by Wilson, Tia
“There are some climbing supplies in the shed attached to the cabin. I should have an ice ladder. You hammer in a couple of pegs into the ice and attach the ladder. Throw it over the edge of the crevasse and climb in. It’s designed for rescue operations so set up is fairly easy.” He flexed his leg and grimaced in pain. “I’m not going anywhere like this, so you will have to do it solo.”
Lana nodded her head. If I have survived all this she thought to herself I am not going to let the trivial matter of retrieving a phone stop her. One final hardship and she could start to look forward as her past deeds faded away.
After breakfast she set off. This time she was better equipped for travel on the glacier. Her ice crampons on her boots would dig into the ice as she walked making her progress easier than yesterday. Slung on her back was a large canvas bag with the ladder and her tools. She climbed the ice steps and as her head raised above the edge of the glacier she half expected to see her attacker crawling across the icy surface towards her. The glacier was barren. The sky above was a darkening grey and the bright jewel like ice of yesterday was gone and replaced with a dull desolate expanse.
Lana walked on digging her crampons into the ice in the rocking motion Einar had thought her. Chips of ice sprayed out from her feet with each step and the only noises in the canyon were the thud and glassy smash of her crampons. Her legs burned from the effort as she trudged along. Lana stopped and covered her eyes with a hand and stared ahead. A black hole like a creepy smile was exposed in the ice up ahead. This is my attackers final resting place she thought to herself. She walked on. When she was a couple of metres away she stopped. She felt like she was being watched from somewhere, a secret hiding place she wasn’t aware of. The glacier was empty. Both mountains on either side of the glacial tongue looked devoid of life. Pull yourself together she thought to herself. The sound of her own voice made her jump when she called out, “Hello,” in a weak and frightened tone. She stood in the all encompassing silence. Not even a bird was singing. She dropped her bag on the ice and walked towards the edge of the crevasse. When she got close she lay down on the frozen surface and edged closer to the cracks edge. What if he is gone she thought to herself before she looked over the edge. His body lay crumpled on the ice shelf, his head slumped on his chest. Blood had run over the edge and a dark red streak ran down the ice and into the pitch black depths of the crevasse.
The body glistened and twinkled from a layer of ice crystals covering it. She knew he was dead and yet she still expected him to look up at her any second with frozen dead eyes. She pulled herself back from the edge and returned to her bag. Within a few minutes she had hammered the ice stakes into the surface and attached the rope ladder to them. She unrolled it and threw it over the edge. She clipped on a safety harness and attached it to the ladder. Lana looked around one final time, there was no one around. She lay on the ground and swung her legs out into space and then quickly found the first rung of the ladder. She took another rung down and lowered herself fully inside of the crevasse. The air was chilled and her breath came out in curling white clouds. The ladder hung close to the frozen body and she would not have to stretch very far to reach his pockets. She looked down and beyond the ice shelf below everything quickly faded into an endless black. She swallowed hard as images of the black sands of the beach swallowing her whole flashed through her mind. Keep it together she told herself and pressed on. Five more rungs down and she would be close enough to reach him.
Lana concentrated on moving one foot after the other as she lowered herself into the frozen heart of the earth. She was breathing deeply when she drew parallel to his frozen body. She hooked her arm into the ladders frame and reached out to him with her left hand. His head was twisted and facing away from her and she was glad she couldn’t see his frozen and dead face. She touched his jacket and peeled it back to reveal his inside pocket. The top of a phone stuck out from it. The dead mans head shifted and rolled back as if he was trying to get one last look at the sky above. Lana jerked her hand back in fright and her foot slipped off the rung and slammed into the ice shelf. Her foot swung wildly as she tried to find her footing again, her arms ached as she clung to the ladder. Her foot found the rung and she breathed again for what felt like the first time in hours.
A wrenching crack echoed back and forth off the ice walls of the crevasse. The frozen body began to slide away from her as the ice shelf started to crack and break away. She shot out her hand reaching for the body as it slowly began to angle away from her. Her fingers fumbled at his inside pocket and she felt them brush across the top of the phone. The ice shelf collapsed and the body disappeared into the hungry dark below. A great sound wave of cracking ice reverberated up through the crevasse. Lana’s right arm hung in open space above the spot where the body had been seconds before. Between her index and middle finger she gripped the corner of the phone. Her arm shook as she brought it closer to her, the phone twitching as she barely gripped it with her fingertips. She was sure that it would drop into the inky blackness below and stared at it for a few seconds with incomprehension as it sat in the middle of her palm. She barely felt the icy cold of the phones metal back as she looked at her salvation. She slipped it into her pocket, zipped it up and climbed out of the hole.
Everything about her return journey seemed easier. Her legs didn't ache and complain as she dug the crampons into the ice. The bag on her back seemed to barely weigh a thing as she moved across the ice at a fast pace. She tapped the pocket with the phone as she went, this was no lucky charm she thought, the phone was the start of a new life for her and Einar.
As soon as she opened the door to the cabin Einar propped himself up in bed and said, “Did you get it?”
He didn't need an answer from her as she ran over to the bed and showered him with gentle kisses. She held the phone up high for him to see and he cheered. “Here give it to me,” he said taking it. He popped the phone under the blankets and said, “Warm it up before we try to turn it on. The battery mightn't work if the thing is frozen. Are you ok?” he asked.
“I can’t believe this is all nearly over,” she said in a raspy voice. They held hands in silence, drawing strength from each other as they waited to switch the phone on.
The phones screen lit up and Lana pressed the icon for the address book. It contained one number and no name. She checked the signal strength and showed it to Einar. “That should be fine. People get a signal all the time up on the glacier. We have a few dozen tourists every year calling search and rescue when they get stuck up on the ice.”
She nodded and typed in the word firetruck. The text progress bar filled and the phone vibrated in her hand to signify that it was sent. The two of them sat transfixed to the illuminated screen in her hand. Neither of them dared to take their eyes off it. Lana could feel a panicked uneasiness grow inside her. What if her attacker had lied, what if this was all some sort of trap. The phone vibrated in her hand and a message notification displayed on screen. She had one message, probably the most important one of her life. She hit the icon. Five words flashed up on screen. She could feel the hot tears spill onto her cheeks as soon as she read them. The message read, Good work. See you stateside. She dropped the phone on the bed and wrapped her arms around Einar. She buried her face in his neck and cried against him as relief washed over her. She couldn’t let herself believe that it was all over. She sobbed against him as the tears flowed and her body shook. “I can’t believe it” she cried holding him tight and never wanting to let him go.
She pulled back and looked at him and his eyes glistened with tears. “I love you,” she said.
He didn't hesitate and said, “I love you too Lana.”
He pulled her against his body and the tears slowly subsided and all Lana could think was I am happy, I am truly and completely happy with this man.
CHAPTER NINE
One Week Later
The doors to the sports hall where wide open and people in their best clothes streamed in. A stage was
erected at one end of the hall and a band from Reykjavik was setting up to play. People waved and greeted each other as the crowd slowly moved into the hall. Long tables had been set up and filled with a selection of food. Huge platters of smoked lamb on dark flat breads, bowls of potato salad studded with green peas, and fresh fish prepared in a myriad of ways. Across from the tables of food was a simple bar serving beers brewed by a micro brewery situated in a farm close to Vik. Beside the bottles of beer stood several tall thin bottles each with a birch branch inside it to flavour the traditional schnapps the branch soaked in.
At a table close to the stage Einar and Lana sat hand in hand, his leg in a splint and sticking straight out in front of him. The towns doctor came over to them and shook both of their hands and said something in Icelandic to Einar.
“He was asking how the healing was going. The doc said I’m as strong as a ram and should have the splint off in a few days,” Einar said turning to Lana.
She kissed the back of his hand and nodded. They had been inseparable the last week, holed up in his farmhouse as they recovered from the ordeal. They had slid into a bubble of the sweetest domesticity. After all they had been through the simple delights of early morning breakfasts on the front porch, afternoon horse riding sessions along the beach while Einar sat in a folding chair cheering her on and an evening beer while relaxing in the hot tub made the past feel more and more faint the further they moved away from it. When Einar held Lana late at night as they made love she felt connected to him and to the country, Iceland was going to be her new home and discovering all it had to offer excited her.
The doctor said a few more words to Einar and then left to join his wife at another table.
“Are you ready to see some Icelandic people party?” Einar asked with a big smile. “This thing is going to go on all night and well into the morning.”
“Oh I’m ready. I hope you have your dancing shoes on,” Lana said.
“Once I get a few beers into me you won’t be able to stop me tearing up the dance floor. Even with a limp I intend to put some of these guys to shame,” Einar said.
“You talk a big game. I hope you don’t embarrass yourself out there,” she said teasing him.
“Don’t underestimate me because of my bulk. I am a sight to behold once I get up there and start grooving, I’m surprisingly fleet of foot” he said.
The hall was full with people grabbing plates of food and local beers. Men in heavy traditional Icelandic sweaters stood around in groups chatting about how their summers on the farm had went. Chairs where dragged across the hall as groups began to solidify and set up their tables for the night ahead. Everyone was happy and smiling as the drink began to flow. The band had finished setting up and the lead singer looked in Einar's direction and gave him a thumbs up.
“We’re up,” he said as he walked arm and arm with Lana to the stage.
The long haired singer handed him the microphone and Einar tapped it once or twice to get the crowds attention.
“Hallo, Hallo,” he said in english. “Before the party starts I’d like to make an announcement. Myself and this beautiful woman standing beside me are engaged to be married.” The crowd erupted into cheers, people clapped and the group of men in woollen sweaters whistled loudly. Einar waited for them to simmer down and went on, “If you could all welcome Lana to Vik and give her your warmest Icelandic greeting I would appreciate it,” he said and then said a few words in Icelandic.
The crowd began to sing a song in unison. An older man sang in a deep baritone and the crowd replied to him in a call and response.
Lana waved to the crowd as they sang. “What are they singing?” she asked Einar.
“It’s a traditional song of celebration. They are welcoming you to the family. You’re an honorary local now,” he said and kissed her. A huge cheer went up from the crowd and people clapped as they kissed. Einar passed the mic back to the singer while the crowd continued to sing at a quickening pace as people stamped their feet into time to the beat.
Back at the table Einar turned to Lana and said, “Prepare for the questions. You're going to have a line of people coming over and asking everything about yourself, the wedding and your plans. It’s all honest curiosity, a wedding is a big event in these small towns. People get really really excited by them.”
Lana held his hand and stroked it and said, “I love you Einar.”
“I love you too,” he said smiling widely.
The crowd finished singing and the band kicked into a fast rock song that was famous in Reykjavik during the seventies. People of all ages began to get up on the dance floor and sway to the music. As more people got up to dance, peoples moves got more boisterous and less self conscious until the dance floor was packed with people of all ages.
“Here they come,” Einar said as the first batch of people made their way over to their table.
Two older women shook Einar's hand and kissed him on the cheek tears glistening in their eyes. They turned to Lana and said in slowly enunciated english, “Welcome to the family.” They switched to Icelandic and spoke a few more words to Einar before leaving.
“They are my aunts. They live on a farm an hour away from Vik. Neither of them ever married. Both are amazing women with kind hearts. They wouldn’t stop saying how beautiful you are,” he said.
And so the evening continued like this. People patting Einar on the back and warmly hugging Lana in a tight embraces. They ate and drank and danced the night away as the sun shone and the waves crashed on the black sand beach of the tiny town of Vik. The night flew by in a whirl of good food and even better times. Lana would glance over at Einar as he spoke to an old friend and her heart would thump in her chest with pure love and excitement for the life they were about to build together. For the first time in what felt like forever Lana could envision a happy and fulfilled life with Einar by her side, living a simple rural lifestyle side by side. They had both exposed their demons to each other, seen each other at their weakest moments and they came through this changed and strengthened. Their love for each other made it feel like anything was now possible for them. And now day by day they were beginning the rebuilding process, as their new life together made all past deeds fade away like a snow flake in the midnight sun.
AS A BONUS TO MY LOYAL READERS PLEASE ENJOY THE FOLLOWING FREE NOVELLA:
READ ON FOR A FULL NOVELLA
Black Squall house stood at the end of a curving tree lined road on the outskirts of London. Many years ago the well trimmed trees neatly flanked the road as you travelled towards the great house. Now most of the ancient elms stood blackened and dying, bereft of all leaves as if burnt by a rampaging flame. The once pristine road which had chips of italian marble embedded in the surface that shimmered as you passed along it, was now rutted and potholed from years of neglect. The house itself was an imposing red brick victorian structure that at one time had been a free hospital for the poor and destitute. It was rumoured that a rich and powerful man involved in the mining business had established it after he killed a young boy in an automobile accident. Wracked with guilt he set up the hospital to help people less fortunate then him. His name was to be found no were on the deeds, no ceremonial plaque was on the outside of the building bearing his name. The mysterious benefactor never revealed himself to anyone and the hospital continued to run smoothly for decades. During the sixties when it was believed that the great man had died, the hospital and its grounds were donated to the local government who took over the running of the place. The once imposing and grand building slowly began to fall into disrepair as successive governments cut budgets and slashed funding.
At the tail end of the nicotine streaked seventies a larger more modern hospital was built in a neighbouring town and this signalled the end of Black Squall house in its current incarnation. Once again the house was put on the market and once again an unknown buyer purchased it. The building was reopened in the late eighties as a boarding house for impoverished and homeless men. The chequ
es for the upkeep of the building and employment of a staff continued coming but as the years rolled on they got smaller and smaller until the budget could only provide for a skeleton staff for the last ten years. The building lay mostly empty with around twenty elderly men boarding, most of whom had been there for years.
“How are the gents this evening?” May Clark asked as she removed her heavy winter coat. She smoothed down her starched white shirt and sensible work trousers, neither of which flattered her curves. Her hair was straightened and tied back. A few lighter strands of hair looking like spun gold weaved in with her jet black locks hinted at her mixed heritage. Mays mother came from Nigeria to Britain in the seventies and within a year she was pregnant and married to an Irish man she had fallen deeply in love with. The relationship had been scandalous to both sides of the family and caused rifts that lasted for decades. May had the same deep dark skin as her mother and most of the time her up beat can do attitude, from her father she got his trait of deep introspection and bouts of extreme self doubt. The inter family strife wore her father down more and more and the bottle was the only place he found solace. From a young age May swore off the possibility of dating white men, no matter how much society changed she believed it to be a path towards unhappiness.