by Scott Blade
“You sure about that?”
“Yep. It’s nearly sixty-two. In January, it’ll be sixty-two years old.”
Liddy said nothing to that. He continued to lead the way, and they stepped onto the road. The road was cracked and flawed and weathered, which told Widow Liddy was right. This road was cemented fifty years ago, maybe longer. Widow had seen old roads all over the world. In particular, he could recall roads in the Middle East and Africa and parts of Asia that were far older, and even those were in better shape.
The four-wheeler was right there, parked on the shoulder. Liddy got to it first. He patted the seat like he just wanted to feel the leather on the palm of his hand. He went into a saddlebag and pulled out a can of bear spray.
He held it in his hand and said, “Here it is. Wish I would’ve brought it with me. I’d still have my bag in one piece.”
Widow said, “And your dinner.”
Liddy shrugged and said, “That’s okay. The fish weren’t important. I do it more for the sport of it. I got food at home.”
“Where do you live?”
“There’s a village that way,” he said and pointed northeast. “It’s called Bell Harbor. I got a place up there. Actually, I got places all over the state.”
Widow asked, “Bell Harbor? I don’t recall that on a map.”
“You got a map?”
Widow pointed at his head and said, “I saw one before I came out here.”
“Bell Harbor’s not on any map. Like I said, a lot of the island is uncharted. Hell, much of Alaska is still unmapped. Bell Harbor is inside a small bay shaped like a bell. It’s known among sports fishermen.”
Widow stayed quiet.
Liddy looked up at him and asked, “So, you want a lift? Or are you still bird-watching?”
Widow paused a long beat. He glanced around, stared at the trees, the high grass, and the terrain. He contemplated with one simple question: Am I done with my break from people? He looked back over his shoulder and then back at Liddy. The answer was: Yes.
He said, “You know. I’ll take you up on that.”
Liddy asked, “Thought you were done with people? Doing the Thoreau thing and just wandering around the forests?”
“Are there a lot of people in Bell Harbor?”
“Nope. Maybe fifty residents, I think.”
“Doesn’t sound like a bustling city.”
“It’s not.”
Widow said, “I’ve been out here for weeks. I’m over it. It’ll be nice to take a real shower again. I’m ready to go back to normal life.”
Liddy said, “Besides, you’re probably paying double, renting gear from Cutty.”
“That’s true. He did force me to use my bank card when I rented it.”
“How long did you rent the gear for?”
“We left it open-ended.”
“In that case, you better return it soon. He’s probably got a clause in his terms and agreement saying that after so many days of not returning it, he’ll charge you full price for it.”
“I didn’t sign any terms and agreement papers.”
“You agreed to it when you swiped your card.”
Widow raised one eyebrow and asked, “I did?”
“I’d bet my life savings on it.”
Widow said, “I better get back then.”
Liddy said, “When we get there, you can just call him, and he’ll come pick you up. It’ll cost you, of course.”
“Of course. How much?”
Liddy shrugged and said, “A lot. Or we can arrange for you to get a ride back. I’ve got a plane.”
Liddy smiled and took the two halves of his torn satchel from Widow. He stuffed them and the can of bear spray into the saddlebag and closed the flap. He climbed up onto the four-wheeler’s saddle and got into driving position. He looked at Widow.
He said, “Hop on. Let’s get.”
Widow nodded and got onto the rear saddle behind Liddy. The rear saddle was raised up a little higher so he could see over Liddy, which wasn’t necessary for him, but that’s how it was designed.
Widow planted his feet as best he could on the footrests behind Liddy’s.
Liddy cranked the ATV to life and cycled the accelerator to get the engine revved up. Within seconds, they were off.
6
Widow and Liddy arrived in Bell Harbor on the four-wheeler with little conversation over the rumble of the engine. Not that Liddy wasn’t talking. He spoke here and there, but Widow half tuned out, half couldn’t hear Liddy’s mumbles over the hum of the ATV, which echoed between the rows and rows of black spruce trees.
They got there just in time to see storm clouds merge overhead. Thunder rumbled in the distance. Lightning crackled in the underbelly of the clouds. Liddy parked the ATV in a row of three others, all for rent, all battle-worn from hunters and fishermen. Widow hopped off the ATV first and Liddy second. He killed the engine and took the keys out. He pocketed them and looked at the sky.
Liddy said, “That don’t look good.”
Widow looked up and said, “It’s been doing that on and off the entire two weeks I’ve been here. Glad Cutty’s gear came with a rain slicker. Is the weather always like this?”
“Not all year round, but we’re in the rainy season. The salmon season runs smack into the rainy season around here. You get more rain, thus more running rivers and faster salmon migration.”
Widow stayed quiet. He scanned the dark clouds until his eyes met the treetops. He moved his eyes on Bell Harbor and the closest building. He saw that Liddy’s name was mounted on a sign along the side of it. The building was a three-story wooden building painted white. It was up on thick stilts. He figured it was lifted in order to prevent flooding. The building was parked right in front of the bay of Bell Harbor. The front of the building had a long wooden sign posted above the first floor. It read, "Liddy’s Lodge."
Widow stared up at it.
“This your place?”
Liddy fished his torn satchel out of the saddlebag and frowned at it. Once again, Widow got a glimmer of a memory of the face that looked like Liddy’s in his mind, only he didn’t remember any scar. He would’ve remembered that distinguishing feature. No doubt. It was Liddy’s eyes and his goggle sockets that flashed across his memory. But the face Widow remembered was different—younger and flat like it wasn’t three-dimensional. They were still the same eyes, the same goggle eye sockets. The memory was far, far away like a copy of a copy. Either it was a faint, distant memory, or his mind had suppressed it, or he was losing it. Widow didn’t suppress memories or emotions. He faced them head on. Losing his marbles was a possibility he couldn’t rule out because he had just spent two weeks out in nature.
Liddy said, “Yeah. It’s mine. I got locations all over the island.”
“Really? You must be pretty well known.”
“Not really. I keep to myself—mostly. I’ve been running these lodges for a long time.”
Widow asked, “You’re the sole owner?”
“More or less. I mean I got a partner, but he doesn’t come around much. He’s more of the money side.”
Widow nodded.
Liddy said, “You’d be surprised how much business I get. My lodges are always booked pretty close to full through fishing and hunting seasons.”
Widow asked, “Thirty years? Where you from?”
A look came over Liddy’s face. His goggle eye sockets furrowed his brows.
He said, “Oh. I meant I’m not from Alaska. Not born here. I was born in Seattle, but I’ve been here for years. My father moved us to Anchorage in the sixties. Never been anywhere else. Not that I remember. I can’t remember much about Washington state.”
Widow nodded along like he was just listening, but he couldn’t help but have doubts about Liddy’s sincerity. Widow had lied for a living in the Navy SEALs, undercover. He lied to the enemy. He lied to his friends. He lied to his commanding officers. He lied to his teammates. That was his job. He had to maintain cover all the time
, at all costs. If he didn’t lie, people’s lives hung in the balance, including his own.
Widow knew liars. He knew lies. He knew how to spot them. But Liddy was genuine enough that he wasn’t sure. Enough signs showed themselves for him to be suspicious, but not enough to be certain. None of it was conclusive.
Even if Liddy was lying to him, it didn’t mean anything. Not really. Perhaps he was forgetting something. Perhaps he suffered from old age. He was an old man. Maybe he was lying. What difference did it make? It was none of Widow’s business.
If Liddy wanted to tell a total stranger that he had been an astronaut who took part in a moonwalk, he could. Widow wasn’t a cop anymore. No reason to expect every person he met to tell him the whole truth. No reason at all.
The conversation stopped, and the two men left the row of ATVs and walked to the rear of the lodge, to the open mouth of the bay. The water was dark. It sloshed up to the shore, calm and serene like a sleeping giant.
Liddy looked up at the sky like and checked the weather. He gazed over the dark clouds. Widow did the same, and then he scanned what Liddy called Bell Harbor.
Widow saw immediately why it was called Bell Harbor. He imagined that from an aerial view, the whole bay looked church bell–shaped. The mouth of the bay was narrow. Past that, the bay had a bulbous middle like a bell.
The small hamlet was spread out along the coastline. Most of the structures were on the water or near it. Widow saw small shops here and there. There was a grocery store, a church, and a huge bait shop. There were other competing lodges to Liddy’s. Most buildings stood up on stilts scattered all around. Rustic docks lined the shores here and there. Various sizes of boats floated alongside them. There were large fishing charters, schooners, and smaller private boats. Most were parked in an unorganized fashion. Foot traffic was everywhere. There were tourists, sport fishermen, and locals all over the docks and piers. There was plenty of space between everything. Dark-green grass and trees took up the space between all the human constructs. There was a beach that outlined the shore around the bay. Children played down by the water. No swimsuits. It was too cold.
Liddy said, “Of course, we’re pretty slow in the winter. Right now is the end of the busy season. We might have a couple more weeks, and that’s it. It won’t be dead but slow. We get some bookings. A lot of people ice-fish, you know? Some guys just like the harsh winters. We even get bird-watchers out here. There’s a big season for it. But most of my profits come in the summertime.”
Widow asked, “So this is why you know Cutty so well? He’s your main competition?”
“He is. I suppose. There’s other lodgers,” Liddy said. He lifted a hand and pointed across the bay at other lodges. His fingers bounced from one to the next until he stopped on a larger one. It was Cutty’s. Widow saw the name scribbled on a wooden sign hung out back by a chain.
Liddy continued, “But he and I are the biggest local boys. Cutty’s got a shop right there.”
Widow stayed quiet.
Liddy lowered his hand and said, “Let me give you a lift back to Kodiak? That way you can return your gear to Cutty. Believe me, you don’t want to pay his overpriced late fees.”
Liddy rotated at the waist and pointed to a red floatplane docked at the end of a pier out back of his lodge. It floated on the bay and drifted up and down.
Widow took a look at it and asked, “Can’t I return this stuff to his shop over there?”
Liddy shook his head.
“Nope. He don’t take it at any location. All his stuff must be returned to the port you rented it from.”
“That’s shady.”
Liddy nodded and said, “It is, but that’s Cutty. He’s always out to make a buck. Not me. Here you can rent any of my equipment and return it to any location.”
“Guess I’ll take you up on that plane ride back to Kodiak. Thank you. I appreciate it.”
“It’s the least I can do. You saved my life after all.”
Widow said, “I doubt it. I think that bear would’ve swiped the fish as soon as it had you pinned. Probably would’ve ran away after. Statistically, you’re more likely to get crushed underneath a fallen vending machine than killed by a bear.”
Liddy shot Widow a sideways look. The eyes in Liddy’s goggle eye sockets stared at Widow like a man trying to decipher a puzzle.
Liddy said, “No way. He would’ve swiped my guts open trying to get the fish. I could’ve been left there to bleed out before anyone would’ve found me.”
Widow stayed quiet.
At the back of the lodge, there were several boats tied up all along the dock. Four huge local guys stood around in a circle chatting. The conversation was loud and getting heated. Not like they were arguing. It was more like they were on the verge of being frantic for some reason, like they lost something important.
The four guys instantly made Widow think of large corn-fed country boys. The kind you could find in the fields in Nebraska in places with spotty cell-phone coverage. These guys were big enough to play professional football as long as it didn’t require any running.
A second later, Widow saw another huge guy standing at the bottom of a thick wooden staircase that led up to the first floor of Liddy’s Lodge. The guy was laser-focused on the deckhands on the pier. His back was toward Widow and Liddy. He couldn’t see them. They stood back behind the stairs, out of his line of sight. The guy stepped off the bottom step and marched over to the four workers like a field commander. He barked orders at them. His body posture told Widow that he was used to barking orders and having those orders followed without question, without protest. But that wasn’t happening. Instead, the four guys had all turned to their leader, but they stared past him, right at Liddy and Widow. The look on their faces was one of relief and confusion.
Their supervisor shouted, “Why aren’t you moving?”
None of the guys spoke. But one of them lifted a heavy hand and pointed out the duo behind him. He kept his feet planted on one of the pier’s wooden planks and turned his head and took a peek over his shoulder. He saw the two newcomers in his peripherals and turned around to face them. He stared at Liddy and then glanced over at Widow. He looked Widow up and then down. It reminded Widow of the Terminator movies. Good old Arnold’s eyes registered people in a kind of digital vision. He had automatic targeting and threat assessments given in real time.
The Terminator guy marched over to them before the others budged from their formation. He was at the first plank that led onto the pier in seconds. Widow’s primal brain noted the guy’s speed. It was fast for a guy his size.
The Terminator guy stopped, ignored Liddy, and stared right at Widow. He looked Widow up and down like there actually was a robotic brain in his thick skull and the eyes were scanning Widow over, providing battlefield analysis right there—instant threat assessment.
The Terminator guy spoke to Liddy without glancing at him. He said, “Where’ve you been? Who the hell is this?”
Liddy put his hands up like he did with the bear.
“Calm down, Peter.”
The Terminator guy called Peter stood a little over six foot seven, three inches taller than Widow. Widow was a man with a towering frame, but Peter was something else entirely. The man was height and brawn. Peter’s shoulders were so thick it looked like Bruce Banner right at that moment he was about to break out of his clothes, turn green, and morph into the Hulk.
An obvious vein on Peter’s forehead turned purple. It looked on the verge of popping. His cheeks flushed red with anger. Clearly, the guy was upset. He almost looked betrayed.
Peter swiveled his head slow and stared down at Liddy. He repeated, “Where’ve you been? We’ve been searching all morning.”
“Relax, Peter. Relax,” Liddy said and reached a hand up and patted Peter on the chest. The pat made a sound that was like someone knocking on the side of a full oil drum.
“Where were you?!” he asked again. There was a certain tone in his voice. He spoke like he was ent
itled to know. He sounded like a jailer discovering one of his prisoners had stepped out for the night.
Liddy said, “Relax. I got up early and went fishing.”
Peter looked Liddy up and down. He saw the disheveled hair, the torn satchel, and the dirt on his clothes and mud on his boots.
“He hurt you?” Peter asked.
“No. Of course not. Just relax. Take a breath, Peter,” Liddy said.
Peter nodded slow like he was powering down. He took a deep breath.
Liddy said, “This is Jack Widow. He saved my life.”
Peter stared at Liddy’s eyes. His expression went from adversarial to one of deep concern.
He asked, “Saved your life how?”
Liddy said, “It’s not as dramatic as it sounds. I had a run-in with a bear. It chased after me.”
“A bear?”
“It wasn’t that big a deal. It just wanted my fish,” Liddy said and raised the torn satchel. “He shredded my bag to get at them.”
Peter exhaled and relaxed a bit.
Liddy said, “I went fishing. That’s it. See?” He showed Peter his satchel.
Peter took it in his hands and examined the two halves.
Liddy said, “It was just a hungry bear, that’s all. Widow here scared him off, but not before he got my bag.”
Peter asked, “Where’s your bear mace?”
“I didn’t have it.”
Peter asked, “You snuck out without me and didn’t take bear mace with you?”
“I took it. I just left it on the ATV. It was an accident.”
Peter shook his head with disappointment and frustration. He said, “You mean carelessness. You were careless. You’re not supposed to go out without one of us. You know that!”
“I wanted to be alone. Every man needs peace and quiet sometimes. Look, I’m back. All in one piece. Not a big deal.”
With a hand that could palm a toaster, Peter reached out and shoved Liddy aside like he was nothing. It was gentle enough, far from assault, but firm. The whole spectacle confused Widow because he was under the impression that Liddy was the boss and that Peter was some kind of hired right-hand man. Liddy’s name was on the building, after all, and probably on Peter’s paychecks. Widow couldn’t imagine pushing one of his COs aside like that. Then again, civilians were different. Peter wasn’t going to get court- martialed for it. Maybe he was legitimately overworried? Then again, maybe not. Liddy snuck off without his guys. He didn’t tell anyone where he was going. He was old. And the forest here was no joke. They did have a run-in with a bear.