Ketchikan or Bust (Tom's Adventures in Alaska)

by Matthew Green

  Chapter Three

  “Grandpa wants us to come over for supper tonight,” Swan says while Tom’s taking off his boots. “If you don’t want to go, we can go down to the DQ for burgers.”

  Tom moves his shopping bags out of the doorway and steps forward into her arms. Swan hugs him tightly and then steps away and looks at him sternly.

  “Did you get paid?” Swan asks.

  “Yeah, he paid me cash. It was an interesting morning,” Tom says. “It seems that Vic’s not very well liked.”

  “Well, I sure don’t like him! He’s treated me and everyone I know like shit for as long as I remember. I don’t know why Grandpa keeps going back to work for him! Sometimes I wish that shitty little house of his would just fall off this mountain,” Swan grumbles. “So do you want to go to Grandpa’s?”

  “So where does Grandpa live?” Tom asks.

  “Don’t worry, I’ll drive, we’ll take Dads truck. First, we’ll take the clothes that you bought yesterday back and then we’ll head over to his house. It’s so nice that I don’t have to worry about my Grandpa liking you; he talked a lot about you when he called. He said that you’re about the best greenhorn he’s ever worked with.” Swan says as she leans in to kiss Tom on the cheek. “Let’s go.”

  They spend a couple of hours returning Toms prior purchases and shopping before heading to Bible Don’s house. Tom’s surprised when Swan heads out past the college. He’d assumed by the mountainous terrain that the city didn’t go much further than the college. Swan drives through town as wild as Vic. After being slammed against the door a few times and almost falling into Swans lap many more as she careens around all of the sharp corners, Tom realizes that everyone on the island drives crazily. He finally decides to hang on and enjoy the ride. They head out of town a little way and Swan skids the truck onto a narrow grassy path through the woods. She navigates the corners through the trees as leaves and branches scrape down both sides of the truck. She barely stops off the end of the houses porch. Tom looks around at the small yard surrounded by dense forest. He waits for Swan to open her door before he opens his.

  “Come on, Honey, let’s go in, I’m hungry,” Swan says. “Let’s see if Grandpa remembered to cook something or if we need to invite him out for supper.”

  Tom meekly follows Swan up to the door. Even though he knows Bible Don from the fishing boat, he feels nervous about being there with his granddaughter. Swan swings open the door and bursts through. Tom hesitates at the threshold before stepping in and closing the door behind him.

  “Grandpa, we’re here!” Swan calls out. “I brought Tom with me!”

  “Grab a beer from the fridge and come sit down!” Bible Don calls out.

  Tom takes a glass from the dish rack and fills it with water. He tips it back and refills it before following Swan into the living room. She sits on the couch and pats it for Tom to sit beside her. He slides onto the cushion beside her and looks at his friend sitting in the chair across from them.

  “I took you to be a beer drinker Tom, so I put some in the fridge for you. I’ve been on the wagon long enough that I’m trying to stick with tea. I prefer coffee but I can’t seem to make it like you did on the boat so I switched to tea. Man that was good coffee you made out there, what do you do different?” Bible Don asks while switching his glance between the two.

  Tom senses that Bible Don is trying to break the nervous tension with small talk. “I put a bit of cinnamon and cloves in it. I’ve found that it tastes good and everyone doesn’t have coffee breath after a couple of cups. Not much, kind of a bit more than a pinch,” Tom explains.

  Swan jumps into the conversation right as Tom finishes. “Hey Grandpa, are you going to talk to Tom about that thing we discussed?” She smiles at Tom and gently pokes him in the ribs.

  “Ok, Honey, I was going to wait a bit but I guess we can get it out of the way,” Bible Don says to Swan. ‘’I’d kind of wanted to wait until we’d visited for a while.” He gets up out of the chair and walks out the door. “Come on Tom, I guess we have something to talk about.”

  Tom follows Bible Don, not sure of what to expect. Bible Don steps off of the end of the porch and walks through the tall grass in the yard toward an old weathered barn that looks about ready to fall over. He heaves on the door of the small barn and tries to get it to slide open. The rollers are rusted and seized to the tracks. Bible Don heaves again.

  “Give me a hand here; I haven’t had this thing open for years.” Bible Don grunts.

  Tom grabs hold of the door and the two of them heave on the door. It scrapes and squeals along its tracks until they have it about half way open. Bible Don points into the darkness.

  “Get in there and drag that thing out here!” Bible Don commands.

  Tom peers into the darkness and slowly ventures in. He looks through the blackness and can’t see anything but piles of junk.

  “What am I looking for?” Tom asks.

  “There should be an old motorcycle in there somewhere. Drag it out here,” Bible Don says.

  Tom strains his eyes to see into the depths of the barn. He slowly works his way in, stepping carefully around the junk piles. Every time he touches something he stirs up clouds of dust. He wipes cobwebs from his face and coughs a few times from the dirt hanging in the air.

  “It should be covered with a tarp or something,” Bible Don calls through the door. “It can’t be too far in, it was one of the last things I put in there! Keep looking, you’ll find it.”

  Tom begins to wonder if he’s on a snipe hunt but thinks it’s more likely that Bible Don sold the motorcycle to pay off drinking debts. He wanders in farther as his eyes adjust to the dim light. He looks around for anything that might pass for a motorcycle- a wheel, handle bar, anything. He lifts the edge of a canvas tarp and peers under. Dust spills off the tarp and hangs in the air. He reaches under and feels a tire. Tom moves several crates off the edges of the tarp and flips it back. It takes a few minutes for the dust to settle enough to reveal the motorcycle. Tom looks back at the door and scouts a path to push the bike back out of the barn. Bible Don stands in the door trying to see what Tom’s doing. Tom wishes he would step aside and let more light in.

  “Holy shit, that’s great!” Bible Don shouts as the bike comes into view. “I thought I’d sold that thing a few years ago! Swan swore it was still here. Push it out here so we can have a look at it.”

  Tom rolls the old bike from the barn and pushes it through the grass toward the house. He sets it on the kickstand a few feet from the porch and steps back for a minute. He brushes some of the dirt off and looks it over with Bible Don. It looks like it should be retired to the junk yard.

  “That, Son, is a nice bike! Jump up on that starter and see if it turns over,” Bible Don says.

  Tom brushes off the seat and gives the start lever a kick. The compression pops back the lever and throws him off balance. He falls to the grass next to Bible Don and looks up at the old man.

  “I wasn’t expecting it to kick that either, boy. I thought the engine would be seized! Don’t feel bad. The night before I parked it here, I was leaving the bar and it kicked back on me so hard I broke my leg. Knocked the wind out of me when I hit the ground and I thought I had a concussion. It pissed me off so bad that I parked it in here the next day while my cast was still wet. I forgot it was here. It’s not very reliable because it needs a new coil or something but at the time it was the only transportation I had. I love motorcycles and I’ve had a few but this one is my favorite,” Bible Don says.

  Tom looks up as Swan walks out onto the porch. She smiles at Tom and giggles as she points at the bike. Tom wipes sweat from his forehead and leaves streaks of dust across his face. Swan laughs.

  “I bought this bike at a rummage sale for four hundred bucks. The gas tank was rusted out so I used epoxy to fix it. I painted her red, white, and blue and painted those stars and that Indian on her. See that brown haired angel on the center of the tank? That’s my Swan,” Bible Don sa
ys with a smile. “I polished up the chrome and the pipes and rebuilt the carbs. She rides nice except that when she gets hot she loses spark until she cools down a bit. That was never a problem for me, at least not here on Kodiak because I just stopped at every bar along the way to give her a break. Where you’re going though, you need it to run for more than fifteen miles so you’re going to have to fix that coil problem. Pull that hose right there off and let’s get that bad gas out of the tank.”

  Bible Don reaches into a pile of trash on the porch and holds out an empty bucket for Tom. Tom takes the bucket, pulls off the hose and drains the fuel tank. Bible Don takes the bucket and pours it into the burning barrel in the middle of the yard. He strikes a match and throws it into the barrel. The match burns itself out without the gas catching flame.

  “Is that petcock open or closed?” Bible Don asks. “That gas is so skunky it won’t even burn a bit! If it’s in the carb, it’ll never start without a carb overhaul. I hope I shut off the gas!”

  “It’s closed, Grandpa,” Swan says.

  “Swan, go into the shed and see if there’s any gas in that can for the lawnmower,” Bible Don says.

  She jumps to her feet from where she was kneeling beside the bike and starts off toward the garden shed nestled in the trees. Tom and Bible Don watch Swan jump through the overgrown grass. Tom watches her butt wiggle and smiles to himself.

  “You treat her right son, she’s a good girl! And pretty to boot. If I hadn’t gotten to know you on the boat I’d have chased you off. We’re pretty protective of our Swan because every boy in town wants to get into her pants. From what I’ve seen of you so far, you’re the best thing that’s happened to her in a long time. You’ve put a spark in her eye and a giggle in her voice that tells me that she’s glad to have you in her life,” Bible Don says. “Swan said that you want to take a vacation and she wants to go with you. She asked if I’d sell you this old motorcycle so that you have some wheels to scoot around on. I’ll tell you what son, if you get her running, you can have her for a hundred bucks,” Bible Don offers.

  Tom looks at Bible Don and smiles. “Thanks Don!” He holds out his hand to seal the deal.

  “The only thing is, she has to wear a helmet! I don’t want her cracking her head open if you lay this thing down! I’ve slid on the pavement enough to know that don’t want to lose her that way, she means too much to me,” Bible Don says with a stern look.

  “Let’s see if it runs before we worry about that,” Tom says. “And if you don’t mind, you tell her that she has to wear a helmet, it’ll be better if she hears it from you.”

  Swan holds up a can of gas and treks back through the grass when she gets the nod from her grandpa. She hops through the tall grass carrying the can with her arms held out for balance.

  “I’ll pour it in, Grandpa. Can I kick it over and get it running? I think I can do it now that I’m grown up. Besides, I don’t want you to hurt your leg again.” Swan says.

  “Sure, knock yourself out! It’ll give Tom a chance to watch your boobies jiggle again, he’ll probably enjoy that!” Bible Don says with a chuckle.

  Swan pours the gas into the tank and opens the petcock. She hops on the bike and jumps hard on the start lever. The engine rumbles a few times and goes quiet. She kicks on the lever for another minute before the engine fires to life. She revs it a few times and shuts it off. Blue smoke fills the air.

  “What’d you shut it off for? You should have let it run for a minute or two to see if that smoke clears up.” Bible Don says. “It ain’t going to hurt it any more than sitting all of these years.”

  “Need to check the oil and change it if we can, Grandpa. Don’t you listen to your own advice?” Swan asks. “We know it runs. Let’s go to town and get some parts and have some supper.”

  “I thought I was going to cook for you two?” Bible Don says. “I was going to throw some steaks on the BBQ.”

  “I decided that we’ll take you out to the diner and have supper. Tom said that he’d like to treat us.” Swan winks at Tom. “It’ll give us some time to talk about our trip.”

  “Yeah, my treat,” Tom says. “Bible Don, didn’t you tell me that you can’t cook?” Tom says as he pokes Bible Don in the ribs.

  “Watch it boy, I might be ok with you dating my granddaughter but don’t think I’m going to let you manhandle me,” Bible Don scolds. “I’ll beat your ass if you try that again!”

  Tom looks away for a second, feeling ashamed for giving his friend a poke. He turns back and is surprised to see Bible Don smiling at him. Tom smiles back. Swan grabs him around the waist and pulls him to her. She gives him a peck on his cheek and tugs at his hand, pulling him toward the truck.

  “Let’s go eat! It’s been a busy day!” Swan says.

  Chapter Four

  “Get up, you lazy ass!” Vic says as he walks past the couch Tom’s sleeping on. “We need to get some work done today.”

  Tom rubs the sleep from his eyes and looks up at the ceiling. He watches the peeling paint sway in the breeze created by Vic. Tom sits up and tosses his blankets to the end of the couch. He looks around the small room for a minute before getting up and going to the bathroom. He looks in the mirror and decides that he looks good enough for a day with Vic. He takes a leak, washes his hands and face and goes into the kitchen to make breakfast.

  “I take it you hooked up with the DQ girl after I dropped you off yesterday. I looked for you for a few minutes before I said screw it and went to the bar.” Vic barks at Tom. “I figured that if you were going to abandon me that I’d take the day off too. I was surprised to see you sleeping on the couch when I came home. I guess she got tired of you hanging on her skirt and kicked you out. I can’t say as I blame her, all you do around here is eat grub and take up space. I hope you’re planning on folding up those blankets and leaving the place looking nice! I might bring a lady home so I always like the place to look sharp.”

  “Nah, I spent part of the day with Bible Don. I bought a motorcycle from him so that I can take a vacation. I just need to fix it so that it’ll run. He said it needs a coil,” Tom says as he lights the stove under the coffee pot. He steps into the living room, folds his blankets and piles them neatly at the edge of the couch.

  “What the fuck do you need a vacation for? Isn’t that what you’ve been doing since you got to Kodiak? Vacationing?” Vic says condescendingly. “So you bought that old piece of shit with the stars on the tank? I ain’t seen it for a quite a while, I figured Don sold it. The first thing I’d do is I’d paint that thing to get rid of them damn stars. It’d probably run better just from doing that. Does it run at all?”

  It doesn’t take Tom long to figure out that Vic has a hangover. Tom hopes that feeding him will lighten his mood a bit. He dumps a slab of bacon in the frying pan and stands bread up in the toaster.

  “I’d like to see if I can find some saddlebags that’ll fit it,” Tom says. “I could use the extra storage room.”

  “I think you should plan on parking your ass here and work hard so that we can be ready for the next fishing season. We’ve got crab coming up, and we can go out for scallops. We also need to go out and get some firewood. I’m going to go hunting. We’ll need some meat in the freezer to get through the winter,” Vic rambles gruffly.

  “I’m going to go over to the mainland for a week or two before the snow flies!” Tom says sternly. He looks Vic in the eye. “If I don’t get away from you for a couple of weeks, there’ll be no next season.”

  “Do whatever the fuck you want!” Vic spits, obviously pissed off. “Get some damn grub in front of me, I’m hungry!”

  Tom finishes the bacon and halves it onto two plates. He pops the toast down and breaks eggs into the bacon fat. He pours orange juice into glasses and slides one in front of Vic along with a cup of coffee. The eggs sizzle in the pan as Tom ladles grease over them to cook the tops. The toast pops up as Tom flips the eggs onto the plates. He butters the toast and hands a plate to Vic as he sits down. Th
ey eat in silence. Vic slides his plate into the center of the table when he finishes. He leans back in the chair and drinks the orange juice in one gulp. Tom wipes his plate with the last piece of toast and stacks the plates in the sink.

  “Well, let’s go!” Tom commands as he gets up and heads for the door.

  “Just sit your ass down a minute!” Vic says. “I ain’t in no hurry to go to work today.”

  Tom refills their coffee and sits at the table again. He leans back in his chair and looks Vic over as he raises his cup to take a sip.

  “I saw an old motorcycle frame at the dump yesterday. We’ll swing by there and see if the coil is still in it. It’s usually tucked up in the frame and guys leave it when they pull the motor,” Vic says calmly. “It might be good for you to take a week off and get out of my hair. Maybe I can find some little honey to take care of my needs while you’re gone.”