Glacier Gal

by Langdon, L.

  “I hate him. He’s a monster.”

  Gerri slowly sat down opposite her. Mindy was literally wringing her hands in her distress. “Why?” Gerri started to ask. “What on earth happened?”

  Mindy took a deep breath and sat down opposite Gerri. “It’s a long story, but he killed my sister. And that destroyed my family.”

  “I’m so sorry. Please tell me about it.” Gerri desperately wanted some information to reconcile this view of Sven with her impression: a soft-spoken, gentle man who had been unfailingly good to her.

  “Laura and Sven were high school sweethearts,” Mindy explained. “They were a beautiful couple. Sure, I’m prejudiced, but Laura was so glamorous. And all of the girls thought that Sven was so cute. They…” Gerri got the impression that Mindy was choosing her words carefully. “They got married in their senior year. They had big plans—Laura was going to be a movie star and Sven was going to be a boxer. They both could have been famous.

  “After they were married, Sven changed his mind. Laura felt that she’d been betrayed. He wouldn’t budge and they started fighting all of the time.” Mindy stared at her lap. “One night they went for a drive out the road. He wrecked the car and Laura was killed. She was four months pregnant.” Mindy smiled bitterly, “He had only minor injuries. That’s how he got that scar.”

  “That’s tragic. And your family…”

  “My mother was devastated. She had shared Laura’s dreams—and to just have them yanked away…” She paused again. “Afterward, he was horrible to my parents…” Her voice trailed away.

  Gerri was stunned. She felt bombarded by Mindy’s words and the force of her emotions. She wanted to express her sympathy, but she wasn’t ready to join Mindy in trashing Sven—she wanted to think about this. “I had no idea,” she ventured. “He’s been completely proper around me.”

  Mindy seemed to focus on Gerri for the first time since her outburst. She patted Gerri’s hand. “I’m sorry. None of this was your fault. You couldn’t have known.” She stood up. “Let’s go into the living room.”

  But the mood of the evening was pretty much spoiled. Mindy tried to project a cheerful air, but she couldn’t seem to help throwing a few more shots at Sven.

  According to Mindy, Sven had profited from Laura’s death. Laura and Sven each had life insurance policies, purchased after they got married. Sven had refused to help Laura’s family with some of their debts, resulting from help that they had given Laura.

  Then she delivered the allegation that shook Gerri the most. “He’s violent, you know. He used to get in fights down at the Arctic Saloon—still does now and then.”

  Gerri started to speak up and defend him, but she stopped. Maybe Sven’s almost casual destruction of her tormenters was normal for him. Maybe his protestations of non-violence were just talk. Gerri didn’t say anything. She just wanted to think about Mindy’s revelations and the Sven that she had come to know.

  ___

  The next morning, Mindy apologized for her outburst—without retracting anything that she had said about Sven. “I don’t want you to think that I blame you. You’d be crazy to refuse a job that pays the kind of money you’re getting. Just be careful. I know you’re not going to get attracted to him, but he can be very charming.”

  Gerri knew full well that she was already attracted to him, but she certainly wasn’t going to share that. “So far, he’s been a good person to work for. But I’ll be careful.” She felt ashamed for that restrained, limited defense of Sven. But she didn’t want to discuss it any more.

  Gerri got to Taku Books before Mrs. Kallek did, so she took the opportunity to browse some more. As she wandered around, she suddenly did a double take. There were two pictures of Sven’s—complete with his cryptic ‘signature’—hanging on the wall. Her eyes widened at the discretely displayed prices. His paintings must be popular, indeed.

  Rosie Craig had been watching her, Gerri realized. Not in a suspicious way, but in the ‘what can I sell you?’ way to be expected of a good shopkeeper. When she saw Gerri’s interest in the pictures, she spoke up. “That’s an Alaskan artist—very popular. He lives out in the bush and is very reclusive. To keep his privacy, he calls himself Hush, spelled ‘HSSH,’ rather than putting his name on them.”

  Gerri couldn’t help herself. She giggled. So that’s how they explain it! A look of surprised irritation crossed Ms. Craig’s face. “I’m sorry,” said Gerri, making a placating gesture. “I knew that his identity was a secret, but Sven didn’t tell me that there was a cover story.”

  Ms. Craig’s eyebrows rose and her look of irritation was replaced by one of astonishment. Sven had kept his secret for years, showing no interest whatsoever in sharing it with anybody else. Who was this woman that he seemed to have confided in? And who seemed to have intrigued Mrs. Kallek?

  “I work for him on the Glacier Gal. And he showed me some of his drawings. He’s very good. But this is the first time I’ve seen one of his paintings.”

  “He must have a great deal of trust in you.”

  “I hope so. I…” Gerri flushed in embarrassment. She hadn’t shown much trust in Sven when Mindy was attacking him. “He’s a very interesting man.” Am I shameless enough to try to get some information out of Ms. Craig?

  “He is, indeed.” Ms. Craig looked at Gerri speculatively. “Are you aware that he’s a widower?”

  “Yes, but I don’t know what happened. It must have been very tragic.”

  “The whole marriage was tragic. It never should have happened. They were just kids and they weren’t suited to each other at all.”

  It was plain that Ms. Craig was considering how much to tell Gerri, but while she paused, Mrs. Kallek arrived and, to Gerri’s frustration, the moment was lost.

  ___

  Sven was waiting on the Glacier Gal well before Gerri was supposed to meet him. He had taken care of a few minor chores, but now he was reduced to waiting restlessly—practically pacing—waiting for her. It had been two days—or nearly so—since they had arrived in town and she had hastily disappeared with her laundry. He could understand that. He had done laundry and a number of other chores around his house in the time since then. As long as they were stuck waiting for his fathometer, he tried to at least be useful. When something like this happened, he was generally philosophical about the delay.

  Not so this time. He started being edgy and restless practically from the moment she walked away. In some ways, it was worse than his discontent during the week he had fished alone after sending her away in Pelican. By now, he had become constantly, and dangerously, aware of her attractiveness. He hadn’t felt this attraction since Laura. But this was different than that. What he had felt for Laura, he could now admit, was simple lust. With Gerri, he had all of the same urges. But in addition, he took pleasure in her simple presence—a conversation; a shared chore. This was OK as long as he didn’t lose control and try to take advantage of her affection. Her youthful innocence both charmed him and served as a reminder to behave.

  But the skeletons in his past hung over even this relationship. Inevitably, Gerri would mention his name to Mindy, who would tell her just what a terrible person Sven was. He had had this happen before, but never with anyone who mattered to him as Gerri did. Always before, he could shrug it off—if someone wanted to dislike him, he would accept it and avoid that person.

  He found himself wanting to explain to her his side of the story—as weak as it was—and hope for her approval. Of course, her probable rejection would be all the more painful if he pled with her. And, in truth, he wouldn’t want to create a conflict between Gerri and Mindy. Gerri had made it clear that she considered Mindy to be a true friend. And Sven found that unsurprising. For all of her confrontational nature, Mindy would be a loyal friend. Surely Gerri deserved to have a lasting friendship come from her adventure. And it was merely Sven’s selfishness that made him hope to become Gerri’s second lasting friend.

  As Gerri walked to her meeting with Sven, she p
ondered the surprises of the previous evening. Mindy and she had gone out to talk to people and try to get signatures on their anti-war petition. Unexpectedly, Gerri had enjoyed herself. People were receptive and friendly and many signed the petition.

  They seemed fascinated by Gerri and Mindy as well. The contrast between them seemed to intrigue people: Mindy was the elegant blonde, still dressed for work. Gerri was black, wearing an afro (still an unusual hairdo) and dressed neatly but casually. ‘Salt and pepper,’ one man had said with a smile. Another man, after signing the petition, confessed that ‘I like your accent’ to Gerri. When she had eyed him warily—when people teased her about her accent, she frequently felt patronized—he had hastily added, ‘It’s not that strong; I guess you just have a nice voice.’

  The evening was a success also because it took her mind off Sven. Now as Gerri got close to the boat harbor, she wondered how to face him. Should she pretend as though she knew nothing? Should she ask him for his side of the story? Or would it be too painful for him to discuss? She was still dithering when she arrived at the Glacier Gal’s float.

  “Good morning. Sorry I’m late.”

  “That’s OK, I was…” Sven tried to hide his relief, but he couldn’t think of anything to say that sounded suitably casual. “…just puttering,” he finished weakly. He stepped onto the float. “Let’s get started.”

  As they walked toward his truck, Gerri studied him surreptitiously. She thought she saw signs of strain on his face. Maybe there had been a delay with the fathometer. “Is everything OK?” she asked.

  He looked at her. Suddenly, she couldn’t meet his eyes. She became very interested in the ground in front of her. “Is the fathometer going to be ready on time?”

  “Yes.” Her obvious discomfort could have only one cause. “Mindy found out who you were working for?”

  Gerri nodded.

  Sven heaved a sigh. “And told you all about me?”

  “Yes, she’s pretty upset about her sister.”

  They paused beside the truck. “Do you want to call this off? Do you want to quit working for me?”

  “No to both of those. But I’d like to hear your side, if you want to tell me.”

  “Let’s drive as we talk.” He was silent for a couple of minutes until they reached the highway. Finally, he spoke with a resigned air. “I won’t ask what she said—I’ve heard it all before. The thing is, she’s mostly right about the accident. I was driving. Laura and I were arguing—it seemed like we argued all of the time toward the end. We hit something on the road and the car flipped. Laura was killed.” He made a face. “I was lucky, they said. That was a very loose definition of luck.”

  “It must have been horrible.”

  He said nothing. Gerri could practically see him reliving the experience. She was prying, but she couldn’t help herself. “She said that you refused to help her family afterwards.”

  “Help? That’s a joke. Laura’s mother—who’s one of the most unpleasant people I’ve ever met—came to me and demanded that I split the insurance money with her. She already hated me, but I…uh…said some things back to her which made it worse. I had been drinking when she accosted me, and I guess that loosened my tongue. They were things that I’d wanted to say for a long time. I found her demand offensive—they hadn’t done anything to support us. I was still in school, but I took a job in the evenings after we got married.”

  Gerri felt guilty about focusing on a side issue, but she couldn’t help asking. “You were drinking? But I thought you hated that. Didn’t you ask me about that before you hired me?”

  “I did ask and I do hate it. I had a real drinking problem for a few months after the accident—spent a lot of time in the Arctic Saloon.” He paused for a rueful shake of his head. “I’m not proud of that time. I swore that I’d never go back to that place.” He flashed Gerri a quick, rueful grin. “The time I came in looking for you was my first time in there in years. Since I’ve been on the wagon, I don’t even like to be around drinkers.”

  “I’m glad you don’t drink.” Gerri had many more questions (What did Laura look like? Why did you get married so young?), but Sven was clearly not enjoying this, and it seemed like bad manners to pry any more.

  After a few inconsequential remarks about the approaching glacier, he returned once to the subject. “I just want to say one more thing. Mindy’s a good person. She has anger in her—about me, among other things—but she’s way nicer than Laura ever was. I sometimes wonder how she could have come out of that family. The family, I see now, was always oriented around Laura and her ambitions—or maybe I should say her mother’s ambitions for her—and Mindy was the dutiful child.”

  “She’s been a good friend to me.”

  “I would expect her to be.” Sven fell silent and Gerri stole a look at his expression. It was somber and closed—definitely not one to invite any more questions.

  Finally, he spoke again. “Let’s go see the glacier.”

  Chapter 18

  The drive to the glacier reminded Gerri of how close Juneau was to true wilderness. The last couple of miles to the Visitor’s Center were unpaved, reminding her of some of the back roads back home. The Visitor’s Center was a modest sized, attractive building, generously supplied with picture windows facing the glacier.

  The glacier itself was like a frozen river, caught in the act of tumbling down a valley with steep mountains on either side. The front of the glacier settled into a lake, perhaps a half mile from where Gerri stood. Its color was predominately white, with hints of blue and brown. The latter color, Sven told her, was from the soil that the glacier had scraped from the mountains as it flowed.

  “It’s beautiful, Sven,” she declared, when she finally returned the binoculars that he had loaned her.

  “There’s more,” he said enigmatically. “I’m counting on the fact that you like to walk,” he said as they returned to the car.

  As they drove—around the lake, as it turned out—Sven gave her a quick tutorial in glaciers. All of the ground that they were driving on—even miles from the glacier—had been pushed down the mountain, over the course of eons, by the glacier.

  “Now we walk,” he said as they parked. “You got the panoramic view at the Visitor’s Center. Now you’ll get the close-up.”

  Gerri was happy to have an excuse to walk, but she soon realized that this was different from walking in South Carolina. “Let’s rest for a minute,” she panted. “I’m not used to hills like this.”

  Sven quirked a brief smile and then resumed his serious expression as they restarted their climb.

  Soon, they came over a rise and saw the glacier stretched out below them. It was much closer now and looked much larger. Sven started down toward the glacier’s side.

  “Sven, wait.” She snapped several pictures, including some of Sven posing, smiling with the glacier as a backdrop. Then he took some of Gerri. Finally, they started down the steep slope to the glacier itself.

  “Wow!” Gerri truly began to appreciate the scale. The ice was jagged and irregular, but even at the edge, it was at least 50 feet thick. And it was thicker in the middle, Sven assured her.

  Sven knocked off a piece and handed it to her. “Here, chew on this. You can say that you’ve tasted thousand year old ice.”

  They walked uphill along the edge of the glacier. It felt like a canyon—the slope of the hill rose up on their left, and the glacier rose even more steeply on their right. After a few minutes, Sven stopped.

  “This is as far as we go.” He gestured ahead. “Walk in there.”

  Gerri stepped into a cave. The ground was rock, but the roof and sides were ice. As she walked in, the quality of the light changed. Less light came from the mouth of the cave, but the very ice glowed. She looked around in wonder. As the sunlight passed through the many feet of ice above her, it took on a rich, breathtaking blue color. She looked back at Sven, who was taking pictures of her with her camera. It was a moment before she found her tongue.


  “Oh, Sven. This is magical. It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

  He entered the cave with her, shielding the camera from the drips of water falling from the roof. He nodded and she saw a small smile of satisfaction. But he was still so solemn. Ever since the conversation about his wife’s death, Gerri realized, he had taken little joy in their outing.

  Gerri impulsively stepped forward and hugged him. “Thank you so much, Sven. You’ve been so wonderful to me.” As she stood in his arms and looked up at him, she caught him staring at her lips. It just seemed right to her to stretch up a bit…

  Sven was having trouble accepting her enthusiastic hug calmly. Whenever he touched her, he wanted more. He couldn’t help but watch her lips and think of how good they would taste. When she brushed his lips with hers, he stopped trying to be virtuous. He tightened the embrace and deepened their kiss. Gerri made a small noise of surprise, but she returned his kiss eagerly. Her tongue darted out and touched his lips, making Sven growl under his breath. His hands moved up and down her back, and he started thinking of where they might sit down to continue this.

  As he shifted position, they came under a trickle of water—freezing cold from seeping down through a crack in the ice. Gerri gasped and jerked back. She stared at him in astonishment, and then looked up and laughed. “I guess we should expect that from a glacier.” Then she looked at him, still smiling, but not speaking. Sven started to realize what he had been about to do. He was still finding words to apologize when Gerri grinned and put her fingers to his lips.

  “My adventure is just getting better. Do you realize that I might be the only girl in all of South Carolina who’s been kissed inside a glacier?”

  He had to laugh with her. Her laughter always gladdened his heart. In fact, he already had some ideas about more drawings of her. Besides, since she was obviously not offended by that kiss, he would put any misgivings aside.