Anna clamped the tips of her fingers around the coarse shell of the mussel and pulled, but the teardrop-shaped creature refused to loosen its grip and clung stubbornly to the rock. She tugged harder with no success. Gingerly, she slid her jagged fingernails under the edge of the blue-black shell. It came free unexpectedly and Anna lost her balance, falling backward into the shallow, icy water of the bay. She sat there for a moment, ignoring the cold and wet, and studied the small animal in her hand before dropping it into her half-empty basket. Was all this worth the effort?
Of course it was. Any food was needed. These small creatures would help keep her and Iya from starving during the long winter.
Anna had gathered mussels many times, but always with the help of others. The tedious, often painful work required diligence, but the reward was delicious, succulent meat.
Anna staggered to her feet and stood with her arms extended from her sides. Water dripped from her clothing.
Iya muffled a laugh behind her hand.
Anna squeezed the excess moisture from her tunic. “It is not funny.” She shook her head, but a smile emerged. Iya’s laughter was a beautiful sound. She looked down at herself. How funny she must look, like a big chunk of limp sea grass.
Soon both of them stood ankle-deep in the bay laughing until they were out of breath.
It felt good to laugh.
Anna waved her cracked and bloodied hands. The sea water made them sting. “I need oil for these.” She held them up for Iya to see, then shook her mostly empty basket. “Father Ermelov used to speak of hell and its demons. These creatures must be the demons he spoke of.”
Iya’s eyes grew large and she peered cautiously into her own basket.
“I am teasing,” Anna said. “But if we did not need the food, I would not spend a minute more gathering the little beasts.”
Iya didn’t look convinced about the mussels not being demons.
“They will taste good. I think tonight we will have some.”
Iya’s nod of agreement was followed by a hard shiver. Wet, she held her own damaged hands up for Anna’s inspection.
“I will make them better,” Anna said. “When we get back to the cave.”
The laughter now gone, Iya’s shoulders sagged and her inconceivable loss showed on her young face.
Sorrow squeezed Anna’s heart. If only she could remove her sister’s pain. “Are you all right?”
Iya’s face was a mask of gloom as she slowly moved her head from side to side.
Anna pushed her way through the water and pulled the child close. “We are not alone. Our family is here. Their spirits will never leave us.”
Iya looked up at Anna, chin quivering. “It does not feel like they are here.” She wiped at a tear.
“We cannot put our faith in feelings. I am certain they are close.” Anna kissed the top of Iya’s head.
The little girl nodded and put on a faint smile. “My basket fills too slowly. I do not think these mussels wish to be my supper.”
Anna chuckled softly and ruffled Iya’s hair. “Any creature that gives its life for us is worthy of our respect. Even if it is stubborn, we should be grateful for its sacrifice.” She looked inside her basket. “We will steam these tonight. They will slide easily down our throats and fill our empty bellies. We can gather more, and those we will preserve for the months to come.”
With renewed interest, Anna returned to her tedious work, ignoring the pain in her hands and fingers. After breaking off a nail right down to the quick, she took out her knife. It would be so much easier to pry the mussels free if she could use it. She stared at it for a few moments, then returned it to its sheath. It was not worth the risk of damaging or losing the valued tool.
The wind stopped and the air stilled—a mixed blessing during the summer months. It felt warmer without the wind, but less breeze meant more pests, especially mosquitoes. Anna swatted at the persistent insects, but there were too many zealously persisting in their assault.
Iya was also preoccupied by the insects’ onslaught, and her basket remained nearly empty while she swatted and jumped under the bugs’ merciless attack.
Soon both girls were covered with welts.
“If the wind does not return soon, we will have to cover ourselves with mud.” Anna studied a mosquito that landed on her arm. She watched until it was still, then swiftly swung her hand down and crushed it. With the tip of her finger, she flicked it away.
Iya scratched at a welt on her face. All of a sudden, she moved close to Anna and grabbed hold of her arm. “Look.” She pointed down the beach.
Anna drew in a sharp breath.
That man.
Again.
With long strides, the outsider moved swiftly toward them. He looked determined and moved with an air of confidence as he closed the distance. Something dangled from his hand, but he was still too far away for Anna to make out what it was. Bracing for whatever might come, she drew herself up tall and lifted her chin slightly. Her restless hands remained at her sides.
As the man drew closer Anna could see he carried a large salmon in one hand and something resembling a stick in the other. A spear?
Purposely, she dropped her shoulders and unclenched her hands to show no fear.
When he was just yards away, it became clear that he did not carry a spear but something more like a slender stick.
The man’s face looked stern and unyielding.
Anna swallowed hard and tried to add height to her five-foot frame.
“What should we do?” Iya asked.
“We will see what he wants, then send him away.” Anna sounded confident, though she quaked inside. “Be still.”
The stranger stopped only ten feet from them. He held out the salmon and nodded as though they would understand his meaning.
Anna maintained her stance. “What you want?” In English, but tone hostile.
“I brought this for you and the child,” he answered in a strong and steady voice.
“We not need help.” Anna raised her chin a little higher. “We care for selves.” She placed her hand on Iya’s shoulder.
“Look, I’m just trying to help. What do you think I’m going to do?”
“You outsider.”
“I’m not going to hurt you. I thought I could help.”
“How?” Anna challenged him with a glare.
“Well, this will make several meals.” He extended the fish to her again.
Unintentionally, Anna’s voice softened as she replied, “We catch own fish.”
The man looked about, threw his free hand up in frustration, and countered, “I don’t see any. How do you plan to catch them?”
Anna didn’t reply at first, then said feebly, “Have net.” Unable to maintain her hard stare, her gaze slid away from his, but only for a moment.
“I have a fishing pole.” He raised his stick in the air. “It makes catching fish easy.”
Anna stared at him and didn’t reply.
He shook his head and mumbled, “I’ll leave this here for you.” He laid the salmon on the sand in front of him. “It’s yours if you want it.” After staring at Anna for a minute, he turned abruptly and marched back down the beach the way he had come.
Anna stood and silently watched him go.
Once he was out of hearing range, Iya asked, “Why can’t we eat the fish?”
“We do not need his help. We can care for ourselves.”
“Please, could we eat it? I am hungry.”
Anna thought for a minute. If they didn’t eat it, the gulls would. Senseless. “We will take it when he is gone.”
Iya smiled.
As the man disappeared into the mist, Iya reached for the salmon. It was so large that she had to hoist it onto her shoulder to carry it. Staggering a little, she headed up the beach toward their shelter. After only a few steps, she set the fish down and stopped to catch her breath. Looking back at Anna, she said, “This is a very big fish.”
Anna only nodded, her thoughts preoccupied by the stranger. Why was he here, and what did he want from them?
Iya groaned as she tried to lift the salmon again.
“Iya, you carry the baskets.” Anna relieved the girl of her burden. She lifted the fish into the air to inspect it. “It was foolish of the man to give away such a prize, but this will quiet the rumbling in our bellies.” She smiled all the way to the cave.
Anna cooked a portion of the fish over the open fire and sliced off a piece for Iya and one for herself. She sat with her legs crossed, juice dripping from her hands, and devoured the mild-tasting, pink flesh.
“Mm, good,” Iya said after finishing her portion. She patted her stomach and smiled. This time, her eyes smiled, too.
“We will dry the rest with the walrus meat.” Anna held up the remainder of the salmon. “This will feed us for many days.”
As she sliced the fish into thin strips, she contemplated what she knew of the stranger.
He had not harmed them. Still, he was an outsider and could not be trusted. He must want something. The elders always taught that those from the outside could not understand native ways and would bring only trouble. It was unwise to trust the man.
She set the slices of fish aside as Iya drew a picture in the sand with a stick. She watched the little girl for a few moments before returning to her work, mind filled with thoughts of the visitor with the golden hair.
Why does he want to help us? And why does he share his food with strangers? In this, he is like us.
Instead of quieting her discomfort, the idea only unsettled her more.
He seemed to be a man of courage and strength. A man of his size could have easily overpowered her, but he hadn’t.
She hung the sliced fish up to dry and stoked the fading fire.
Iya had fallen asleep, curled up on soft sand.
Anna moved about quietly, careful not to wake her, then sat for a long time, considering what she should do.
I must talk to him. When the sun is low in the sky and Iya sleeps, I will find the stranger.
A suffocating fear came over her. Still, she must go to him. She and Iya needed help. Winter would come and then what would they do? How could she provide?
The wood pile had dwindled.
Anna quietly left the shelter in search of more. While she gathered driftwood, she occasionally stopped and studied the bluffs. Was the outsider up there watching her?
Soon, a sleepy-looking Iya joined her. At first she only followed along while Anna worked. She watched the gulls and puffins as they glided above the waves, squawking and squalling as they competed for food. After a while, she worked alongside Anna.
With enough wood to last a few days, Anna rested outside the small cave. As she looked out across the wet sand, she told Iya, “We must build a larger house. The weather will grow cold soon and this cave is not big enough to protect us from the winter storms. We can make mud from the heavy dirt on the bluffs and bind it with rocks and grass. We’ll have a very strong barabara of our own. It will take many days to build.”
“We will do this alone?”
“First we gather the stones we will need.” She headed down the beach.
Once more they used the fronts of their skirts as pouches, filling them with stones. They had decided to build their new home near the cliffs, close to the path that led to the bluffs so if they needed to escape, they could do so quickly.
They carried their heavy loads to the cliff wall, shuffling through the sand, backs arched to offset the weight of the rocks. Tired, Anna set down her load, wiped her brow, and braced the small of her back with her hands. “I am thirsty.” She sat and leaned against the cliff wall, motioning for Iya to join her. Removing the water pouch from her belt, she handed it to her younger sister.
Iya gulped down the water.
After Iya drank her fill, Anna took her share. “We will rest a while. Tomorrow we can collect more stones, but no more today. Instead we can gather grass for baskets. It has to dry several days before we can use it, so we must cut it now while there is no rain.”
They climbed the familiar path to the bluffs with Anna in the lead.
Once they reached the top, Anna scanned the open fields, searching for the stranger. After taking a knife from her bag, she grasped a handful of the stiff island grass and sliced it off close to the earth.
Iya took the green shoots and laid them in a pile. Soon there were two large mounds of grass.
Anna took four long strips of hide and tied two of them tightly around one bundle, then did the same with the other. Taking the largest of the piles, she raised it to her shoulder and waited while Iya hefted the other.
“This is all today,” Anna said. “We can come back for more tomorrow.” With a heavy sigh she added, “There is much to do before the dark days come.”
Was the stranger near?
Finding no sign that he was, she started back toward the cliffs.
Iya fell into step beside her. “What will we do when the darkness comes? What will we eat?”
“Dried meat. And we will use the fat from the walrus to preserve the berries. The mussels will also stay fresh in the oil. Fish and sea grass can be dried and stored. We will not go hungry, Iya. I promise.” The responsibility seemed overwhelming. Could she keep this promise?
After returning to the beach, they laid out some of the grass in the sun to dry. The rest they spread inside the shelter for bedding.
Anna plopped down in the soft bed and took a deep breath. “Mm, it smells so good. Iya, smell it.”
Iya happily obeyed and lay down beside Anna. She breathed deeply of the fresh cut grass and closed her eyes. “It is like being on the bluff.”
Anna nodded and forced herself to her feet. She stoked the fire and cut off a chunk of walrus blubber for Iya. Anna took one for herself and sat silently enjoying the life-giving food and the soft bed.
After finishing, Anna doled out a handful of berries for each.
Iya quickly popped the fruit into her mouth. “My stomach is still rumbling. Can I have more?”
“No, that is all. We must eat only what we need. No more. Go to sleep and you will not feel the emptiness in your belly.” She helped Iya snuggle down into her bed of fresh grass and stroked her hair until the child’s eyes closed and rhythmic breathing attested to her slumber.
Anna grasped the shaman’s spear and quietly left the cave. She crept down the beach. What would she say to the stranger when she found him? Why did she feel the need to seek him out?
She walked up the steep path away from the beach as quickly as safety would allow and, once atop the cliffs, scanned the fields of tall swaying grasses.
Patches of fog had settled over the island and haze covered the bluffs. Quietly she made her way across the knolls, stopping occasionally to look for anything unusual and listen for any sound that would give away the stranger’s location.
The only sounds were the rushing wind and the continuous pounding of the distant surf.
Anna searched the entire bluff. Nearly ready to give up, she sat on a large rock to rest. The sun sat low in the sky and dusk settled over the land. The semi-darkness made it more difficult to see.
Iya might awaken, worry when Anna wasn’t there … but she couldn’t give up. She had to find the man.
A slight scent of smoke hung in the air. What direction did it come from?
It must be him. She walked toward the smell and soon she saw a small plume of smoke rising from a hollow.
Cautiously, every sense alert, Anna crept toward the drifting smoke. Her heart raced and her breathing hurried. She stopped, calming herself before entering the stranger’s camp. Small and surefooted, she moved silently through the brush, confident of surprising him. But what would she do once she confronted him?
Anna crept to the edge of the embankment.
The tall, blond man casually leaned over, picked up a piece of wood, and added it to his fire. Then he sat back against a rock and sipped some sort of hot liquid from a tin cup. He seemed completely unaware of her presence.
Anna’s mouth watered. The smell of frying fish lingered in the air. She reprimanded herself for listening to her stomach instead of keeping her mind on her objective.
Taking a deep breath, she walked straight into the man’s camp. With resolve, she moved into the light of his fire. She stood directly in front of the outsider and planted the tip of the spear in the ground with her right hand while she placed her left hand firmly on her hip. Tipping her chin up defiantly, Anna demanded in English, “What you want from us?”
A look of shock froze on the man’s face.
Anna fought to keep her satisfaction hidden.
A roguish smile quickly overtook his features and startling blue eyes locked onto her, unsettling Anna’s confidence. He said nothing for a minute, but instead sipped his drink. When he did speak, his words were slow and deliberate. “Well, you are a surprise. Please, have a seat.” He gestured for her to sit opposite him.
Anna didn’t move.
The man’s eyebrows rose. “To answer your question, I don’t want anything. I didn’t plan on finding you and the girl, but it seems we’ve been thrown together. You two can’t survive here on your own, and I can’t stay. Winter will be setting in, and I’ve got to move on.” He lowered his gaze and studied Anna closely. “I’ll take you and the little one with me.”
He wants us to leave? To go where?
“I thought another village might take you in.”
Never. “This is our home. We stay.”
“Be reasonable. You have no home. It was washed away. There’s nothing left for you here. The tsunami took it all.” He stopped for a moment and said with a hint of compassion, “I’m sorry about your family.”
“What you know of my people?”
This outsider knew nothing of her loss.
The man seemed momentarily uneasy. He resumed his business-like tone. “Facts are facts. You two are alone. There is no one left to help you.”
“We not need help.” She spoke out of pride, though he was right.
A muscle twitched in his jaw. “I know you think you can take care of yourselves, but have you thought of the girl? What if something happens to you?”
A tremor went through Anna. The thought hadn’t occurred to her. What would happen to Iya if she weren’t there to help her? She pressed her hand to her abdomen. When she brought the child into the world, she might die.
“I asked you a question.” The man’s gaze held hers.
Anna squirmed under his scrutiny. “I not know,” she whispered. Unwilling to be mastered by this man, she set her jaw. “Nothing happen me. I not let. Gods protect.”
“Gods? Where were your gods when the waves swept away your village?”
Anna winced against the cruel words.
Sympathy flickered in the man’s eyes. “You can’t be sure of anything. You could fall into the sea or slip while going down the trail. One day, you may not be here for that little girl. What will happen to her then?”
Grudgingly, Anna measured his words. They held truth. She glared at him. “You have plan?”
He leaned back and once more motioned for Anna to sit across the fire from him.
Reluctantly, she sank to the ground and waited for him to speak.
“Well, I thought I could take you with me and find another village for you two. Most of the natives I’ve met have been friendly, and it seems to me that you and the girl would be happier with others of your own kind.”
“How go to other village? We not have umiak or baidarka.”
“I do. On the other side of the island, I’ve got an umiak. I pulled it up into a cave in the cliffs, so it was protected from the flood.”
He had a boat for them? She placed her arms across her chest and carefully studied the face of the stranger. Could she trust him? He spoke the truth. If something happened to her, Iya would be alone.
I cannot put her in such danger. There was no choice but to rely on this man. The thought churned her stomach, but she and Iya needed help. Curtly she said, “My name Anna. What I call you?”
He grinned broadly, reached across the fire, and shook Anna’s hand. “My name is Erik Engstrom. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Anna pulled her hand free.
Erik chuckled. “It’s just a handshake. It means …” He hesitated as if looking for the right word. “It means we’re partners.”
“When we leave?”
“In a day or two. The rain will come again soon, and we have a long way to travel before winter sets in.”
“Not enough time. I dry walrus and fish. Have only little berries.”
“There will be plenty of fresh game along the way. We can take everything we’ve got with us. I have some supplies, and we can pick plants and berries as we go. Plus I’ll do lots of fishing.”
He would offer transport and food. Anna nodded. “I go now.” She’d been gone too long already. “We talk again.”
The sun, which had set briefly, began to rise as Anna arrived at the cave. She fed the fire and quietly settled into her bed, breathing in the sweet fragrance of the summer grass.
Iya slept peacefully, unaware that life was about to take another incredible turn.
Erik was not like any outsider she had met. Am I doing the right thing?
Her mother would have known what to do. Anna’s eyes filled with tears. Kinauquak’s memory was so powerful he seemed to be lying next to her. The smell of him filled Anna’s nostrils.
“You are so brave and strong, you would have cared for us,” she whispered to his presence.
His spirit departed, and emptiness invaded the space.
Tears slipped down her cheeks. Anna rested her hand on her abdomen. “I will always have a part of you, Kinauquak,” she said into the gloom before closing her eyes.