As the sun sank below the edge of the sea, Anna thought about Erik and the one called Jesus. Erik seemed to know this God almost as one would a friend. How can a man know God? And why would an ancient tale affect him so powerfully?
Exhausted and sore from hours of rowing, she felt her endurance wane and searched for a place to put ashore. When none was found, she stubbornly fought to keep up with Erik, matching her strokes with his. Although mist hung above the water and the temperature was cool, sweat rolled down Anna’s temples and dripped from her chin. Finally, even her tenacity gave out. Too weary to continue, she laid her paddle aside.
Iya had curled up on the bottom of the boat and, with her hands tucked under her head, slept peacefully.
Anna leaned against the side, rested her head on her arms, and tried to sleep, but thoughts of Erik drifted through her mind. The longer she knew him, the greater puzzle he became. He was unlike any other man she had known.
Is it his God that makes him so different?
She closed her eyes and breathed in the damp, salty air. What had Father Ermelov taught during his visits to their village? She’d never been interested and had paid little attention. Now when she wished to understand, his words were no more than a jumble of confusing theology churning in her memory. Oh, why didn’t I listen? She groaned in her spirit.
Finally, fatigue overcame the busyness of her mind, and the gentle rocking of the umiak carried her close to sleep.
Erik continued paddling, his gaze trained on the nearby coastline. His strokes weakened and slowed, until he, too, succumbed to fatigue. Pulling his paddle from the water, he set it on the floor of the boat, rearranged his knapsack, and rested his head upon it. His eyes closed. Occasionally he looked up and glanced at the shore, but after a while, his breathing slowed to a steady rhythm and his eyes remained closed.
Under the stars flickering in the dark canopy overhead, Anna finally slept.
A pesky seagull’s squawking its irritation at the intruders awakened Anna the following morning. Disoriented, she rubbed her eyes and turned to Erik, who seemed to also be struggling to come fully awake.
He glanced at Anna and slumbering Iya, then checked the seal tethered to the boat. “We need to find a place to put ashore. I didn’t mean to sleep so long.” He studied the shoreline and the sun to get his bearings and almost immediately pointed to a small inlet. “Look there. A beach.” He grabbed his paddle. “Wake up, Iya. We’re putting ashore.”
Iya stretched and blinked as she peered about. Anna quickly cleared her head and forced her sore, stiff muscles into action, paddling hard toward solid ground. Even one more minute in the cramped quarters seemed intolerable.
“What you find? Village?” Iya asked, her voice hopeful.
“Can’t say for certain,” Erik said. “I don’t see any sign of life. We’ll have to do some exploring.” He continued paddling steadily, gaze fixed on the bay. “Looks like this will be the safest approach.” He steered past a large rock outcropping and headed the small craft straight into the cove.
The surf picked up the umiak and carried it into the shallow waters.
Erik and Anna jumped into the knee-deep breakers and guided the boat onto the black, sandy beach.
With the boat safely ashore, Anna pushed her hair out of her eyes and looked about.
The empty beach held no evidence of inhabitants.
She planted her feet on a steady surface, one that did not roll beneath her.
Iya leapt out of the boat and scampered across the sand, throwing herself about in a jubilant dance. “Sand warm. Feel good.” Her face glowed with delight.
The warmth of the sand under Anna’s feet soothed. She looked down the beach, squinting against the brilliance of the sun reflecting off the sand. Sunshine was welcome, but it intensified the discomfort of chapped, sunburned skin.
Gingerly she touched her dry, flaking face. Even though she applied a protective coat of oil every day, the constant wind, saltwater, and summer sun damaged her skin.
She glanced up at the clear sky and longed for cloud cover and moisture, a marked change from her desires of the past. How often she had complained about the damp weather to her mother. Luba had explained that she should accept and be thankful for what each day brought.
Her mother had been right. If only she could tell her so.
Wind gusts whipped Anna’s hair across her face like a strap, stinging her tender skin. She lifted it away but the breeze only tossed it back. She finally gave up.
Iya suffered, too.
Anna retrieved the pouch of rendered walrus fat. “Iya, let me put some of this on you. It will soothe your burning skin.” She knelt in the sand, pulled Iya’s hair away from her face, and applied the balm to the little girl’s skin. “Feel better?”
Iya bobbed her head.
Anna held the oil up for Erik. “You want? You worse than us.”
“Take care of yourselves first.” Erik hauled the seal onto the beach.
Anna carefully spread the grease over her inflamed skin, then handed the pouch to Erik.
“This stuff smells terrible, but I’d hate to think how we’d feel without it.” Erik smoothed the salve over his face and arms. After returning the oil to the boat, he dragged the seal farther up the shore.
Anna followed. As the women in the village did, she would help with the butchering.
Erik quickly skinned and gutted the animal.
Anna stood by, waiting for an invitation that never came. As the minutes passed, her anger swelled, growing stronger with each pass of his knife.
Erik glanced up. “Why don’t you and Iya gather some wood? We’ll roast a piece of this as soon as I’m done here.”
Anna clenched her teeth. He had even told her she was good with hides. I should slaughter the animal. It is not for a man to do. He knows nothing of our ways. She turned on her heel and took Iya to collect the wood.
The occasional glint of Erik’s knife flashed across the beach.
Her resentment grew. After starting the fire, she approached him. He would yield her place. Standing directly in his line of vision, she spoke in a quiet but firm voice. “I good flesher and softener of hides. I clean skin.” She met Erik’s gaze, resolute.
Erik squinted against the sun. “Sure. I’m almost done here. I’ll cook up some of this while you get started.”
No fight? Anna deflated. Why hadn’t Erik challenged her request? She sat on a nearby log as he finished. She hated to admit it, but he handled a knife with expertise. He is skilled, wasting none of the flesh while protecting the hide.
As was Kinauquak.
This tall, graceful man looked far different from her dark-haired mate. They were different on the inside, too. Kinauquak, always tense, ready to pounce. Erik, unhurried and calm, yet never slow or careless.
Her throat felt tight, but the pain of her lost love was not as intense as it had once been, and he no longer seemed so near. Momentary panic took hold of her.
Would she forget him? Her hand went to the small swelling in her abdomen.
He would never be forgotten.
After he finished, Erik plunged the blade into the sand, wiped the edge of it across his pant leg, and slipped the knife back into the sheath hanging from his belt. “It’s all yours.” He took a couple of chunks of meat and headed for the fire. “After we eat, I’ll slice the rest of it and hang it to dry. We could use a couple days rest.” He glanced about. “This is as good a place as any.”
Anna pulled a stone from her pouch. One side was rounded and the other was sharp, hewn to a fine edge for scraping away the sinew and tallow from the inside of a hide. Lifting the hide, she admired the sheen of the fur and the thickness of the seal’s pelt. This will make a fine coat.
As she worked, feelings of admiration for the outsider emerged once more. She scraped harder at the hide, hoping to drive away the feelings and remove Erik from her mind. Hard work did not help.
Erik’s intense blue eyes stirred up feelings of tenderness. One moment they were gentle, the next filled with fire, always captivating and unreadable. Erik kept himself hidden. If she could see past the eyes, to the soul of the man … but Erik vigilantly guarded his feelings. At times he almost seemed a boy, yet always the man remained.
After breaking for their meal, Erik and Anna both resumed their tasks and worked in companionable silence. Erik sliced the meat thin and draped it over a makeshift rack while Anna fleshed the hide.
Erik placed the last slice of meat up to dry, nodded toward Iya, and said, “Looks like she’s got the right idea.”
Iya had curled up next to the fire and was sound asleep.
Anna nodded in agreement, stretched her back, and rubbed at sore muscles in her arms. “Time I join her.” She draped the partially fleshed hide over a log, then gratefully curled up beside the sleeping girl.
Erik stretched out opposite them. He glanced across the flames at Anna and smiled at her before closing his eyes.
Anna looked away.
The burden of the trip had taken its toll, sapping the strength of all three travelers. They slept soundly the remainder of that day and through the night.
Late the following morning, Erik rose first and had a morning meal of mussels and dried berries ready for Anna and Iya when they awoke.
The three sat around the fire. It seemed good and right, the three of them together. Almost as if they were family.
Anna looked up and found Erik staring at her. She blushed under his gaze, and her heartbeat quickened. Immediately she looked away. Why did a simple look from him stir such strong feelings in her? He is an outsider, she reminded herself. “Seal healthy, fine hide. Gun not hurt pelt. If our hunters had guns, we have full bellies.” She dropped a berry in her mouth. “You skin seal good, protect hide.”
“Thank you. That’s a fine compliment coming from you.”
“I work on pelt now.” Anna moved away from the campfire.
Iya followed. “You show me?”
“No. Too hard. Not for little girls. You have to grow. I teach when time is right.”
Iya frowned.
Anna stopped and caressed the child’s cheek. “Later we search for berries, wild potatoes, and maybe find putske.”
A smile replaced Iya’s frown and she went back to the campfire. She plopped herself down beside Erik and cuddled up next to the big man.
He emptied his coffee cup, reached his long arm around the little girl, and gave her a hug. “I’m going to take a look around. Would you like to come along?”
Iya’s eyes turned bright. “Yes.” She jumped to her feet.
“Do you mind if she does a little exploring with me?”
“You go.” Anna returned to her work and grew so engrossed in her effort to produce a good-quality pelt that she didn’t notice the passage of time. Not until the sun was high in the sky did she stop. Wiping sweat from her brow, she stood and stretched her back. As she gulped down a cup of coffee, she gazed up the beach.
No sign of Erik and Iya. “They should be back by now.” Her words sounded hushed on the empty shore. They would come soon.
The day passed and evening came.
Anna’s back and arms ached from her work. She set aside the pelt and walked about the camp for a few minutes to work out her stiffness.
It was very late, and the sun had begun to set.
They had been gone too long. She peered up the beach toward the cliffs.
Twilight settled over the land and there was still no sign of them.
Fear struck a cold, sharp chord inside Anna. She shrugged it off. Erik could take care of any situation.
But he should have returned by now.
Anna went back to her work but, unable to concentrate, finally gave up. She draped the hide over a piece of driftwood. Tomorrow would be soon enough to finish.
She rekindled the fire and looked into the gloom as she melted fat in the frying pan. What if Iya and Erik did not come back? She cut off slabs of seal and tossed them into the pan, then added the tubers to heat them.
With the coffee brewing in the coals, she huddled close to the fire and watched the sun sink into the sea. As dusk settled around her, a feeling of foreboding grabbed hold of Anna. She tried to eat, but the food stuck in her throat. Finally, she set it aside, deciding to share it with Erik and Iya later when they returned.
If they return.
Unable to sit and wait, she paced. Anna’s panic grew as the darkness deepened. She couldn’t even search for them. She had no idea where they had gone.
A sound came from the distance.
She stopped pacing to listen.
Again the sound, but this time, as it filtered toward her out of the night, she recognized it as Iya’s voice. She took in a relieved breath.
They were coming.
Staring into the darkness, she heard something more—other voices. Her apprehension returned. Someone was with Erik and Iya.
Iya stepped into the light of the fire, wearing a smile. Clearly she was not afraid.
Erik followed, along with five native men. “Look what we found,” he said jovially.
Iya skipped to Anna and threw her arms around her sister’s waist.
Unable to believe what she saw, Anna stood mute and waited for Erik’s explanation.
He seemed a little too jolly as he pointed to a stocky, middle-aged man. “This is Innokenti. He is the leader of a village on the other side of the hills.”
The man pulled himself up to his full five-foot-six-inch height and, bowing his head slightly, said, “I Innokenti Tungiyan.”
The others also bobbed their heads but said nothing.
Anna managed a weak smile and returned a respectful bow.
“Dinner is cooked and waiting for us. Please, sit.” Erik poured a cup of hot coffee and offered the dark brew to the tribal leader.
Innokenti accepted the drink and tasted it. With a smile, he nodded his pleasure and then sat, motioning for the other men to sit as well. He drank the coffee and returned the cup for a refill.
Anna divided the meal and offered each guest a small serving of seal along with potato tubers. She and Iya took their places outside the circle of men.
Iya looked at her small portion and with pleading eyes, said, “I am hungry.”
“Sh.”
The visitors eyed the food greedily but did not eat.
Innokenti lifted his dish to thank the gods for their gift, then scooped a chunk of seal meat into his mouth.
With the necessary proprieties out of the way, the native men wolfed down their meal.
Something didn’t seem right. She studied them. These men are more than hungry.
With their plates empty, the visitors sat back and belched their satisfaction.
“Good,” Innokenti said.
The others made sounds of agreement.
“Wish I had more to offer you.” Erik refilled Innokenti’s coffee cup.
Silence settled over the group.
Innokenti’s eyes darted about as he surveyed Erik’s belongings. He seemed edgy and finally stood and signaled for the others to follow him.
Without a word of good-bye, they disappeared into the darkness.
Anna stared after them. An uneasy feeling settled in the pit of her stomach.
“Their village might make a good home for you and Iya.” Erik stretched out on his bedding. “Tomorrow, we’ll go and take a look.” He yawned, rested his head in the crook of his arm, and closed his eyes, as if the issue were settled.
Anna stared into the dying embers of the fire. She would be traveling no farther with this man.
The thought brought no pleasure.
This is what we wanted … but if that is so, why do I feel sad?
Worse than that, apprehensive. Something didn’t seem right about the men who had eaten with them.
“Anna, we live in village?” Iya asked in a small voice.
“I do not know. Not time for talk. Time to sleep. We decide tomorrow.”
Anna slept little and the following morning she still felt edgy. She tried to set aside her uneasiness by focusing her attention on breakfast preparations, but her apprehension held fast.
After breakfast the three travelers set out for the village, following a winding trail that snaked up the cliffs to open ground and down the other side into a cove. The small village sprawled along a beach that was nearly identical to the one they had camped on.
There were several huts, but smoke rose from only a few and the village seemed somber. No sounds of laughter or chatter, no children running and playing. It was too quiet. Though this was a time for fishing, the racks stood empty, and the smoke house devoid of smoke.
Something was wrong.
Unless it had something to do with different customs. She was probably worrying about nothing.
But as they walked into the village it became more difficult to dismiss her doubts.
The villagers were unfriendly. Yes, they were outsiders, but it was still a very uncommon practice among the Aleut to be aloof. Yet it was more indifference than hostility. Their faces looked hollow with dark circles beneath vacant looking eyes. Most moved as if they’d been stripped of energy.
With each step, Anna became more ill at ease. Stomach tightening, she passed a sightless, elderly man who huddled near a crumbling hut. He looks like he has been cast aside.
That would never happen among her people. She fought the impulse to flee up the winding trail, over the cliffs, and back to the relative safety of their camp.
A young boy ran up and tried to speak to them but was quickly snatched away by his mother and reprimanded sharply for his indiscretion.
Iya’s grip on Anna’s hand tightened.
Anna smiled down at the frightened child, hoping to comfort her.
Other children, with bloated bellies and empty expressions, watched from a distance.
That’s what plagued these people—starvation.
They will not let us stay. She found comfort in the fact.
Innokenti emerged from a nearby hut and approached them with short, quick strides. He seemed more robust than the others, but still had the sickly look of one who had not eaten enough for some time. He extended his hand in a sign of friendship. “Come. Sit. We talk.” He led them back to his disheveled hut and motioned for them to sit but didn’t offer any food or drink, which had always been the accepted custom of Anna’s people.
These people should have plenty. The sea always provided. If she were a man, she could ask Innokenti the reason for their want.
An uncomfortable silence descended upon the small group as they looked at one another.
Erik cleared his throat. “We’ve been traveling for many days. Thank you for your hospitality.” Nodding in Anna and Iya’s direction, he said, “Their people were killed.” He paused as his gaze fell upon Anna.
Their eyes locked for a moment.
He looked back at Innokenti. “I’m heading up to Cook Inlet and can’t take them with me. We’ve been searching for a place where they can stay.” He received only blank stares. “A new home.”
Innokenti’s eyes turned cold and wary, his mouth clamped into a hard line, and his air of friendship was replaced by one of mistrust and animosity.
Erik held the other man’s stare. “You could take them in. They’re both hard workers, and Anna is a good flesher of hides. They will bring favor to your people.”
Innokenti scowled at Erik. “My people hungry. We have no food for two more.” He stood as if to leave.
Quickly Erik jumped to his feet, never taking his eyes from the other man. “I can see you face hard times—”
“It is your kind who bring sorrow to my people. Men come and they take our furs and our food.”
Erik’s expression turned grim. “I’m sorry. But I did not do that to you. Maybe I can help.” He stroked his beard. “I’ll make a deal with you. You take the girls, and I’ll give you the seal meat.”
Interest flickered in Innokenti’s eyes as he considered Erik’s offer. “I talk to others.” He turned and walked away.
Erik watched him go. “I guess that means we’ll have to wait and see. Let’s get back to camp.” He headed up the path with Anna and Iya close behind.
Anna was afraid—more for Iya than herself. Their future life in this village would hold few pleasures. She mulled over the possibilities, and a dark foreboding laid hold of her. She did not want to stay here.
The day dragged by. There was much to do, but work proved only a minor distraction as they waited.
Erik prepared their noon meal and called for Anna and Iya to join him.
Anna set aside the seal hide she was working on and glanced up. She wasn’t hungry but forced herself to her feet and ambled toward the fire.
Iya glanced at Erik, tossed a stone into the surf, and scurried up the beach toward camp.
Erik dished out the stew made from the tubers and seal. “Looks pretty good. I’m hungry. How about you?”
Anna took her plate and sat on a nearby log.
Instead of the usual banter, the three travelers occasionally glanced at each other but Anna could think of nothing to talk about. The scraping of spoons across tin plates and an occasional pop of burning wood were the only sounds. The silence grew loud in Anna’s ears.
Erik set aside his unfinished meal and looked at Anna. “I know it’s not a perfect situation here, but in time, I think they’ll be all right. One day it will be a good home for you.”
Anna stared out at the pounding surf. She should tell him she didn’t want to stay, that something was terribly wrong, that she was afraid. Instead, she turned her eyes back to her plate.
“I wish I could do more for you. But I’ve done all I can. I’m sorry.” Erik stood. “We said from the beginning that when we found another village you two would stay.”
They were a burden to Erik. He didn’t need them. They were in his way. He had plans. He had already done a great deal for them.
She couldn’t expect more. She ate her last bite of food, barely able to swallow past the lump in her throat.
“Village bad,” Iya said. “They not nice.”
Before Erik could speak, Anna declared, “If they take us, we stay.”
Erik looked toward the cliffs and dumped the remainder of his meal into the fire. As if to convince himself more than anyone, he said, “Yeah, I’m sure everything will work out fine. Just wait and see.”
The following morning, Innokenti approached the camp.
Anna stood with Iya tucked close to her. Her heart drummed hard in her chest, and she forced herself to slow her breathing. Hands clenched, back stiff, she waited.
Erik looked calm as he stood and greeted the native man.
Innokenti took Erik’s hand briefly, then said curtly, “We think on your offer. We take woman and child, if you give food. And the skin.”
Anna slowly let out her breath. So it is to be. She forced back tears of alarm. Do not be foolish. You knew this is how it would end.
Half-heartedly, Erik answered, “Okay. The seal is over there.” He pointed toward the drying meat. “And you can take the hide.”
Innokenti instructed his men to carry all they could back to the village.
As Anna watched the men gather the unexpected bounty, her dread grew. It was true. They would stay—Erik would go.
She looked at him, longing to plead that he take them wherever he was going. She could not. Instead, careful to keep her eyes averted, she said in a quiet, controlled voice, “Thank you for help.”
Erik nodded stiffly.
Iya seemed to finally grasp what was happening and ran to her new friend. Crying, she hugged Erik tightly about the waist. “You leave?”
Erik closed his arms about the little girl and held her tightly.
She clung to him and between sobs said, “Do not go. Do not go.”
Erik knelt in front of her and, cupping her face in his hands, used his thumbs to wipe the tears from Iya’s face. As if unable to find his voice for a minute, he looked at her. “I have to leave.” He gazed at her a moment longer, as if trying to imprint her image in his mind, then he glanced at Anna. Without another word, he pushed Iya from him and loaded his supplies into the boat. He did not look back.
Anna pulled Iya close to her side.
He pushed the umiak into the surf.
Iya sniffled and wiped at her runny nose while tears rolled down her cheeks.
Anna stared after him and blinked back her own tears. She rubbed a finger over the smooth surface of the walrus tooth that hung about her neck, remembering the day Erik had given it to her. Taking Iya’s hand firmly in her own, she followed the men away from the beach.