One Night

by Tia Wilson

  Chapter Twelve

  Sasha pushed forward through the blowing snow, she was a lone figure against the soft white lines of the path down to the main road. The pressing covering of clouds was beginning to split and a scattering of stars no bigger than pixels of light popped into existence as Sasha trudged through the ankle deep layer of snow. A single lane road followed the curve of the fjord and then disappeared around one of the sharp bends that the jagged landscape caused. No cars drove either way and the town of Isafjordur was blocked from view by the steep sides of a mountain covered in patches of snow like long scar marks along its rocky surface.

  Sasha stopped half way down the path and turned on the spot. Its like I am on another planet she thought as she scanned the landscape for any other signs of life. Nothing stirred as far as she could see and the only sound was the gentle crashing of the waves about a kilometre away. She looked back at the cabin and the lights from inside called to her like a beacon. Tough it out she thought as she pushed onwards. I’ll go as far as the main road and back again she thought as she pushed through virgin snow. As Sasha pushed on her mind became restful as she entered her familiar relaxed state that walking brought on and she focused on nothing more than the sound of her feet crunching in the soft snow as she kept moving forward.

  She passed the polished piece of driftwood by the side of the path and ran her gloved hand across the wind blasted stub of a branch. For luck she thought even though her rational mind didn't allow for superstitions to creep into her every day life back home. There was something different about where she was that added a mythic quality to everything. The wide open fjords with their near vertical mountain sides, relentless weather and closeness to nature. It made you feel small and at the same time connected to the landscape around you in a way that Sasha had never experienced in the concrete world of San Francisco.

  Everything was reduced to the minimum human elements in the stunning scenery of the fjords, life, death love and loss all contained in the shadows of steadfast and unwavering mountains. Concerns that had been so important back home now had taken on a trivial and silly tone for Sasha. Only a week ago she had been fretting about meetings, packed schedules, catching up on a growing backlog of movies, books and TV, backing up her computer, and a thousand other things that had filled her mind and her days. Now as she trudged through the snow and towards the coast road new priorities where becoming clear through the blur of the storm. All of the old structures that Sasha had used to fill up her time and now she was realising to keep her loneliness sealed off and contained, they didn't matter anymore.

  I want to live the simple life Sasha thought, one filled with nights in front of the fire with a good book and Jonas by my side as a blizzard blows down from the mountains. Sasha stopped in her tracks as the snow fell slowly around her, I’m really doing this she thought and felt a knot of tension in her stomach. The last few days she had toyed with the idea of starting a new life in Iceland. Standing in the soft ankle deep snow as fat flakes fell around her she now knew that at some point she had crossed the bridge from her old life to the wide open possibilities of a life in Iceland. The layer of snow around her shimmered as if it was embedded with a million diamonds and as the clouds continued to shift more stars twinkled into existence in the night sky. Sasha felt a thrill of excitement as she did a slow twirl in the perfect winter landscape she stood upon.

  She felt weightless and her thoughts floated above her in the swirling snow as dreams of a new life spun about her. The dazzling whites of the snowy landscape mixed with the striking azure blue of a crisp winters morning as Sasha tried to imagine the landscape she crossed changing with the seasons. Her mind whirred as she went through an endless list of things she needed to do to start her new life. She continued on down the path as she mentally packed up her old apartment and pictured a cargo container travelling across the sea to her new home. When she reached the wooden post at the end of the path that marked the point where it meet the coast road she stopped again and watched as a set of car lights bobbed as they turned the corner on the road from town and drove in her direction.

  Who am I kidding she thought as the image of the sad and broken German woman once more floated in her mind. This dream could end before it even has a chance of starting up. As she watched the lights of the car cut through the blowing snow Sasha knew in every ounce of her being that the driver of the car was bringing her bad news. She bit her lip as the sound of the cars engine began to get louder as it approached. She looked back at the cabin which looked like a tiny beacon of light, a safe place that would feel like a museum if she had to walk back there with bad news weighing her down.

  The car drew closer and Sasha could make out a lone occupant and he flashed his lights as he got closer and began to slow down as he drew near to her. This is it she thought and readied herself for the cold slap of the worst news possible. The car turned onto the road up to the cabin and pulled to a stop. Sasha's heart was beating so fast she thought it was going to rip through her chest. The passenger door swung open and the driver said a few words in Icelandic. Sasha bent in to the open door and looked at the driver, he was a man in his seventies with bushy eyebrows that stuck out like bristles on a brush, kind eyes that peered out from under heavy lids and a wide smile with two front teeth missing.

  He crumpled his brow and pursed his lips and said, “Sorry its not so easy to switch to english when you get to my age.” When he spoke his voice whistled slightly through the gap in his teeth and it made Sasha smile.

  “Not at all. Is everything ok?” Sasha asked, waiting for the horrible news to hit her like a backhanded slap.

  “Jonas sent me to get you. He radioed from his boat. He wanted me to bring you to my place to have dinner with me and my wife,” he said and pursed his lips again as he tried to grab hold of the words he needed, “would you like to join us?”

  Sasha felt a moment of relief wash over her. I cant sit alone in the cabin all night I’ll drive myself crazy with worry she thought.

  “I’d be very happy to take you up on your offer,” Sasha replied.

  “Jump in then. Get out of the storm,” the old man said with a grin.

  Sasha got in and slammed the door behind her. The old man stretched out his hand and said, “I’m Gudtor.”

  She took his hand and shook it, his hand had the same work hardened coarseness that she had felt on Jonas’s hand. When their hands separated Gudtor held up his hand and showed her his fingers. The middle finger and index finger were twisted and frozen in a half bent position.

  “Its from years working on a fishing boat and handling the nets. Over time it messed my fingers up,” Gudtor said and Sasha didn't pick up that he was looking for any kind of sympathy, only stating a fact.

  “Did you work with Jonas on the boats?” Sasha asked.

  “I did. Every summer for most of his teenage years and through his twenties until he left town,” he said staring out at the snow, he turned back and looked at Sasha and said, “I could tell you many a tale about young Jonas.”

  “I’d love to hear them over dinner,” Sasha said and gave him a smile. If I continue to smile maybe I can hide how worried I am inside she thought.

  “You don't have to fake it with me,” Gudtor said.

  Damn these Icelandic folks are perceptive and blunt Sasha thought.

  “I’ve been around enough worried family members of fishermen to know what you are going through. The uncertainty is hard. This is when we Icelanders pull together, draw close to each other for comfort until the ships return home. I can tell you Jonas is one hell of a captain and an experienced sea farer and Rafn, have you meet him?” Gudtor asked.

  Sasha nodded her head.

  “Well then you’ve seen the size of that boy, a storm wont get the better of Rafn I can tell you. That man is a survivor if ever there was one. I just know those two will be back before daybreak. They are like brothers and nothing will keep them apart.”

  “Thanks for that,” Sasha repli
ed.

  “I mean it. We all pull together thats how we get through the dark times. You are one of us now, every person in town has gone through what you are going through this minute. I think Jonas wanted you to know that you are not alone,” Gudtor said.

  “Thank you,” Sasha replied.

  Gudtor smiled at her with his wide gap toothed grin. “I hope you are hungry, my wife has a big spread ready for us. Our house is at bursting point with all the holiday food at hand. Are you going to go back to America for Christmas?”

  “I think I’m going to spend it here and stay through until the first week in the new year.”

  “I’ve seen that look before, you have fallen for Iceland am I right?” Gudtor asked in his soft lilting voice.

  “I have. I’ve never been somewhere like this before, I don't know what it is but it already feels like home.”

  “Iceland has that effect on people, it cries out to be reckoned with, the landscape, the people, the snow. It has a powerful cry that calls out to a lot of people to live on these lands. My wife is from Germany. I saw a similar look on her face when she first set eyes on the fjords over forty years ago.”

  “And you have lived here the whole time?” Sasha asked.

  “We have. We used to spend a few months a year in Germany so my wife could be with family. As we got older those trips became less often. We got to a point when we had to decide if we wanted to live our retirement years in Germany or out here in the west fjords.,” Gudtor said.

  “Was it a big decision?”

  “I thought it was going to be. In my heart I thought that my wife was going to choose Germany first, even though she spent most of her life living here. I was afraid that her home land would have too strong a pull for her. It wasn't to be so, Iceland had her heart.”

  “And you too,” Sasha said. She was feeling relaxed in Gudtor’s company, he exuded a relaxed charm and she could see that in his younger days he must of been a very handsome man.

  “I think I might of had a small amount to do with her ultimate choice,” he said and chuckled. He took the handbrake off and said, “We better get going. Hanna will be waiting for us and maybe even worrying as she does whenever there is a storm. Do you need anything back in the cabin?”

  “I’m ready to go,” Sasha said.

  The lights of the car moved across the fields in front of the cabin and the chunk of driftwood was bathed in the pale yellow light for a second as the car made a turn and then returned to the main coast road. The headlights illuminated a swirling world of an infinity of snowflakes blowing in from the sea. The road was covered in a scrim of fresh snow and Gudtor leaned forward in his seat as he drove. They drove around the curved road and Jonas’s cabin disappeared from view. Up ahead the town of Isafjordur glittered like a string of gems floating above grey churning waves.

  Steam rose from the damp material of Sasha's trousers and the side window fogged up. She rubbed at it with her balled up fist and looked out at the oil black water that was only meters away from the side of the road. Reflections of stars jumped and rippled on the surface and Sasha stared off in the distance hoping to see the lights of a returning boat.

  “A night like this you need some good Icelandic lamb soup. It can cure anything that ails you,” Gudtor said as he fiddled with the heating controls of the car. He muttered a few words in Icelandic and then said, “Sorry this old junker is close to being on her last run, I can’t get much more heat out of her.”

  “I’m ok,” Sasha replied. She was cold but it was at a far off distance as if she was witnessing her body begin to chill without feeling the sensation. “Soup sounds good,” she said in a monotone and she realised she was close to tears.

  Gudtor must of sensed the swelling of emotions in the steamy interior of the car, he gave her a quick glance and then focused his attention on the swirling snow storm and the barely visible stretch of black road. “I know you are hurting right now. We people of Isafjordur have been through every kind of catastrophe that nature can throw at us. We stand together and we stand strong against it and you are now one of us and can absorb our strength. I’ve known Jonas for a long time, that man would freeze the very oceans and cross them on his bare feet to get back to you.”

  Gudtor's words were like a warm breeze moving across her ice cold limbs. It was like she was hearing a decree from an ancient god that was how steady and powerful his voice had been. “Thank you. I needed to hear that. All of this is so new to me. I don't think I could ever get used to it,” she replied and trailed off.

  “You are one of us now. And with that you will have the same inner strength that beats in the heart of every man and woman in Iceland and especially in the ones who choose to live in the harsh fjords. We are all in this together.”

  “How did you know about me and Jonas?” Sasha asked.

  Gudtor flashed her another one of his gap toothed smiles and when he did his eyes glittered like freshly fallen snow. “We are a small town. Everyone knows everyone and when one of them falls in love with an outsider news can travel faster than the storm thats blowing outside.”

  They took a side road that lead up to a small wooden house whose roof was covered in twinkling lights. The house sat on a hill that looked out across the fjord and was directly opposite to the small airport that Sasha had first arrived at when the storm had grounded her plane.

  Inside the house was packed with a lifetime of pictures and the kind of antique Scandinavian furniture that was in fashion in some of the hipper areas of San Francisco. Hanna greeted Sasha like an old friend and they all sat around the table and enjoyed steaming hot bowls of lamb stew. Sasha filled the couple in on her life so far and the elderly couple listened with great interest. It was good to be talking and for awhile it took Sasha’s mind off Jonas and the rescue mission.

  After dinner Hanna started to clear up and refused all help from Sasha and she was given strict orders to relax while coffee was prepared.

  “How much coffee do you Icelanders drink?” Sasha asked Gudtor.

  “More than is good for us. Its the only thing that keeps us going in the long dark winters,” he replied.

  Hanna carried in a tray with a pot of fresh brewed coffee and a selection of iced pastries as big as a plate. The rich smell of the strong dark coffee that the Icelanders favoured filled the room as Hanna poured it out in to three large mugs. She placed a plate with a pink iced pastry in front of Sasha and then sat down across from her husband. Sasha eyed the monstrous cake and even in these dark times she couldn't help but smile at its size.

  “In english we call them elephants feet,” Gudtor said as he took a bite from his, “a good cup of coffee and one of these can get you through all sorts of hardships.”

  Sasha patted her stomach. “I thought that was the job of the lamb stew.”

  “An Icelander never turns down an opportunity for something sweet, as a nation we have a notorious sweet tooth,” he said as he took another large bite.

  Sasha started in on her pastry and relaxed back in her seat. She needed this, to be around other people and Gudtors and Hannas warmth to her during the evening had helped the time pass by easier than if she was on her own and brooding.

  “Thank you again for this. If I am going to be honest this kind of hospitality does not happen to me too much. Things are different in San Francisco,” Sasha replied.

  Gudtor and Hanna glanced at each other and gave each other knowing smiles.

  “I feel so disconnected from people back home even though you cant get away from them. I couldn't even tell you my neighbours name or who lives in the apartment above me. We pass each other in the hallways and the most we give each other is a nod. Everyone is so busy all the time and my work was so important to me, the only thing important to me. Now I don’t know anymore,” Sasha said and picked up her mug of coffee and cupped her hands around it.

  “I was like you when I was younger,” Hanna said, “I loved the city and work was everything to me. Then I meet Gudtor and came
to Isafjordur for the first time. To say it was life changing, well,” she said and swept her hand around the cozy room they sat in. The walls were crammed with pictures of friends and family and scenes of life in the fjord. Black and white pictures that looked to be a hundred years old showed couples in traditional dress and beside them were pictures in pin sharp colour of Gudtor and Hanna standing beside an old fashioned car that stood outside a bakery. Everywhere you looked you could jump between decades, even centuries and see the history of the town unfolding before you. The clothes changed and more houses sprung up on the spit of land that jutted out in to the fjord but one thing stayed the same in the pictures, the connection of the people.

  “I want this, I cant go through life any more just skimming across the surface,” Sasha said and she could feel herself close to tears.

  Hanna reached across to Sasha and took her hand. “You will get it. In the past I have sat here just like you waiting for my husband to return from the sea. Life in the fjords can be hard there is no doubt of that. But if you asked me if it is worth it, to take the plunge and leave your home country then all I can say is you must listen to your heart. I did almost fifty years ago and I have never once regretted it.”

  “Thank you Hanna, you and your husband have been..” Sasha was cut off by the loud electronic squawk of the radio in the corner of the room. Her heart beat sped up at the sound and all of a sudden her mouth was as dry as a sandy beach. Gudtor got up from his seat and said a few words in Icelandic to Hanna.

  “That will be the Jonas’s boat. We are tuned to his frequency,” Hanna said and squeezed Sasha's hand.

  Gudtor pressed a button on the base of the desk mounted mic and said a few rapid words in Icelandic and then twisted a few of the dials on the receiver. The system crackled again and faint words could be heard under a storm of static. Gudtor spoke again and the same blast of static came through.