by Langdon, L.
Wally looked uncomfortable. “Well, no. I got another call from…well, you don’t know the guy, but Sven asked him to deliver a message. It seems that one of these hunters was really desperate to get back—something about a vital business meeting in San Francisco tomorrow. So Sven started out this morning for home.”
As he spoke, Gerri became aware of radio static in the background. Wally had probably been monitoring the short wave marine band all day. “What time did he start?”
Wally was hoping to avoid this part. “About six in the morning.”
Gerri’s heart sank. “So he’s overdue.”
“Yes, he should have been here three or four hours ago.”
She thought about that, trying to find a reassuring explanation. “But he would have called, wouldn’t he, if he had gotten in trouble?”
Wally shook his head, and Gerri realized that he, too, was very worried—and angry. “No, he can’t. It seems that they had a very successful trip. They lashed the carcasses of the animals to the boat for the trip back. One of those idiot hunters tried to hang a big buck from the mount for Sven’s radio antenna. It ripped the antenna off in the heavy weather. So Sven has no radio capability.”
Gerri’s heart sank even lower. “So that’s why he had this other guy relay the message for him.”
Wally nodded and stared at her, watching her reaction.
Gerri started to get angry. “So why the hell did he leave Gambier Bay? Just tell his customer that he’ll just have to wait.”
Wally couldn’t have agreed with her more. In fact, he would have expressed himself in even stronger terms. Though, now that he thought about it, this was the strongest language that he’d ever heard Gerri use. His situation was made more delicate by the fact that he had a pretty good idea why Sven took this chance. The customer had offered Sven a very sizeable bonus to get him back on time and, Wally was pretty sure, Sven wanted to build a nest egg to woo Gerri. But he couldn’t tell her that.
He tried to concentrate on how he could reassure her without actually lying. “He might be perfectly OK. Sure, there are things that could have happened, but he could just be delayed.”
That would be a big delay, Gerri thought, but addressed the other part of his remark. “Engine trouble, I suppose. But that’s not very likely. Sven takes good care of his boat.”
“I agree. If it did happen, the wind could drive him onto the rocks, but it’s not very likely that it happened.”
Gerri searched for other possibilities, slightly cheered that Wally didn’t consider engine failure to be likely. “He could have hit something like a log. But that doesn’t seem very probable either.”
“True, and true.”
She racked her brain. Could he have made a navigation error and run aground? But she couldn’t believe that for a moment. Sven was an excellent seaman. She’d never seen him make an error like that.
Wally watched her, hoping that she would give up in her speculations. Then, he could remain silent with a clear conscience. When she showed no signs of doing so, he confessed his true fear. “What I worry about the most is ice.”
She looked puzzled. “You mean hitting an iceberg?”
“No. That’d be like hitting a log—possible, but not likely.” He paused. This was something totally outside her experience. He wished that he didn’t have to explain it, but, he reminded himself, she deserved not to be patronized. “You wouldn’t have seen this last summer. Remember how in a storm the waves come over the bow and spray everything?”
“Sure—too well.” Gerri shuddered, thinking of the day she went overboard.
“Today’s worse than anything you saw last summer. But, more importantly, the temperature is around zero. Most of the spray runs back off the boat, but some of it will freeze and stick.” She seemed about to object, so he raised his finger to forestall it. “It may not seem like much—a few ounces with each wave—but it adds up. You’re the math person,” he couldn’t resist adding, “add it up: a few ounces to a pound every five to ten seconds can build up fast.”
Gerri’s head spun. This was completely outside her experience. And he was right—this would be an interesting and exotic exercise for her notebook. If only she could use it someday when Sven was safely back home.
Wally continued. “Now, the first problem this causes is reduced visibility. As the pilot house windows build up a layer of ice, you can’t see through them. You have to stick your head out the side doors to see.
“The second problem—the really devastating one—is the added weight. The ice won’t usually build up in a balanced way. Eventually, the boat will list—tilt to one side. That will make it harder to control. It could even capsize.”
He watched her for a minute as she digested his words. She looked utterly miserable. He wondered if he had been too frank. He couldn’t un-say any of this, but it was probably time for him to shut up. He slapped his hands on his knees and leaned forward. “There’s nothing we can do now but wait. If anyone can bring a boat through this, it’s Sven.”
Gerri caught his signal and suppressed a sigh. “Yes, I suppose so.” She looked down at him as she rose to go. “Wally, please call me if you get any news—any news at all. And thank you.”
She wrote down both Mindy’s number and the number for the school and gave them to him. She paused one last time before she left. “I don’t care what time it is. Call me at any time. Night or day.”
Chapter 37
It was a long night for Gerri. Mindy was eating out with John, so the apartment was empty. Gerri moped through a dinner of leftovers, and then resolved to find something—anything—to do to keep her mind off Sven being out there in the storm.
That plan didn’t work well. She started with her schoolwork, resolving to prepare for Monday’s classes. After an hour, she conceded to herself that she wasn’t getting anything done.
She then thought about the potential exercise for her math journal—the ice buildup—that Wally had alluded to. That was no good; it made her obsess even more about what might be happening to Sven. She was very careful about using the present tense—when it became past tense, that would mean either that he was home safely or that he had been wrecked. And Wally hadn’t called, so it wasn’t the former.
She had better luck in grading homework. It didn’t require quite as much concentration as planning lessons, and some of the students engaged her attention by finding rather intriguing ways of getting things wrong. Eventually, though, she finished all of the homework.
As she was casting about mentally for something else to occupy her mind, she received a welcome distraction. Mindy breezed in, obviously in an ebullient mood. “We talked,” she said, her eyes dancing.
Gerri smiled for the first time since she had left the boat harbor. “Tell me all about it.” Mindy had told her about her dinner ‘date’ several days ago. At that time, Gerri had given her a teasing smile and said “Oooooh.”
Mindy had quickly tried to lower her expectations. “It doesn’t necessarily mean anything,” she explained. “We share business dinners occasionally to talk about his work in the outlying villages and my department’s support.”
Still, Gerri had privately suspected whether there might be more to it, and now, it appeared as though she had been right.
Mindy talked over her shoulder, as she hung up her coat. “We’re going to try to see more of each other, but not as stereotypical dates. No going to the movies for a while.”
“So what will you do?”
“Well, dinners will work—people are used to seeing us eating together.” She sat down opposite Gerri. “First, though, I’m going to teach him how to ice skate. That should look innocent enough.”
“That sounds interesting. When will this happen?”
“We’re going to start tomorrow. We’re going to a lake out the road.”
Gerri tuned out. A brief daydream flashed through her mind—Sven, back and healthy, teaching Gerri how to skate. That was quickly replaced by real life�
�Sven’s unknown peril—and Gerri felt miserable again. She realized that Mindy was still talking. “I’m sorry,” Gerri interrupted, “I’m not good company tonight.”
“I’m sorry if you don’t feel well. May I get you anything?”
“Physically, I’m just fine. I’m worried sick.” Gerri hesitated. Would I spoil the evening for Mindy if I mention Sven? She settled for the practical. “Do you mind if I keep the phone in my room? I’m expecting an important call, and it may come late.” Or it may not come at all…
“Sure,” Mindy said, but she looked puzzled. She knew that Gerri didn’t get many calls—early or late. She sat next to Gerri and put her hand on Gerri’s. “What’s going on?”
Gerri explained Sven’s hunting trip and her worries. Mindy involuntarily looked at the window. “He’s out on his boat in this?”
Gerri nodded sadly. “I wish he wasn’t,” and found herself giving more details.
Mindy glanced at the window again and shuddered. “I hope he’s OK.”
“If I get a call, I’ll go down to the boat harbor and see for myself.”
“Not a night to be out…” Then she had a brainstorm. “Take my car if you go. This isn’t a good time for one of your famous walks.”
“Are you sure you won’t need it?”
“I’m sure. You know where the keys are.” She pointed to the bookshelf. “Just don’t forget to unplug the head bolt heater before you go.”
“The what?”
Mindy briefly smiled at Gerri’s look of mystification. “It’s in the engine. It makes the car easier to start on really cold days. You just plug it into an electrical outlet when you park the car. You’ll see the cord hanging out of the grill.”
“Wonders never cease. I still have a lot to learn about this place.”
Mindy disappeared into her bedroom, leaving Gerri alone with her depressing thoughts. Gerri was wondering whether she could possibly fall asleep herself when, a few minutes later, Mindy reappeared. She looked much more solemn and reflective than she had before.
“I really do hope he’s OK.” She paused. “I inherited my old clunker from Laura. Not directly, because she died before I started to drive. Sven bought and installed that head bolt heater for her as a birthday present. She complained about it—she wanted jewels or something like that—but I thought it was sweet. They didn’t have much money then, but he wanted her to be safe.”
She sighed. “He was kind of old-fashioned, I guess. They just wanted such different things out of life. I’ve tried to tell myself otherwise, but he really did try.” With that, she disappeared into her bedroom again.
Gerri stared at her door for a long time—happy that Mindy was overcoming her bitterness about Sven, but miserable that Sven might not live to find out about it.
The shrill ringing of the phone disoriented Gerri. She blinked and looked around. She was still on the couch in the living room. Apparently, she had dozed off after all. A quick glance at the clock showed that it was after ten—she had slept for almost an hour.
When she picked up the phone, Wally spoke without preamble. “Someone radioed me just now. He thinks that he might have seen the Glacier Gal on its way in. He couldn’t be sure in the dark.”
“How far out?” Gerri, too, had no time to waste on amenities.
“Maybe ten minutes. I’ll give you another call after I know whether it’s him.”
“Don’t bother. I’m leaving now. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
“Are you sure? It might not be him, you know.”
“Wally, I’m going crazy sitting here waiting and worrying. For my sanity, I need to do something.”
As Wally hung up the phone, he smiled. He wondered if Sven knew how lucky he was to have someone like Gerri. Then the smile faded. If this was a false alarm, then they would be running out of benign explanations for his delay.
She was there in six minutes—thankful that the streets were mostly dry and that the police weren’t watching for speeders. She parked Mindy’s car, slipped the key into her pocket, and stepped out into the bitter wind. She hurried down the ramp, dividing her attention between the dimly lit walkway and the harbor entrance. She hoped with all of her heart to see the Glacier Gal steaming in. There was one boat entering the harbor, but the running lights didn’t look like those of Sven’s boat. She was reduced to hoping for a miracle.
She tried to keep the moving boat in sight, but after she reached the bottom of the ramp, the other boats in the harbor blocked her view. All she could see was the mast light. She took some comfort from the fact that the unknown boat seemed to be heading to somewhere near Sven’s slip.
As she got close, the scene popped into focus. It was the Glacier Gal! Gerri’s knees felt weak with relief, and she had to pause and lean against a piling to steady herself. Thank heavens! She could also see why she didn’t recognize it earlier. This was a beaten and distorted version of the Glacier Gal. Wally had been right about the ice. The Gal had thick, irregular layers of ice covering the front deck and the pilot house. The windows were almost invisible underneath the ice. And the boat listed to one side, presumably from the uneven weight of the ice.
The side doors of the pilot house were propped open, and she could see Sven stick his head out frequently—because of the ice blocking the front windows—to check his progress. She couldn’t imagine how miserable it must have been to have piloted the boat that way. The cabin must be freezing cold. She shuddered involuntarily.
As she reached the slip, she saw Wally waiting to step aboard and get a line to tie up the boat. She also saw a stranger—looking utterly scared and helpless—watching from the door. One of the hunters, no doubt. And if she had to judge from him, Sven had had no help whatsoever on the return trip.
Wally saw her and threw her the stern line. No words were necessary. Gerri fastened it to the cleat on the dock—wrestling it with difficulty, since the line was frozen and stiff.
The stranger that she had seen, together with a companion, hastily climbed off the boat carrying duffel bags. They were totally oblivious to Gerri and Wally. As they passed, she heard a snatch of conversation.
“You and your damned meeting. I’ve never been more scared in my life.”
“You had it easy. I was sick as a dog practically the whole trip back. And don’t forget: That meeting is going to pay for this trip many times over.”
Gerri looked back at the boat. There were several carcasses—large ones—still hanging from various supports. As the hunters left, they hadn’t given them a second glance. Gerri gave Wally a puzzled look.
“Trophy hunters.” He spat into the water in what she presumed to be a critical comment. “Sven will arrange for someone to come tomorrow and take care of them. The meat will be given away, and I imagine the heads will be mounted.”
“So they’ll just stay here overnight?”
Wally smiled for the first time since she’d arrived. “Nobody will take them. And you couldn’t ask for a better freezer.”
For some reason, that struck her funny. She chuckled, which set Wally off as well. Then she realized that Sven hadn’t come out yet. Could he be hurt? Clearly, the hunters wouldn’t have cared. She stopped laughing and looked toward the pilot house.
___
Sven shut down the engine and gathered his things. He had never felt so sore, cold, and exhausted. He had even passed the stage of shivering. He should never have accepted that bozo’s bonus money—sizeable as the amount was. When the man pled with him to get them back, Sven had tried to tell them of the difficulties and dangers. The man had glibly assured Sven that they would help him with whatever needed to be done on the trip. He carried himself like a big shot—and his friend treated him like one—but Sven was convinced that he must have been a salesman in his regular life. Say anything to close the deal… They had both turned out to be worthless on the trip back. The salesman spent most of the trip being sick, and his friend sat rigidly, as if in shock, in the galley.
That was O
K. He was done with them now, and he would make it home somehow. There was a bigger disaster looming outside the cabin. Gerri was here. His first reaction was unbridled joy. Joy at seeing her and joy that she would come out on a night like this to meet him.
But he quickly had doubts. She had obviously tried to put distance between them. And he was pretty sure that that was because of her interest in Dr. Wheeler. And how was Sven supposed to compete with that? What did he have going for himself, really? Sincerity and true devotion—yes. His physique--maybe, if she went for that. His looks—doubtful.
Gerri had seen him utterly helpless during his appendicitis attack. And now, when he stepped outside she would see him near collapse. He looked outside again. The hunters were gone, and Gerri and Wally were sharing a joke.
Maybe that was the key. If he could mask his weakness and be casual, she might at least remember his better side. If they were laughing, then so would he. Then later, somehow, he would try to figure out how to win her back. Somehow. He stepped out of the pilot house.
Gerri watched Sven approach; her eyes narrowed. He looked to be on his last legs. She was willing to bet that he had had to carry the whole load on this trip—those hunters surely hadn’t been of any help. She watched him stumble as he tried to step over the gunwale. She remembered well her own hypothermia after her fall overboard. Was he even capable of getting home? Or should he go to the emergency room to be looked at?
Just as she was about to speak, he looked at them and said, with forced joviality, “Well, a welcoming committee. Just the thing after a nice trip.”
Gerri was known for her equable nature. Indeed, it was part of her self-image. But this was too much. She had never been more scared in her life. Not even Sven’s appendicitis attack had scared her this much. And it wasn’t just ‘foolish female fears.’ Wally had been scared as well. And, from the looks of him, Sven wasn’t home free just yet. And he thought all of this was funny?
She simply lost it. “You have a nerve. You think this is a big joke? But there are people who…” Who love you… “Who care for you and have been sick with worry about you.”
