Discoveries

Chapter 1

How can I do this, wailed July Edgerton inwardly as she grasped the arm rests and pushed her head against the back of the seat to steel herself for the landing impact. The big blue jet hit the scraped gravel runway and shot through the white chute formed by snow piled on each side. With the motors throttled back, the pilot taxied to a spot just opposite the plywood terminal. At least she had landed safely. Give me courage, she prayed silently.

Several hours before in Anchorage, she had felt desolate when the airport loudspeaker announced a fifty-fifty chance of arriving in Dillingham because of bad weather. Maybe she didn't belong in Alaska either. As she had waited, she pondered the wisdom of her decision to hire on as comptroller for the cold storage company for the 1978 season. However wise or foolish, this remote Alaskan coastal village on Bristol Bay held her doubtful future. Too late to turn back now, she thought, too late for anything.

The chummy atmosphere in the plane among most of the passengers familiar with each other had made July feel even more alien. Emotional frostiness permeated her bones.

Finally the pilot's voice crackled over the cabin radio, "We've found a hole in the clouds and we're going into Dillingham." The engines roared into life.

After the pilot cut his motors in Dillingham, a ground crew rolled steps into place at the plane's rear door and the passengers deplaned. July stood for a moment looking at the landscape before she hurried down the stairs. The bleak, cold, and empty white countryside echoed her bleak, cold and empty heart. Will I ever find a place for me again, she wondered.

Airport workers rapidly unloaded the luggage and parcels from the plane's belly. July followed the other passengers into the terminal wondering what the guy from the cold storage would look like.

Towering over most of those in the terminal, a big, bearded man with a scowl searched among the passengers, the hood of his parka pushed back to show his dark bushy hair shot with gray. He nodded to those he appeared to know and kept searching. He glanced at July and headed toward her.

"You July Edgerton?" he asked brusquely.

"Yes, I am," she answered pertly as she wondered if this rude man represented a typical Alaskan. Maybe if she hadn't felt so bereft it wouldn't have bothered her so much. A warmer greeting might have assuaged her cold terror.

"I'm Sam. Let's get your luggage and get outa here."

They went into a long narrow room attached to the terminal where the crew unceremoniously dumped the baggage into slanting plywood trays.

With July's luggage among the last to be flung into a tray, she had begun to worry that it had been left in Anchorage. It would be just another unfortunate happening in a disheartening string of such events. She picked up one of her bags and showed Sam the other two. He strode toward the door and July could do nothing but trot along behind trying to keep up with his long strides.

Sam threw the luggage into the back of a dilapidated blue pickup truck and July tossed hers on top of the others. Sam got in the driver's side and tapped the wheel impatiently while July wrestled with the other door. She finally wrenched it open and climbed into the truck. Before she slammed the door, Sam gunned the engine and started out of the parking lot.

What a welcome, July thought, about as warm as the weather. She looked out upon the frozen tundra as Sam piloted the truck over icy roads, chuckholes and ruts. Bleak country, bleak man she decided.

"Your trailer on the dock isn't ready yet. I'll take you to the hotel," Sam said, still with a scowl.

"Which hotel?" asked July with the hope that conversation might warm the chill in the truck's cab.

"Only one in town," Sam answered.

"This is the middle of April. Does it usually snow this late in the season?"

"Nope. Had a foot yesterday. That's why your trailer isn't ready. Gotta fix the skylight. It caved in."

Sam didn't waste words and mentally July dubbed him Silent Sam. He parked the truck in front of the two-story hotel painted dark brown. The sign, "Dillin ham Hotel," had lost a "g."

"Expecting you," Sam said as he got out of the truck. July banged against the other door until she finally got it open and nearly fell onto the snow. Sam grabbed all of the luggage and lumbered across the cement entry to the hotel door. July raced to open it for him and they both climbed the five carpeted stairs to the lobby.

A roly-poly man came out from behind the counter wringing his hands. "Welcome to Dillingham, Ms. Edgerton," he said with a big smile on his cueball face.

Finally a welcome, July thought, even if he doesn't mean it.

"Sign in later," Sam said. "Which room?"

The short, fat man led them down the hall and grandly flung open the door to one of the rooms. July followed and bumped into Sam as he turned after he had dumped the bags on the floor. He caught her arm and steadied her. She looked into his deep, intensely blue eyes and then she stared at his back as he swiftly paced down the hall.

She followed Henry Bowling, the hotel manager, back to the lobby to register.

"Be sure to put your company name on it so they'll pay the bill," he said, wringing his hands again.

"Is there some place to eat?" July asked. She hadn't felt like eating for a long time but now she realized she was as empty physically as she was emotionally.

"Yes, ma'am, the Captain's Table is two blocks away. Just go out the door, turn left and go around the corner. The snow's melting now so walking shouldn't be too bad, but watch out for the ice anyway."

July plunged the room key into her pocket and went out the door to find the restaurant. She expected a rough plank counter, scarred stools, and chipped china. She climbed the wooden stairs and the cosmopolitan air inside the door pleasantly surprised her. A lunch counter filled the left side, booths dotted the windows on the right and she could see a dining room beyond where tables waited for dinner.

She perched on a stool and a matronly woman behind the counter asked, "New in town?" with a warm smile.

"Yes, I just got here," July replied glad to find someone who seemed interested. "I'm the new comptroller for the cold storage company. I'm July Edgerton."

"Glad to meet you, dearie," the older woman said. "It's quiet around here now but when fishing starts, it's a madhouse." She pushed back wispy gray hair with her wrist. “What'll you have?"

"How about some fisherman's stew and coffee?" July said after she scanned the menu posted on the wall. She had never heard of fisherman's stew but it must contain vegetables. When the woman set the bowl before her, the savory aroma made her mouth water. When it cooled enough, she devoured the vegetables and clear broth. It tasted as good as it smelled.

She appraised the village as she headed back to the hotel. Parts of cars, debris and garbage peeked from beneath snow drifts mounded against separate structures. Despair joined her terror. What had she agreed to do in the midst of all this stark country?

When she got to her room, she bounced on the bed a few times. It's soft enough, she decided. The closet fit into the corner next to the door and opposite it, the bathroom sported a shower. The one window overlooked a building supply store next door. Snow drifts softened the angles of piled lumber, and created a solemn peace somehow.

July flipped on the television set and discovered only one channel. It diverted her and kept unpleasant memories pushed away. She unpacked just one bag, she didn't know how long she'd be in the hotel. Just how much time would it take Sam to fix her trailer? What a strange man! She wondered if he had resigned from the human race just as she had.

She shrugged into her black velour robe then propped herself up with pillows to watch the silly program. She soon lost her concentration and her mind drifted back to a year ago when her husband had asked for a divorce.

Tears slipped down her cheeks as she remembered how perfect her life had been. She had loved keeping house, cooking, chauffeuring the kids, chaperoning their dances, being their confidant. The lump in her throat grew more painful as she recalled the joy she had known in her husband's arms. What had gone wrong? She had tried so hard, had devoted every moment, every thought to her family's comfort and happiness. Why am I so alone now, she asked herself for the hundredth time?

No one wanted her any more except for her kids but they were grown and married. Her husband had preferred an office cutie pregnant with his child. Maybe he needed more of a challenge, she thought. I should have stood up to him more. I should have been curious enough to see the signs of his infidelity. What a dumb wife! Why hadn’t she broadened her interests, be more sophisticated, be a person instead of a stupid, dutiful spouse.

She could feel that awful well of loneliness opening up inside her again. Too hurt and too numb to contest the divorce, she had failed to fight for her share of their holdings. She couldn't ask her children for help. They struggled to make ends meet as it was. She had to find some means to sustain herself.

She had worked as a part-time bookkeeper but it had paid little and she needed to make a lot more money to live on and to prepare for her old age. It her late forties, the golden years weren't too far away. With the way her life was going, the gold would probably be cast iron, she thought.

She had scanned the Seattle Times help wanted ads and in desperation had applied at a fish company's Seattle office for the job she now had. She had cited her experience as treasurer for Seattle Council of Parents and Teachers and her bookkeeping job as her qualifications.

The Alaskan bush, an unknown quantity, awaited her. Overwhelmed by loneliness, she vowed to make it through the season to get the promised bonus. She could stand anything for six months.

She awoke to the bouncing black and white BB's on the TV screen. The programming had ended for the night. The salty tracks of dried tears stiffened her cheeks.

She crawled under the covers feeling the chill of the snow outside her window. Sleep enveloped her in its warm arms.

Bright sunlight poured in July's window and roused her from exhausted sleep. She stretched and went to the window. Outside she watched workmen from the store next door break out some pieces of lumber from their snowy shroud.

She cast an appraising glance at herself in the mirror. She had lost a lot of weight and her five-and-a-half-foot frame seemed gaunt. Her short, dark hair shone with life, though, as it waved down to just below her ears. That's a plus, she thought, about the only one she had. Her jade green eyes looked back at her from her milk white face. Well, lady, she thought, you're worthless in your middle years, a very pitiful creature.

She dressed in a pair of jeans and a heavy sweater topped with a windbreaker. She again went to the Captain's Table for the food, the warmth and the friendliness. The snow dissolved into rivulets along the unpaved, rutted road without sidewalks.

As she finished her third cup of coffee, she asked how to find the dock. She decided to visit her future home and ask Sam when her trailer would be ready.

July followed the trail pointed out to her and when it met the road, she wound her way down the gentle slope to the dock. She saw a vast expanse of snow-covered deck with a huge red forklift and the dented blue truck sitting mutely. A tall, pale green building stood on the right next to the water side of the dock. On the land side, a two-story building had an office in the bottom corner. A large window faced the dock. Above, big windows dotted the front along half of the building, painted the same green as the other big building.

Between the two structures sat several trailers, one looked larger than the other three. Straddled on top of a smaller one, Sam pounded, his bushy beard filled with snow.

July walked over and looked up at him. From her viewpoint on the dock, he looked even larger than when he stood beside her.

He finally saw her and said, "Not ready yet, maybe tomorrow."

"I just wanted to see what it was like down here and to find out when I could move in."

"Don't have water yet but I can carry it," Sam offered, then turned back to his work.

July walked over to the side of the dock and looked toward what she learned later was Snag Point. Frozen pillars, like toadstools, dotted the beach littered with crumpled ice. The flat top surfaces perched on peduncles planted firmly on the frigid beach. Their height indicated the depth of the ice still filling the water as far as she could see. Some were as tall as she.

She watched the ice move slowly but steadily toward the horizon. The crisp air invigorated her and she breathed deeply. No pollution here, she thought.

She sensed a presence beside her and turned to see Sam gazing across the white expanse, too.

"Does the ocean always freeze like this?" July asked.

"The ocean is twelve miles that way," said Sam pointing out between two necks of land. "This is the Nushagak River. Over there's Clark's Point and on the right the white building is Kanakanak Hospital."

July nodded then looked down at her hiking shoes. "With all this melting snow I'd better buy some boots."

"Got some in the cold storage," Sam said and started away from her. Again she trotted after him. When he got to the door of the land-side structure, he reached for his keys. He led the way into the dark building and found a pair of short black boots that would fit July. "Here" he growled as he handed them to her.

"Thanks, Sam," July said. She wondered why he didn't speak more. He had a deep, melodious voice. "I can't afford to eat at the restaurant all the time. Is there a grocery store in town?"

"Keep turning right and you'll get to N and N."

July took off her shoes and slipped her damp feet into the boots. As she slushed toward the road running with melted snow, she looked back to see Sam already back on top of the small trailer with his back to her. He hadn't even waved good-bye. I’m not wanted here, either, she thought.