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Authors: Andrea Thalasinos

Fly by Night (46 page)

BOOK: Fly by Night
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Whitedeer looked at her in surprise. “Smartie pants.”

“No really. Just been there,” she said.

“Couldn't reach the leak. Men are hand pumping.”

“No one can under the engine block.” Amelia imagined the chaos.

“Your dad tells me the boat starts to talk, metal noises as it lists portside.”

Amelia blinked and held her eyes shut for an instant. “I've heard that sound myself.”

“Mayday call went out.” Whitedeer sighed as he watched the logs catch on. “Time was not their friend. They fought like tigers as the portside slipped under.”

Amelia lowered her head.

“Your dad's boat was too small to take 'em all without losing seaworthiness so the captain and the first mate stayed.”

Amelia sat back in the chair; she could see it so clearly.

“‘Come on,' your dad yells to the captain, the men are all shouting too. He reaches for the captain and first mate but neither reaches back. ‘Grab my hand, Charlie, damn it, Charlie, Bud,' but both stood steadfast.”

“How far was the Coast Guard?”

He smiled at her before speaking. “Might as well have been a million miles, Amelia. Things were different back then. No one had choppers or them power boats they got now, or even those survival suits.”

She nodded. “True.”

“They'd kept shouting, ‘Hold on, Coast Guard's coming,' but your dad knew better. They all knew better. Hard waitin' around for men to drown.”

“I can't even imagine.” She closed her eyes, remembering the feeling of doom that went with every ship she'd board before heading out to sea.

“Chattering teeth were the last sound, he told Gloria and me. The captain and first mate slipped under. Then the groan that bending metal makes when a ship is sinking,” Whitedeer said. “Haunts a person for a lifetime.”

He looked at her.

“Did your dad.”

It was a kind of marine death rattle she'd heard of where a ship speaks for the last time.

He looked up at her. “Ever hear it?”

Amelia sighed deeply and recrossed her legs. “Thankfully no.”

“Ted was haunted by the captain's eyes—they'd looked up at him as the man slipped under. Clear, icy water—his blue eye color so vivid like he's becoming the water—your dad knowing that he was the last thing that man would ever see.”

They sat quiet for a few moments before he talked. “We believe when people die like that, sometimes they take spirits of the living with them. For company, for comfort, and we protect against that. Your dad didn't know.”

“What do you mean?”

“The man's eyes stayed with your dad. Puzzlement then peace as the captain drifted down. Your dad said it looked as if the captain's feet were reaching for the bottom. Gloria'd wake him, whimpering in his sleep. Waterlogged souls reaching out to him, trying to speak but Ted couldn't hear 'cause his ears would roar with water.”

She was too shaken to speak.

“Did a bunch of sweat ceremonies, trying to free Ted, to have him call his spirit back but don't think they worked. Sometimes spirits hang on 'cause the living need them more.”

“You think my father needed this man?”

Whitedeer shrugged.

“That his spirit is still down there with the man like he's got a claim on him?”

He looked at her with an odd smile. “What do you think?”

“I guess I don't think.” She didn't know what to say, didn't know what she thought. “With all due respect, I'm a scientist.”

“Yes I know.” Whitedeer set the pups on the chair as he stood to stoke the logs and turned his back, absorbing the warmth. “But some things are true whether you believe in them or not. Doesn't make a hill ‘a beans.”

Silence had surrounded them for a few moments before Amelia spoke.

“So how does this relate to the New York phone call and Gloria's decision to go?” she asked.

The old man set down the poker and turned to her.

“Because she'd heard the same fright in his voice, like the day he'd stepped back on shore.” The old man sat back down, picking up the pups and rearranging them in his lap. “Like he was in danger but wouldn't say.”

“Danger,” she repeated and sat up, watching as the pups slept in Whitedeer's chair. “So what stopped her, why didn't Gloria go?”

Whitedeer sat down on the raised hearth and rested elbows on his knees as he looked at her. The same odd smile spread through his face.

“You don't know?” he asked.

“Know what?” Amelia shook her head, looking puzzled.

“You don't, do you?” He nodded, looking amazed. “Why, he'd just met your mama and she was already anjiko with you.”

 

37

Three days later Amelia listened to Bryce's truck tires rolling down the snow-packed driveway.

She was out on the steps the minute she'd heard sounds, to welcome him. Piercing blue sky, clear, the temperature had plummeted the night before.

The day before she'd spent scouring Gloria's house. Her back hurt from mopping the wooden floors and washing down the walls and ceilings like she'd done so many times on research vessels that were musty, and then left the windows wide open to air the place out until it was so cold she couldn't stand it.

Amelia stepped down and walked to greet him as he pulled alongside and parked. Wrapped in her sweater, her stomach jumped.

“Hi,” she called to him. It sounded like someone else's voice and she felt embarrassed. Momentary awkwardness made her smile as she stumbled over casual conversation, “How was the drive?” until she reached him. He grasped her waist and she rested her lips on the side of his neck.

“Not fast enough.” He looked at her and kissed the tip of her nose.

She stepped on the tops of his sneakers and he began walking both of them toward the front steps. He stopped. Both their eyes were tearing from the cold.

“So, eh,” he joked. “You gonna invite me inside?”

“Uh-h-h, yeah.”

“Cold out here.” Bryce scanned the snowy hills in a way that made her laugh.

She felt his eyes on her and couldn't meet them. She felt shy and didn't know why. He stepped closer. He touched and lifted her chin. It was almost too painful to look into them. Instead she ducked down and threaded her arms around his torso under his parka, feeling the warmth of his form. They stood rocking for a few moments.

She felt him turn and guide her up the front steps. Opening the front door, he held it for her to. Lacey and Junior walked up to edge of the barricade that she'd constructed to cordon them off in the kitchen.

“They're huge!” he said. “Twice the size even than last week,” Bryce exclaimed, his arms out as he lifted the barrier and collapsed onto the floor, squeezing his eyes shut as the pups stepped across his chest as if he were a boat dock. Succumbing to a face wash, he squeezed his eyes shut as Junior peed on his collar.

“Now you've been officially welcomed,” Amelia said. Bryce opened one eye and looked at her. He shut it as Lacey's tongue approached. Amelia grabbed a wad of paper towels and knelt down, blotting.

“Come here.” He reached out his arm toward her and lowered her down onto the floor.

She curled up and rested her head on his chest.

“God, I missed you,” he said, pulling her closer. Her lips brushed the side of his neck and she smiled, the skin smelled good. Junior then began licking her lips.

“Uch.” She pulled away, rolling onto her side as she wiped her mouth. “Junior!?”

Bryce then rolled onto his side and looked into Amelia's eyes. She had to look away. It was daylight with no place in which to recede. So far they'd made love at night. She'd never looked into him with all the nuances of a lover in this way.

He took her chin and turned her face toward him.

“Place looks nice.”

“Thanks,” she said. “You didn't see it before.”

“Didn't have to.”

A tear escaped from her eyes without even crying, then another.

His arm surrounded her and he pulled her close.

Just then Lacey nosed Amelia in the butt.

“Jeeze.” She jerked back.

“‘Everybody's trying to get into the act,'” he quoted the comedian Jimmy Durante.

Just then the pup jumped over the two of them and started jabbing Bryce in the rear too.

Junior then wedged his face between the two of them, alternating between licking Amelia's nostrils then Bryce's before Amelia moved him.

“Yuk, enough,” she said, just as Lacey poked Bryce again, making him jump.

Amelia started laughing and couldn't stop to the degree that tears wetted her face. She rolled away still laughing.

“So you think that's funny, do you?” he said and rolled her onto her back. On his knees he crouched over her, supporting his weight on his elbows as he lowered himself down.

He kissed her once softly and then they searched out each other's mouths like familiar objects that they'd lost somewhere along the way but had just now found.

He circled his arms around her as he stood and lifted her.

“Bedroom's back there,” she said.

“I'll find it.” He winked.

 

38

A few weeks after Bryce's arrival Charlotte invited them over for brunch on Saturday, the first week in February.

As they pulled up to the house Amelia noticed that TJ's truck was gone.

“Bet ya a beer at the Rumline he's drummed up some lame excuse not to be around.”

Bryce shot her a look.

As they parked and walked toward the house, Amelia noticed that a few cars and trucks sped by on the reservation road. Small, portable flashing lights had been placed on their roofs as if deputized.

“Hi.” Charlotte met them at the front door, hurrying as she slipped into her coat, seemingly on her way out. “Got an emergency right now. Just left you a message.”

“What's going on?” Amelia asked.

“Poachers on rez lands.” She lowered her head. “Viola says there's a wolf caught in a snare not far from here.”

“Still alive?” Amelia asked.

Charlotte looked at her and sighed as if not wanting to know the answer either way. “I'm on my way.” She rushed toward the side door to TJ's office.

“Can we help?” Amelia asked.

“Just have to grab IV bags of fluids, blood,” she said. “You can help carry stuff to my truck.”

Bryce opened the side door as Charlotte walked down the shoveled path to the office.

“Maybe you two can join the volunteers and help locate the other traps and snares,” she said. “TJ will show you how to search out traps under the deep snow.”

“Where is this?” Amelia asked.

“Oh, down around the point, not far,” Charlotte said as she unlocked TJ's office door. “Near Sand Bay. There's a wide surface area—some open fields, other dense woods,” she said and began pulling open cabinets and drawers, opening refrigerators and pulling bags of blood as she piled them into two carrying cases.

“Can I help find something?”

She turned and smiled at Amelia.

“Thanks but I know what I'm looking for,” Charlotte said. “Maybe later.”

Bryce crossed his arms and sighed.

“Very deep snow in the woods,” Charlotte said as she gathered the vet supplies. “Very remote area too. Who knows how many traps they set or when they were set.”

Charlotte piled the carriers in Bryce's arms. She locked the door and then headed to her van.

“Follow me,” the woman said over her shoulder. “Now you get to see what your brother does.”

Charlotte then turned to face them. She took a deep breath, waiting before speaking. “It may not be pretty.”

“We're used to not pretty,” Bryce said. Amelia stood by his side.

*   *   *

They heard wolf howls just as they parked behind a line of vehicles pulled up alongside the road. Sounds of howling, yelping, and panic grew louder as they approached on a path tromped down by many boots. Charlotte led the way.

Amelia spotted TJ giving quick instructions to a group as to how to search for traps and snares under the deep snow using a pole. He demonstrated and then cautioned.

“Triggering one can shatter your foot,” he warned. “So go slowly, step gingerly, first poling down into small areas at a time.”

“What about the people who did this?” one of the men yelled.

TJ looked at the man for a few seconds. His eyes narrowed. “Don't worry about them.”

Everyone was quiet for a few moments.

“The goal is to get to the wolf quickly and without injury,” he said and paused once he spotted Amelia. “And clear out the traps.”

He motioned for the volunteers to begin their search.

People turned.

TJ walked toward Amelia after the group dispersed and asked in a quiet voice, “What are you doing here?”

“Charlotte told us,” Amelia said.

TJ looked at her. “We've got this covered.”

“But I want to help,” Amelia said, turning toward the sounds of howling.

“Stay out of this, Amelia,” he said. “This is not your area. It's dangerous work. You're leaving soon anyway so back off.”

He hurried off, carrying tools as his staff walked alongside him.

She looked at him.
You're leaving soon?
What a thing to say. Her face burned with humiliation. A few staffers turned away, some pretended to check their phones, one demonstrated the pole technique of locating traps to those just arriving, others sauntered away to avoid listening.

Amelia rushed up to him. “What's with you?”

“All these people live here, it's our struggle, our home. We've been here hundreds of years. You're just taken in by some liberal bullshit thing.”

“What the fuck is your problem?” She shoved him.

Bryce stepped up.

“I came up here to find you, get to know you,” she said. “I'm not trying to be some pain in the ass little sister and you're really pissing me off.”

BOOK: Fly by Night
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