Once Anna and Iya reached the top of the cliff trail, they stopped to catch their breath. The land opened before them, reaching out to the base of a volcanic peak, which stood like a sentinel wearing a helmet of white. Fields of tough Aleutian grasses and berry bushes merged with masses of delicate pink and lavender flowers that danced across the bluffs.
Anna gazed at the stunning tapestry of color and texture that crowned her island. The contrast between this place and her beach home never failed to inspire her. She soaked in the artistry, memorizing every detail so she could take it back to the beach with her.
Iya fidgeted and tugged on Anna’s hand.
Anna ignored her and took a long, deep breath, inhaling the fresh scent of grass that mingled with the sweet fragrance of blueberries and wildflowers. “This is where I want to live.”
“Me, too,” Iya said. “Why do we not?”
Anna looked at her younger sister’s sweet face and gently brushed a strand of black hair out of her eyes. “It is beautiful now, but when the storms come there is no protection from the pounding rains and wind. And we would always be climbing down the cliffs to hunt and gather food. And our wood comes from the beach.” She shook her head. “To visit will have to be enough.” Her gaze roamed over the meadows and warmed her insides.
“I like our visits.”
A sudden urge to romp swept over Anna and she dashed across the open ground. “Catch me if you can,” she called over her shoulder.
Iya charged after her sister, feet dashing over the brush and digging into patches of sand.
Anna darted back and forth through the bushes, avoiding her sister’s grasp.
Though Anna was older, Iya was a fleet-footed five-year-old, and she soon threw her arms about Anna’s waist, capturing her. The two of them tumbled to the ground, giggling their delight.
Breathlessly, Anna conceded. “You have won.” She rolled to her back, looked up at the brilliant blue sky, and ruffled her sister’s hair. “You are too fast for me.”
Iya grinned impishly. “You are getting too old and—” A look of fear overtook her smile. Peering at something beyond Anna, she raised up on her arms as if ready to flee.
Pushing to her feet, Anna turned to look and drew in a sharp breath.
On the ridge behind them stood a man, an outsider. Where had he come from? She hadn’t seen anyone from the outside for a long while and had heard nothing from the people in the village about such a visitor.
The man was tall with a full beard and wavy blond hair that blew wildly in the wind. He held his slender frame stiff and straight, legs slightly parted. A rifle was slung casually over one shoulder. Silently he watched them, but he made no threats.
Anna placed herself between Iya and the stranger and slowly backed away. “Say nothing and stay close to me,” she whispered.
Outsiders had traveled to the village many times before and rarely brought anything of value with them. On the contrary, they were often cruel and treated Anna’s people with less respect than they would an animal.
First the Russians came, ruthless in their desire for furs and riches. They enslaved her people, using them to hunt the sea otter and great whales. Those who resisted were killed. Men were forced to leave their households and serve the fur-greedy Russians. Without hunters, entire villages perished.
The intruders also brought diseases and many Aleuts died. Anna had heard stories of a time when there were many thousands of her people, but now only small bands lived on the islands that stood between the Pacific Ocean and the Bering Sea.
Others brought strange ways and new religions. Anna shunned their God. The intruders acted like devils; therefore, their God must be evil.
As she studied the man, her mouth went dry and her heart leapt inside her chest. The urge to flee overpowered her resolve to hold her ground. She took Iya’s hand and bolted through the brush as though pursued by demons. She glanced over her shoulder. Did he follow them?
He had turned and moved the other way.
Anna stopped and pulled Iya close as the stranger disappeared behind a small rise. “He is not interested in us,” Anna said, gasping for breath. “Good.” She waited a few minutes longer to assure he would not sneak back and seize them. When he didn’t return, Anna dropped to the soft earth. She patted the ground next to her and motioned for Iya to join her.
The bushes had scratched their unprotected calves and ankles. Anna doctored Iya’s legs with leaves and dirt, wiping away blood that trickled down her ankles, then she did the same for her own damaged limbs.
She leaned back on her elbows, closed her eyes, and tilted her head, allowing the breeze and warm sun to calm her anxiety. “We can rest for a while before we pick berries.”
Iya glanced nervously in the direction the stranger had gone. “What about the man?”
“He is no danger to us.”
Iya’s face held uncertainty and she shivered in the cool breeze as she snuggled close to Anna.
She stared at the sky. “We cannot trust those from the outside. They care only about themselves and bring nothing but pain and suffering to us.”
“Father Ermelov is not from here, and he is always kind,” Iya said, coming to the defense of the Russian priest who often visited their village.
“He is different. I do not believe in his God, but he is kind. I think he hates evil and mistrusts the outsiders just as we do.”
“Where did he come from?”
“Father Ermelov? He is from Unalaska. He has a meeting house there.”
“No. The stranger.”
“I do not know. He comes from a place I have not seen.” Anna shrugged. “There are many lands far from here.” She smiled at Iya. “But it is too beautiful a day to worry about that man. He is gone.” She rolled to her side, closed her eyes, and rested her head in the crook of her arm.
Iya leaned against Anna’s back, and the two lay in the summer sun a little longer. The cliffs muffled the rhythmic pounding of the sea, and the cry of irritable seabirds seemed far away.
The sound of the wind rustling through the grasses quieted Anna’s spirit. Even the pungent odor of the nearby ocean seemed less potent. Anna’s eyelids drooped and she was tempted to stretch out on the soft earth to nap in the afternoon sun. Instead, she stretched her arms above her head and yawned, then forced herself to her feet. The breeze blew her hair into a soft tangle. She brushed at it with her hands, trying to keep the wispy strands out of her eyes, but no matter how hard she tried, they eluded her efforts. She finally gave up and allowed it to do as it wanted.
Iya squinted up at Anna. “Can’t we sleep?”
“I wish we could lie here all day, but Mother’s expecting berries. Come on, they’re waiting to be picked.” She handed a basket to Iya. Still feeling drowsy, she strolled across the field to the berry bushes.
The season for picking had only just begun, and there was very little ripe fruit. The baskets filled slowly.
Iya looked into hers. “It will take forever to fill this basket. I wish I’d made a smaller one.”
“If more berries went into your basket instead of your mouth, it would not take so long.” Anna grinned. “And if you had made a smaller one, you would need to carry two.”
Iya held up her basket, proudly displaying her work. “It is beautiful, is it not?”
“Yes, you did well. It is very pretty. When you are grown, you will make fine baskets like our mother’s.”
Iya examined her work, a pout replacing her smile. “Do you think it is crooked? Inoki said it is, and he said I would never be a good weaver—that no one would marry someone who made crooked baskets.”
That Inoki, always teasing. Anna knelt in front of Iya and looked squarely into her eyes. “You’re a good weaver. Your basket is only a little crooked. This is your first and you can be proud of your work. When Inoki teases, you must not listen.”
Iya nodded and her smile returned.
They went back to work, and the berries mounded. Anna glanced at Iya just as she was about to drop another berry into her mouth. “Iya, no more.” She did her best to look stern, though she wasn’t really angry.
Iya quickly rerouted the fruit and dropped it into her basket.
Anna was tempted by the juicy fruit as well, and a while later she sneaked a berry to her lips.
Iya glanced up just at the right moment. “Anna, do not eat any berries. They go into your basket.” She tried to sound firm, but her little-girl voice only seemed more charming.
They laughed and each popped a small tangy berry into her mouth.
After Anna filled her basket, she helped Iya finish hers. She held a large berry up to the sunlight. “Beautiful.”
Iya nodded and stuffed another into her mouth. “They taste even better.”
“I think we have enough.” Their father would bestow much praise upon them when they returned with their precious offering. Mother also would be pleased and reward them each with an extra portion. “Our father will be happy to have so many.”
Without warning, a low rumble came from beneath their feet, and the ground shook for a moment. A small aftershock, but a reminder they might be needed at home.
Iya gripped Anna’s arm. “Is it going to happen again?”
“No. Only like this—small. It is normal after the earth moves. The ground will shake but not so bad as before.”
Iya looked at her with suspicion, but didn’t argue.
High spirits deflated, Anna said, “Time to go.” She turned back toward the bluffs.
When they reached the trail that led to the beach Iya said, “We hurried so fast I’m tired. Can I rest?”
Anna nodded. “We will rest here, but only for a few minutes.” They sat in the deep grass and Anna set her basket on the ground beside her.
They watched the activity on the beach below. People fixed their homes and assessed other damaged possessions. Many huts were beyond repair and would have to be rebuilt, but they would not be homeless. Other natives would welcome people without shelter into their homes.
“Look, there.” Anna pointed at Inoki as he dashed across the sand.
One of his favorite games was to tease the waves. He tramped carefully toward the breaking surf as the sea washed up the beach, then raced ahead of the water, just out of reach of the white foam. The object was to remain dry, although he rarely did. Inoki enjoyed the surf and often gave into the temptation to dive into the frothy breakers.
Abruptly, he stopped and stared down at the sand. He bent to pick up something. He’d found a large shell, and after examining it carefully, called to their mother. From the way he raised his prize above his head, it was clear he was proud of his find.
Luba looked up from her work and, wearing a smile, waved at her son.
“We’d better get back.” Anna stood and brushed sand from her skirt.
Iya pushed up off the ground and, with her basket of berries tucked under one arm, started down the path.
Anna scanned the beach once more. Something was wrong. The cove looked odd. Trying to clear her vision, she blinked her eyes.
The water in the small bay rushed out to sea. Fish flopped on the wet sand, large, ugly mouths gasping for air. Long-submerged rocks and boats covered with barnacles and other crustaceans were suddenly exposed to the air.
Anna felt horror in the pit of her stomach. “The sea withdraws from the land!”
Iya edged back toward Anna, eyes trained on the beach. She fumbled for her sister’s hand and grasped it.
Inoki, who only moments earlier had frolicked in the surf, fled toward the village, fear etched across his boyish features. In his haste, he fell and peered over his shoulder at the apparition.
Anna willed Inoki back to his feet. “Run!” she screamed. There was nothing she could do.
The villagers wailed. The old ones cried an alarm, urging everyone to flee to the cliffs. They knew what was coming. Terror was written upon their faces.
The bay emptied, as if the god of the sea had gulped down the waters.
Anna couldn’t believe what her eyes told her. She squeezed Iya’s hand hard and pulled her close. Her mind screamed that she must help, but she could do nothing more than stand and watch.
A thunderous sound came from the ocean as a monstrous swell converged with the receding water. With terrifying speed and power, it approached the beach, growing larger as it advanced. The merciless mountain of water viciously bore down on the small village.
Panicked villagers screamed and scrambled for safety, but the wave was too swift. Mothers picked up crying infants and dragged older children behind, while the old hobbled toward promised safety.
Alulak didn’t run but stood facing the coming water.
“Kinauquak! Where is Kinauquak?” Anna cried as she searched the beach. Then she saw him.
He had turned back to his grandmother and now tugged on her arm, but she wouldn’t take her eyes from the sea. Finally he fled, leaving the old woman to face the ocean’s wrath.
No one could escape its fury. As it hit the beach, the wall of water grew taller. It scooped up Inoki, tossed him effortlessly into the air, then pulled the helpless young boy into the seething flood. Next the umiaks and baidarkas on the beach vanished in the tide. Relentlessly, the churning mass of seawater, sand, and vegetation moved up the beach. It slammed into the village. Alulak never moved, disappearing under the roar of water, meeting her death honorably.
Anna watched in horror as the water engulfed her home and swooped down upon her family. A scream wrenched itself from her throat as her mother vanished beneath the rogue wave. She couldn’t bear to watch but was unable to look away.
The slayer moved inland and, unbelievably, grew in size and intensity as it advanced, destroying everything in its path. Villagers scrambling for the rocks, trying to escape the giant wall of water, disappeared one by one into the foaming, muddy flood.
Kinauquak, clinging to the cliff, tried to pull himself out of reach of the killer, but was plucked from the rocks.
The wave rammed into the sheer rock face and threatened to reach beyond the cliffs, to snatch Anna and Iya from their perch. Paralyzed, she watched in revulsion as the mountain of water smashed against the cliffs with a thunderous roar, hungering for more victims.
Another wave followed the first, and another, but finally, its energy spent, the water receded and slowly retreated to the sea. It left quietly, as though it had never visited, but its spoils could not be ignored. It had come, devouring their home, their people, their life.
Anna’s legs crumpled beneath her, and she slumped to the ground.
Iya mutely climbed into her arms. Once safely tucked within her sister’s embrace, she whimpered quietly.
Anna clung to Iya, comforting and seeking comfort. Eyes unseeing, she rocked the little girl and chanted a mournful tune.
There were no tears as dusk settled over the island. The two orphans silently held each other and finally slept. But even in sleep, Anna could not escape the nightmare of the giant waves. Distorted images and pictures of death filled her dreams. There would be no one else to bring comfort; they had only each other.