“Rocky,” X said softly as she stared at the ceiling. She reached down and picked up his hand, then rubbed his palm with her thumb. She sighed at the sensation. It felt as if her spirit was being sated, her soul nourished by unseen energies flowing through his soft yet tough skin to hers. She wanted to ask him if he really was attracted to her, then remembered his admonishment about her having imbibed alcohol. She swallowed her original question and changed from seeking romance to being silly. “You never did tell me why you’re called Rocky. You don’t look like a boxer to me,” she said and giggled nervously.
“It’s Sergei.”
She turned her head towards him. “How’s Rocky a nickname for Sergei?”
“My name’s Sergei Rachmaninoff. And no, I don’t play the piano.”
“Huh?”
“It’s a classical music joke. He was a composer—concertos, symphonies, long hair music. We’re probably related somehow or other—not that I can prove it. Nor that I’d want to. Like my grandmother said, we’re part Russian. The men who came over and forced themselves on our culture—and women—weren’t invited.”
“And neither was I…” she said, and dropped his hand.
He picked it up again. “I think someone from the borough did ask for specialists to help with the excavation, but sometimes kismet is involved, too.”
“I know Kismet was a play, but what is it exactly?”
“Let’s just say the two of us—lying here together, maybe even wanting each other—is kismet. A happy accident that no one could have predicted.”
“Illogical but potentially wonderful.”
“Certified genius,” he said, squeezing her hand and bringing it close to his chest. “But I really need to get some sleep.”
His head lolled back, the slow thump-thump, thump-thump of his heart letting her know he had fallen asleep. She knew what kismet was, but now she knew he felt the same way about her.
Thump-thump, thump-thump. She felt her heart pace his and concentrated on the warmth and comfort of his closeness. They were in synch. Connected. She sighed one last time and fell into a contented, pain-free slumber.
***
“You two going to sleep all day?” Grandma hollered from the bedroom doorway.
“Not if you keep coming in and shouting,” Rocky mumbled and pulled part of the afghan over his head.
“Why are you in bed with ‘not your girlfriend’ with your clothes on? Something wrong with you?”
“We were up all night, mending cut bodies or being mended. We’re just trying to catch up.”
Grandma snickered.
“On sleep, Grandma. If there’s something you need in here, go ahead and get it, but leave us alone.”
“Sassy boy!” She poked him under the chin with her new walking stick, showing him the narwhal carved into the handle.
Rocky pulled the cover off his head. “I’ll look at it closer later but only if you leave me alone.”
“I’ll tell you the good news, then you can go back to sleep,” she said and giggled at her last word.
He pulled the afghan off his head. “Go ahead. I know you won’t leave me alone until you do.”
She poked him in the hip with her cane. “Why you sleep with a pretty woman with your pants on? Are you sure you’re my grandson?”
“You’d know better than I would,” he said. “Now, what’s so important?”
“I’m moving in with Joe. You and ‘not your girlfriend’ can have the house. I have everything I need already.” She wiggled her fanny and grinned. “Joe keeps everything he needs with him all the time, too,” then hummed, “Uh huh!”
“Congratulations, Grandma,” Rocky said, then mumbled, “again,” so only X could hear him.
Clomp! Clomp! Clomp! Grandma made her way to her rocking chair noisily, grabbed her bag of yarn and crochet project, and was out the door without another word.
“What was that all about?” X asked.
“She moves in with him every few months. It might last an hour or a month, depending on whether alcohol is involved. Joe’s nephew moved to Fairbanks, so his booze supplier isn’t around anymore. I hid the last of Grandma’s rheumatism medicine, so they might make it a month or more this time. They manage to keep themselves happy longer when liquor isn’t involved.”
Rocky sat up and ran his hand through his hair and yawned. “I don’t think I’ll be able to go back to sleep knowing that she’ll be back at least three more times for ‘one more thing I forgot.’”
Clomp! Clomp! Clomp!
And there she was again.
“I forgot my wooden spoon. Sometimes Joe’s a naughty boy and needs to get spanked.”
Rocky rolled his eyes and said softly, “Only two more to go…”
“I heard that!” Grandma called, then stomped out the door.
“How old is she? And how long has she needed a cane?”
“Grandma’s only about fifty, or so I’ve estimated. She was only about sixteen when she had my mother and my mother was about the same age when she had me. And as far as the cane, she doesn’t need it. I think it’s a prop so she can justify the need for her medicine. I’ve seen her dance around the room first thing in the morning when even I’m stiff.”
X giggled into her bandaged hand, then cleared her throat.
Rocky copied her throat-clearing and amended his statement with a pink tinge of embarrassment. “First thing in the morning when even I’m achy.”
“Might have something to do with sleeping on the couch.” X rolled over on her side and watched Rocky as he stretched, ready to start the day at two in the afternoon. “So, if you’re going to be at this place by yourself, would you mind having a roommate?”
The dimple on the right side of Rocky’s face deepened, then disappeared as he realized he might be leaving before she did. “We’ll see. You might want to get in touch with the hotel before making a final decision, though. Life can get crazy around this house.”
“I don’t mind. Crazy can be good.” She held up her bound hand. “And I promise to be more careful with breakable objects and loose rugs.”
***
“Ah, I think I found the problem,” the hotel clerk said. He winked at Rocky, noticing the auburn-haired college girl in the faded blue kuspuk standing elbow-to-elbow, almost holding onto him. Looks like his old classmate finally found his red raven.
“It appears that Dr. Jackson had the single room for you cancelled, but at the same time, upgraded his reservation to a king-sized bed and added a second guest. And yes, the guest’s name was Alexandra Oppenheimer.”
X grunted and shook her head, the feral sound coming from her throat causing both Rocky and the clerk to stifle their laughs.
“I take it that he did that without your knowledge or permission…”
X looked at the clerk and snarled, “What was your first hint?” then grimaced in embarrassment at her snippiness. She shook her head. “I can’t believe the nerve of that man! He’ll probably claim cost-cutting as the reason.”
“Sounds to me more like bull moose rutting,” the clerk said.
Rocky shook his head at his friend in silent admonishment.
“Oops! I’m sorry, Ms. Oppenheimer. That was inappropriate.”
A full laugh escaped from her this time. “It may be inappropriate, but it’s very accurate. Well, sir, I thank you for your help in solving the mystery. Tell me, was my room pre-paid by the university?”
He looked through the index cards and pulled one of them out. “Only the first two days. Looks like the funds were transferred over to the upgrade on his room.”
Rocky put his hand on her shoulder. “Either they didn’t think you’d last too long on the project or that you’d wind up in his room within that time.”
“I sure wish someone would do something about sexual harassment. It took years for women to get the vote, and we’re still trying to get equal pay for equal work, but the idea that we’re just bubble-headed playthings—eager to please the first man who makes a pass
at us, that we’re willing to put out to get ahead—simply just won’t go away. It’s 1994 and enough is enough!”
“You’re just living in the wrong culture,” the clerk said. “Most Native Americans have had a matriarchal society since, well, forever.”
“Good,” X said. “Then there’s hope for the human race. I’m beginning to feel like I was born near the wrong ocean. It should have been the Arctic, not the Atlantic.”
“Never too late to move,” the clerk said and winked.
X blushed, then grinned. She took Rocky’s elbow, “Come on. Let’s take a walk and maybe I can get rid of some of this anger. Dr. Jackass, ergh!”
After walking for a few minutes, X’s rage had subsided, her face upturned into the afternoon breeze in a smile. The ocean was still two blocks away, but she could feel the salty moistness on her cheeks, washing away her frustration. Curiosity piqued, she pointed to the three houses in a row with what looked like pelts hanging over the wooden fences. “Are those what I think they are?” she asked.
“If you think they’re seals, yes. You didn’t think folks around here got all their food from Q’s mini market or the big store, did you?”
“No, I guess not. It looks like a bountiful harvest of animals instead of corn or grapes.”
“We don’t have grapes, but next month the berries will be ripe. Families will pack up and go out to the fish camps to bring in fish and gather fruit. There’s lots of food around here if you know when and where to get it.”
“And how to preserve it, I’m sure. I never thought about how you got the seal oil for the Eskimo ice cream. Pretty sure you use it for lots of other stuff, too.”
“Cooking, heating, lighting… Before electricity, that’s what we used for heat and light. It’s light all day long at this time of year, but in the winter, it’s dark—or at least twilight—both day and night for two solid months. Even when the sun does come back up in late January,” Rocky put one arm around her and pointed to the south with the other, “it hangs low on the horizon, just a distant red ball, sneaking a peak at the sky from just above the ground. Every day, the arc grows wider and higher.” He walked her around so she was facing north, his hand still pointing up, “Until the sun’s all the way over here, over the ocean. Happens every year, just like calendar-work.”
“There’s no such word.”
“Maybe not in English,” he said, and winked.
They walked toward the aroma of yeast and oregano. “Do you want pizza? It’s been a long time since I’ve eaten.”
“Okay, but you’re buyin’. I spent most of my money on chili and chips.”
“I can do that. Do you want to eat in or take it back to Grandma’s house?”
X couldn’t contain her grin. “You’re such a gentleman for asking. Let’s take it back to Grandma’s but ask for napkins so we don’t have to wash any dishes. I didn’t see a dog at your house and I don’t think Q hires Fish Face out as a dishwasher.”
“We do have water at the house for cooking, cleaning, and drinking, but we have to get it from the washeteria. That’s another experience all together. You may have to check it out soon if your luggage doesn’t show up.”
X fingered the kuspuk, pulling it away from her tee shirt-covered belly. “For now, this works great and I don’t miss wearing a bra. Actually, I think I could get used to wearing kuspuks. I might have to do something about another set of pants, though.”
“Why?” Rocky asked, his mischievous grin making his dark brown eyes sparkle. He leaned into her hair and asked, “Don’t you like getting into my pants?”
“Rocky!” she squealed. “Are you the same blushing man I met yesterday?”
He stepped back and gave her a puzzled look. “No,” he said. “That was before I had you in my life. You’re right, though. Blushing or not, I don’t feel like the same man. I feel whole, complete. Do you know what I mean?”
X moved closer, into his arm that had opened out when he saw her intent. “Yes, I know exactly what you mean because I feel it, too.”
“Kismet?” he asked.
“I don’t know, but whatever it is, I like it!”
“Me, too. But right now, I’m ready for calories. Pick your topping, then we can wait on the deck while they bake it. I’d say watch the sunset, but that’d take too long.”
“Pepperoni’s fine with me,” she said.
“How about reindeer sausage instead?”
X couldn’t help but wrinkle her nose, then realized that Rocky wouldn’t have suggested it if it was too extreme for her tastes. After all, he had watched out for her with the Eskimo ice cream and berries at bingo the night before. “What the heck; I’ll try it.”
Twenty minutes of gull and tern watching later, the pair were on their way back to the house, both quiet in apprehension. Where did they to go from here?
Rocky had shared his feelings with her—sort of—but would he just be a summer fling to her? A boy toy she’d toss aside and maybe remember twenty years later? Besides, where would she be in a month when he was in the army? He only had two weeks left before he had to report to Anchorage. He couldn’t take her with him, and leaving her here with Grandma might be okay for the summer, but how would she handle the cold and darkness of winter? She’d need money, and from what she had said, she didn’t have much for savings. It was doubtful her mother would help her out if she stayed in Alaska, a remote site full of ‘not proper people,’ totally unsuitable for a college graduate of her breeding. There weren’t any paying jobs for archaeologists in Barrow. Besides, she’d probably starve if she lived on canned chili and evaporated milk.
X saw the scowl on Rocky’s face as he pondered their future. She’d change his frown into a full smile of satiation after they’d eaten and had a little one-on-one time. Hopefully, Grandma had popped in and retrieved all the ‘just one more things’ she needed for her extended honeymoon with Joe.
Rocky opened the door for her, then stepped aside to let her in first. “Watch your step!”
“This time and every time for as long as I cross this threshold,” she said, taking an exaggerated step down onto the mud mat in front of the door. “Looks like we’re alone again.”
“At least, for now,” he said and set the pizza on the kitchen table.
X pulled the paper napkins from the restaurant out of her kuspuk pouch and set them on the table. “These pockets are sure handy. I’ve seen sweatshirts like these. I think they call them hoodies.”
“They’ll probably catch on. Front pockets are convenient for storing goods and for keeping your hands warm. Of course,” he pulled a piece of pizza out of the box and handed it to her along with a napkin, “holding hot—or still mostly warm—pizza is good for that, too.”
X looked at the sliced meat on the cheese-and-sauced flat bread. “It looks like pepperoni. I thought you said reindeer sausage.”
“Pepperoni is a sausage, too. This is made from caribou, not beef or pork. Just as spicy, but better for you. Not as fatty.”
X sampled a piece of the reddish-brown meat and smiled at the taste. “Wow! I could get used to eating this!” She took a full bite of the pizza and chewed thoroughly, watching him take his slice.
He took a big bite and let out an unintentional groan of satisfaction.
“Been a long time since you ate, huh?”
Rocky nodded and swallowed his bite. “Between you and Little Ben, it’s been a long twenty-four hours.”
They both ate their first pieces quickly, then paced themselves on the second ones. “I like cold pizza for breakfast, so I think I’ll hold myself to two pieces.”
Rocky handed her the bottle of water they were sharing and closed the box. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to help you at the dig tomorrow. I don’t think it can be too complicated, plus I don’t trust Dr. Jackson. He might try something if you’re alone with him. If you slapped him—and I don’t doubt that you would if you were provoked—you could break open your stitches.”
“I’d apprec
iate the help. I can’t believe the gall of that man. And someone in the grant department okayed the hotel reservations for only two days for me. I don’t know whether to be angry because they thought I’d quit that soon or pissed that they thought I was easy and their golden boy professor would be able to have his way with me in only two days.”
“You won’t have to worry about him with me around. I’m not a fighter, but I can get in the way of a forward pass. Just ask the basketball team.”
“If you’re not a fighter, does that mean you’re a lover?” X asked, eyes smiling, her grin stifled, but her dimples deep.
Rocky picked up the bottle of water and looked at her. He leaned in close, his mouth near her ear. “It means I’m not a fighter,” he whispered, then pulled back. He opened the box and put his third piece of pizza back in it. Her hair had tickled his nose and the sensation of her nearness was now more important than food.
X stood up and looked down at him and saw he was blushing again. She hooked her index finger, indicating she wanted to tell him a secret, too. He stood up and inched next to her, his face still red. His teasing flirt had backfired on him and he had embarrassed himself, not her.
She put her uninjured hand on his shoulder and pulled him lower, so that now her face was close to the side of his head. She rubbed her nose around the outside of his ear, then whispered, “I can teach you to be a lover if you’ll let me.”
He stood up straight, grinned, and asked, “Experienced teacher?”
She shook her head, then repeated her hooked finger entreaty for him to lean down again. “How about we learn together?”
Rocky turned his head toward her and asked softly, “And risk besmirching your integrity?”
She chuckled. “There you go again with those big town words. You were the one who told me the folks around here have their own lives to think about.”
Rocky glanced at the door, for the first time in his life wishing the front door had a lock. Hopefully, Joe was keeping Grandma busy. “How about if I only dusty up your reputation a bit. Not that anyone would find out…”
“Be careful,” she said, reaching up to stroke the side of his face. “I just might muddy up yours a little at the same time.” She turned away and sauntered into the bedroom, and stopped beside the bed, her back to the doorway. Hopefully, Rocky was behind her and hadn’t decided he needed to protect her virtue.
One Arctic Summer Page 7
