Zoey thought about her own thirteenth birthday party. Her dad didn’t even send a card.
“And guess what? We’ve got another one on the way. A baby. You’re going to have a little sister in September, Zoey! Can you believe it?”
No, she couldn’t believe it. Zoey had gone totally numb. As if she had fallen under the icy water at the fish net. She couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. She felt like she might die. Why did she ever imagine her dad missed her? He would have figured out some way to write or call if he had.
“Zoey, you still there? Zoey?”
But Zoey still couldn’t find any air to answer him.
“Hey, I’m sorry. It’s just that everything happened pretty fast. I had to find a new job, and then I met Katie. I don’t know where the time’s gone. Zoey?”
“That’s great, Dad,” Zoey’s own voice sounded foreign to her. There was no life left in it. “I’m really happy for you.” But she didn’t sound happy.
“You have to come visit us when the baby gets here. Eliot too. I’d love to see you and for you to meet Katie and the kids.”
There was a loud cry in the background.
“Oops! Got a little crisis here. Gotta go. But hey, thanks for calling. Say ‘hi’ to Eliot for me. Give him a hug. I’ll write soon. Just as soon as I can. Love you. Bye.”
“Bye, Dad.”
But he was already gone, leaving nothing but an angry dial tone. Zoey hung up the phone and stood frozen in place. She felt nauseous, like she was seasick on a lurching skiff.
Thomas pushed open the pay-phone door. “Was that your dad?”
Zoey nodded mutely.
“I thought you were calling Bethany?” He wasn’t accusing her. She could see he was just confused. He took her hand and led her to a log next to the phone booth. They sat, and she buried her face in his sweatshirt. Almost immediately, she felt her shoulders shake and the tears start.
Zoey wanted to talk to Thomas, but she couldn’t. Not yet. She couldn’t face trying to explain her feelings. Or her stupid plan. They sat close together on the log and stared out at the Naknek River.
When the tears stopped, Zoey wiped her face with the back of her jacket sleeve and sniffed. Thomas found a wadded-up tissue in his pocket and held it out. “Sorry, it’s all I have.”
Zoey took it and blew her nose. “I’m just kind of in shock. My dad, he’s … he’s already married again! And his new wife has two kids just like Eliot and me. And now she’s pregnant! I think he hardly remembered us.”
She kicked at the gravel. “And the worst part is that I came here today because I was actually planning to fly to Denver to find him. How stupid am I?”
“Denver?”
“I figured I could get you to drive me to the airport in King Salmon. I have enough money for the ticket and I thought if I went there and found him—talked to him—he would explain everything and it would all make sense. And maybe he would even come to Alaska to be closer to us, or at least for a visit or something. I don’t know. I didn’t really get that far with the plan.”
Zoey blew her nose again. “I’m such a mess.”
“Fishing is messy work.” Thomas winked at her.
Zoey didn’t smile.
“Look, Zoey, you’re not a mess. You’ve had a lot to deal with.”
“Yeah, but so have you. You lost your dad too. You really lost him. But you don’t go around crying and making crazy, stupid plans.”
“You haven’t known me that long. I’ve done plenty of stupid things since Dad died. When we talked about it before I didn’t tell you, but in the beginning I was real angry. I thought it was so unfair. Why did it happen to me? What did I do? I got in the habit of punching things. Not people, just walls and doors and stuff. And I would yell at Kenai when he wasn’t doing anything. I already told you I didn’t want to be around my friends. I kind of lost it.”
Silence.
Thomas shook his head. “It took me a long time to see it wasn’t just about me. I wasn’t the only one who lost someone. Mom, Harold, Captain, all Dad’s friends. They all lost him and they all hurt.”
Zoey didn’t know what to say to that.
“You really punched a wall?” Zoey couldn’t help but smile at the thought of a fight between Thomas and a wall.
“More than one. I was lucky I didn’t break my hand,” he smiled too, then flashed a full grin. He squeezed Zoey’s shoulders and kissed her forehead.
“All right, enough moping. On your feet. Let’s go give Rose her gift. Then we can hit the store and grab a little ice cream for the trip back. I’ll call Captain and see if he can come and get us.” He went to the pay phone.
A little later, Captain pulled up. But there was someone else in the front seat. It was Patrick! What was he doing here? She gave Thomas a look that asked him what was going on, but Thomas just shrugged. Then, as if he knew the rest of what she was thinking, he put two fingers to his lips and made a motion like he was zipping them shut.
Patrick was already out of the truck. “Hey guys! Didn’t want to miss you.”
“Hey, where’d you come from?” Zoey was surprised to find she was actually happy to see him.
Patrick hadn’t come just for Zoey. He explained he’d landed in Naknek on his way back from Dillingham so he could meet with another fisherman to talk about using his airplane next spring for a different kind of fishing. They used planes to spot big schools of herring.
“I might make double what I made this summer in just a few days. There’s big money in herring. The trick is to avoid collisions with the other planes. It gets to be a real zoo up there.”
He put his hand out to help Zoey climb into the truck as if he were welcoming royalty. “Ladies first. See, Thomas, you have to be a gentleman with these city girls.”
“I guess you know about that, Patrick,” Thomas laughed. “But I haven’t seen any city girls around here in weeks.”
Zoey daintily deflected Patrick’s hand and pulled herself up into the cab, smiling back at Thomas.
Captain gave her a wide toothless grin.
“Hey there, Zoey? Got any carvings to show me?”
Zoey slid toward him across the big bench seat. “Actually, I do have my carving with me. Not sure if it’s any good though. I’ll show you when we get there.”
Patrick shooed her further over. “I think we can all squeeze in here. He motioned for Thomas to climb aboard.
Zoey sat back as the truck bumped down the road. It was not such a bad place to be, wedged into an old truck with good people on both sides of her, looking out at the big open spaces of western Alaska.
So her dad had a new family. Well she kind of did too. They were a little strange, but they were hers.
32
Crash Position
Zoey barely had time to be introduced to all the relations at Rose’s birthday party before Patrick was shuffling her out the door. He had decided he and Zoey would head back to Halfmoon Bay together in the plane, and he was in a hurry.
“In Dillingham, I heard from another pilot friend that the fish were hitting hard along Halfmoon. I’m afraid Harold and Carolyn will get backed up if I don’t make another delivery for them soon. I’m sure they could use your help too, Zoey. And I could use you in the plane to keep me from falling asleep.”
Thomas needed to get back too, but Rose had a chore for him before he could go. The smokehouse roof had blown off during the storm and if Thomas didn’t fix it, Captain would try to climb up there himself on some rickety old ladder, and Rose said she couldn’t afford to lose any more husbands. Thomas didn’t see any way around that one. He would take care of the roof and go back tomorrow on the morning tide.
Zoey delivered Carolyn’s present, and on her way out the door she gave Captain a quick peek at her carving. The raven was almost finished, but it still needed eyes. She planned to use Thomas’s abalone shell, but she didn’t have any glue.
As they were loading back into the truck, Captain returned from his workshop with
a small jar. “This should hold that abalone on. You catch on fast, Zoey. I know guys that spend years, and still have to copy drawings out of books. But you—you can see what’s in there.” He reached out and rubbed the wings of her raven, appreciating each delicate feather. “These are real fine.”
Zoey glowed all the way back on the short flight to camp. Harold and Carolyn strode down the beach to the airplane as Patrick and Zoey unloaded.
Zoey glanced at her watch. 2:30. Wow! A busy day, and it was only half over. Then she noticed the grim look on Harold’s face as he approached.
He started in, “Well, I got some bad news and some good news. Which do you want first?”
Zoey had never seen him so serious before.
“What’s goin’ on?” Patrick asked.
He glanced over at the truck. “It’s the Power Wagon. Transmission just up and died.” He took a deep breath. “I can’t even remember how many years we’ve been running that thing.”
Zoey knew what he meant. She just assumed the old truck would continue to run forever. She didn’t really know what a transmission did but whatever it was, it apparently wasn’t doing it anymore. “Does that mean it won’t run at all?”
Harold shook his head. “It’s pretty much dead. Which means Thomas will have to help me haul that line in hand-over-hand every time we need to move the net. We can do it, just means we’ll have to work a lot harder and it will take a lot longer. And just in time for the last big slug of fish we’ll get this year.”
Patrick took his baseball cap off and shook his head. “That really is lousy news. Of all the times for it to go out. Couldn’t have waited one more week.” He turned and gazed out at the fishing net. “So, the fishing picked up?”
“That’s the good news.” He was excited. “They must have been waiting out there till the storm stopped ’cause the last set was huge. I couldn’t even get the net all the way picked. Just trying to keep it from getting plugged. Carolyn’s been doing your job, Zoey.”
Carolyn stretched her back and groaned. “I forgot how much fun it is out there in the mud and the water and the flapping fish tails. Zoey, you don’t know how happy I am to see you. Where’s Thomas?”
“He’s coming tomorrow. Has to help Rose fix the smokehouse roof.”
Harol bent to lift a tote. “Better get these babies loaded.”
It took everyone to haul the totes one by one up the beach to the airplane, more totes than Zoey remembered for a single load.
“How many pounds do you think we have?” she asked Harold as he tucked the last tote in and Carolyn walked up to the Quonset hut for a break.
“It’s a big one. Maybe seventeen hundred pounds.”
”Good thing it’s a tough airplane. Handpicked for your operation, Harold. Not much of a ceiling, though,” Patrick said studying the gray sky.
Zoey looked up. The shoreline was shrouded in mist.
Patrick saw her glance and continued, “Maybe three hundred feet to fly in between the water and the bottom of those clouds, but don’t worry, there’s nothing taller than Harold’s Quonset to run into. Seriously, Zoey, we’ll be fine.”
Patrick patted the plane on the tail and opened the passenger door for Zoey.
“Come on, pardner, let’s get this stagecoach movin’.”
Zoey realized her backpack still held everything she had packed that morning. She was glad she had her carving bag with her. If she had to wait around in Dillingham for the guys to unload and weigh the fish, at least she would have something to do.
She climbed into the plane, tucked the backpack behind her seat, and closed the door. She waved to Harold as he too disappeared into the Quonset hut.
Patrick opened the pilot’s door and slipped into his seat, but didn’t start the plane right away. Instead he looked at Zoey. “Well, what do you think, Zo? Probably won’t be many more of these loads. It hasn’t been such a bad summer, has it?”
“Not too bad after all,” Zoey was surprised to hear herself say.
Patrick turned toward her. “Before we head out, I want to ask you something.”
“Okay.”
“Well, I’ve been thinking about this for a while, but wasn’t sure when would be the right time to bring it up.”
Zoey was curious. He had never acted like this before—so hesitant. “Patrick, what are you talking about?”
Patrick opened his mouth, closed it then blurted, “What would you think if your mom and I got married?”
Zoey let the words sink in. First her dad, now her mom? She had a million things she wanted to say to Patrick, but what came out was, “I thought you didn’t want to live in Anchorage?”
“Oh, I’d keep on flying in the Bush. That’s my job. But I love your mother, and you and Eliot aren’t so bad.” He smiled. “I’d be home quite a bit.”
Zoey turned away. Her reflection in the passenger window stared back at her. She thought about her dad and the phone call. He was more like a thing she carried around in her mind. Like an idea for a carving, not something real. Zoey had dreaded the possibility that Patrick and her mom might get married, but that was because she had always expected her dad to come find them.
So what now?
It was too much to deal with in one day. She didn’t want to think about it. She looked beyond the window to the edge of the tundra.
“Okay, okay. I can see it’s not the right time. We’ll talk about it later, okay?” Patrick poked his head out the door. “Clear prop.”
The engine whirred to life, and Zoey watched the propeller disappear into a blur. After letting things warm up for a few minutes, they taxied down the beach. It took a little longer than usual for the plane to lift off with the heavy load, and because of the clouds, they weren’t very high up when Patrick leveled off. Zoey watched for bear and caribou. Sometimes she glanced at Patrick, but she didn’t want to talk any more right now. Besides it was too noisy.
Zoey tried to picture herself back in Anchorage. What was Eliot up to right now? She missed his happy chattering. She yawned as the warm air in the cabin enveloped her. Don’t go to sleep, don’t go to sleep. But her eyes had a mind of their own. The drone of the engine soothed her and she sank into her seat. She gave up resisting and drifted off.
She jerked awake. What was it? Some change in the engine noise.
There was no engine noise!
She heard it roar to life again, but it coughed and sputtered. Patrick pushed and pulled levers and buttons madly. Zoey had never seen him like this before. His body was rigid and his face dark.
Then the engine caught and smoothed out again. They were once more flying like nothing had happened. Zoey let out the breath she had been holding and leaned back in her chair. She barely touched the back when there was a sudden loud clanging, like someone was inside the engine beating on it with a hammer. What could it be? To her horror the propeller abruptly stopped. Once again, there was no sound but the wind rushing over the windshield.
Things seemed to move in slow motion. Was this like flying in a glider?
Patrick yelled into the handset: “Mayday! Mayday! This is Cessna N53079, twenty-five miles southeast of Dillingham. Going down.”
Going down?
Every nerve in her body stood at attention. Forget the glider. They were being propelled at full speed into … but Zoey was too scared now to even look out the window. She looked at Patrick instead. He dropped the microphone and pushed the control yoke forward with both hands. The nose of the plane seemed to point straight at the ground. The green tundra rushed up at them until it was all Zoey could see.
“Crash position, Zoey!” he shouted.
“What?” she yelled back. They had never practiced that. She had no idea what to do.
“On the floor!” he shouted. He held the control steady and stared straight ahead.
Zoey unbuckled her seat belt, but her brain seemed unbuckled too. She froze, couldn’t move. For a moment she saw herself from above sitting inside a battered old yellow plane. Th
is can’t be happening.
Then she was back in her body, which was pressing hard into the seat. She saw Patrick heave back on the controls, trying to level out the plane. Then with one hand on the control yoke he reached across and shoved Zoey forward with the other. She slid off her seat and down into the tiny foot-space between the floor and the bottom of the instrument panel.
Seconds later the plane plowed into the tundra with such force, Zoey’s head slammed into the floor and then her whole body was launched up into the underside of the panel. The impact knocked the wind out of her. She tried to breathe, but she couldn’t force any air into her lungs.
All around her, metal ripped and screamed.
The plane kept moving, bouncing then sliding.
A deafening screech pierced her ears as they plowed into something solid again. Zoey’s face smashed into the floor. The plane lurched to a stop.
Silence.
Zoey struggled to inhale. Her chest felt trapped under a weight. With a desperate effort, she forced herself to speak. What came out was a croak, but she was able to gulp a bit of air afterward.
The breath cleared her head a bit. She gasped twice more before she could calm herself enough to take stock of her condition. She was wedged face down on the floor in front of the passenger seat. Her knees were folded up under her and her head faced the passenger door. The weight of her body pinned her left arm under her side. Her head hurt and she could feel something drip down her face. Blood?
She tried to push herself out from under the instrument panel, but her shoulders were pinned by something behind her. Maybe her seat. Did it get pushed forward in the crash?
A half breath.
All she could see was the gritty floor of the plane, bits of sand and gravel lined the aluminum surface.
Though she couldn’t raise her shoulders, she discovered she could twist her head from side to side. Salmon were everywhere.
Some of the totes must have broken open. Heads, tails, fins … their bright silver bodies had flooded the cockpit. Now that she could breathe better, she realized she could also smell dead salmon and something she couldn’t identify.
Bristol Bay Summer Page 17