Glacier Gal

by Langdon, L.

  After several minutes of gawking at the view, Gerri went into the hotel that the bus driver had suggested. Five minutes later, she was back on the street, more worried than ever. If this was, as the driver had said, a reasonably priced hotel, then she’d hate to see an expensive one. She wanted to look for a cheaper one, but she didn’t know where to go. She was also starving and tired of lugging her bags around.

  She walked into a café that she had seen a few doors down. After standing in the doorway for a moment—nobody seemed to even notice her, let alone be bothered by her presence—she slid into a booth and looked at a menu. When a waitress appeared, Gerri closed the menu glumly and ordered a small hamburger. Even the food was expensive.

  She chewed her hamburger slowly—it might have to last her for a long time—while she tried to decide what to do. If she couldn’t find a cheaper hotel, maybe she could stay in a park overnight. No, on second thought, it was too cold. South Carolina in the month of May would usually have warm days and balmy nights. The temperature here in Juneau couldn’t be over 60°, even in the late afternoon. The night would be even colder. Also, there had been the hint of rain in the air. No, sleeping outside was not feasible. And that didn’t even address the safety issues.

  While she considered her dilemma, she casually scanned the other patrons. She was the only black person in the café. Surprise, surprise. Most of the customers were white, but there were a few that looked like American Indians.

  Gerri was distracted by the noise of an altercation in the back of the café. A slender young woman had been passing from customer to customer, briefly talking to each and handing each a sheet of paper. Her blond hair was in the long, straight style so popular with white women in recent years. A few took a pen and wrote something on the paper, but more of them shook their heads. The man that the woman was currently talking to said something in an angry tone. He then scornfully tossed her piece of paper on the floor. The woman flushed. It was obvious that she wanted to argue with him, but he turned away from her dismissively.

  The woman picked up the paper and smoothed it while she tried to regain her calm. As she did so, she looked around the room. Gerri dropped her eyes. She was willing to be a spectator to this little drama, but by no means did she want to be a participant. But it was too late. The woman appeared beside Gerri’s booth.

  “Excuse me? Would you be willing to read and sign this petition to end the Vietnam War?”

  Gerri’s curiosity was aroused, but her caution was stronger. “I’m sorry, but I’m not a resident. I’m just visiting.”

  “You don’t have to be a resident, as long as you’re old enough to vote.” The woman extended the paper toward Gerri.

  “I’d certainly like to see the end to that war,” Gerri murmured. She started reading the petition. Her heart sank. She didn’t want to be part of another altercation, but she couldn’t sign it as it was written. She stalled for as long as she could, and then looked up at the woman. “I’m sorry, but I can’t really sign this.”

  Anger flared in the woman’s eyes. “So you’re not really against the war?”

  “Yes, I am.” Gerri said emphatically. “I hate it as much as you do, maybe more.” She pointed at the paper. “It’s the part about our ‘murdering soldiers’ that I can’t support.”

  “Haven’t you heard of the My Lai massacre?” the woman asked accusingly.

  “I have.” Gerri paused. In some weird flashback, this was starting to remind her of her debates with Thurman before she gave up arguing with him. Would an appeal to a middle ground work any better with this woman? She plunged ahead. “My brother just got sent to Vietnam. He didn’t ask for it; he didn’t want it. But he signed an oath. He’s not a murderer, and I pray that he never has a commander like the one at My Lai.”

  The woman was momentarily silent; taken aback by Gerri’s statement. Gerri pressed her advantage. “If you think of this petition as a political act, wouldn’t it make sense to word it so as to get the largest coalition possible?”

  The woman slid into the booth opposite Gerri and scowled at her sheet of paper. Finally, she heaved a sigh. “I don’t mean that they’re all murderers.” She looked some more. “Maybe I should look at this again. I’ve just started passing it around, and I haven’t been having much luck getting signatures.”

  “I’d be happy to sign it if it didn’t criticize our soldiers.”

  The woman nodded and put the paper into her purse. Gerri breathed a quiet sigh of relief. Making an enemy on her first day here was the last thing she wanted.

  The woman leaned back in the booth and exhaled. “So. Where are you from?”

  “South Carolina.”

  “You’re a long way from home.” The woman spoke with a smile, and seemed to be genuinely interested, so Gerri ended up telling her all about her trip. At the end, she grew self-conscious about her bad planning, but she forged on.

  “So I may be here for only a day. I just didn’t realize how expensive everything is.”

  “It is,” the woman agreed. “Most of the goods have to be shipped in from the states.”

  “The states?”

  “The other states. The south 48. We haven’t been a state for that long. I’ll have to watch my words.” She grinned. “But we’re not destitute. The wages are higher as well—mostly.”

  “One of my ideas was to try to get a temporary job to make enough money to get back home.”

  The woman raised her eyebrows. “Hmm. What can you do?”

  Nothing ventured… “I don’t know. I’d thought of fishing.”

  “You know something about fishing?”

  “Some.” That wasn’t exactly a lie. Gerri had gone fishing with Rich in the Pee Dee river. And once, years ago, a cousin took Rich and her out on the ocean. She remembered that trip because he had let her try to start the outboard motor. He didn’t think that she’d be able to—it was a pull cord which required some strength—and she was delighted to have surprised him by succeeding.

  The woman seemed to consider that. Finally, she shook her head. “I doubt if anyone would hire a woman. That’s why we need Women’s Lib.”

  Gerri concealed a smile. The woman was predictably supportive of liberal causes. Gerri was actually sympathetic to that idea herself, although few students at Pee Dee State had talked much about it.

  She took a bite of her hamburger as she toyed with an idea. “I’ve had a couple of people mistake me for a guy. Maybe I could fake it.” She tried to imagine how that might go. She pictured a small boat with an outboard motor. They would go out in the morning, spend the day working with fishing poles—or maybe nets—and then come back in the evening.

  “You don’t look male to me.”

  “I think that my afro throws some people off.”

  The woman looked skeptical. “I’ve heard that fishing is hard work.”

  “I’m strong. I’ve worked on a farm all of my life.”

  The woman shrugged. “Maybe.”

  “Do you know anyone who…”

  Now, the woman shook her head vigorously. “I don’t know anything about those people. I only know one fisherman, and I hate his guts.”

  Gerri’s shoulders slumped. Well, it had been worth a try.

  “I know where you might ask, though. There’s a big marine supply store down by the boat harbor: Northern Marine. They might know something.”

  Gerri dug in her bag and pulled out the map of Juneau that she had picked up in the airport. The woman showed her where everything was. Gerri was surprised how small the town was. “That’s easy. I can walk there.”

  “Carrying those bags?”

  “Well, maybe not quite so easy. But I can do it.” She sighed. “But not today. I guess I can go back to that hotel. I’ve got just about enough money for one night.”

  The woman drummed her fingers for a moment. “Are you willing to sleep on a couch? You can stay at my place for a few days.”

  “Really? Are you sure? I’d appreciate that. That’
s very generous of you.”

  “I was once in your shoes. I took a tour of South America after I finished college. I was on a tight budget. One day I made a mistake in the currency exchange rate, and I ran out of money in the middle of nowhere. A family took me in. I don’t know what I would have done otherwise. Oh. By the way, what’s your name?”

  “Gerri Barton.”

  The woman grinned. “You could even use your real name if you decide to pose as a guy.” She extended her hand in greeting. “Anyway, I’m pleased to meet you. My name is Mindy Schumacher.”

  Chapter 6

  Gerri stepped quietly out of Mindy’s apartment. It was early morning and Mindy wasn’t yet awake. Gerri patted her pocket before she closed the door to make sure that she had the key Mindy had loaned her. She zipped up her coat against the wind. It was cold—maybe in the forties. Again, she was struck by the difference between Juneau and South Carolina.

  But Gerri didn’t care; this was just part of her adventure. She was in a good mood. She had made a new friend. They had talked for hours last night. In fact, Gerri hadn’t intended to get up so early, but the sun was already high in the sky so it had seemed later.

  She decided to walk downhill toward the waterfront. The sky had cleared overnight, and the air was so clear that it seemed to sparkle. She turned around and looked behind her. That looming mountain—Mt. Juneau, Mindy said—was entirely visible, and it was more impressive than ever. She shook her head in wonder. This town was prettier than a picture postcard. She would definitely be giving her new camera a workout.

  As she walked, she thought about her conversation with Mindy last night. Mindy was outspoken and opinionated, but she was actually willing to listen. She didn’t argue to score points or exert dominance as Thurman used to. At Mindy’s request, Gerri had helped her fix the wording of her petition. That led to Gerri’s telling her about all of the papers that she had written for Thurman.

  Mindy had been sympathetic—and frankly scornful. Gerri got the impression that she—in addition to being a staunch supporter of Women’s Lib—had had a bad experience with some guy. Perhaps one who didn’t like having anyone disagree with him. That reminded her of Thurman. He would have lasted about five minutes in a discussion with Mindy before he lost his temper and started shouting.

  Mindy had also regaled Gerri with stories of her South America travels. That must have been a real adventure. What Gerri had done so far was tame by comparison. It made her more determined than ever to milk all of the excitement that she could out of this trip.

  Soon, Gerri reached the end of the street. There was a wooden pier that led out to the water. She didn’t see any ‘no trespassing’ signs, so she walked out on it. There wasn’t any activity this early in the morning—just a large ship docked to her left and several small airplanes floating in the water to her right. She stared at the airplanes, fascinated. What would it be like to fly in one of those? Not anything like riding a bus, she guessed. She wondered if she could afford a trip in one of these planes. Probably not, she sighed and turned back up the hill toward Mindy’s apartment.

  Mindy was waiting when Gerri walked in the door.

  “Gosh, you get up early. Where have you been?”

  “I didn’t realize how early it was until I was outside. The sun was up…”

  Mindy grinned. “Welcome to the land of the midnight sun. It’s because we’re so far north.”

  Gerri’s eyes widened. “You have midnight sun here?” What a great addition to my adventure that would be.

  “Well, not quite. You have to go to Northern Alaska to see that. But we do have very long days in the summer.”

  Gerri remembered the man on the airplane. “How far do you have to go to see the midnight sun? A thousand miles or so?” She was kidding, but Mindy nodded casually.

  “Probably about that.”

  Gerri frowned in concentration as she tried to picture the earth hanging in space with the sun’s rays hitting it. That was another interesting fact for her journal. Mindy watched her dig for it in her bag.

  “What’s that?”

  Gerri explained about the ideas that she had written down for teaching some day. “When I start teaching, I want to do a good job. Some people will be watching for me to fail. They’re just starting to integrate the schools in South Carolina. I’d love to teach trigonometry, but they probably won’t let me. But just in case they consider it, I don’t want them to be able to say that I’m not good enough.”

  “’They,’ meaning the white people?”

  Gerri nodded, but she wasn’t in the mood for a discussion right now—even with her new friend—of racial politics in the South Carolina school systems. She quickly changed the subject.

  “It’s beautiful outside. I was thinking about your adventure and about my adventure.” She paused and gave Mindy a sly smile. “I’m really stoked.” As part of their conversation, they had compared their different slang words. This was one of Mindy’s—for Gerri it was the first time she had ever used it.

  Mindy, not to be outdone, retorted, “Well! I wondered why you had booked out of here.”

  Gerri grinned. ‘Book’ had been one of her contributions to their slang dictionary. She considered trying to come back with another of Mindy’s slang terms, but couldn’t think of anything appropriate. “OK, I give up. Truce.” She paused. “I’ve decided that I’m going to try it. I don’t want to sell this adventure short.”

  “Try what? Oh. Groovy.” Mindy returned safely to her own lexicon. “You’re going to look for a job on a fishing boat?”

  “Yeah. I figure that the worst that will happen is that they’ll laugh at me, but then I’ll just have another story to tell.”

  “What about the…”

  “Passing as a male? I’m tempted. Do you think that’s too farfetched?”

  Mindy eyed Gerri speculatively. “Well, the hair will help. People won’t expect a woman to wear an afro hair style around here. We’ll have to do something to hide your figure, though. That’s a problem that I wouldn’t have.” She looked down at her slender frame with a half-smile.

  Gerri took courage from Mindy’s enthusiasm. “I’m going to try. I’ll look in the mirror after I get ready. If I look ridiculous, then maybe I’ll forget it.”

  “This is so cool. I’ll help you get ready. Let’s stick it to the male chauvinist pigs.”

  ___

  Gerri took out her city map and checked it briefly. She was more than halfway to the boat harbor area that Mindy had pointed out. It felt good to be walking briskly. Her earlier walk had been a leisurely stroll to look at the scenery; now she had a goal. She wore a baggy sweat shirt and sweat pants loaned to her by Mindy—left by a former boyfriend, Gerri gathered. Without stopping, she adjusted the band of cloth which Mindy had given her to flatten and hide her breasts. She’d have to get used to wearing it a lot if this scheme worked. She smiled as she remembered Mindy muttering about her own figure. That reminded her briefly of Carlotta. I wonder what she looks like. Light skinned and slender, apparently. Swiftly, she put that thought out of her mind. That was not the way to enjoy this vacation.

  Just then, she saw a street sign that said ‘Glacier Avenue.’ She smiled and made a note to ask Mindy about how to see a glacier. Then the smile was wiped from her face as a car full of young, white males drove by slowly. Several of them stared curiously at her as they passed. She had been warned by her parents to avoid such cars—by running away if necessary—if the occupants seemed excessively interested. She had never known any of her friends to be accosted, but there had been some ugly incidents in the old days.

  The car slowly moved out of sight and Gerri breathed a sigh of relief. Surely, things were different here. Anyway, she was supposed to be passing as a male. If they could see through her disguise from a moving car, then she didn’t have much hope of fooling someone close up.

  As she rounded the next corner, she could see the landmarks that Mindy had given her. There was a bridge on her lef
t, and beside it was a harbor filled with small—and not so small—boats. Ahead of her was the sign for Northern Marine Company.

  She paused and pretended to look at the window display as she went over her checklist once more. Mindy had reminded her to keep her voice pitched low to pass as male; fortunately Gerri, who sang contralto in the choir, could do that easily. More difficult was Mindy’s last injunction, delivered as Gerri was about to leave. “Try not to smile,” she had said, “and especially, don’t grin. You have a very feminine smile.” Gerri would do her best, but the ‘no smile’ edict certainly ate into her self-confidence.

  Quit stalling. It’s time. As she started to reach for the door, she noticed that her ‘fro was matted. Instinctively, she raised her hand to smooth it, but stopped. No. Only a woman would primp. A guy wouldn’t care. She converted the gesture to one of scratching her cheek. She was getting tired of this charade already.

  As she entered the store, a bell tinkled in the back, announcing her. It reminded her of an unusually large hardware store. The large display area was filled with mysterious pieces of equipment, and there was a faintly spicy, not unpleasant smell in the air. Some sort of preservative, maybe? Gerri focused on a woman sitting at a desk working with an adding machine. She wasn’t paying any attention to Gerri, or to the several other customers elsewhere in the store.

  “Excuse me, Ma’am?”

  “One second,” the woman muttered. When she looked up, Gerri could see surprise in her eyes, but her response was courteous. “What can I do for you?”

  “Do you know of any fisherman who might have a job to offer?”

  Most people looking for a job went directly to the boat harbor and asked around rather than coming to Maxine at Northern Marine. Still the young fellow seemed well spoken—although his voice was odd. It had a layer of gruffness over an almost musical quality. She forced her attention to the question. “Nooo, I can’t say that I do.” There was Sven, of course, who had just fired Mike, but he wasn’t looking for a replacement. Still, I should give this kid a chance. You never know. “Well, I know of one guy who might have an opening. Sven Halvorsen, on the Glacier Gal.”