by Warren Troy
Charlie Brady was starting to close down when Denny and Gwen walked in. From the looks on their faces he knew something was up. Denny took him out to the wheeler while Gwen sat quietly inside. She was glad the journey with their unfortunate cargo was over.
Charlie and Denny carried the man over to a small refrigerated outbuilding next to the cafe used to store perishable foods, and laid him on the floor before Brady called the troopers to come out. As it happened, there was an officer about an hour away. The three of them sat quietly waiting for him to arrive, making small talk, though little conversation actually passed between them.
About forty minutes later, a Alaska State Trooper in an SUV pulled up and came in. Charlie didn’t know the young man, though the officer knew Brady by reputation.
He inspected the body, found the victim’s wallet in a buttoned shirt pocket, located his ID, asked Denny some pertinent questions, and took some photographs. They loaded the man up in the SUV. Charlie talked to the young trooper for a few minutes, shook his hand, and then the officer drove away north.
It was a relief to have the situation concluded. Charlie told them the drowned man had been missing for two days, having fallen into the Salcha when the bank gave way beneath him. The swift current and debris-filled water had done the rest.
“The trooper confided in me there was drinking going on, no big surprise. The man was from Fairbanks. He and his family were on a spring road trip, headed down to the Kenai, and had stopped at the campsite to stay for a couple of days. Apparently he fell in their first evening there.”
“Sad for the family,” was all Gwen said. They bid Charlie goodnight and headed over to the trailer for some sleep. As they were settling in, Gwen asked,
“Denny, would you consider taking a little trip for a day or two? I’d like to put a little time between this incident and going back home.”
“I think that’s a good idea, Gwen. What say we drive down to Anchorage, to roam around a bit and motel it?”
“You bet. Think we could go to a store to buy some fabric? I’d like to make curtains for the cabin windows.”
“Sure Gwen, and we could pick up some extra bulk food while we’re at it.”
“I hope all this domestication isn’t too rough on you, Mr. Caraway.”
“Not a bit, and if it gets too pleasant, I’ll go find a bear to annoy, to put things right.”
“Well, don’t expect me to repair your torn-up clothes if you do.”
Their plans settled, they kissed and curled up together for some much needed rest.
Traveling to Anchorage proved to be a good thing. It took them away from the unfortunate situation of the drowned man and provided a break from their daily routine, even though they loved it. Once in the city, Gwen got to browse through several stores’ fabric sections, finding some nice blue corduroy for the curtains in one. At first she teased Denny, pretending to want some really gaudy flowered cotton, over the top even for a Hawaiian shirt. Denny took it in stride, willing to accept anything she wanted to use. He was relieved though, when she settled on the solid blue material. He never knew she had been teasing him, and she never told him.
The two of them spent a night in a motel. Though it wasn’t a special thing for Denny, who would have preferred to stay in his cabin, Gwen enjoyed it thoroughly, especially the long hot bath she took. While she bathed, he went out and picked up some take-out Chinese food, another treat rarely had by the homesteader. The next day, they had breakfast at Gwennie’s, where he had eaten with Nathan Barker on their trip to Anchorage. It was considered an authentic Alaska restaurant. For Denny, it didn’t seem that special, though he liked the reindeer sausage, and planned on making some the next time he took a caribou. He told Gwen she should have a stake in the restaurant, considering the name, and she replied she had no desire to ever have anything to do with a restaurant again. “Besides, Mr. Caraway, you know how I feel about being called Gwennie.” Denny flashed a quick grin, remembering full well the only time, years ago, he had called her Gwennie, and the negative reaction he had gotten.
After picking up a few staples, they gassed up the truck and headed north. Despite the brief time they were there, the two of them were happy to leave the city and head back home. The drive north was uneventful but pleasant, their conversation making the miles roll by more quickly.
It was good getting back to the homestead. Even Gwen was glad to be alone again, just the two of them. She was adapting to the isolated life, having been surrounded by more than her share of people after years at the cafe, and with her large circle of friends, though it had diminished over the years.
Gwen had already been experiencing the same type of changes Denny went through when he had begun homesteading, the “clearing” of his senses, being away from all the noise, excessive lights, and smells of urban living. Her sight and sense of smell had sharpened, and she was able to see things differently, without the excessive input she had experienced, even in a little town such as Hazel.
One day, she questioned Denny while they were sitting comfortably in the cabin together, about something that concerned her.
“Denny, do you ever seem to hear voices while you’re out somewhere? Sometimes I think I do, and wonder if I’m losing it, being out here in the bush all the time.”
Denny chuckled and told Gwen, “Yeah, I had some funny moments after I’d been on my first homestead for a while, and yes, I do hear faint voices, especially if there’s a bit of a breeze blowing. I never have resolved it, and the few people I’ve asked about it, such as Ed Gundross, who had heard them too, didn’t know for sure what it was. Truth to tell, I think it has something to do with the land itself. The bush is alive, so who’s to say if somehow we don’t tap into what’s going on, being a regular part of things out here.”
That gave Gwen food for thought. Though she wasn’t the spiritual person Denny was, or had become, she valued his perception of things, and let it go, after telling Denny she wished she could understand what the voices were saying.
Still, even after their discussion, when she heard the voices they gave her a little case of the willies.
Chapter Twenty Four
A few weeks after they had taken the body into Salcha, Denny and Gwen had unexpected visitors. Of course, any visitors to their remote location were unusual. They were in the cabin having some soup in the middle of the day when they heard the sounds of wheelers coming in.
Going outside, they saw Charlie Brady on an ATV, with an old Native woman sitting behind him, and another wheeler with two younger people on it. It was extremely rare for him to come out to the homestead, usually on some official business when he was still on duty. Denny sensed this was because of the man they had found.
The old woman hopped off the wheeler before Brady had dismounted. Her spryness belied her visible age.
With a sparkle in her eye she said, “That mister Brady must have hit every bad bump he could find, just to beat up my old bones!”
Charlie smiled at Denny and winked. “Denny, I’ve brought you some special guests. This sweet old girl is Emma Pete, the mother of the man you found. The other two folks here are Dorothy and Robert, his children. His wife couldn’t come out. They wanted to meet and thank you for what you did, so I guided them out today. You’ve done some good trail work. The ride was a lot easier than I expected, and you built a good bridge.”
Emma came up to Denny and took both his hands. Her action caught him off guard, so he just stood there, waiting for her to speak. Emma gave him a long look with her clear, bright eyes, but said nothing. It became obvious to him how grateful she was, even without her speaking. Then she went over to Gwen and did the same. Gwen couldn’t help herself, and gave Emma a long hug.
Taking a step back, Emma said, “You two people were very kind to do what you did for a stranger. We all want to thank you so much for bringing Henry home to us. We weren’t sure if we’d ever see him again. That devil alcohol finally took him from us. We tried to help him, but it’s a h
ard path to walk away from.”
Then Dorothy and Robert came over and shook hands with them both. Gwen and Denny invited them in to have something to eat, and they all went inside the cabin. Emma and Dorothy sat at the little table, while Denny, Charlie, and Robert stood with coffee mugs in hand, and Gwen got busy preparing a meal. The elderly woman and her granddaughter got up and went over to chat with her and to help.
“My dad was a hard man,” Robert told the other men. “He could be mean when he drank, but he always took care of us and was a good hunter even when he was into his bottle. We will miss him. At least we have him nearby now, instead of being lost somewhere, thanks to you.” Out of his jacket pocket, he took an old hunting knife in a stained leather sheath, with a well-worn blade obviously sharpened many times, and offered it to Denny. “I would like you to have this; it was my dad’s.”
That got to Denny. He thanked Robert and patted him on the shoulder, while Charlie looked on and nodded knowingly.
The little group of people spent time together in the log cabin, talking about Henry and village life, and what it was like for them to live in Fairbanks. Gwen made salmon chowder from fish they had caught in Lanyard Creek and canned up, and some fry bread, using Denny’s recipe. They all stood or sat, quietly talking and having the meal together. Emma remarked the fry bread was good, just like they made at home. Denny told her where and how he got the recipe. The old woman smiled and nodded approvingly at the story.
Dorothy took out some smoked salmon from a carry bag she had brought. It was the best Denny, Gwen, and Charlie had ever tried. Emma smiled and said the flavor came from an old Athabascan recipe. When Gwen asked her what it was, Emma smiled widely and said, “It’s marinated in Kikkoman Soy Sauce.” And then she laughed a laugh that filled the cabin, and soon they were all laughing with her.
When the hour grew late, the Petes put up a tent in the yard beside the cabin to spend the night. It was a long ride back to the road, and Emma especially needed to rest.
Charlie, Denny, and Robert stayed up a while, standing by the creek, talking about life in general, or simply standing, sharing the moment. Though the three of them had different stories to tell, they shared a common bond, the Alaska bush, and didn’t need to talk to appreciate each other’s company.
Dorothy yelled from the tent flap, “Robert, Emma says to come get some sleep!” Robert grinned and said, “I better go, or Emma won’t give me any peace. See you in the morning.”
Denny helped Charlie put up his small tent. It was stained and patched in several places, Charlie having used it for years, while working and hunting.
Gwen got up early, having set a large bowl of sourdough starter overnight to make flapjacks in the morning, and brewed a full pot of coffee. When everyone was up, they had a fine breakfast of pancakes, eggs, and lots of coffee, as well as more smoked salmon. The little group sat a while afterwards, quietly visiting. They all knew that it was unlikely they would come together again, but there was a bond between them now that would always be there.
All too soon, it was time for the Petes and Charlie to head back to Salcha. Dorothy gave Gwen a beautiful beaded hair clasp, and then they all said good-bye. Denny told them they could come visit any time and if they ever needed anything, to let him know.
“You already gave us the best thing possible, Denny Caraway,” Emma said. “You are a good man.”
Charlie said he’d see them soon, and then they left, the wheelers grumbling off into the distance.
Denny and Gwen stood listening until all sounds of the departure faded away, leaving them once again to their home by the creek. Although the two of them agreed it had been a special time, they were still glad to get back to their regular routines. Gwen went inside to straighten up and Denny began stockpiling more firewood, a never-ending task in the bush.
Chapter Twenty Five
When Denny wasn’t gathering wood for the next winter and working on a bath house, he and Gwen took hikes so she could get familiar with the country. Later that summer, she and Denny caught silver salmon as they made their run up Lanyard. They smoked much of the fish and canned a large amount too. It was a good supplement to the left-over moose meat they had canned up in early spring. They went to a large meadow about two miles from the homestead where Denny picked berries, and Gwen went crazy, picking all she could load into the several tin cans they’d brought along. There were blueberries, crowberries, and even some low bush cranberries in the middle of the meadow. Both the cans were full in no time. Gwen wanted to go back while the berries were still going strong, and several days later she and Denny returned. As they began hiking back to the cabin, he stopped and turned to look at the meadow. Denny quietly told Gwen to look, and she saw that a big bear had come out of the trees at the far edge of the meadow and begun browsing.
“When I last came out here, Gwen, in the middle of picking I looked up to see a big grizzly grazing on berries not one hundred yards from me. Well, even though I would normally move away to put some space between us, it felt okay the way it was, so I kept on picking and kept one eye on the old bruiser. By the time my bucket was full, he had closed the gap by half, but seemed perfectly content to share the berries with me. Still, you never know about bears, so I slowly drifted away and headed back to the cabin.”
“Do you think this is the same bear?”
“I don’t know, Gwen. Let’s head home.”
The next morning, Denny woke up to find Gwen gone, a fresh pot of coffee cooking on the stove. A note on the table said: “Denny, I just had to get some more berries. Don’t worry, I have Dad’s rifle with me. You get back on the firewood, mister.
Love, Gwen.”
At first, Denny was concerned, and was going to head out to the meadow, then he stopped himself, realizing it was better to let her be. She was Alaskan born and bred, and would be all right. Besides, she probably wouldn’t appreciate him trailing her, as if he didn’t think she could handle some berry picking. Denny made himself a big peanut butter and honey sandwich on some sourdough bread, swilled down a mug of coffee, and went out to cut and split more firewood.
In mid-afternoon, Gwen came back with both buckets full. Denny had worked up a big stack of split firewood and knocked off for the day to help Gwen with her treasure.
“Were you worried about me, Mister Caraway?”
“Why would I be worried Gwen, you can handle yourself out there. I got busy on the firewood as I was ordered to by my boss lady.”
“Oh, poo, just help me with these berries.”
In the evening, they canned most of the berries for later use. Gwen left some out and made a delicious berry upside down cake that they ate late that night, sitting quietly at the table, enjoying the evening and one another’s company.
“I love you.”
“What did you just say, Denny?”
“I love you. Want to tie the knot and make things legal?”
Gwen grew quiet, thinking, giving Denny a serious look as she did. Caraway held his tongue, waiting for her to answer.
“Is that something you need, Denny?”
“Actually Gwen, I’m fine the way things are. I thought you might want to get hitched.”
“No, I’m good, but if you feel the same way a year from now, let’s do it, okay?”
“Works for me.”
When they went to bed, Denny noticed Gwen was somehow sweeter and more open when they made love. His offer must have touched her, he decided. Next year, he would remember to ask again.
The days and weeks went by, full of shared moments for the two homesteaders. Whether it was daily chores, or exciting times in the bush, it all went to making their life together better than either could have expected or hoped for. Gwen knew living with Denny on his remote homestead was going to be wonderful, and she was never disappointed. She knew it was good for Denny too. She could tell by his behavior, the smiles and laughter coming from him. The seriousness which had dominated his demeanor had faded, though when something needed
to be done, he was all business.
The incident that made Gwen realize how much Denny was a part of the country, happened one late summer morning when they had walked out of the cabin together to go down to the creek for water. Rounding the corner, they had come face to face with a mother grizzly and her two cubs walking along the bank. Immediately the mother bear went into defensive mode and Gwen was positive they were in for a bad time.
Denny, seemingly unshaken by the situation, began talking calmly and quietly to the bear, who was moving her front end side to side, not sure what she was going to do, moaning in distress. Gwen was wise enough to stand still and listen to Denny.
“Hey, mama, it’s okay, we’re not going to hurt your kids. They’re really nice cubs and I hope they have a good long life. We’ll wait until you’re gone before we get our water. There’s no trouble here, no trouble.”
When he first began talking, the bear took a couple of steps forward, and Gwen thought a charge was coming, but the bear stopped moving and seemed to be listening to Denny. Finally, she slowly turned away, keeping an eye on the two humans. The cubs had already run away some distance up the creek, and the mother bear soon joined them, and they continued on their way.
Gwen didn’t relax until the bears were out of sight, and Denny didn’t move, either.
Gwen said, “I think I need a cup of coffee.”
“Sounds like a good idea to me, Gwen, a very good idea.”
Chapter Twenty Six
Two years went by, good years and full. Life, however, has a way of putting people on a different path, when least expected or desired.
Denny walked out of the cabin to find Gwen sitting on the wood splitting stump, her arms on her legs, head hanging down.
“Gwen, are you okay?”
“I don’t know, Denny, I was splitting some wood and I got dizzy, and now I have some pain in my abdomen. Think I’ll lie down a while.” Gwen got up slowly and went into the cabin, Denny following right behind her, quite concerned.
