by Maureen M. Welch
A spray from the sprinkler system of Sitka’s municipal building woke Janette from an erotic daydream. She jumped from the bench, grazing a wall of sun-drenched, flowering bushes—the spray’s intended target. Janette was hiding from her Alaskan cruise companions who were shopping the tourist circuit. She needed brain room away from her dearest friends: she needed to process an image from this trip that was flooding her imagination. As a professional photographer and travel writer, Janette was accustomed to pictures abiding within her interior self. But an image of a woman she encountered only yesterday? So intense, it crowded out all other photos in her Nikon Z7ll from these Alaskan travels: breeching whales, calving glaciers, islands of standing eagles.
When Edith, Trudy and Gail suggested the getaway as a cure for Janette’s widowhood, she went along, more to appease them than keep explaining that grieving mostly ended at her beloved Landers’ death. Before his long illness and death from pancreatic cancer two years before, their happy lives were spent with these three best friends and husbands: Paul, Mike, and Trevor. The tight group of four couples navigated life together for eighteen years through births, anniversaries, graduations, struggles, parent’s funerals, business reversals, occasional affairs, temporary separations, and multiple celebrations. Florida’s housing boom provided Trevor and Gail’s construction business enough success for them to buy a sailboat that accommodated the group’s get-togethers and trips. They fancied themselves a loyal band of pirates along a strip of Atlantic coast favored by raiders of old. It was Landers who suggested, since their friendship was golden, a fitting name for the boat could be “Pieces of Eight.” They sailed into the future with vigor.
Janette’s reverie was interrupted by a licking sound on her boot.
“Well, hello, boy, what a nice surprise! Did you come by to visit me?” Janette said to a brindle mixed-breed dog, wagging his tail and now licking her hands. She buried her face in his soft coat.
“Hey, who’s your buddy?” Trudy yelled as she ran across the street to join them. “He looks like he could run the Iditarod all by himself. What kind of dog is this?”
“No idea, Lab mix with some huge Alaskan breed, I guess. Sweet mix, whatever.”
Trudy was on bended knee, getting her face licked. “Hey, I recognize him. He’s the mascot for some pub I saw. He sits in a little shelter outside the restaurant with a name on the roof that says Paddy.”
“Oh, Trudy you think all lovely boys are Irish,” said Gail as she plopped down on the next bench, piling all her packages alongside her.
Edith followed but remained standing, gripping her canvas shopping bag of small parcels while scrutinizing the scene. She faced Janette, “You can pet a dog in Florida, why did you not come with us?”
“I wanted to pet an Alaskan dog,” Janette said, “Maybe Landers sent him as a messenger of good cheer.”
Janette knew full well that this kind of talk was exactly what made psychologist Edith bristle.
“Yes!” Trudy agreed, flashing her irresistible smile.
“That man loved his dogs, that’s for sure,” added Gail.
Edith checked her wristwatch. “You said you’d meet us for lunch, Janette. It seems time. Anybody suggest a place?”
Janette started photographing the dog from different angles. She bent and kissed him on the top of his head. “Thank you, Paddy Boy, hope we meet again. Bye, bye.” Paddy loped off.
The group oohed and aahed over the golden-red topaz that Gail bought from a Russian jewelry merchant’s store on the square.
“Your real birthstone, Gail, you always thought you’d have to go to Russia to find it. It’s lovely,” Janette said. Soon, she drifted off above the chatter, thinking of how she first came to see the face of the woman from yesterday, a face now haunting her.
After returning from yesterday’s bus tour of a totem village, Janette remembered being drawn to the lines of an unusual glass structure in the downtown. The unique design, like everything else she was discovering in this part of the country, probably had ancient and significant meaning. She was photographing it from different angles before she realized that a tall woman with intense brown eyes was smiling at her from inside the building. Janette felt an emotional flutter. Turning away to regain composure, her camera strap caught on the metal letters of a brick curve in the building. The letters spelled Public Library. She glanced again at the smiling Amazonian figure, and saw the woman had a ricrac ribbon tattoo down the side of her face. The tattoo’s color matched the liquid of the Windex bottle she was holding. The tattooed worker washed the glass walls and door to the library without interruption. Janette wondered how this tall, fair, redhead came to be in a town of Russians and Huna T’lingit residents.
Careful not to smudge anything, Janette entered the library to eliminate the glass wall between them. “Hi, does the library have a gift shop or sell flags of Alaska? I want to get one for my grandson.” Janette flushed, immediately regretting that she had to establish herself as a married woman.
The beautiful window cleaner smiled. “Not sure, I’m a volunteer. There’s not a library gift shop, but you could ask at the information desk if they have sale items.”
A loud rap on the glass door shattered the moment. Impatient Edith was smearing fingerprints over the entrance’s surface.
“Mary Janette, what are you doing? You’re holding up the group. How many photos do you need? C’mon, the girls are starving, and Trudy has been looking all over for you,” Edith said, with a hint of complaint in her voice as the foursome’s self-appointed tour director.
Janette scowled at Edith. She exited the doors, wiping away Edith’s thoughtlessness with her gloves. She turned once more to the smiling woman, relaxed her face and waved a timid goodbye.
Janette’s scowl returned as she followed Edith’s strides. It irritated her that Edith had to take over everything. It was particularly wearing in the close quarters of the ship. She quickly picked Gail as her roommate before Edith decided for everyone.
Trudy and Gail were casually examining an ancient canoe in the town square. Not exactly the impatient two that Edith portrayed. Another disingenuous interpretation, and from such a prominent therapist, “with two degrees” as Edith would remind. It likewise irked Janette when Edith called her by her grade school name. Even though they were schoolmates, only her beloved husband, Landers, called her by that family name, a piece of information Edith knew and used to her advantage. Lately, Edith assumed a prerogative to engineer Janette’s life. Janette suspected Edith was the driving force behind this cruise extravaganza, leaving husbands and families back in Florida to go help their poor Janette recover from Landers’ death. The trip was described as a launch into a new life, whatever that meant.
Landers was seriously incapacitated with his illness years before his death, now already two years ago. Janette (and Landers at times) read all the books, attended support groups, and leaned on the wise hospice counselor at the end for all the rough decisions. She knew Edith resented that Janette did not rely on her for therapeutic decision making. It was deliberate on both Janette and Landers’ part; it never would have worked anyway. It was not working now.
At the end of the day’s activities and wonderful meals of salmon and halibut, Janette was glad to enjoy the privacy of a single bedroom in their booked Bed and Breakfast. As was her custom, she reviewed her photos of the day. When she came to the glass library, she realized how many pictures she had taken, especially of its star volunteer. Forty minutes seemed to fly by as she pored over the shots. She enlarged several of the window-washer. When rotating a particular one on its horizontal side, Janette he made a stunning discovery. The facial tattoo was not a stylistic ribbon design: it was an electric blue rendition of the glaciers in the Baranof Icefields! Janette sat upright in bed. Who wears a tattoo on one’s face of the place where you live? Who has their home etched on them indelibly, permanently, for all to see? What kind of person does this? The blue emanation was the color only glaciers produce, as the cruise ship’s naturalist guide explained, by short wavelengths of blue in white light and ice. Has the vastness, the painful beauty of this land forged such boldness in this woman…or something else?
Janette turned out the light and closed her eyes. She now saw her Arctic Amazon in her dreams with more definition, clarity, and wholeness. The dreams took on a kind of serenity. She fell into a sound sleep.
The next day’s post-breakfast activities included a museum tour of the region’s first peoples and its first foreign settlers. All four women, renewed by the pleasant night’s sleep, were eager to set out early to visit the museum. Even Edith seemed softened by good rest.
“I’ve been looking forward to experiencing this place since I first read about it,” said Edith.
“Me, too, I’m going to cut out of line, if that’s okay with everyone…to check about their policy for taking photographs,” Janette said.
Once they arrived in the complex, they had to wait for the facility to open. Few other visitors arrived this early. Janette got permission to take photographs of the exhibits, even of old family photos. She took care to credit the original photographers, according to professional standards. Edith began reading every plaque and Trudy talked with the guides. For about a half-hour, the Florida female pirates had the place to themselves. The museum featured dwelling sites of beginning cultures: their art, tools, totems they carved and hoisted, a canoe the width of the building, and treasured accounts passed down through oral tradition to local descendants. Outside in the lobby’s long hall were glass cases of ballerina costumes and beaded garments of the first Russian settlers, including ancient icons on loan from the Christian Orthodox church in town. A hall easel advertised folkloric dance performances for that evening at 8:00 p.m.
“Psst! Jan, come out in the hallway. Did you see the costumes in the cases? Look at these incredible jewels! Tiffany, eat your heart out,” Gail said.
Both women were dazzled as they passed glass enclosures and cases of bejeweled dance costumes, headpieces and costumes of days gone by. They approached an open door which led to a small but lavish, red velveted nineteenth-century theater. The two women were drawn inside. They sat in an unlit section of back seats while the small orchestra rehearsed. Janette discreetly attempted to take photos of the balconies and curtained stage, filled with people moving equipment and ladders. She adjusted the lenses for a closer look and was astonished to see a tall, redhaired woman talking to a man holding a ladder. She focused on the woman’s profile which revealed a neon blue marking. Janette gasped out loud.
“What’s wrong, honey?” Gail whispered, “You didn’t see a dancer, did you? A vision of loveliness?”
Janette couldn’t stop watching. At the conclusion of the music, Gail leaned over.
“We better get back to the group before mother hen comes looking.”
Janette reluctantly followed Gail out of the theater. As she entered the hall, she felt a draft and looked toward an exit door, closing on a tall redhead wearing a leather backpack. Janette felt pulled toward the door, though it seemed impossible she could catch up.
Gail studied her friend’s face. “What is it? Something? Someone?”
“I guess I did see a vision of loveliness. Yes, a remarkable someone,” Janette said.
Both women smiled at each other. Gail took her friend’s arm and they returned to the museum and the complex’s main entrance.
The group walked outside to another welcoming day of sun and flowers. Maps and attraction folders in hand, they confirmed that this was a free day, for each to individually pursue what they wanted as their last full day in Sitka. By late morning tomorrow, the cruise ship opened re-boarding before early afternoon departure for the rest of the stops along the Inland Passage. The group agreed to reconvene at Happy Hour at their favorite wine bar. Edith quickly headed to the historic church. Gail walked a nature trail that led to the business district. And Janette hung back, tugging on Trudy’s sweater, feigning study of Trudy’s map.
“Trudy, do you remember where the public library is?” Janette said in a low voice, “Where you found me the other day? Remember the outside canoe, the replica? The library is close to that.”
“Oh, yeah, I know it’s not far, but am turned around on direction. Let me see if it’s on the map,” Trudy said. “Here it is, this way.” Trudy pointed north. “I can walk you there…”
“No, no, this is your free time—just for you. I’ll find it, Trudy. Just want to check on something. Thanks. See you at the Emerald.”
Janette rushed in a northerly direction, not realizing she was running. Finally, she saw transparent angles in the distance, shimmering in the noonday light. She arrived breathless and leaned on the outer curve of the brick wall before approaching the glossy door. She was smiling as she turned the corner and turned in a full circle to look around. The library held nothing but elders reading books, students on computers, kids on beanbags listening to stories, and librarian pushing carts to restock the countless books. Not a tall, tattooed redhead in sight.
Janette walked purposefully back to town to accomplish the business of her free day. She pulled out the list she compiled of today’s tasks. She headed to the harbor with her head down, unaware that someone was calling her. When she looked up, she saw her Arctic Amazon with the captivating smile, talking to her from across the main street. She only heard her voice, above the cars, above the tourists on small sightseeing excursions, above the disorienting confusion of this bustling place.
“There’s a store a few yards up on your side of the street that may sell flags of Alaska,” the woman said, standing in the light of her smile.
Janette could only stare and nod her head. Janette heard this woman’s voice above the road noise. She experienced her as a chimera.
The woman now seemed to smile coyly at Janette. “And that store has really good fudge.”
With that, the tall woman turned and walked down the hill adjacent to the harbor just as the traffic light turned. Immediately, the two-lane highway filled with speeding delivery trucks, passenger cars, and tour buses that obscured any sight on the other side of the road. Janette’s dream state crashed, and she could not move.
At the next red light, Janette ran across the street to see a curved road at the foot of the long hill that her woman traveled. She got out pen and paper and wrote down the name of the street, then quickly proceeded down the hill of harbor road where her cruise ship was docked.
Having concluded her business with ship’s staff, Janette returned to the Bed and Breakfast to make reservations and tie up loose ends of her grand plan. She took a power nap, then changed into a loose, warm sweater and jeans to meet her friends at the Emerald Wine Bar.
Everyone was excited to report on their afternoon’s choices, and hungrily ordered enough appetizers for themselves and their fond-but-absent husbands. Wine and drinks were mounting on the bar tab, which Janette had pre-arranged with their server to pay. Their joy and volume increased until they decided as a group, that they had had food enough with one more round. Early bed sounded inviting. Janette said she had the bill covered as a kind of temporary farewell. Edith, Trudy and Gail paused and put down their glasses in unison.
“Farewell to Sitka?” Trudy said.
Gail grimaced, “You’re not going home, are you kid?”
“Janette, if this is some kind of joke, I don’t get it.” Edith proclaimed with volume.
“No, none of the above. Our aim on this trip was to launch our new selves. And I think we are all doing that. My new self wants to stay here for a while and create something new. I’ve arranged with the ship’s officials to stay on in Sitka for a while.”
“How can you do this?” demanded Edith.
“Visitors from cruise ships do it all the time. They stay in a place and catch up with the ship at another destination along the Inland Passage. This way I can get all the photographs I need for an exhibit, while having some time alone in a new world. I’ve already sent back some work to my colleagues to start assembling for a show. I will always be able to catch up with you by sea plane or a small boat, or maybe I’ll just stay here a while. I’ve taken care of all the official requirements. I’ve signed the papers, am having the luggage delivered tomorrow to the B&B where I’ve extended my stay. I’ve assured the captain and am assuring you that I will stay in communication about my travel plans.”
“Well, our little artist has been extremely busy and focused, I must say. I need a bath and bed. Goodnight, I’ll see you two in the morning,” Edith said, seeming to have quickly sobered up by the evening’s surprise.
Trudy’s eyes filled up, more from the tequilas than the moment. “You’re coming back to Florida though, right?”
“Of course, dear heart, nothing can separate the Florida pirates,” Janette said as she hugged Trudy, the best nurse she ever knew.
Gail took Trudy’s arm. “Let’s head back, girls.” She leaned into Janette. “You really didn’t have to pick up the bill. You’re going to need more money now. Budget yourself, Hon.”
The waitress slipped Janette her credit card back as the trio left the Emerald, holding each other up as they walked.
Later that night, after Janette took a shower, she heard a small knock on her door. Trudy stood in the doorway looking like a blond Raggedy Ann in her red checked nightgown and blue bunny slippers. A silly smile on her face.
“I’m proud you are doing this, Jan. We will always be together, really, no matter where we are. I love you and support your decision. Stay in touch, right? We’ll take care of Edith. Don’t worry. Night, Pirate-ess.” Trudy yawned.
“I know you’ll take care of them, as you have for me for so long. Love you, too.”
Trudy turned to go as Gail opened her door from her room across the hall. She stepped out of her doorway, in pink satin loungewear.
“Gail, you look like a movie star! No wonder Trevor shows you off to all his business cohorts, not in that outfit, of course,” Janette said.
“I don’t know. I do it for him, but I don’t know if he notices. I feel like we’re drifting apart. Money can’t buy happiness; it doesn’t for us.”
“Trevor adores you. He’s dealing with being a man—with grey hair and retirement looming! If money stands in the way, put your heads together and try something different. Give it away. Start a foundation. See what that does for your togetherness.”
Gail laughed. “You know, I’ve always wanted to start an animal rescue. I do love dogs, so does Trev. You follow your own star too, baby. Give me a hug before I start bawling like Trudy.”
Janette closed her door and searched through her developed photos for the two she wanted to get lost in before she fell asleep. She found the two in a plastic folder when a firm knock rattled the door.
“Come in, Edith.”
Edith’s red face and swollen eyes betrayed her prepared speech.
“What’s wrong with you?! You are throwing your life away for what? A window-cleaner who is a total stranger, and a WOMAN! I saw the way you looked at her. You are decompensating because of unresolved grief. If you were in therapy as I urged you to do two years ago—two years—you wouldn’t have turned into the heap of crazy you are now. Must I shout it from the rooftops, ‘You are still grieving!’”
“My old and dear friend, I thank you profoundly for your constant concern, especially these last few years. Dear Edith, be assured that I am grateful for your support during my loss. And I want to support you in yours. The grieving that eats at you, angers you, and won’t let you go is the loss of your sister. Even more painful because she is not dead! She is condemned to a death by you because you won’t speak to her. Ellen is alive, has two children who share your blood, and she is only a day’s drive away from our hometown. Go to her. Speak to her.”
Edith stepped back against the wall, weary, tears flowing now. “Nice tactic, deflecting from you to me.” She slid onto a chair.
“Where would I ever start? I’m exhausted from rehashing in my mind…” Edith’s voice drifted off.
“Start by saying hello. Bring her flowers, which we know she loves. Bring toys for her kids,” Janette said. “Didn’t you want this trip to be a new beginning? Do it. Think how Paul would love to be a doting uncle. Think how it would be to start peace.”
Edith wordlessly let her childhood friend embrace her for a full two minutes.
“It’s just that I’m worried about you,” Edith said. “You’re just following a feeling.”
“We both are, and we can help each other while we do it.”
Edith wordlessly moved away, gently closing the door behind her.
When Janette looked back at the bed, she immediately saw the two photos she searched for come into focus: one was four women at the top deck of a cruise ship posing for their folks back home, the other was a woman’s profile ennobled by a serene and sensual tattoo. After tomorrow’s ship departure and farewells, Janette planned a walk to Sitka’s glass palace where she would request an out-of-state library card.