Chasing Mercury

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Chasing Mercury Page 7

by Kimberly Cooper Griffin


  “I think I have this. But thanks. I’ll give a shout if I need help,” said 4B, letting her know she wasn’t wanted for this task.

  “I’ll be just over there,” said Nora taking another step back, indicating the other side of the rock. The woman began to claw at the button on her jeans. “Just call if you need anything. Oh, and here,” said Nora coming back, pulling her travel flashlight and a half-dozen square napkins from her pocket. “Um, they’re for… well, you know.”

  4B hurriedly took them and waved her away. Nora retreated to the other side of the rock to give her some privacy. It took everything in Nora to stay where she was. She imagined 4B passing out from the unfamiliar exertion or tripping over something in the dark.

  A few minutes later 4B carefully made her way over to the other side of the rock to Nora, who pretended to study some lichen, but turned when she approached.

  4B leaned against the boulder next to Nora to catch her breath.

  Nora leaned, too. “I forgot to ask you to wrap up the napkins so we could burn them. Leave no trace, and all that.”

  “Oh, um, I buried them,” said 4B.

  “That’s okay. They’ll decompose soon enough.” Nora laughed. “Seems silly to worry about a napkin, when several tons of metal and plastic have basically embedded itself in this mountainside.”

  “Yeah, I guess so.”

  “It’s probably a good sign you had to, you know, um, go,” said Nora, thinking it meant all of her systems were functioning properly.

  4B looked embarrassed.

  “So, while I was unconscious… did I… I mean… how…?”

  Nora was confused at first, and then amusement hit her when 4B waved her hand in front of her zipper. “Oh! You mean… um. No.” Nora laughed. “You seem to be perfectly potty-trained.”

  “That’s a relief. Two days, and I just thought… I must be dehydrated.” 4B pinched the skin on the back of her hand and it didn’t flatten out immediately. “Yep. Dehydrated.”

  “We’ll get you hydrated. Under the circumstances, it’s amazing neither of us is worse off than we are.”

  4B pushed her dirty hair behind her ears, considering the statement.

  “Yeah. I guess not being able to remember my name is a relatively small issue considering how we got here. Though it is concerning.”

  Nora suddenly remembered the boarding pass.

  “There’s a boarding pass in your back pocket. Your name’s on it,” said Nora. “I hope you don’t mind that I checked.”

  “Really?” 4B slid her hands into the pockets of her jeans. She pulled out the folded piece of paper and unfolded it with one hand even as she searched her front pockets with the other. She leaned back against the rock. “I didn’t think to check my pockets for identification. Did I have a bag with me?”

  “No. Just what’s in your pockets. Oh, and this,” said Nora holding out the tube of cherry Chap Stick. “You can blame me for your moisturized lips.”

  “I owe you for many things” 4B mumbled as she took the lip balm and then shone the light on the boarding pass. “So. I’m Grace Trackton.”

  Nora waited for some sign of recollection.

  “Does it conjure up anything else?”

  “Grace Trackton flying from LAX to JNU,” 4B read, staring at the flimsy slip of paper. “Grace Trackton,” she repeated. It sounded like she was trying to talk herself into it.

  “I’m not seeing massive recognition,” said Nora, disappointed. 4B sounded disappointed, too.

  “Nope. Nothing new. I guess it’s my name but it doesn’t feel like it. It could be Grace, Linda or Bernice. Chuck or Louie, even. It doesn’t matter. Still nothing.”

  They were quiet for a moment and 4B continued to stare at the paper.

  “I kind of like Louie.”

  “I feel more like a Louie than I do a Grace, actually,” said 4B. “Do I look like a Grace? I don’t feel like a Grace.”

  “What does a Grace feel like?”

  “I’m not sure, really. Not like this, though.”

  “Well, do you mind if I just call you 4B?” asked Nora. It was such a weird conversation to be having.

  4B must have thought so, too. She laughed.

  “That’s what you were calling me when I woke up. Why 4B?”

  “It was your seat number.” Nora pointed to the number on the boarding pass. “My seat was 8D. You were a few rows in front of me.”

  “4B…” she said. “4B is interesting. It’s good. I like it. For some reason it feels more like who I am than Grace.”

  “We can switch back later, if—“ Nora caught herself, “—when—things change.”

  4B stuffed the boarding pass back into her back pocket.

  “I don’t know. 4B sounds kinda tough. I might just keep it.”

  “It’ll sound good when we get rescued and all of the media asks about our ordeal. You know, the book deals, the speaking tours—”

  “You already have all of that figured out, do you?” asked 4B.

  “Honestly, besides worrying about you, I haven’t figured anything out, or thought about anything except getting back to Aunt Mace. And my own bed,” admitted Nora.

  “I wonder what’s waiting for me back home—wherever home is,” said 4B. “A soft bed does sound great.” Nora wondered what else was on 4B’s mind as she watched her wrap her arms around herself. “It’s creepy in the dark. We should get back,” said 4B as she pushed away from the rock. She took a few steps and then stumbled.

  Nora caught her before she fell and kept her hand wrapped around 4B’s elbow as they made their way back to camp.

  “You’re actually steadier on your feet than I would have expected,” observed Nora when they got there.

  “You say this right after I nearly fell on my face,” remarked 4B, with light sarcasm.

  “You have to give yourself a break. Remember—you were unconscious for two days and haven’t walked since falling several thousand feet out of the sky.”

  4B glanced at Nora with a smile.

  “You have a unique way of putting things into perspective. Has anyone ever told you that?”

  Nora just laughed and followed 4B back under the shelter. 4B crawled onto her little bed. The fire had burned down during their absence. “We really shouldn’t leave the fire untended. Normally, I would’ve damped it a bit when no one was here to watch it,” said Nora as she tossed a few pieces of wood onto the embers and then helped move the pack behind 4B. “But it was a bit of an emergency, I would say.”

  “If you mean that I nearly peed my pants, that would be a big yes,” agreed 4B. She settled back and Nora draped a couple of the blankets over her legs, tucking a third one around her shoulders. Nora wondered how 4B felt about her taking care of her. She knew she could have done it herself, but Nora liked looking after her.

  “Better?” asked Nora.

  “Yes, thanks. Well, actually…”

  “Yes?”

  “This thing I’m sitting on—I think I’d rather sit on the ground.”

  “Kind of hard, huh?”

  “Like sitting on a rock,” admitted 4B.

  “Let’s see what we can do,” said Nora, tapping a fingernail against a front tooth as her eyes roamed the area under the wing.

  Nora took a blanket and ducked out from under the wing. A few minutes later, she came back with it thrown over her shoulder like a sack. She placed her cargo of pine needles on the ground and then she pulled the panel—4B and all—away from the fire, and started to dig a shallow indention in the dirt, where it used to be. The dirt was loose and easy to move, and when the indention was as long as she was and about three inches deep, Nora emptied the contents of the blanket into it, picking out any sticks.

  “Be right back.”

  She came back with another blanket full of pine needles, and then another, until the indention was full. Then she spread the curtain she’d found over the whole thing, testing the cushion of it and smoothing out a few lumps.

  “This might
be more comfortable. Try it out.” Nora gestured for 4B to lie down.

  4B crawled gingerly over to test the new bed out.

  “A little pokey in spots, but much softer,” sighed 4B, reclining on the padded area.

  Nora smiled and sat down in the airline chair. It looked like the short excursion out of the shelter had energized 4B.

  They lapsed into a comfortable silence and Nora handed 4B a plastic bottle she refilled from the water in the metal drawer. She also handed her a square of plastic wrapped around a few chunks of ice. “For that nasty bruise on your hip,” Nora said as she leaned over to resituate the blankets around her.

  “You know, you don’t have to baby me,” said 4B, leaning back on her elbows. She pressed the ice pack to her hip. “Now that I’m awake, I should be able to take care of myself.”

  “I don’t mind. It’s something to do and keeps my mind occupied. But if it makes you uncomfortable, I’ll stop.”

  “No, it doesn’t make me uncomfortable… well, not that uncomfortable,” said 4B with a little laugh. “I just get the feeling I’m not the kind of person who lets people take care of them. I’m not sure how I know that, but I do.”

  “I’ll try to hold back my urges to play nurse, then. You do look like you feel a little better,” said Nora, interrupting 4B’s musings.

  “I do. My head still hurts, but I’m not as dizzy or as nauseated as I was.”

  “Good. Because the pharmacy only has so much ibuprofen,” joked Nora.

  4B smiled. “It must be my awesome doctor.”

  “Maybe I’ve found my new calling,” remarked Nora, breaking up a stick and throwing it on the fire. “Now, put the ice on that bruise. Doctor’s orders.”

  4B complied.

  “What do you do when you aren’t moonlighting as a doctor? Wilderness guide? Outdoor survival training?”

  Nora looked at 4B with a contemplative look and then smiled.

  “Pretty much the exact opposite. I run a few websites, do a little trading in rare wines, fix computers, and work on home networks. But, when I was in college, I did a tour in the Air National Guard to help pay for tuition. Ironically, I was in search and rescue.”

  “Search and rescue I can see. But computers, huh?” 4B looked like she was trying to picture her working on a computer.

  “It’s my rugged good looks. It throws people off all the time,” joked Nora.

  “You are far from rugged. Is that your passion, working in computers?”

  Nora picked up a stick and idly poked it into the ground.

  “I prefer the software development aspect of it, but it pays the bills. Right now, it gives me flexibility to take care of my aunt.”

  “You’ve mentioned her, your Aunt Mace. Is she sick?” asked 4B. “Am I getting too personal?”

  Nora stopped drawing circles in the dirt near her feet to look up.

  “I believe surviving an airplane crash together lets us skip the polite acquaintances stage,” said Nora, tapping her stick on the toe of 4B’s tennis shoe. “Aunt Mace gets around by herself, mostly. But she’s pretty sick. She has pancreatic cancer.”

  “I’m sorry. I hope she’s beating it.”

  Nora kept her eyes on the tip of the stick she held and shook her head.

  “We’re starting to scrape the bottom of the barrel on treatments. She’s about to start using an experimental drug. You didn’t hear it from me, though. She doesn’t qualify for the clinical trials. She’s too old. And if you aren’t part of the trials, you don’t get to use it, at least not in the U.S. But it’s all we have left to try. Her doctor knew a guy, who knew another guy… that sort of thing. I went down to Mexico, where anyone can get the medicine for the right money. I picked up a few bottles of what we call her last chance. They have to be refrigerated and the dry ice I was transporting them in evaporated, so that’s what’s floating in the water in the drawer over there. I was so scared the security monitors at the airport would find it and they would take it away. But I skated right through.”

  “Sounds like you took quite a risk,” said 4B. “But I can understand why you did it.”

  “I don’t know why I told you all this. My aunt’s doctor would have her license revoked if anyone found out. All I keep thinking is she’s probably sitting at home, not taking care of herself. Worrying about me.”

  The sadness of her dream came back in full force.

  “Remember, we get to skip the normal getting-to-know-you stages,” 4B reminded Nora. “And for the record, I won’t tell anyone—even when the media makes us into the story of the moment. I promise not to include it in my book.”

  Nora smiled.

  “Thanks. I knew you were good people.”

  “You’re good people, too.”

  They were quiet for a minute, watching the fire. Nora poked at the burning logs and threw pieces of bark into the flames.

  “Most people in Alaska are good people,” said Nora. “The hard living does it to them—kind of makes it necessary. It’s hard to survive in a place like Alaska on your own.”

  “Have you always lived here?” asked 4B.

  “I was born in Juneau, but my parents moved us to Denver when I started high school. I lived there until four years ago. Moving back to Juneau was supposed to be temporary, but when my aunt got sick last year, I decided to stay. I’m all the family she has now.”

  “What about your parents?” asked 4B.

  “My mom died just a year after we moved to Denver. It was a freak accident. She was backcountry snowshoeing with my dad. A snowmobiler jumped a rise and hit her. My dad had a really hard time with it. He wished it had been him instead.”

  “Oh, wow. That would definitely be a hard thing to deal with.”

  “He dealt with it by getting drunk,” said Nora. She wondered why she said it. She didn’t talk about that part of her life to people.

  “God, I’m sorry, Nora. For your mom and your dad. For you.” 4B looked like she didn’t know what else to say and was one of the reasons Nora didn’t talk about it. But 4B was easy to talk to. Maybe that’s why she kept talking.

  “Then one night, he drove off the road into the Platte River. I was in college at the time, and he and I weren’t talking a lot. Actually, we weren’t talking at all. He wouldn’t get help for his drinking and I thought I had all the answers... anyway, Aunt Mace is the only family I have left now.” Nora didn’t mention she suspected her father’s crash into the Platte wasn’t really an accident. She’d never mentioned that specific detail to anyone.

  “I wish I knew what to say.”

  Nora shrugged her shoulders and tossed more bark in the fire.

  “It was a long time ago. I stayed in Denver for several years after that. Alaska has claimed me now, though. It seems to claim everyone who spends any time here. We take care of our own. That’s what Alaskans do, especially Juneauites.”

  They were quiet for a little bit.

  “You’re a very interesting woman, Nora Kavendash. I wish I was as strong as you.”

  Nora laughed, embarrassed.

  “Strong? I’m not so sure about that. Besides, how do you know you aren’t?”

  “First impressions are generally right,” said 4B.

  “Then you’re a pretty strong woman, too,” said Nora.

  “What? I can’t even go pee on my own!” laughed 4B. “I don’t recognize my own name. How does that make me strong?”

  “Exactly my point. Most people in your situation would be complaining about it. Maybe even freaking out. You’re just sort of dealing with it as it unfolds. I think there’s a strength in that kind of acceptance.”

  They listened to the campfire crackle for a few minutes.

  “Does it get very cold at night?” 4B asked, pulling the blankets up under her chin.

  “It’s been dipping into the low 40s according to my watch.”

  “It feels colder than 40 right now. I thought they called Alaska the home of the midnight sun.”

  Nora looked at her
watch. “Right now, at the end of September, day and night are about the same length. It’s 53 degrees Fahrenheit right now. It’s chilly, but not that cold. I wonder if the bump on your head has thrown off your thermostat.”

  “Maybe,” said 4B, shivering.

  “You are holding a chunk of ice to your hip, too,” Nora remembered.

  “True,” acknowledged 4B, repositioning the bag.

  “Oh, wait. I’ve got something,” said Nora, leaning over to unzip the bag that 4B leaned against. She held 4B’s shoulder to indicate she didn’t need to move as she pulled out a hoodie. “Four hoodies for twenty bucks in Mexico City. Plus, I have this.”

  Nora held up a blue suit jacket, which had been lashed to the side of the pack. 4B took both of them.

  “Thanks. You don’t happen to have a cell phone with you, do you?” asked 4B, pulling the hoodie over her head, careful of her injury, and then slipping into the jacket. The blue jacket had gold stripes on the cuffs and wings on the lapels. Nora wondered if she guessed where it had come from.

  “Yep. No service, though.”

  “Of course you would have checked the first day. The first minute of the first day, probably,” said 4B, pulling the hood of the sweatshirt up and shoving her free hand deep into the front pocket.

  “I don’t think I consciously did anything the first day,” said Nora, leaning back in her chair, peeling bark off of the stick she held. “I was on autopilot. Still am, sort of.”

  “You have innate survival skills, then. I mean, in addition to what you learned in the service.”

  Nora smiled and shook her head.

  “I’m not so sure about that. All I can think to do now is sit and wait.”

  “But you searched the wreckage. You salvaged food and other stuff. You made a fire. You took care of me. Sounds like survival skills to me.”

  Nora just shrugged again, uncomfortable with the praise.

  “How did you find your backpack? Was it near the wreckage?”

  “It was a carry on and I strapped it to me when things started to happen,” Nora said.

  “That was smart.”

  “Just did it without thinking, really,” shrugged Nora. “The only thing on my mind was holding onto Aunt Mace’s medicine.”

  “Was the flight full?” 4B looked up at the metal structure above them.

 

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