by Garth Stein
“I’m sure.”
“So,” he said, breathing deeply, “let’s get to work.”
He reached down and picked up the last item on the burlap. It was an intriguing rattle, fashioned from the skull of a small mammal that was suspended by a leather thong between two points of a deer antler. The whole contraption looked like a slingshot, with beaded leather straps hanging from the skull to form the actual rattling mechanism. Giving the rattle a shake, David turned toward the town and led the way up the dock.
The town was built on the side of a mountain that rose directly out of the water. As a result, the streets were stepped back and buildings seemed to rest on top of each other. At the base of the town was a vast, wooden boardwalk that stretched the length of the shore. Jutting out from the boardwalk were numerous docks; the seaplane and boat were secured to the longest.
Even in its heyday the town wasn’t very big, so it made the perfect conversion into a resort. The cannery, the largest building in the town, was gutted and turned into a community house, with a cafeteria and common area. The old General Store sold fishing gear and souvenirs. The houses were converted into guest cabins. And even though construction crews had been working nearly round the clock for several months, nobody had actually lived in the town since 1948.
Fergie caught up to David and gestured to the view of the waterfront.
“Beautiful town, though. Got a lot of charm.”
“Sure.”
Fergie couldn’t tell what David thought of the whole resort idea. He had the feeling that he disapproved. He sensed that David was only in this for the money. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. That’s all everyone else was in it for.
“What do you know about Raven, Ferguson?”
Fergie shook his head. “Nothing.”
“Raven is the patron saint of the Tlingit. He’s responsible for bringing the sun and the moon and water and almost everything else, to the earth. Do you want to know about this stuff?”
“Sure. I’d love to hear about it.”
“Raven was born out of anguish. But I have to go back a step to tell it properly . . .”
IN THE BEGINNING, there was a mighty chief who was very strong and proud and well respected by all the people of his clan. He had a beautiful wife whom he loved very much, but he was a jealous man and didn’t trust his wife to be faithful to him. He was constantly afraid that one of the strong young men of the village would seduce her and steal her from him. To protect against this, when the chief went away to hunt seal, he locked his wife in a box and hung the box from the rafters of his house so nobody could reach her.
One day, the chief caught his wife and one of his nephews exchanging glances. The chief became enraged and immediately took a knife with sawlike teeth and cut off his nephew’s head. Not satisfied that he was safe from betrayal, the chief killed the rest of his nephews as well.
When the chief’s sister found out that the chief had murdered all ten of her sons, she was stricken with grief. Her husband had died the previous year while hunting, and now she had no family to take care of her in her old age. The chief’s sister was so devastated that she went into the woods to kill herself.
As she walked through the woods, looking for a place to take her own life, she ran across a kind old man. The old man asked her why she was so distraught. She told him her story.
The old man nodded as the chief’s sister told him of her brother’s treachery and cruelty. It was not right, he agreed. The chief had shown no respect for life.
“Go to the beach at low tide and find a round pebble,” the old man told the woman. “Heat this pebble in a fire until it is very hot, and then swallow it. Don’t worry, it won’t hurt you.”
The sister did what the old man said, and after she had swallowed the pebble, she became pregnant. She built a shelter in the woods by the beach and lived there. In time, she gave birth to a son who grew into a beautiful child. This was Raven.
FERGUSON AND THE DOCTOR reached the community house and went inside. Fergie hoped David would be impressed. The community house was a huge room with a thirty-foot soaring loft ceiling. The interior had been completely refinished with Douglas fir, giving off a rich, warm color and a delicious scent. In the middle of the room was a huge, circular fire pit, above which was a large exhaust fan. This had been designed specifically for cooking: a spit bisected the pit for any big game, and the perimeter was lined with metal rods to hold grills for fish. Long wooden tables ran the length of the room to give people the true feeling of community living.
“Very nice,” David said, looking around.
Ferguson was pleased. With those two words, David had finally validated the entire resort.
“We pulled out all the stops on the community house,” Ferguson said. “We really wanted people to want to come to this room and be with other people.”
“As it should be,” David answered. “The communal house was the centerpiece of Tlingit village life. What we call society today is really a joke. Everyone in their own rooms with everything they need—telephones, television, pizza delivered and fed to them. There’s no need for socializing anymore. How can it be called society if nobody knows how to socialize?”
David walked over to the fire pit.
“Is this usable now?”
“Sure.”
“I’d like to build a fire, if that’s okay. We should make a food sacrifice to the dead.”
Ferguson pointed to a cord of wood piled up against one of the walls. That was his idea. Keep the firewood indoors. It would keep the wood dry, which was important. But also, it would give a cozy feeling to the room—guests would know there was always plenty of wood for the fire here.
“The Tlingit don’t believe in a heaven up in the sky,” David explained. “We believe that when you die, your soul takes a trip. It goes to the other side of the island or around the bend or across the water, to the Land of Dead Souls.
“And because the dead are nearby, they are subjected to the same conditions as the living. If the village is suffering from a bad hunting or fishing year, the dead do not eat well either. So it’s important to give some of your food to the dead at every meal. But the dead can’t come and eat off your plate. So, we throw food into the fire before we begin to eat. The fire burns the food and the dead can eat. Remember, Ferguson, the way to a dead person’s heart is through his stomach. Feed the dead and they won’t haunt you.”
Ferguson liked that idea. It would be a great little tradition at Thunder Bay. A food sacrifice before every meal. Like killing two birds with one stone: keep the dead people happy and entertain the guests at the same time. People really would be impressed by what Fergie knew about the Tlingit. He helped David carry wood over for the fire.
RAVEN’S MOTHER PLACED a stone under his tongue, which made him invulnerable. She also bathed Raven in the lagoon twice a day to make him grow quickly.
When Raven had grown enough to run through the woods and swim in the ocean, his mother made him a bow and many arrows, which he used to hunt birds, rabbits, foxes, and wolves. Raven always showed the proper respect for the animals he hunted, as his mother had taught him.
Raven’s mother made blankets from the skins of the animals Raven killed. Raven was a clever hunter, and fast, so his collection of blankets grew and grew. One afternoon, the boy shot and killed a large white bird. He put the bird skin on and immediately developed a burning desire to fly.
The mighty chief heard word in the village of his sister and her son, the expert hunter. He sent one of his slaves to invite this boy, his nephew, to visit him. Raven’s mother warned Raven not to go.
She told him of the terrible deeds her brother had committed. Despite his mother’s warnings, Raven declared he would visit his uncle, and he told his mother not to worry.
When Raven arrived at his uncle’s house, the uncle tried to kill him using the same sawlike knife he had used to kill Raven’s brothers. But when the chief tried to cut Raven’s throat, the teeth br
oke off the saw and Raven was unhurt.
Then the chief asked Raven to help him spread his canoe. When Raven climbed under the canoe, the chief knocked it over on him, trapping Raven underneath. The chief thought Raven could not get out and would drown as the tide came in, but Raven easily broke the canoe in half and returned to the house, dropping the two pieces at his uncle’s feet.
The uncle told Raven that he should help him catch a squid to eat. Raven secretly hid a small canoe under his blanket. When they went out to sea to look for the squid, the uncle knocked Raven into the water and paddled away, leaving Raven to drown. But Raven got in his little canoe and quickly returned to his uncle’s house before his uncle could.
Raven waited on the roof of his uncle’s house. Soon, his uncle arrived and went into his house, believing that Raven was finally dead. Raven locked the door from the outside and called upon the waters to rise and drown his evil uncle.
The waters rose and Raven flew high into the air on his white wings. He flew so high that his beak stuck in the sky, and he remained there for ten days. After the waters subsided, Raven let go and fell back to earth. All the people of the village, including Raven’s mother, who was in the woods, had been carried away by the water, never to be seen again. Raven was sad that the flood, while avenging his brothers, had brought him misfortune as well.
Chapter 5
JENNA PULLED THE ULTIMATE DRIVING MACHINE OUT OF THE garage in the Landises’ apartment building and onto First Avenue. Big, black BMW 850i super-car with ninety-two cylinders and automatic everything. One time Robert clicked his alarm button-thing and all the windows and the sunroof opened and wouldn’t close. Computer malfunction. He had to drive it downtown to have them hook it up to the Mother computer to see what was wrong. Mother said it was a faulty chip. Twelve hundred bucks. Well, when you’re spending seventy grand on a car, you have to figure a chip would cost twelve hundred. Jenna had a 1987 Volkswagen Jetta. Guess which one went in for service more often.
Jenna guided the car onto University, which would take her up the hill to Broadway. Another left and she’d be home. Robert and Jenna had a very beautiful old house on Capitol Hill with vintage leaded-glass windowpanes. That’s what Jenna liked about it. Leaded glass. The architecture of Seattle has got a lot of charm in certain areas, and Capitol Hill is one of those areas.
At a red light, Jenna turned on the radio. It was on an AM station. She could tell by the faint whistling in the background, the sound of radio waves through air. Two excited voices with Boston accents jabbered away about how to flush a carburetor. Carbon buildup? Blow it out. What are you turning right now? One-twenty? Your head won’t last another year. She left the car show on. There was something comforting about these guys who were so passionate about their engines.
As she drove through town, Jenna tried to imagine what Robert would say when he realized that his car was gone. Would he realize that Jenna was gone first, or the car? She had his wallet. He’d have to borrow money to take a cab home. Maybe he’d pretend nothing happened, that Jenna left to go to sleep and accidentally took his wallet with her. That would be good. Saves any kind of public disgrace. But maybe Robert’s too drunk to think that one up. He might fly into a rage. No. Even drunk he knew better than to make a scene at a party. Someone might see.
Jenna remembered that she had five boxes of mints on the seat next to her. She reached down to tear the cellophane wrapper off one, and when she looked up, she realized she had gotten caught in the freeway entrance instead of staying on University. Unless she backed up down the one-lane chute, there was no way out. A car was coming up behind her so she had to keep going. She’d have to take the exit for Montlake and come around the back way.
As Jenna accelerated into traffic, she was startled by a beeping that sounded like a laser gun being fired at an alien spacecraft in a video game. Radar detector. She looked in the rearview mirror. Nothing. She wasn’t even speeding. They make these cars like video games so the men can be entertained. Gleep-gleep-gleep. Incoming! Two o’clock high. Dive, dive! She moved into the right lane.
The two car guys kept talking. What a pleasure it is to be on the open road. Everyone should go for a drive. Get your car fixed up, take it out. Cars like driving. It’s like taking your dog to a field and throwing the ball for him. They love it. And you should take care of your car like your dog. Take it out for a weekend drive. Driving is one of the only remaining pleasures in life. Turn off your car phone, put on some music, and let your hair down. You’ll feel better, mentally. Any problems you may have will seem like small problems. It’s very therapeutic, driving. Better than yoga, because it doesn’t hurt as much. Good night, everybody. Good night, all. Jenna turned off the radio and passed her exit. She kept driving north.
JENNA HAD EATEN about half the box of mints without thinking and she really needed to brush her teeth. It had been an hour since she’d gotten on the freeway, and she hadn’t yet turned around and headed for home. The car was purring along at eighty. It was true: it liked going for a ride. And Jenna did feel much better, like the car guys said. She felt relaxed and not a bit tired, even though it was already a quarter to two. She hadn’t thought about Robert once, and she wondered if he had thought about her.
Gleep-gleep-gleep. The video game went off again. Jenna eased off the gas and let the car coast down to sixty. There were no cars on the road. Where did the radar come from?
Suddenly blue lights flashed behind her. Her heart jumped. The radar beeper was going nuts. Gleep-gleep-gleep. She slowed down and pulled over.
A cop holding a flashlight walked toward the car with his hand on his gun. Jenna turned and opened the door.
The cop jumped forward, jerked his gun out of his holster, and kicked the door shut in Jenna’s face. He pointed the gun through the window at Jenna’s head. Jenna’s eyes went wide. She put her hands in the air. He gestured to her with the gun. He wanted her to roll down the window. Jenna looked around for the button. It seemed to take forever to find it. The window whizzed down.
“The proper procedure when being pulled over, ma’am, is to roll down your window, turn on your cab light, and place both hands on the steering wheel.”
Jenna nodded quickly.
“Will you please turn on your cab light, ma’am?”
Jenna, frightened, looked up at him. She didn’t know where it was. She glanced around the cabin. The radar detector was still beeping madly.
“Will you please shut off that radar detector, ma’am?”
“It’s my husband’s car. I don’t know—”
“Above the rearview mirror, ma’am.”
Jenna looked up and saw the light. She turned it on.
“The detector is on the console next to the shift, ma’am.”
She reached over and turned off the beeper.
“Do you realize you were speeding, ma’am?”
“I guess so. It’s my husband’s car and I’m not used to it. My car makes a lot of noise when it goes over fifty-five. This one’s real quiet.”
The cop smiled. He put his gun away. That’s a relief.
“Sorry if I frightened you, ma’am. Officers have been shot on this highway in the past. You can’t be too careful when approaching a car at night.”
Jenna nodded.
“Where’re you headed, ma’am?”
“I’m going home.”
“Where’s that?”
“Seattle.”
“You’re going the wrong way. Seattle is south of here.”
Whoops. Busted.
“Been drinking, ma’am?”
“No. My husband and I . . . we kind of had a fight and I wanted to get away.”
“Did he hit you?”
“No, but—”
“Did you think he was going to hit you?”
“No, no, it’s not like that.” Jenna tried to explain. “It’s really complicated. I wanted to get away, that’s all.”
“Ma’am, you have some food on your mouth.”
&nb
sp; Jenna looked at him, confused. She glanced over in the mirror and saw some chocolate smudged around her mouth. She wiped it off with her hand. Did the cop see her blushing? That’s embarrassing. Jenna laughed. The cop smiled.
“Campfire Girl mints. Want one?”
“No thanks, ma’am, not while I’m on duty.”
They laughed again. He was kind of cute. Don’t women have fantasies about men in uniforms?
The phone rang. As if this already weren’t the speeding ticket from hell. The phone was ringing. Christ. Jenna looked over to the cop and shrugged sheepishly. It kept on ringing.
“Do you want to answer it?”
“It’s probably my husband wondering where his car is.”
“I don’t blame him. Why don’t you answer it and tell him you’re safe.”
Jenna nodded and picked up the phone from the console. It was Robert, all right.
“Jenna, where the hell are you?” he screamed into the phone.
“I’m in the car.”
“No shit, Sherlock, I called you. Where?”
“I’m safe. I wanted to clear my head. I’ll be home soon,” Jenna said, glancing up at the cop and smiling sheepishly.
“Why did you leave me at the party? What’s wrong with you?”
“I’m safe. Don’t worry. I’ll be home soon.”
She hung up on his next question and looked back over at the cop. Late night on the highway with a cop. This would make a good porno flick. Officer, I’ll do anything to get out of a ticket. Just anything.
“Ma’am, I’m going to let you go with a warning. You pay attention to the speedometer from now on, not the vibrations of the car, okay? And you get yourself home or check into a motel if you don’t feel safe, understand? This is a dark stretch of highway to be on at night.”
He stepped away from the window.
“Yes, officer. Thank you.”
He turned and started back to his car. Jenna watched him. She stuck her head out the window and called out.
