An Alaskan's Hello

My boots crunching on the refrozen snow and echoing back to me from the wood line is the only sound for miles. The 89 Wagoneer my grandfather bought me for my seventeenth birthday sat stalled and tilted two knobby wheels in the ditch. I had broken down about three miles from the edge of town. Gripping my key in the ignition I tried one last time to restart it before hopping out with my 38 and making sure not to forget my cigs.

They tell you not to leave your car at night; don’t walk for help you'll surely freeze to death. Those words are advice for the inexperienced and tourist from the lower forty-eight. My fur lined moccasin boots and down filled coat suitable for temperatures well below zero were holding up just fine.

Thanking God that I wasn’t any father out I opened the hatch letting out the last bit of warmth trapped inside. Rummaging through my things I finally located my holster and gloves. Closing the hatch and locking the doors I stared off down the white moon lit road as I strapped my holster to my waist and snuggly secured my revolver.

  I’m not terrified of the vast wilderness encompassing my current location, but it demands respect all the same. The bears have been in hibernation for about six weeks, but every now and then you get a rogue out of the den for whatever reason. No easier target than a lone human trekking to town at 5 p.m. in the arctic darkness. The wolves don’t care much for stealth I would hear them coming over either ridge that ran parallel to the roadway.

Settling into a comfortable pace, I light a cigarette. It's New Year’s Eve and I’m headed into the town of Wards Cove, Alaska population; me. I wish I were joking. It’s not even a town at all, but and industrial complex and considered a gateway village to Ketchikan. No one has actually lived downtown in half a century or more. It’s quite unnerving to think that if I were ambushed by wolves no one would even know I was gone except grandfather sooner or later. I’ve lived here my whole life so the possibility is something every resident comes to terms with.

Lost in thought I nearly missed the broken-down white Ford pickup as I slugged past. Noticing the lack of snow accumulation, it must have been a recent tragedy considering it had stopped snowing around noon today. Peering in the windows to make sure no one was wasting away waiting to be rescued I found the cab empty. Only a scarf and half full bottle of soda well on its way to becoming and undrinkable ice cube. No doubt the driver fared better than I whose poor Jeep died a mile or so back.

  “Onward”, I mutter to myself and the nothingness around me, just me and the moon walking together. At this point I’m kicking myself for not keeping that little red leering needle above the quarter tank mark. My grandfather had given me that lecture several times this past year not to run it low and burn out the fuel pump. He is guaranteed to give me another when I see him at the wharf. 

  We have made plans to take his house boat down the Tongass narrows into Ketchikan for fireworks and drinks with friends. His friends and co-workers will no doubt crack jokes at my expense all night. I glance at my watch, 5:32, probably fifteen more minutes and I’ll see the lights of Marine Highway Headquarters illuminating the cove and docking area.

   As I round the next curve a dark shape down a few hundred yard grabs my attention. It’s laying in the middle of the road ahead. Maybe a log fallen from a timber lorry on its way to the mill or barge. The idiots they hire to log around here with their lax safety procedures. I’m not surprised. I light another smoke and ready myself to at least roll it into the ditch.

 Steadily approaching the outline comes into focus and my heart flutters and my cigarette has fallen out of my gapping mouth. A person is stretched out perpendicular to the faded yellow lines not visible under the crunchy snow. I’m nearly jogging now as panic sets in. This person is dead; mauled or a stiff and lifeless a victim of the cold. A trillion outcomes none good news weave their way into my conscience and I slow as I approach readying myself for the worst.

  Instead, hot breath rises into the frigid moon glow. There’s a girl about my age, appropriately dressed, staring straight up into the indigo sky. She has neither flinched nor blinked as I stand over her in utter shock.

   “Thought I was a goner huh?” she asks flatly.

   “Yeah, actually, but I now see you’re not dead just completely insane.”

   Laughing hardily and still unmoving, “I'll gladly except that label, especially after the night I’ve had.”

   Me still standing over her completely baffled and waiting for more of an explanation, but obviously not getting one. “So, is that your truck a way back?”

   “How’d you know?”

   “Lucky guess”

   She turned her head to glance up at me, “More like the only logical explanation”

   “Well yeah, that too,” I said nervously. I couldn’t tell you what color her eyes were but they were pale colored and soaked in moonlight. She looked from me back to the expanse of stars, picked up her mitted hand and patted at the packed white ice next to her.

   “Want to join me?”

   “Ummm, I kind of have somewhere to be.”

   She just patted the ice with more force and said nothing.

   “Fine, but if this is some ploy at highway robbery…it won’t end well,” I said scanning the tree line for movement and lifting my parka to reveal the revolver. Landing my eyes on hers holding the seriousness she didn’t even eye the gun.

  She smiled and shifted her body a little to show off the scoped hunting rifle nestled against her. “No no, nothing like that. As long as you’re not a serial killer out strolling for stranded motorists.”

   Holding up my hands in mock surrender, “Nope. I just broke down farther back than you.”

   That remark gained an intrigued eyebrow raise, so feeling like it was the perfect thing to do, also because I was surprisingly impressed, I walk up next to her feet and flopped down awkwardly in all my layers. Knowing that no one else lived up the valley past my Jeep it was highly unlikely that anyone else would be driving by this time of day, I flopped backwards on the hard ice. The bright morning sun has just enough time to melt the snow on South facing stretches of pavement before turning it back to white glass after dark. Glancing over the see her staring blankly up into the stars I cleared my throat. “So, I always thought the population of Ward Cove was one.”

  “I guess now it’s two.”

   I’m assuming she raised two fingers up into my line of sight, her mittens not making it easy to distinguish the number of fingers. 

   “Why here?”

   “Every place in Alaska is the same. More people, less people, doesn’t matter. Always one grocer and three bars.”

   I laugh louder than I expected, enjoying the conversation more by the second. “So, how long were you planning on laying here?”

   “Until someone or something came along and found me. My dad, wolves, aliens.”

   “Looks like you’ve succeeded in being found”

   “Yeah I suppose you’re right about that. I was tired of walking so I decided slipping and falling to stare at the sky was a great idea.”

   “Oh, is that so? You know Ward is right around the next curve,” I said point over her in the direction I was walking.

   She glanced in the direction of my outstretched arm.

   “Really!”

   “Yep!”

   “In that case,” she sat up and stood just as stick-man like as I looked laying down, “Let's go!” Throwing the rifle strap back over her shoulder and extending a hand in my direction to help me up.

  “Thanks.” I muttered, “Also thank God the aliens didn’t show I’m terrified of flying. Plus, I’m sure it would be harder to explain to grandfather than my car trouble.”

   “Totally, my dad is going to be really pissed. This is the second time I’ve ran out of gas trying to learn my way around.”

  I dusted of my bum laughed and started walking, “Out of gas huh?”

   “Hey, what’s that supposed to mean” she accused narrowing her eyes. 

   I smiled I couldn’t help it I was actually having fun. “There’s only one road you know.”

   She stopped walking, crossing her arms “That's my excuse and I’m sticking to it”

  I put my hands squarely on her back and playfully steered her back to walking falling in step beside her again after she was making progress. “No judgement I was only teasing, honestly I’m pretty sure my fuel pump is fried because I’m habitually running around low on fuel.”

   “That’s funny were both suffering the same fate.”

  Just as we round the corner the cove comes into view. Harbormaster lights and the moon shimmering across the water. I point. “Told, ya!” A moment of silence “So how long were you laying back there not realizing you were almost there?”

   Squinting at her watch, “About an hour.”

   “Right, so will your dad be worried? Do you need a lift to where ever he is?” I said motioning in every direction including back the way we came.

  A smile and then “Not that way,” she motions back over her shoulder, “but sure if you have room for me, I was supposed to catch the 5:15 ferry headed to Ketchikan for the New Year’s celebration”

   “Well I guess it’s your lucky unlucky day, I’m sure my grandfather would be happy to give you a lift. We're taking his boat down the narrows. It’s the one docked there at the end.”

   “That’s perfect, Thanks”

 I freeze just before crossing the highway making her stop too. “I need to thank you also.”

   “For what exactly”

   “For running out of gas and making me lay in the middle of the road with you.”

   “It was fun huh?”

   “More fun than I’ve had in a while. Its sounds kind of pathetic but it's the best Alaskan 'Hello' I’ve ever received.”

   “In that case you’re very welcome. I know exactly what our resolution should be.” 

   Our resolution. It caught me off guard to think I’d made a friend. I crossed the street and turn to face her when my boots hit the boardwalk. Dramatically implementing the thinking pose, “Does it have something to do with gasoline?”

   She smiled and rolled her eyes, “Maybe.”

   I spun on my heels continuing toward my grandfather's boat and I no longer caring about the lecture to come.