Ice Dying In The Rain

by Jim Craig

  I must have slept for twelve hours. I wasn’t keeping track. When I finally woke up I lay there for a while until I realized I didn’t know where I was.

  Under several blankets and a sleeping bag I was warm and safe but everything I had ached. The bitter taste of panic rose in the back of my throat again when I felt the floor under me moving. It was like I was still in the raft. I fought my way out from under the pile of blankets and sat up. The walls of the little room around me were swaying slightly. I took some deep breaths and planted my feet more firmly on the floor.

  That helped. The floors and the walls settled back into their proper positions, and I realized I was on the living room couch in Willie’s trailer. At the end of a dirt road on the outskirts of Seward, his modest home sat on the bank of Salmon Creek. I could see blue sky through the dirty window. I was wearing baggy underwear that weren't mine.

  I stood up slowly and tried to remember how I got there. Nothing came to mind. I shuddered and looked down the hall, but I could tell I was alone. Wrapping a blanket around myself and trying to shake off creepy thoughts, I walked to the bathroom and after that out to the front door. When I opened it the rusty hinges creaked, but fresh air swept in and so did the sound of the creek.

  I stuck my head outside to see the sun glinting off the peak of Mount Alice. My watch was gone, but I guessed it was late afternoon. A fresh dusting of powder on the mountain’s high ridges was just starting to glow alpine pink. I leaned against the door post and drew in deep breaths of crisp air scented with alders and damp earth.

  My knees started to tremble as memories of the night before began to seep back in. I sat down on the top step and wrapped the blanket tighter around my knees and neck. Through the thick stand of aspen lining the creek just forty yards away I could see the water rushing by where the final stragglers of silver salmon were still making their way upstream to spawn. The leaves were turning yellow and orange. Seagulls swooped in from time to time to grab a snack.

  The thought of fish in the water sent a chill down my spine. Anything under water was the last thing I wanted to think about. Gradually I remembered the raft and Willie’s arrival with the seaplane. I grimaced at the image and remembered the sound of gunshots on the ferry’s bridge. I closed my eyes trying to erase the memory of blood on the vehicle deck and Greta’s red lipstick. And of dead troopers, the huge helicopter flashing in the fog and cold water.

  I wanted to wipe my brain clean, but I knew that every time I saw blue skies, blue water or blue ice, Greta’s eyes would come back to haunt me. Had it all just been a terrible dream? None of it made any sense.

  I pulled the blanket tighter around my shoulders, closed my eyes and told myself I didn’t care. I leaned my head against the door post and listened to the gurgle of the creek. The quiet rustle of leaves in the breeze above me carried me to a better place, and I almost didn’t hear the car pull up and stop in front of me.

  It was Brandy driving Willie’s car. She got out and walked toward me carrying an armload of my clothes fresh out of the dryer. She set them down on the step beside me and brushed the hair off my forehead.

  “You alive?” She stared into my face concerned.

  “I think so,” I said looking into the smoky green of her eyes. The touch of her hand gave me a warm thrill. I was so thankful that her eyes weren’t blue.

  “You okay to go into town?”

  “I guess so. Why? What’s up? Did they find Greta?”

  “No,” she mumbled, then paused. “Johnny, can I ask you something in all seriousness?”

  I gulped. “I, I guess so.”

  “What was going on between you and her?”

  I knew that question had to come. There was no avoiding it.

  I sat back and sighed. “I don’t know exactly how to explain it.”

  “Try,” she said.

  I thought for a minute to collect my thoughts. “I guess the way she looked at me and the way she talked to me and touched me … it got to me. The whole cover girl, beautiful people thing, and she was coming onto me. I know now it was all a con."

  “You were thinking with the wrong head?” she asked softly.

  I nodded. “I guess so. I don't really know what I was thinking,” I said shaking my head. “I’ve been lost for a while.”

  She put her hand on the side of my head and just left it there cupping my ear. Staring at her shoes and saying nothing. I loved her then. Not for what she said or what she did so much. More for what she didn’t say.

  She didn’t say a word about how Greta had manipulated me. Using her looks and my loneliness to play me like a carp hooked on a line.

  And she didn’t make me look at her either. She spared me the agony of having to look her in the eye before I was ready. She knew when to let a weasel off the hook.

  I turned my head and gave her hand a quick kiss, then struggled to collect myself and turned away to pull on the warm clothes.

  “Some people want to see you," she said.

  “Am I in trouble?” I felt a twinge of dread as more memories came back like leftovers moldering in the back of the fridge.

  “No, you’re in the clear with all that.”

  My chest swelled with a sigh. “Where’s Willie?”

  “It’s after five, you know where he is.”

  “Right,” I nodded and smiled. The man had a deadline. It was called Happy Hour.

  I looked at her, but she turned toward the creek. I stepped inside and finished pulling on the clothes. They were still warm from the dryer and felt great. I glanced back at her as she went to wait in the car.

  When I walked outside Brandy was sitting in the car. She started the engine as soon as she saw me and before long we were rolling down the highway for the ten minute drive to the bar.

  We passed the airport on our left. I could see the Cessna parked in front of my office right where it was supposed to be. The wings were tied down and everything looked normal.

  “How did that happen?” I pointed in surprise.

  “Phil went out and got it this morning. He understood you were … indisposed. The fog was finally gone. He said it was clear as a bell all the way over and back.”

  “So, what happens to those people?” I asked her as we drove along after a long silence.

  “Well, that guy, Charlie, he’s in big trouble, of course. Murder, hijacking, destruction of private property, resisting arrest, you name it. He’ll never see the light of day again.”

  I nodded and looked out to see a scraggly hitchhiker on the other side of the road. He was skinny and bearded and loaded down with a full backpack. He looked like he'd been living in the same clothes for months. He held a ragged cardboard sign that read “Anywhere south.” He reminded me of a smaller version of Charlie.

  “What about the kid?”

  “Social Services has him. There's a grandma from somewhere coming for him.”

  I looked out the window again and felt an ache grip my stomach. What would happen to him? I wondered. What kind of future would that little guy have? I shook my head remembering.

 

  Then I noticed how quiet Brandy was. She’d answered my questions but offered nothing more. I looked at her from the corner of my eye. She was staring straight ahead. Suddenly aware of my stare, she lifted her right hand off the wheel and tucked a lock of brunette hair behind her ear.

  “Something wrong?” I finally worked up the nerve to ask.

  “Nope,” she said much too quickly.

  Uh oh. The deadly Nope response.

  I braced myself and waited. It didn’t take long. Suddenly she braked hard and pulled the car to the side of the road. We were beside the lagoon across from the Breeze Motel. There wasn’t a turn out there, but she didn’t care.

  She shut off the engine and turned toward me. “Johnny, what the hell were you thinking, going in the water like that?” Her voice was loud and it almost cracked. I could see her chin shaking while she waited for me to answer.

  “Uh, I don’t
know. It was just automatic.” I couldn’t meet her eyes. “That kid …”

  She interrupted me. “When I saw the kid go over the railing, my heart almost stopped. And then when I saw you go after him… I was sure I'd never see you again.”

  I reached for her hand, but she pulled away. I sucked in a breath and tried to stay calm. She wasn’t through. Her lips were trembling and a tear slid down each cheek. She shook her head and wiped at her face with the back of her hand.

  “That was either the bravest thing or the most idiotic damn thing I have ever seen in my life,” she spit out the words.

  “I know.” I didn’t know what else to say. She was right, of course. I'd taken chances without much thought. It was only luck that had pulled me through. I was going to have to think about that sometime. Not now, but sometime.

  I stared out across the lagoon. A seagull and a bald eagle took turns swooping low over the water to eyeball a fish swirling just below the surface. Ahead of the car a weather beaten raven stood over a salmon carcass on the edge of the road, picking at it between passing cars.

  “I’m sorry I scared you,” I finally said quietly.

  Brandy wiped her cheeks again and reached over to take my hand.

  “And now you’re going to buy me a drink.”

  “Yes, m’am.”

  “Several drinks.”

  “Sounds good to me.”

  When we walked into the Yukon Bar, the place was about half full. Television screens in the corners flashed an odd light across the room. A football game was on with the volume muted, but no one was watching. A low drum beat shook the floor under our feet followed by a soulful saxophone solo echoing around the walls.

  The Revenue Corner was full, but I didn't see any familiar faces and no one looked our way. Then I heard a chorus of laughs and glasses clinking from across the room.

  I moved further into the bar and spotted Rainey and Willie drinking with a group of guys in Coast Guard uniforms. Coasties. She waved us over, but Brandy veered off and headed for the restroom.

  “Well, if it isn’t the Seward Splash!” Rainey said, raising her voice over the stereo and waving at the bartender for drinks.

  “Very funny,” I mumbled, smiling sheepishly at the group. “Why aren’t you with the ferry?”

  “They gave me a couple days off to decompress,” she grinned.

  She came closer and spoke into my ear. “So, how goes it with you and the lovely Learjet pilot?”

  I pulled back and looked at Rainey for a moment. Why would she ask me that question when she probably knew the answer better than I did? She was a gossip junkie. Like some guys are news junkies. Seward's a small town and sometimes gossip's the only news that matters.

  So I filled her in with a complete run down, bush pilot style. “We’re fine.”

  She glared at me. “Yeah, right. Liar.” She sipped her drink through a tiny red straw. I watched her lick her lips and remembered the feel of them against my ear.

  “Well, she thinks I’m an idiot.”

  Rainey laughed, her eyes sparkling in the television light. “She’s right, of course.” She winked at me and nodded at Willie who had come over.

  It was well after five and Willie was well on his way. His eyes sparkled at me and his cheeks were bright red.

  “Hey, did they ever find Greta?” I asked.

  "Who? That little blond? She's fish food now."

  My eyes dropped to the floor. Willie noticed.

  “No, they didn't find her and they searched all day. Last I heard they were going to check the ferry again. Did you ever see her go over the side?”

  “No. Did anyone else?”

  He shook his head. “Didn’t I tell you not to take that flight in the first place? Didn’t I tell you everything was going to go to shit out there? When are you going to start listening to me?”

  “Wait a minute. You didn’t tell me nothing about that flight. You just said take a gun and watch out for bears.”

  “And you didn’t do either one, did ya, dumb ass?” he snorted.

  I shook my head and looked for the bartender. I was thirsty and hunger pangs were cramping my gut. A pretty blond tourist across the bar laughed at something, her voice trilling high off the crystal wine glasses hanging upside down above the bar.

  Hank, the bartender, walked up and handed us cold beers. He was a big guy that always greeted us by our first names. We didn’t even have to order. He knew what we wanted. Willie loved that about Hank.

  Willie pointed at my bottle. “You sure you want to drink that? Your cell phone might ring any minute.”

  My hand went to the zippered pocket where I carried the phone. It was still there, but when I opened it the screen was only half visible and soaked with water vapor. I made sure it was off and put it away. Damn phones anyway. Just holding it reminded me of the strange forces swirling out there, conspiring before connecting.

  “I think I’ll take the night off,” I said and took a long pull on the bottle. The cold brew felt like a million bucks sliding down a throat that was still raw from swallowing too much sea water. Willie tilted his with me.

  Brandy rejoined us and she and Rainey hugged. I rolled my eyes as they looked at me and laughed.

  Willie's phone rang, and he moved away from the group straining to hear. Rainey pointed me toward a huge pizza box from Christo’s down the street. The smell of tangy tomato sauce and garlic assaulted my nostrils and I wasted no time wrestling a huge slice into my mouth. Grinning at Brandy and Rainey I danced the happy tongue dance with the hot cheese and closed my eyes at the waterfall of flavors cascading down my throat.

  The bartender came back and I leaned toward him and spoke into his ear.

  "Hey, Hank, put Willie's beers on my tab tonight, okay?"

  Then I remembered my bank account. The one where the fees were about to surpass the balance.

  Willie had come back over and overheard. Slamming his empty down with a big grin, he announced, “I’m ready, my friend.”

  “But only for the cheapest domestic stuff,” I said to Hank. He laughed and nodded.

  I moved over to the counter by myself and looked outside. Lights were starting to come on along the street. The sky had turned a deep blue and the final rays of the setting sun streaked golden and warm through the valley west of town.

  Brandy came over and sat beside me. She stared out the window with me for a few minutes not saying a word. Our arms were touching and words didn’t seem necessary.

  Then she leaned over, wrapped one hand in mine and spoke into my ear. I inhaled the faint scent of strawberries in her hair.

  “So you're Johnny Wainwright, is that right?”

  I looked at her in surprise.

  “Let's go,” she said.

  I moved to get up, my knees unsteady. “Where to?”

  “Who knows?” she giggled and pulled me behind her out the door.

  I don't think I'll ever learn.

  THE END