The trouble was, she had a sinking feeling she wasn’t going to be able to leave out the personal angle anytime soon. Kate Shugak’s life’s work was spent searching for truth, and it was therefore folly for her to ignore a home truth staring her in the face. Something was going on between her and the big trooper. She didn’t know what, exactly, and she didn’t know if it was bad or good, but it was past time she admitted it was there.
She followed the white Chevy Crew Cab up the hill and parked behind it. They walked across the road and looked at the site, which to his faint surprise showed signs of industry in the form of a completed cinder block foundation. “All you need is some lumber and the framers,” Kate said, “and you’ll have yourself a post.” She looked at him. “Know where you’re going to live yet?”
“Figured I’d build.”
“Got your eye on some land?”
“I talked to Billy, and Ruthe. She says she might carve off a slice along the river edge of John Letourneau’s place for me. So long as it reverts back to the Kanuyaq Land Trust upon my death.”
Kate grinned. “I love Ruthe Bauman. You always know where you stand with Ruthe.”
“Yeah, dead last,” he said, laughing a little. “Way behind the land, that’s for damn sure.”
“You going to do it?”
He shrugged. “It’s a prime piece of land, great view, all cleared and ready. It’d amount to taking out a lifetime lease, with no buildup of equity. But hell, I’ll have all I need on retirement. Yeah, I’ll probably take her up on it.” His eyes glinted. “Build me a comfy little house where I can entertain.”
“Or not,” she said.
“Not an option,” he said, and smiled.
“What?” she said.
The smile widened. She’d never trusted that grin; it always made her think of the first pass of gray fins in deep blue water.
“What?” she said again.
“This dance we do,” he said. “See Kate. See Kate run. See Jim chase Kate. We going to get tired of this anytime soon?”
It was kind of silly, now she came to think of it. “Habit, I guess,” she said.
“My problem is I’m competing with a ghost,” Jim said.
She stiffened. “I beg your pardon?”
“It’s true,” he said, almost in despair, or as close to it as proper macho feeling would permit. “Tell me something. Isn’t there one thing Jack did that drove you insane? Did he flush spit between his teeth instead of floss? Did he fart in public? Did he sing outside the shower? Anything?”
She thought about it, really hard, for a few moments. Finally, she said, “He couldn’t drive a stick shift.”
“What?”
“He couldn’t drive a stick shift to save his life,” she said. “First gear, we’d jerk down the street like the car had Parkinson’s.”
Jim started to smile.
“Second gear, the jolt would throw me against the seat belt so hard I’d bruise my breastbone. Getting into third was a little easier, although he always went there before he had enough revs and we’d slow way down and everybody in back of us would honk. And he never, not once did he ever find reverse on the first try.”
Jim was grinning now.
It was odd, but she had the feeling that Jack was grinning right along with him. Kate was not usually a creature of impulse, but then she’d hate to be called predictable, either. She stepped forward and was pleased to see that the shark’s grin had faded. “What?” he said, not without apprehension.
She stood on tiptoe and slid a hand around his neck, enjoying the surprise in his eyes. With her other hand she pulled off his cap and tossed it behind her. “Shut up and kiss me,” she said.
He did, to such purpose that neither of them heard the vehicle pull to a stop behind them.
“Excuse me,” Billy Mike said apologetically, “but really, guys. You might want to take it indoors.”
They looked over his shoulder and found the entire staff of the Niniltna Native Association crowded into Billy’s Ford Explorer, faces peering inquisitively out the windows. Auntie Joy even waved.
Monday, May 12
The RV’s okay, I guess. It’s got a shower, but since the pump burned down with the cabin we have to haul water up from the creek. I never want a shower that bad, but Kate’s awful picky that way. Man.
The RV isn’t level, either. I’m sleeping in the bunk over the steering wheel and this morning I woke up mashed against the far wall. All you have to do is inhale and the whole thing shakes.
But it’s got a roof. Plus it’s free.
I don’t know if Kate has enough money to build a new cabin. I know Dad had an insurance policy and I was the beneficiary, but Kate would never let a dime of that go for anything here. I bet we could sell the town house in Anchorage and use that money for anything we wanted here, but she won’t touch that, either. And I’m not even going to college. Man. Women.
As long as I live I will never forget Kate facing down Mom across that table. Kate is-she’s-I don’t know how to describe her. I remember Dad said once, “Trust me, kid, it’s always better to have Kate Shugak on your side than on somebody else’s.” Boy, was he right. She always knows the right thing to do, and then she does it. How many people are like that? She even scares me sometimes, she’s so fearless. And smart. And beautiful.
Jim Chopin thinks so, too. I can’t tell if she likes him, too, or not. I hope not. He’s not good enough for her. Nobody is.
There are a bunch of snowshoe hares living on the other side of the creek behind the big stand of cottonwoods. Lepus americanus, according to the ADF &G Wildlife Notebook. They can grow up to twenty inches long and get as big as four pounds. I was up early this morning (Kate was tossing and turning and the whole RV was shaking so I couldn’t sleep) and I went outside to write in my journal and I could see them from where I was sitting on the rock. There’s an open space that is kind of sandy and they were running around and into each other and chasing each other and I think their tails. This afternoon after school I went to Dinah’s and looked them up on the Internet and the notebook says they’re most active at dusk and dawn. I’ll say. If Mutt had been there she wouldn’t have to eat again for weeks. The Wildlife Notebook says that the hare is a primary food source of the lynx. Man, I’d love to see a lynx. It also says that the hare competes with the moose for forage. I’d love to see a snowshoe hare go up against a moose for a willow twig, too.
I told Kate about how crazy they were acting and I asked her if they maybe had hydrophobia or something. She laughed and said no. I think she’s spent a lot of time on that rock herself, watching the bunny rabbits go berserk.
Only two more weeks of school. Yay. I asked Van if she could remember anything more about Len Dreyer but she clammed up on me. I wonder if Kate missed something up at his cabin. We’ve been finding stuff around here that didn’t burn all the way up, even some books that were in the loft and only smell like smoke, you can still read them and everything.
Somebody ought to go look.
15
It was a big RV, a Winnebago, with a bunk over the cab and a double bed in back. There was a toilet, sink, and shower in the bathroom, a refrigerator beneath the counter, a propane stove, a small sink with running water, and a fixed table between two padded booths that would let down into a third bed if they needed it.
That was the good news. The bad news was that the window next to the table looked out on the charred ruin that had been her cabin.