Valentine's Day in Wild Alaska 1983

"You'll laugh if I tell you."

"Now I gotta know — we could both use a good laugh about now, doncha think?"

"I was raised in Texas. I have a friend who came up here and ever since she got back and told me about it — well, I just wanted to see some real snow and some real mountains. So, here I am."

"Well buddy, you picked a hell of a time to come. But I guess you've seen some snow now."

"The snow is lovely, the cold is more than I expected. I hadn't realized there is a point where no amount of warm clothes is enough. I really do owe you a debt of gratitude."

He's trying — no need to keep harp'n. "Eh, up here we have to look out for each other. No offense, but this stunt you pulled here is a real doozy. But knowing you're a cheechako from way down south — well, you didn't know. So just remember for the rest of your life that someone up there was looking out for you today ... 'cause this road doesn't get much traffic this time of year. You'll know better next time you visit."

"I was toying with the idea of maybe relocating up here, actually. I've been listening to all of John Denver's Alaska songs — I guess I just got caught up in my dreams. Probably silly."

It's the first thing I have in common with this guy. "I'm a fan of him too. He does a good job of painting a nice picture with his words. Like most dreams, reality often doesn't shine as bright. But there's nothing silly about dreaming big. Do you're folks know you're here?"

"Of course — why?"

"Oh, just thought you look a bit young to be out here all alone. Of course, I haven't seen your face yet — I hope you're not planning on robbing me. You sorta look like a masked bandito, just kid'n. It's just been a weird night so far and it seems most anything could be possible." I can tell he's getting a little skittish so I go back to concentrating on our food. If he's a runaway, what's that to me?

*****

As I sit watching him make sandwiches, everything is so different — almost unreal. I feel like I'm in an old episode of Twilight Zone. My folks watched every rerun and now I'm feeling caught in the middle of one of them. A cold forsaken road to nowhere, the wind howling like a pack of wolves outside — a stranger more than twice my size with a knife too dirty to use. I need to trust him but at the same time I don't quite trust him ... yet. I should have stayed with the couple that gave me a ride as far as their mining claim. Just assumed I'd get another ride and kept walking — it's the storm that kicked my butt once it got going. I really don't know him ... but what choice do I have now? For the first time in my life I am totally vulnerable and defenseless. With his back to me, I roll my face mask up to just above my eyebrows, then pull it as low as I can on the sides and wear it like a hat — as low on my face as possible. I'd rather not roll it up, but there's no way around it without coming off really weird trying to eat peanut butter and jelly with a mask on.

As he builds our sandwiches, I watch him. He clearly could overpower me. But so far, he doesn't seem crazy like that. Fuck, I wish I could just disappear. While he's busy, I look around the room. One double bed, a small table and four chairs ... and nothing at all that I can use to defend myself. Even with the stove going, I can see my breath — there's no place to go. A fine mess I've gotten myself into. "What's the plan for tonight — there's just one bed?" He glances over his shoulder, shrugs and turns back to his sandwiches. "Do you have a name?"

"Ethan ... Ethan Carter. And you?"

"Car ... Carl Simmons. Nice to meet you Ethan." If I can keep him thinking I'm a guy and everything is normal. Best to not talk a lot.

"Well Carl, I wish I could say the same. Just being honest, you've kinda messed up my plans. I should be back at my place taking care of my dogs and the cat by now. They won't believe me when I tell them why they had to spend the night outside all alone."

Ethan stands up and hands me a sandwich wrapped in a paper napkin. His smile finally encourages me that he's probably safe, just a little grumpy. I'm satisfied with safe ... he probably deserves to be a little grumpy at this inconvenience I've brought.

"I've got a water bottle half full, you have any stowed in your pockets?"

"Wasn't my backpack with me when you found me?"

"Damn Carl, if it was I didn't see it. I came up on you walking in the middle of the road. I had to make some quick moves, so I can't say I saw any backpack. I was concentrating on getting you out'a the weather."

"It must have slipped when I jumped off the road and fell. Damnit — most everything I own is in that pack."

"Sorry, getting you out of the weather was my only thought. With this snow and wind, even if we go looking for it ... it'll be buried under the snow." When I look at him there's tears threatening to overflow his eyes. "Hey, don't worry. We can look for it when this storm passes through. It's not like someone's gonna come along and find it."

"Thanks Ethan, I'm really sorry for being such a pain."

"It's okay Carl — sometimes shit just happens. I'll use this fancy knife of yours to open us a can of peaches too. We can share 'em, then you can sip the juice — you need some sugar to get you warmed up good. Plus, we can melt some snow in the can later for more water."

Again, I watch him work to put his words into action. He's been so open and helpful ... his abruptness, well I guess I deserve his scorn. I just didn't know .... As I watch him, as I look around and see what he's done to help me — my doubts and fears have no foundation. He's gone out of his way — way out of his way to help me and to take care of me. He made me a sandwich. Yeah, it was scary out there — I was spooked even before he showed up. It's time to get over it.

We sit in silence and eat our meager meal. I share the peaches with him and sip the sweet juice. He thinks I'm a runaway — that means he's probably noticed I'm pretty small for a man. I wish I'd of just been honest in the first place. Now it's just awkward. I wonder where we go pee? "Is there a place to go to the bathroom?"

"I wouldn't call it a bathroom, but there's an outhouse out back that serves the four cottages. But you'll have to break through a lot of snow to get to it. Best to just stand outside the door a ways and paint the snow yellow. You ain't in Texas anymore Carl. Number two — well, same thing just a little farther from the front door."

"Yeah, I guess that makes sense." This is getting really hard to keep up. At some point he's going to figure it out.

"I'm gonna go out and start the truck and let it run for a while.That stove has finally starting to knock the chill out of the air, so just sit tight. I won't be far."

"Okay, I'll pick up in here." He's right about the room getting warmer. It's a mixed blessing though — on the one hand it's nice to be inside and warm — on the other, I'm getting a bit too warm in this heavy gear. If I take it off he'll know right away that I'm not Carl from Texas. Dammit, my misplaced doubts and fear of him have boxed me into this stupid Carl lie. This is going to be hard to keep up ... and even harder to get out of.

*****

As the truck sits idling and warms up again, I figure now is a good time for me to paint a little yellow on the snow myself. I step out a ways and look up into the night wondering at the strangeness of all this. After unzipping the outer gear and then my pants, it's a bit like threading a needle to get my dick out without injury by zipper teeth. Looking up again as I pee, I see a few small, unexpected, patches of clear sky. The stars are still twinkling and the storm seems to be easing off — at least for now. I probably oughta take him back and see if we can find his backpack tomorrow. I hate to take the time ... and the gas, but the kid's a long way from home and probably needs his stuff. With the truck more than adequately warmed up and my bladder drained, I shuffle through the snow back to our home for the night.

The old shack feels warm and snug after being outside. "Looks like the storm's eased up a bit. Wind's died down and there's even a few stars shining down on us now." Carl is down on his knees organizing the groceries and stuff I brought in earlier, getting it all packed in the box again. It's all quite a bit more tidy than before. "Thanks for packing up Carl. You know, I figure we can at least try to drive back tomorrow and then try to find the spot you lost your pack. Depends on how bad the drifts are in the road, but I've got a pretty good idea of where that all happened — maybe we'll get lucky and it'll be sticking up out of the snow."

"Thank you Ethan, I know it's out of your way. Should you go make sure your place and animals are okay first?"

"Nah, they'll be fine, I left plenty of food out for 'em and they have a shed to get out of the weather. I've got a neighbor not too far away and he keeps food and water out for 'em when I'm up north working. The dog's shed, well it more an insulated outdoor room — and they're northern dogs with thick coats. The cat, I figure she's the boss. I image she eats some of the dog's food, but there's a suspicious number of bird feathers too. Probably Spruce Chickens. Anyway, if the weather keeps breaking, it shouldn't take us too long to at least try to find your stuff. I wouldn't want you to go back home thinking we're not very friendly up here."

"I'd never think that about you. I'd probably be dead by now if it wasn't for you nearly running me down and killing me. But what's a Spruce Chicken?"

For the first time, Carl smiles a little at his joke about me nearly kill'n him — and maybe my tale about the chickens. The change that smile brings to his face sort of jolts me. I can't say anything to him, he'd think I'm nuts. But there for the briefest moment —

"Well Carl, Chicken is just sort of a slang for A Spruce Grouse. But, the damn birds have more names than a European prince. Take this little scrap they call a town. It's said that since there were so many of the birds around here, the town folks wanted to name it after the bird. Well, what seemed a good idea and simple enough turned into a downright debacle. There was some who wanted to name it Ptarmigan, but then they couldn't agree on how to spell it. Others, of course, were pulling for plain old Spruce Grouse. Then another bunch figured it was a Spruce Hen. The way the story's told, there were offended feelings for awhile — but no one was hurt or killed. Anyway, in the end they all came together and agreed on plain old Chicken. It was actually quite a gold camp in it's day. There's even an old dredge near here — amazing what them folks drug in, considering there wasn't much for roads. The Yukon River was the highway back then."

He listens and smiles some more as I tell him about the settlement's name. Then in the silence, he mostly sits and watches as I putter around getting things sorted and arranged for a quick departure tomorrow morning. Once I've done all I can, we both just sit and watch the flickering flame through the soot stained glass of the old heater. After a while, more out of boredom than absolute necessity, I stand up and stretch a bit.

"Well, I don't know about you, but I'm ready to get some sleep. But first, I think I'll take one more peek outside and see how the sky looks. Can't hurt to let the truck run a bit more too."

"I'll go out with you, maybe there's some northern lights."

"Clouds would have had to bust up pretty good for that — but maybe. I'll meet you out there — bundle up 'cause it's cold."

As I pull my face mask down and get my gloves back on, I feel safer, but sort of hate myself for building this ruse. It made sense at the time, he just assumed I was a guy and that felt safe — but now it feels like I'm lying to a friend. He's actually a really nice guy and now I just feel stupid for deceiving him. The smart thing would be to say nothing, try to just play it out and leave on good terms with him thinking I'm just a strange guy named Carl from Texas. But the harder part is the undeniable fact that I've become interested in him. I jumped to conclusions — I was shook up — I was already frightened before he came into my life. Yeah, but no need to paint that onto him. He's done nothing but be kind to me ... and take care of me. I close my eyes and try to imagine an eraser wiping the misspelled words of my fears off a blackboard.

Now, laughing over Spruce Chickens, he seems more of a gentleman than a murderer. It was all in my imagination — blame it on the weirdness of the night. And if he hadn't been here tonight I might ... I would have had something to really be afraid of then. I stare down my errant emotions — thankfully, he was here and I'm safe. Funny how the dark night and wild open places cast such a shadow on normal circumstances. What if I had met him in a class in school? None of these fears and speculations would come up with no evidence to support them. If I'm honest with myself ... he's attractive. He's kinda funny ... when he's not grumpy. He's a lot more thoughtful than most of the guys I know. Why shouldn't I give him the same acceptance I would give to one of the guys at college? He's maybe a little older, but so what ... I kinda like his maturity, so what's wrong with that?

And then there's the other thing.... It's hard to remember how long it's been — way before I left San Angelo to come up here — it's getting harder to ignore — harder to be satisfied with just my hands. Especially here so close. So yeh, that's part of it too. But so what? It's not like I'm a virgin — I know how the game is played. I force myself to push the fantasies and debates away. Still they nag and complain — and now my body has joined them in the revolt. I can't fully push it all away — I do my best to ignore it. After bundling up, I step outside. The wind is noticeably lighter. I look around to find him and spot him out near the truck, still letting it warm up. I follow the trail we've beaten in the snow to join him. "The wind really does make a difference, doesn't it?"

"Big time. It can be the difference between living and dying sometimes. You seem to be feeling better."

"Yeah, I'm starting to feel more back to normal — probably the peaches. I feel I should thank you again for helping me."

"Don't. I'm pretty sure anyone who had driven by you would have stopped and offered you a ride. It's just that in the blowing snow I came so close to hitting you. Sort of rattled me, but I've calmed down now." He seems different somehow ... can't put my finger on it, more upbeat? Maybe he just needed some food and a break from the cold.

"So, how is that you live way out here Ethan?"

"Well, this may surprise you, but I'm from Texas too. In fact, I'm pretty familiar with your home town. I started in the oil patch down there. I came up here a little over two years ago and been working on the North Slope ever since. I got my place out here under the Alaska open entry program — you know, where you go out to an area designated for homesteads. It's some deal between the state and fed's in BLM — two dollars and fifty cents an acre. Me and some like-minded folks threw in together, helped each other and got the makeshift road roughed in. I've been working on the place ever since."

"That sounds really cool. From what I've seen up here, I like it better than back home — even with the cold winters." My fake man voice sounds really stupid to me, but Ethan doesn't seem suspicious. I don't know if I can keep it up though. What if I just fess up and get it over with — my worries about him maybe expecting something sexual from me just because he helped seem stupid now. We're going to have to share a bed anyway ... I'd sleep on the floor, but just standing on it with my boots and socks on is almost as cold as standing here in this snow. Sharing the bed — that sounds awkward. I wish my stupid libido had chilled out as much as my feet have. But, it's been a long time. Just thinking about not thinking about it makes me think more about it — his words pull my attention back from my insanity.

"I know what you mean about it being easy to like up here. And it's really a coincidence that John Denver's songs triggered your trip. I was already hearing the talk about the oil money coming in up here, so with all those pretty pictures John put in my head combined with the talk in the oil patch about the big wages up north — well, here I am."

"I'm one year away from my degree in geoscience at Angelo State. You know the oil business back home and up here. So, do you think there would be much work for me up here?"

"Right now, seems like they're hiring anyone with a breath and a desire to go north. It's a once in a lifetime deal, if you ask me. I figure my whole homestead will be paid in full with less than one year of wages. But, I'm more into the hands on work — don't know much about the upfront work you're learning about. I see the geologists and engineers come up quite often though — just not sure what all they do. But I figure you could find work pretty easy."

"That gives me a lot to start thinking about Ethan. It's a big move, but what I've seen makes it really appealing."

As I listen to Carl share some of his dreams, his voice sounds different. Maybe it's just that he's calmed down, or maybe being out here in the clean air. But it's definitely different — not so gruff. I look up again to see if the clouds are still breaking ... "There you go Carl, there's some pretty good lights up there now."

I turn and look where he's looking ... "That's amazing. I've seen some while I've been up here — but out here in the total darkness they are more vibrant. Wow, it was almost worth getting run down by a wild man to see this." Ethan's chuckle at my lame joke makes me smile. If my name wasn't Carl, I'd go snuggle up with him ... the lights in the sky would be even more beautiful — more memorable. Dammit, I have to end this stupid ruse. "Ethan, I have a confession to make."

I look down at him, "What confession?"

"I'm sorry — my name isn't Carl. It's Carley Simmons. I'm not a man Ethan. I didn't mean to lie ... you just assumed and it felt safer to let you think that way."

"Well, that explains a lot. I thought your voice sounded odd. You almost pulled it off ... I'm not sure why you did it though."

"You wouldn't, you're a man. A pretty big man. I'm sure it sounds stupid, but out here all alone ... I was already frightened — I mean really freaked out. The dark, the wind ... I knew I'd screwed up big time with no way out. I think it was all of that, but at first I didn't know a thing about you. I feel so stupid now, but I was afraid of you Ethan. Not now, but at first when — you'd have to be a woman to understand. I'm really sorry, but now I trust you and I just wanted it to end."

"I understand Carley. Your instincts were probably right. All alone in the middle of nowhere, a dark stormy night — that sounds like the beginning of a horror novel. Be honest with you, I won't even read a horror story out like this, just too damn spooky out here all alone. This whole country lets you know real quick just how small and weak you are. Anyway, no hard feelings and now I can stop wondering what's wrong with your voice. I was suspicious, but I thought you were a runaway lad pretending to be older. Enough said. The battery's been topped off for a good while and the truck's warm, I'll shut her down and we can listen to the north country silence and enjoy these lights while they last."

"Thank you Ethan — for everything." With that ton of bricks off my shoulders, I make my decision and close the two steps separating us and wrap my arms around his waist for a hug. I may have just made my next mistake, but it feels so good to relax into him. It's been so long...he's been so kind. We stand in silence, total absolute silence like I've never experienced ... even the wind has taken a rest. With my face buried into his chest, his masculine scent completes my brain's image of him a little more. Finally he puts his arms around me in return, I allow myself to fully let go of the charade that got us here. I close my eyes and for the first time realize just how tired I am.