Claire Gulliver #04 - Cruisin' for a Bruisin'

by Gayle Wigglesworth

  The knock at the door chased those thoughts from her head as she called out, “Please come in. The door is unlocked.”

  The first man, very professional looking in his dark blazer with the discreet security patch, went right to Mrs. Bernbaum and shook her hand. “Larry Smithston, madam. I was here the other night.”

  “Yes, yes I remember you. Please sit down.” And she looked inquiringly at the second man.

  “Mark Belossa, madam.”

  “Please, both of you sit down. This is Claire Gulliver. She is a friend of mine and was good enough to help me back to my cabin after dinner.”

  The men nodded politely at Claire.

  “I am now very worried about my caregiver, Anita Fernandez, who did not return from shore in Juneau. At the time I assumed she decided to fly home to San Francisco because of a little disagreement we had that morning. However, since then my nephew, Dr. Walmer, tried to call her in San Francisco, but couldn’t reach her.

  “In addition, Claire contacted a friend in the San Francisco Police Department and they sent an officer out to Anita’s house and interviewed some of her neighbors. No one has seen Anita and they don’t expect her home until Wednesday.

  “I’m afraid something has happened to her.” Mrs. Bernbaum sat back, waiting for the security officers to respond.

  Claire thought the men were very professional as they questioned Mrs. Bernbaum, recording her answers and offering suggestions. They took her concerns seriously and agreed something could have happened to Anita. They said their agent in Juneau had already done a search of the hospitals and morgue, but they would now instruct him to contact the police and report Anita as “missing.”

  And by the time they left, Claire was certain these men would be following the search for Anita carefully.

  “Well, do you think they’ll find her?”

  “They seem very competent, don’t they? My guess is they’ll find her. I found it very reassuring that they had already had their agent check the hospitals and morgue.” Claire nodded her head, feeling optimistic about the meeting.

  “Yes, that’s a load off my mind. I hated to think she might have been hurt, or worse, and waiting for me to find her.”

  Claire stood up cautiously, bracing against the next roll of the ship. “Mrs. Bernbaum, is there anything I can help you with before I leave? Do you need help getting ready for bed?”

  “No, dear. You’ve been very sweet. I’ll just take my time. And hold on to things. I’ve got a big day tomorrow and I have lots to think about.”

  “Mom said you were going to have a ceremony for Nate tomorrow. She wants to attend. Is that all right?”

  “I would appreciate it. It will be in the afternoon. The Mulligan Mortuary is arranging it. You can check with them about where it will be.”

  “Okay, we’ll see you then. But if you need anything, just call me.” She went to the little desk and wrote her cabin number down. “There, I’m in cabin number twenty-five, twenty-three.” Then she launched herself at the door and, hanging on to the rail, she quickly made her way down the corridor to the elevator.

  * * *

  Sometime in the wee hours of the morning the seas calmed to a gentle roll and by the time the ship sidled up to the dock at Skagway the passengers hardly noticed the ship was now stationary. Claire emerged from the second deck door and walked down the gangway in the crisp bright sunshine to find their ship docked right behind a huge Princess cruise ship. The two ships in a row took up the entire dock, which must have stretched about a quarter mile below the bluff.

  The dark gray stone side of the bluff towered over the ships and was adorned with the logos and names of the countless ships which had docked at Skagway. Tradition was when a ship first docked there members of the crew were dispatched to add the ship’s name to the history recorded on the bluff. Judging by the height of the cliff it couldn’t have been an easy chore, yet it was obvious there was some rivalry involved, because many of the names were ornately recorded and some of the logos were artistically rendered. Many were recorded in difficult to access areas, taxing the viewer’s imagination as to how they had been achieved. And they all stood the test of time and weather, a permanent record of ships docking at the tiny historic town.

  The four ladies stood a moment on the dock studying the bluff, then remembering the time, they walked briskly down the dock toward the end where the tours were assembling and where, they had been told, they could catch a bus into town.

  This morning all four had scheduled a trolley bus tour of Skagway. This afternoon they would split up. Lucy and Ruth had elected to take the afternoon train to Chilkoot Pass, the famous route the gold miners took to the Yukon Gold Fields, while Claire and Millie had opted for a bus to the top of the pass on the new highway. Both options were certainly faster and more comfortable routes than the miners had available. During the height of the gold rush each would-be miner had to carry one thousand pounds of supplies up the steep icy steps over the Chilkoot Pass in order to be allowed to enter the Gold Fields. It was hard to fathom the determination of those miners, which drove them burdened like animals to the top, where they stockpiled their goods and returned to the bottom only to find a place in line again with another load. Horses and mules died en route, but the men pressed on in pursuit of their quest for gold.

  “Oh, look at those cute buses.” Millie led the way holding out her ticket to the young woman dressed in a flowered, full skirted dress of the 1920’s and who was clutching her straw, flower bedecked hat on her head with her other hand to keep the brisk icy wind from snatching it.

  “Ladies, find a seat we’ll be ready to leave in a moment or two.” She gestured to the door of the brightly painted, very old, yellow bus.

  They found a pair of empty benches halfway down the aisle.

  “Oh, there’s Heidi.” Millie waved and smiled. Then nodded to another couple across the way she knew from the ship. “Move over a smidgeon, Ruth, or the first time we turn a corner I’ll be on the floor.”

  “I can’t move over. These are really small seats. Just hold on.”

  It didn’t take long for the bus to fill completely and the charming young lady did a count just to make sure she had everyone. Then she jauntily slid into the drivers’ seat and with much ceremony she started the engine, shifting the stick beside her as she announced, “Welcome aboard. We are so lucky to have such a beautiful day to see Skagway. Think back to that time in the 1920’s when this bus was made and how the town looked then. Actually, it’s not much different today as you’ll see when we drive through it. Skagway is a year-round town, but from September to June we have less than a thousand residents and not much happens here during the winter months. But come June, the sun, the summer workers and the tourists arrive.

  “Skagway was born out of the Gold Rush and at one time was the largest city in Alaska. In the begining, Dyea was the most important town. Dyea is not far from here and while it was a booming Gold Rush town then, now you can barely see the ruins that mark where it existed. But Skagway is still here. Skagway survived because of the railroad and its port.”

  “Are you a year-round resident?” Someone asked her.

  She headed out of the parking lot, shaking her head. “Nope, I spend half of the year in Portland and the other half here. My family owns this tour line and we all work here during the season. My older brother is the manager and he does live here all year. But when winter comes it takes a special kind of person to make it through to spring.” She laughed. “Not me. I’d go batty.”

  She continued with her spiel. “So when this trolley was made, the town was here and had about the same number of year-round residents, but from the beginning many of the residents wintered outside. Citizens from the whole area would arrive in Skagway before the last ship left for the outside and return in late May or early June when the ice broke.”

  Millie leaned forward and whispered to Claire seated in front of her, “That’s the story Mrs. Bernbaum told us about Nate’s family
. Remember, they left from here on the Princess Sophia, the last ship. Just remembering the story sends chills up my spine.”

  Claire turned around and looked at her mother and shivered. Suddenly that story seemed more real. She followed the driver’s lively chatter closely, trying to imagine life here in the early part of the last century; thinking how tragic that loss would have been to this isolated area.

  Skagway was only four blocks wide between the railroad tracks and the river, but stretched twenty-three blocks long from the Ferry Terminal to the end of town. The business section was only a few blocks, but they could see in passing that it was crowded with interesting shops, a saloon, ice cream and candy shops and some museums. Claire knew they would take the time to explore this area some time later in the day. Meanwhile, she was letting Daisy, their driver’s, entertaining spiel lull her into a dream of yesteryear, and of life on the frontier. Daisy told them of the horrors of living under the thumb of Soapy Smith, the notorious scoundrel who controlled the town until Frank Reid called him out in a duel. The heroic Frank Reid shot and killed Soapy, freeing the town from his grasp, only to die a few days later from wounds he received courtesy of Soapy.

  Daisy drove them to their theatre for a slide show of the town. It was especially interesting to see the pictures tracing several local families through the generations they lived in Skagway. Then she drove through town and up the hills on the Dyea Road to a lookout where they could see the entire town and the two mammoth ships docked near the Railroad terminal. The wind buffeted them, making it hard to take their pictures. This was only a sample breeze, Daisy told them, as compared to the wind which would thunder through this pass in winter dropping the temperatures to fifty below zero. In fact, she said, the name Skagway meant “Land of the North Wind” in the language of the local tribes. They were glad to board the trolley again for their ride back to town, this time stopping at the Gold Rush Cemetery to visit the graves of Soapy Smith and the town hero, Frank Reid.

  Daisy told them about Martin Itjen, Skagway’s original tour director. He converted an old truck into a tour bus to accommodate the Presidential tour of Skagway. He subsequently drove his bus to Hollywood and somehow became a favorite date of Mae West, all the while drumming up tourist business for Skagway. It seemed that this little town had a colorful past.

  “Skagway, even today is an exciting place. People are close. They rely on each other to survive the winter. Several years ago a McDonald’s finally opened in Juneau. The town sent the Medivac plane to Juneau to bring back their order of hamburgers and fries, and then met in the school gym for a feast. The McDonald’s opened at two in the morning to fill the order. It was quite the occasion around here.”

  The passengers laughed, appreciating that picture of the little town. One of the men near the front of the bus asked Daisy about the time the sun went down.

  “I thought we were going to have daylight most of the day, but it’s nearly the same as it is at home.”

  Another added, “And I thought we would see the aurora borealis, but so far no luck.”

  “Well, you’re here at the wrong time for long days of sunshine. The longest day of the year was June 22. If you had been here then, you would see the sun set about eleven at night and rise again about two in the morning. Would that be a long enough day for you? But now we’re halfway toward the shortest day of the year, December 22, and so sunrise and sunset adjust accordingly. But if you were further north in June the sunrise would come very shortly after sunset and it wouldn’t even get dark. And if you are looking for the Northern lights you need the dark skies to see them. Come back in December, or better yet, stay through the winter. You’ll see plenty.”

  The tour was over and Daisy offered to drop them off in town or take them back to the ship. They opted for town. They wanted to check out the shops, Millie wanted to check with the mortuary about when the service for Nate would be, and they all agreed a visit to the Red Onion Saloon was in order.

  * * *

  It was very quiet in the cemetery. This was not the picturesque old cemetery they had visited earlier on the tour of Skagway. This one was newer, located across the river from the Gold Rush Cemetery and not swarming with tourists all day. Here, tree limbs swayed in the breeze. The birds sang and the bees buzzed about their business. Here the peace and tranquility was only broken by the arrival of new tenants. Here, in this sheltered spot, it seemed possible that loved ones could really rest in peace.

  Richard nodded at Claire, so she turned toward the gates and the car provided by the mortuary. Mrs. Bernbaum was still sitting close to the site where Nate’s ashes had been buried with his parents and sister. Since she couldn’t bring herself to leave just yet, Millie had told them to go on. She would wait until Mrs. Bernbaum was ready to leave and bring her back then. Mr. Mulligan from the mortuary was very understanding, assuring them he would send the car back to wait for them. So now Richard and Claire were headed back to the ship.

  “Auntie told me you had someone in the police department check out Anita’s house. That was very kind of you,” Richard said in a low voice.

  “It was no trouble, and it established she wasn’t there.”

  “This flare-up between Auntie and Anita was destined to happen.” His expression conveyed clearly his frustration with the problem. “Auntie is a pretty feisty woman. She has been very independent, doing just what she wanted. At least she did until Anita came to work for her. As far as I can figure out, Auntie had apparently become very despondent about that time. Perhaps it was coping with her advancing age and a failing body. She had no family around and I think she just didn’t care any more.

  “So, Anita took charge of Auntie’s life. Anita did everything the way she wanted and Auntie just let her. It must have been an easy job for Anita, not much to do. They watched the television programs Anita wanted to watch. I think it suited her that Auntie was housebound, dependent on her.

  “Then I came along and disrupted everything. Because then Auntie perked up and started taking an interest in life once more.

  “I’ve seen that happen so many times in my practice when someone, who has lost all hope, finds out they can still do things. Maybe not the same things they did when they were young, but certainly some form of the activities which interest them. After all, contrary to all the excitement about longevity, no one wants a long life if every day is an endless bore.

  “So my arrival annoyed Anita, because suddenly my aunt didn’t want to sit around all day. Auntie wanted to go out. She liked it when I dropped over for dinner. And when I began treating Auntie with my vitamin therapy she had even more energy. Suddenly she realized it was possible to do some of those things she always meant to do, but hadn’t. She started making a list of life quests to be completed before her time ended.

  “And her most important life quest was to come to Alaska and bury Nate’s ashes with his family here in Skagway. We talked about it at length before we decided a cruise would be the best, as it would be the most comfortable mode of travel for Auntie.

  “Anita was vehemently opposed to the whole idea. Perhaps she saw it as the final break in her eroding control over Auntie and the life they had been living. In spite of the countless reasons Anita came up with to cancel the trip, Auntie was determined. I’ve suspected Anita insisted on coming with us to prove she was right about how foolish the trip was. In fact, I think Anita’s seasickness really was a manifestation of her anxiety over losing control of Auntie.

  “But my aunt is really a gutsy woman. Apparently, all those months, actually years, of doing nothing provided her too much time to think. And one of the things she thought about was her inability to part with Nate’s ashes. She realized when she was gone no one would see that his ashes were buried with his family. She wanted to make sure he’s safely settled here in Skagway before she passes on.”

  Richard shook his head, pausing while he gathered his thoughts. “So my arrival in her life meant it was possible for her to honor her promise to Na
te.

  “And I’m happy I could help her. I believe, whenever possible, a person should be encouraged to complete those tasks which drive them. I’m pleased to say I think I was instrumental in helping her do this.”

  Claire nodded, surprised that Richard, who normally was rather aloof, was taking the time to explain all this to her.

  “Anyway, Anita is at cross purposes with Auntie. She doesn’t know the independent, self-sufficient woman, Auntie really is. She wants their relationship to be back the way it was. I think she could see Auntie was enjoying this cruise. That it wasn’t going to fail like she predicted. So she just took off and is holed up somewhere in Juneau, thinking Auntie is worrying about her disappearance, thinking Auntie is struggling to get along without her. Then Anita will appear to save the day and take care of her again.”

  Claire’s eyes widened in surprise. “But that’s so childish.”

  Richard nodded. “Precisely. But still, I think that’s where Anita is. She’s determined to return to that time before I appeared when she could rule the household. She catered to Auntie’s little demands then, because she didn’t let her do anything else. Auntie lived a shut-in life with only television and naps interspersed with meals. So Anita wasn’t bothered by other people and she didn’t have to expend herself except on those rare occasions Auntie went to the doctors. The hairdresser even came into the building once a week. Auntie never went shopping or to social events. She didn’t entertain. Anita seemed to like that life. But those days of boredom were suffocating my aunt.”

  Claire looked at him thoughtfully. “How do you know so much about your Aunt? I thought you only met her a few months ago.”

  Richard laughed. “Right. Yes, you’re right. But how could I not know her after listening to her stories. After all, you’ve talked to her. Do you think she’s a shy, retiring little old lady? Can you imagine her as a docile, agreeable patient?”