by Hannah Ross
Finally, it seemed as if the whole village was present. Out of the corner of his eye, Scott noticed Ne Tarveg, standing very straight in his festive clothes and looking ahead with a deadpan expression. For a brief second, their eyes met, and even in the dim light, it was easy to see how Ne Tarveg's jaw tightened. Scott averted his eyes, feeling uneasy. He most certainly did not seek the enmity of this man.
Tahan strode to the center of the fires, raised her arms, and called out: "O Spirits! We thank you for another plentiful season of light, for the game, the fish and the harvest, for the waters of the river and the growing grasses, for all the children born to the Anai!"
Scott was working hard to follow the words of the Anai, but he was fairly certain he understood the gist. Tahan went on:
"We thank you for what had been, and offer our hopes for what will be. Accept our celebration as a token of faith in the sunrise yet to come."
Just as Tahan finished speaking, the last lingering ray of the sun touched the top of her head, and the sun set behind the walls of the valley. It would not be seen again for the next four months.
The Anai cheered, some of them clapped. Musical instruments were being pulled out, flutes and drums and grain shakers made of hollow bone that made a pleasant rustling sound. The Anai refused to give in to the gloom naturally produced by the prospect of such a long, sunless, cold season. Skins of drink were being poured out, and Scott found a cup of the grassy brew placed in his hands by Omrek. He drank. This, it appeared, was a different kind of brew, stronger than what he had been accustomed to. It was more like wine than beer, and Scott made a mental note to be careful.
"Good drinking, huh?" Omrek smiled. Then, almost without looking, he stretched out his arm and pulled over his little nephew, who nearly got into one of the fires.
Tahan had shaken off her parka and was busy tending to the food. Whale steaks were suspended above the fire on a long wooden spit, and she was seasoning them with salt and dried herbs. A clay pot of penguin stew, carefully tied with a grass rope, was now untied and placed near the fire to heat up. Meanwhile, lighter dishes were being arranged by the Anai on platters and in serving baskets, and carried round for all to taste. There were little round rolls made of the ground grain the Anai cultivated, heaps of grass berries, little dried fish and chunks of dried penguin meat, salted and pickled penguin eggs. While Scott was sampling these Anai-style canapés, the dancing began, and he found himself pulled by Omrek into the circle of men. Hesitating for a moment, he bent down and lifted Egan up on his shoulders, to the boy's delight.
The winter dance of the Anai appeared to have its own order and figures, following the rhythm of the flutes and drums, and Scott felt like a clumsy giraffe, with his legs buckling and twisting in all directions, which was not too different from the last few dances he had participated in, way back in college. Some of the Anai guffawed, but he was not offended. There was good-nature all around, and the friendly grins, and the delighted squeals of Egan, who gripped his shoulders and bounced up and down, made him feel as if he belonged here, among these people who were no longer strangers.
The dance brought the circle of men to intermingle with that of the women, so that it was possible for men and women to pair off. Omrek, his chest puffed up and his eyes sparkling, stood in front of the pretty girl he had tried to woo on the riverbank, and Scott found himself face to face with Tahan. She smiled, took Egan off his shoulders, and sent him to play.
"Let's give you some rest," she said. "Egan can go for a while and dance with the children."
The men were supposed to go round the women with a swaying step, and Scott did his best to emulate this. He still felt extremely clumsy, but Tahan's expression was approving. "Your dancing is much better than you said," she remarked.
"You think so? Maybe it's because I've drunk more." The strong brew, drunk on an empty stomach, went to Scott's head, and he felt as though he floated off the ground as Tahan took both his hands and spun him around, similarly to how all the women did with their partners. For a minute, with the dance going off in complicated chains and spirals, they found themselves alone, face to face, in the middle of a circle, with everybody around clapping to the rhythm of the music. Then the circles of men and women broke apart again, and Tahan was carried off by the chain of women.
Later there was a pause in the dancing, and Scott pulled up Egan on his shoulders again, while Tahan, flushed and breathless, rearranged her messy hair and stuck the pin through it. Omrek was long gone into the shadows, taking his girl by the hand.
It was the Anai custom for everyone to go around everybody's fires, sampling food and complimenting the cooks. As he ate succulent whale steak and roast penguin and seal stew, Scott realized with a pang of guilt that he was growing fond of this kind of fare, so much more hearty and satisfying than whatever they had at the galley at McMurdo. There were also the funny plump domestic fowl the Anai raised, roasted whole, with their cavities stuffed with grain and herbs.
Tahan brought another cup of the brew for them to drink apiece. Its grassy, yeasty taste was refreshing, and it was good to sit like this by the fire, in the midst of a valley that was unlike any place on earth.
"Here are wishes to a good winter," she said, raising her cup. "May it pass swiftly, with plenty of food, and nobody getting cold or sick."
Egan, worn out with the food and the dancing, had fallen asleep, bundled up in the warm folds of his mother's parka – it was hot near the cooking fires, and Tahan had taken it off. "Scott, will you take Egan home? You can put him in bed so he will be more comfortable. Then come back, just don't forget to bring back my parka."
"Won't he wake and wonder where everybody is?" Scott asked.
"No, no, I know Egan. He will sleep soundly until morning, or what is supposed to be morning. In the dark season, it's sometimes difficult to notice time."
Scott complied, and walked back to Tahan's house with the little boy snugly wrapped up in his arms. Egan's head rested against his shoulder, and his breathing was slow and even. Scott placed him in the middle of the big bed and tucked the furs all around him, and stood watching the sleeping child for a few moments. Then he gently smoothed back Egan's hair and went out of the stone hut.
He was about halfway back to the feast area, when he collided with someone who had stepped out of the dark. With uneasiness, he realized that it was Ne Tarveg, glowering and towering above him. "Stranger," Ne Tarveg's voice was low and gravelly, as if he were not usually a great talker. "Strangers do not belong at winter feast."
Scott felt his ire raising and, despite this man being a head taller and much wider in the shoulders, he refused to be afraid of him." Tahan invited me," he said in Anai.
"I see how you look at Tahan," Ne Tarveg took another step closer, his fists clenched. His breath smelled as if he had rather too much to drink. "You wear the clothes she had made for her man, and some that she made for you. You eat at her hearth and sleep under her roof. But you had better watch your step. This woman belongs to me."
"She would disagree," Scott said coldly.
"Who are you," Ne Tarveg raised his voice a notch, "to come here, stranger, and wear clothes of the Anai, and go to hunt and feast with the Anai? We did not want you. We do not need you. It is better," he raised one mighty fist, "if you take yourself away."
Scott was fully prepared to fight, but then a hand was placed on his shoulder, and with relief, he saw Omrek standing beside him. "There you are, Scott! We're looking for you. Are you going home already, Ne Tarveg?" he asked. "I suggest you stay a while. Eat and drink and dance a bit more, in honor of the winter feast."
"No, I'm going," Ne Tarveg said curtly. He shot Scott another venomous glance and strode off, his back as straight as a lance and his fists still clenched.
Omrek emitted a low whistle. "He followed you, didn't he?"
"It seems so," Scott said.
"I would watch out for Ne Tarveg, if I were you," he suggested. "There is darkness in this man's face, and he n
ever got over Tahan saying she won't be his woman."
"Apparently, he thinks that your sister and I..." Scott trailed off, feeling hot in the face.
Omrek clapped him on the shoulder. "Scott, I don't wag my tongue. I observe deeds, not words. You are our friend, and a good man, and you don't need to explain a thing. Now come, let's go back to the feast before Tahan gets worried."
Chapter 15
Scott barely remembered how he got back to the house of Tahan, contented and tipsy. Omrek steadied him by the arm, and his eyes were closing even as he climbed into the furs spread out for him, and laid his head on the pillow. It was soft sealskin, stuffed with penguin down, and Scott was asleep before he was able to properly appreciate its comfort.
When he woke, he had no way to tell the time, for it was dark as night, but the day had clearly begun – he smelled the reheated leftovers from last night's feast, and heard people talking behind the partition. Tahan was telling her son off for eating with his hands. Scott got up and splashed water on his face from the washing-basin. He then went out into the main area of the house, and Tahan smiled at him and handed him a cup of herb tea.
"You slept well, Scott? Come over, there's some stew left from last night, and some of the grain rolls." As Scott reached to take one, Tahan went on: "Can you guess the news? We will have another reason to celebrate soon. Omrek has gained the consent of Re Manari, his young woman. They will make a hearth together as soon as their home is built!"
Scott came over to Omrek, who was looking self-conscious but extremely pleased, and shook him by the arm. "Congratulations, Omrek. When are you starting on the new house?"
"Just now," Omrek said. "I already have a spot chosen and agreed upon by Tahan and the elders, and the village men are going to lend a hand. There is nothing to wait for."
"Omrek has no patience to wait for the light season," Tahan said, the corner of her mouth twitching. "I hope Manari does not notice when the foundations come out all crooked."
"We'll make do," Omrek said, draining the last of his tea and getting up. He was evidently impervious to teasing at the moment.
"I want to help too, if you think I could be of any use," Scott said.
"Thank you, but you've had nothing to eat yet. After you breakfast, catch up with us. It isn't far – Tahan will show you where to go."
Omrek went to the door, Egan at his heels. "He'll be a bother, won't he? Egan, stay," Tahan called out.
"No, not at all. Let him go. He'll help us mix the clay."
"Well, if you say so," Tahan said. "Egan, try not to get too dirty. And listen to your uncle!"
Scott and Tahan remained alone. She was nibbling on a grain roll, and Scott took some dried fish and broke it in half. It had the consistency of a cracker.
"Omrek will have his home soon," Tahan said. "I'm happy for him... Manari is a good girl."
"And you'll be able to take down the partition and make more space here," Scott pointed out.
She shrugged. "Not much to do with the space. It's just me and Egan here." She stared into the wall in front of her, and her eyes assumed a distant, misty look.
"You might... well, you might take another husband someday," Scott said, feeling uncomfortably hot in the face. "I mean... you could."
A smile touched her lips. "Sometimes it seems to me as if Daygan only went away to the land of darkness yesterday," she said, "and at other times, as if it has been many years. But I know he would want me to be happy, yes. He would want me to walk in the light."
She got up and walked to the entrance, and Scott followed her. "I'm not very hungry right now," he said. "I think I had better go and help Omrek with the house. Which way do I go?"
Guided by Tahan's instructions, he quickly found the way to the construction site. It was a dark, cold morning, and he zipped up his orange parka - he wouldn't think of soiling the beautiful parka Tahan had made for him. Occasionally, a gust of chilly wind found its way under the hood of his parka, but he knew it was nothing compared to the weather outside the valley.
He heard the voices of the workers from afar, as well as the sounds of digging. The Anai men, armed with shovels of wood and stone, were shifting and straightening some of the soft earth for the foundations of the new house. The work had made them warm, and many of the men had taken off their parkas. Some of them, used to the sight of Scott by now, nodded in a friendly manner. He noticed Ne Tarveg was nowhere to be seen.
"You came, Scott, that's good," Omrek said. "We are just finishing the digging. Will begin laying the stones soon."
There was a tall heap of local black rocks near the construction site, and presently men began picking them up and making the bottom layer of the wall, which was an almost perfect circle, except a gap where the entrance would be. Naturally, the rocks did not have the even shape of bricks, but the Anai picked them so that the shapes and corners would fit together, as if in a puzzle. Clay would then block the remaining cracks and crevices. Sweating and straining, Scott picked up a large rock and placed it in the trench.
"Now a layer of clay," Omrek said. "Are you stirring?" he asked his nephew with mock seriousness. Little Egan, his face red and shiny with effort, was attempting to stir the thick clay mixture with a stick. The builders began scooping up handfuls of clay and spreading it on top of the rocks, and Scott did his best to emulate them. The clay was thick and sticky and oozed between the rocks. Later, Omrek explained, the whole house would be treated with fire inside and out, burning the clay and making it rock-hard.
After a few hours of hauling rocks and spreading clay, the circular wall of Omrek's new home was about a foot tall, and Scott was drenched in sweat and smeared in mud and clay from head to foot. The skin of his fingertips was raw, his lower back ached, and overall, he was extremely glad when Omrek declared a break. Some of the men went straight back to their homes, while others, including Scott and Omrek, headed for the hot pool to wash off the dirt. The first dip into the steamy, sulphury water was heavenly, and Scott felt all his aching muscles begin to relax at once.
"You're a good worker," Omrek said appreciatively. "Thank you for your help, Scott."
"My pleasure," Scott said, scrubbing under his broken fingernails and digging out bits of clay. He made a mental note to bring a pair of work gloves on his next visit to the Anai valley.
After washing up and the midday meal, it was time for a reluctant goodbye – Scott had to get back to AN-85, and from there to McMurdo. He carefully folded up the parka Tahan made for him, and stashed it in the depths of his backpack. He would not leave her gift behind, but he knew it must not be seen by anyone from the station.
Omrek went back to the construction site, while Tahan and Egan walked with Scott to the beginning of the valley. As they stood by the trail, Tahan touched the chafed and red tips of his fingers. "Omrek made you work too hard," she observed.
"Not at all. I was glad to help."
"They are fast workers. If you come in a moon's turn, the house will be done."
"I hope I'll come before that. I want to see how they make the roof."
"Then you will have to work again," she said with a smile, and Scott knew that she was glad.
As he climbed up the trail, he had no choice but to face the subtle change that had taken place within him. The truth was, McMurdo didn't feel like home yet, but Tahan's stone hut did. And if nothing barred him from doing so, he would have gladly stayed at the Anai valley.
Chapter 16
Days and weeks continued to slide by, with the McMurdo station becoming more and more isolated from news of the outside world. The phone lines were silent, the internet signal patchy, and Zoe, along with the rest of the communications center team, was pretty sure some of the satellites on which the station relied were malfunctioning. From scarce news reports they knew that, indeed, North Korea had made satellites its primary target, to further destabilize the United States. There had been multiple bombings, from New York to California. Most of the McMurdo residents tried hard to stop thin
king about what might be happening back home.
Scott woke up at 6:30 A.M. and headed straight to the shower. With brisk efficiency, he sloshed water over himself, soaped up, and quickly rinsed off, just as the timer began to beep at the end of two minutes. Two-minute showers were an austerity measure he was finally forced to implement all over McMurdo, which was accepted with surprisingly little mutiny. The water pressure was purposefully weakened, too, in a further attempt to save clean water and, most importantly, the energy required to purify it.
He went down to breakfast at the galley, where the cooks were putting up a very good show, considering the circumstances. Though the variety of dishes was somewhat diminished, people walked away with full trays, and continued to chat over their plates as they tucked into eggs and sausages. Real milk was beginning to run low, however, so tiny table racks with coffee creamers were offered instead.
Scott loaded a tray with toast, eggs, and little square containers of butter and jam, and went on to join Zoe, who was picking unenthusiastically through a tofu sausage.
"Morning," he said, spearing a bit of egg on his fork. "Vegan fare not very diverse lately, huh?" he said sympathetically, looking at her plate.
She shrugged. "It's fine. Jerry's vegetables are about the tastiest thing I can hope to get these days." She crunched a bit of lettuce, the green crispness of which stood in pleasant contrast to the rest of her plate. "Did you know I had to wash my hair in a pail? Two minutes of running water just don't cut it for us girls, Buck."