by Warren Troy
“Don’t worry, Mr. Caraway, I’ll be fine, just need a rest. Probably woman stuff. At my age, things change.”
Still, Denny was worried of course. He kept looking in on her as he went about his daily chores. Gwen slept for hours, and he finally came in and made some meat broth for her to have when she woke up. When she did wake up and drank some of the broth from a mug, she went outside and got sick, finally coming back in to lie down again.
The next morning, she seemed okay, though she only had a piece of toasted sourdough bread and some tea. Gwen went out to the old cabin to get a hoe to clear between the rows of vegetables they had started indoors and transplanted when the soil warmed up. She had only worked a short while when she leaned the hoe against the cabin wall and went inside to sit in her chair.
When Denny came in from hauling several ten-foot lengths of wood behind the wheeler for cutting and splitting, he saw through the open door Gwen sleeping in the chair. Now he was really upset. This wasn’t like her at all.
As the days went on, she continued to have no appetite and began losing weight, continued to be tired, and complained of pain in her gut. She stubbornly refused to go out with Denny to Fairbanks to get a check-up, until the pain got so bad one day she collapsed, doubled up on the floor.
The next morning, Denny put Gwen up behind him on the wheeler, and they headed to the road. It took longer than usual because he rode very slowly. When they got to the highway, Denny rode right over to the North Star Cafe.
Gwen remained sitting on the wheeler when he went in to see Charlie Brady. When he told him what was happening, Charlie told him to get her right up to Fairbanks memorial. “I’m not going to say what I think Denny. I am familiar with these symptoms, because my wife had them. Just get her up there. I’m going to call the doctor who took care of my wife, and let him know you’re coming. He’s very capable, and someone you can trust.”
Troubled by Charlie’s words, Denny took Gwen over to the trailer, got the truck running, and headed up the highway, going as fast as was safe, and sometimes faster.
A life which had been ideal had turned into something dark and disturbing. Denny had never been in a situation such as this. He had never cared for someone as he did for Gwen. She had become the center of his world.
She sat silently on the seat, head back with her eyes closed, wincing once and a while. Denny felt impotent. He had always been able to take care of things, and this situation was something he had no control over and he didn’t like it.
When they got up to the hospital, he took her into the E.R. and asked for Dr. Hanover, who came down in a few minutes, introduced himself, and began giving orders to the nurses about how to deal with Gwen.
“I’m sorry Denny, but you’ll need to wait until I figure out what is going on. It could be a while. I talked to Charlie Brady on the phone and he told me what you had said. He’s a good man. If you’re a friend of his, I’m glad to help.” Walking away, he left Denny to wait and worry.
It was some hours later when Dr. Hanover showed up again.
“Mr. Caraway, we’ve run some initial tests and I’m sorry to tell you this, but it is quite likely your wife has cancer, probably pancreatic. We’ll have to do some exploratory surgery to be sure.”
Denny stood there in disbelief. This wasn’t supposed to be, not for her, not for them.
“Doc, you do what you have to do to be sure. I have to tell you, we don’t have medical coverage. We’re homesteaders. We have some money but I don’t know if…”
“Denny, don’t worry about the money for now. Let’s just see what we find. I can schedule her for tomorrow morning. I don’t have anything else this important going on right now, so we’ll just get her in, okay?”
Denny just nodded slightly.
“We have her sedated on pain medication, but you can see her if you like. She probably won’t be very communicative.”
Of course, Denny did. Gwen was very groggy, drugged up as she was, but she knew he was there and held onto his hand, until she was sleeping quietly.
Caraway felt things were way over his head as he walked out of the hospital later into the fresh air. The nurse had told him to come back in the morning if he liked, because Gwen would definitely be sleeping through the night.
Denny didn’t know what to do. Finally he started up the truck and went to see the only person he knew in Fairbanks, Nathan Barker.
When he drove up to Chena Ridge and knocked on the door of the beautiful log house, he didn’t notice its wonderful construction. The door opened and a petite blonde woman opened the door. She was Nathan’s ex, Caroline’s mother, someone he had met once before at the house. She took one look at Denny’s face and called out to Nathan. She explained to Denny, “He’s just back from Taiwan. There’s a big project he’s putting together there. Oh, here he is now.”
Nathan was smiling when he came up to shake Caraway’s hand, but seeing the look on Denny’s face, the smile disappeared.
“Denny, you look like you could use a drink.”
“It would be good if that was all I needed, Nathan.”
They settled in Barker’s den, with two glasses of bourbon, and Denny told Nathan why he was in Fairbanks. The obvious concern on his friend’s face made Denny feel self-conscious, and he said as much. Nathan told him it was fine he had come, and anything he could do, he would. He offered Denny a place to stay while he was in town.
Nathan was another solid, decent man, as was Ed Gundross, Charlie Brady, and George Whiting too, the old fellow he had bought his first homestead land from. He felt fortunate to know these men, two of them gone now.
After a while, Nathan suggested they get some rest. He had returned from the Orient a few hours before and was very tired. He told Denny the room he had stayed in before was all made up, and he should consider it home until he had to do something else. Denny gave the man a warm handshake and went to get some sleep, which didn’t come until the early morning hours.
Denny showered up and went over to the hospital. Gwen was just going into surgery when he got there. He had a moment to hold her hand and kiss her forehead before she was wheeled into the O.R.
He sat in the waiting room, barely controlling his emotions. Denny hated waiting for anything, and it was all he could do to sit still, imagining what was going on. He finally went out to his truck, broke out his pipe and tobacco, and had a smoke. Normally, this would have calmed him down, but not this time. Tapping out the half-burned tobacco, he went back inside to sit again.
It was another two hours before Dr. Hanover came in. He had his paper mask down around his neck and Denny couldn’t help but notice the several tiny blood stains on his scrubs. He gave an involuntary little jerk of his head.
“Sit down, Denny, let’s talk.”
“Just tell me what’s going on Doc, please.”
Knowing this man wanted straight talk, Hanover responded, “Gwen has advanced pancreatic cancer. It’s been spreading for some time. It’s often hard to catch right away. We could operate, but it is so metastasized I’m afraid we would only cause her more discomfort without resolving the problem. The pancreas and liver are completely involved. I’m sorry.”
“Would chemotherapy help?”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Caraway, it has gone too far, and is too intrusive. I think chemo would only cause her great discomfort, and probably weaken her further.”
“Well, what the hell can we do?”
“I hate having to tell you this, but the best thing to do is to make her as comfortable as possible, and not much more. You’re entitled to another opinion of course. You can see her in a couple of hours, but we’ll probably keep her on some pain meds. If there is anything I can do, let me know.”
The doctor began walking away, and then turned and said, “Oh, a Nathan Barker called the hospital. He said, since you are an employee of his, you’re fully covered. He gave all your pertinent information. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Denny stood there in the impersonal wai
ting room, numb from what the doctor had told him. When his mind cleared, he went to see Gwen, who was still asleep. He sat next to her bed, surrounded by monitors and plastic lines, trying to make sense of it. He couldn’t. Denny fell asleep in the chair.
“Denny,” a faint voice called. Again, “Denny.” He woke up to see Gwen looking at him through dulled eyes. Reaching over, he took her hand. She squeezed his slightly.
“Did you talk to the doctor?”
“Yes, my love, I did.”
“They’re not going to be able to fix me, are they?”
Denny sat looking at his sweetheart, before shaking his head. A tear rolled out of his eye.
“Don’t you dare, Denny Caraway, don’t you dare.” You stay strong, Mr. Homesteader, please.”
Denny found the strength to get himself together, for Gwen.
Dr. Hanover came in just then, to talk to Gwen. “Has Denny talked to you about things?”
“He didn’t have to, doctor. I know what’s happening. How long do I have to stay here?”
“A couple of days. Do you plan on returning to your homestead? Is it a rough ride?”
Denny nodded. “Pretty rough; we’d have to take an ATV in. But we have a trailer in Salcha we can stay in a while, until her incisions have healed.”
“How long do we have?” Gwen asked.
Denny looked down when she asked the doctor.
“Not long, I’m afraid, Gwen; weeks, perhaps a few months. But the last bit of time will be pretty hard without pain meds, which we will provide for you.”
“No more pain medicine,” Gwen said as firmly as she could. Looking at Denny, she said, with a pleading look. “There are two things I want from you, Mr. Caraway.”
“Just name it, Gwen.”
“I want you to marry me, and I want to go home, soon.”
Denny looked at the doctor.
Hanover said, “We have a chaplain here at the hospital. Shall I get him?”
Before Denny could reply, Gwen said to the doctor, “Yeah, go get him, I’ll wait here,” and winked at him.
After the doctor left, Gwen asked Denny if he thought they were rushing into things. That got a little smile from him.
“Denny, we have to find a way to get me home soon. I can feel it.”
“I’ll find a way, I promise.”
Just then, the doctor returned with a man carrying a bible and some papers. A few minutes later, Gwen and Denny were married, using two little rubber bands for rings. It was a bittersweet moment for Denny, but it brought Gwen some joy, so he was glad.
Gwen needed to rest then, so after thanking the chaplain and the doctor and nurse who were witnesses to the marriage, Denny left her side, and went over to the Barker house. Nathan was distraught by what Denny told him, and restated his willingness to help with whatever Denny needed. Denny said he needed to take him up on the offer and told him of his plan. Nathan said, “That’s no problem, Denny, no problem at all. Just tell me when. I’ll be here another week, getting some final details in order for the Taiwan project. It’s big, the most complex piece of work we’ve ever done. But, let’s make things work for you and your dear wife first.”
The next day, Denny talked to Dr. Hanover, discussing what he should expect and what he would need. They spent the rest of the day getting things arranged.
Two mornings later they had Gwen ready, and at noon a helicopter belonging to Barker Surveying landed at the hospital heliport to take Gwen and Denny to the homestead. A short time later they were there, Gwen handling the flight well, the amazing views from the helicopter helping to take her mind off her condition.
Nathan Barker went with them and helped Denny get Gwen all settled in, with the supplies the hospital gave them. Five minutes later, they were alone again in their cabin. Being back seemed to make Gwen feel better.
Denny took stock of what he had brought for her. He read the detailed instructions, planning to follow them exactly, and had everything neatly arranged on the little spruce table.
The next morning, Denny heard the sound of a chopper coming in, and went outside to see his wheeler suspended under the Barker helicopter. They gently set it down and hovered while Denny unhooked the cargo straps, waved, and watched the chopper go. A note taped to the top of the seat said, “Denny, anything, any time. God Bless, Nathan.” A lump formed in Caraway’s throat. Going inside, he shut the door to see to his wife’s needs.
The next six weeks were filled with moments of tears, joy, and pain. Loyal and devoted to her as he was, Denny took care of Gwen in all the ways she needed. The hardest thing was when Gwen could no longer eat, except for water and tea. He had brought out some cottage cheese and yogurt, keeping it in the cooler box. After a while, even that was too much. His tough Alaska wife quickly withered away in front of him. The two sweethearts spent hours talking about their lives, the high and low points, their dreams and desires.
It got to the point that Gwen was sleeping more than she was awake. She had become sensitive to any physical contact, because of the pain, and had begun asking for pain medication. Denny couldn’t sleep close to her and either slept on a pallet of blankets and sleeping bags on the floor, or sat up for hours, dozing off in Gwen’s old family chair, which he put right next to the bed.
And then, one morning, he awoke to Gwen’s hand on his arm, but she was gone, a little smile on her face. He remembered her saying in a tiny voice the night before, “As long as I’m with you now, it’s okay.”
He had replied, hardly able to speak, “You’ll always be with me, Gwen.”
Denny sat there for hours, not making a sound, holding Gwen’s hand.
He walked up the rise between the cabin and the little lake, and dug her grave between two young birches. The soil was full of cobbles, but Denny kept going until it was done to his satisfaction.
Going to the cabin, he wrapped Gwen in her favorite quilt, made by her maternal grandmother in Ireland, carried her up the low hill, and gently placed her in the ground. Though not a very religious man, he said a silent prayer when she was covered, asking God to take her to him and keep her safe. Unable to hold it in, he said out loud, “You blessed me when you brought her into my life and cursed me when you took her away.” The toughened homesteader fell to his knees then, and cried as only the truly broken-hearted can.
Denny had left no marker, so he alone knew where Gwen lay. It was the way she wanted it.
For the next two days, Denny sat in the cabin, not eating or drinking, merely sitting as if in a trance. If a bear or wolf had wandered in, it wouldn’t have made any difference.
Then, on the morning of the third day, as if he had gone through some metamorphosis, Denny got up, drank several dippers full of water, and made himself a good breakfast.
Taking only his .44, and his Winchester 30-06, Denny headed the wheeler down the trail towards the road. There were things he had to do.
Denny let caution go by the wayside as he rode the wheeler fast and hard. He reached the road sooner than ever before. Riding over to the North Star Cafe, he took the Winchester in with him. Charlie Brady looked up in surprise to see him walking in, rifle in hand.
Walking up to Charlie, he handed him the rifle, and said, simply, “Take care of this for me Charlie.”
Taken off-guard, Brady was going to say something, until he saw what was in Denny’s eyes, the pain and intense sadness, and something else he didn’t like. There was a powerful glint of anger there, too. Charlie realized there was only one thing that would have allowed Denny to come in alone. Gwen was gone. As soon as the realization came to Brady, Denny, who must have seen it, nodded, turned and left.
Denny went over to the trailer, found the title and went to Eliot’s home. Elliot’s grandson was working in the yard. When Elliot saw Denny at the door and let him in, he knew almost immediately what was up. There was no way Denny would be there alone unless he truly was by himself. Denny kept talk to a minimum, telling Elliot he was giving him the trailer and he could let his gra
ndson stay there if he wanted. Elliot, being the wise old fellow, simply nodded, shook Denny’s hand, and watched the woodsman go out to his wheeler and disappear.
Caraway rode back in on the trail to the homestead as fast as he had ridden out. Going into the old cabin, he ate some moose jerky and fry bread, took his big pack from the old cabin, and began putting basic necessities into it, until he had everything he figured he needed. Looking around, he nodded to himself, walked out of the cabin without closing the door, and strapped the pack onto the wheeler’s rear rack. Slipping Gwen’s father’s rifle over his head and shoulder by the sling, he started up the wheeler and headed down the back trail behind the cabin, going deeper into the bush. When he ran out of any trail, he bushwhacked until the ATV ran out of gas, dismounted, hoisted the pack and walked away.
Chapter Twenty Seven
Summer was winding down. The first frost hadn’t appeared in the morning hours yet, and the leaves on the birches and aspens had only begun turning. There were still a few days of August left.
Charlie Brady had hoped there might be a little resurgence of the warmer part of summer, but it hadn’t come. The thermometer read thirty-six degrees when he opened the cafe that morning.
As he got things going in the kitchen, Charlie’s thoughts turned towards Denny Caraway, as they often did. It had been over a year since he knew Denny had disappeared off his homestead. Ever since Caraway had brought Gwen out to the homestead, the two of them had come in from the bush every six weeks to two months to check the mail, and to visit Charlie and old man Elliot. Gwen being with him had brought Denny back into the human fold, socializing the man again, after years of solitary living in the bush.
After Gwen became sick and then passed away all too quickly, Denny had shown up that one time, gave Brady his 30-06, nodded to him, and left. It was then Brady knew Gwen was gone, and the last time he had seen Caraway.
Four months after the brief interaction, wondering what was going on with Denny, Charlie got a friend of his who owned a small bush plane to fly him in to the homestead on Lanyard Creek. They found a spot large enough to land the little plane about a quarter mile away. Charlie went walking in and what he saw surprised him, knowing how Denny felt about the place.
