Shinnecock Voices: Summer in the North - Part One

Feb. 21 is my birthday. Martin carries a cake, with Laurie behind him, walking through the dimly lit hall from the kitchen and into the small area I call my dining room. The round table in the center that was bare the night before was now adorned with a lace tablecloth and new candlesticks. Only three place settings were left at the far end of the table. No one else would be joining us, just my son Martin, and my nurse Laurie.

Laurie began singing the birthday song as Martin slowly placed the cake down at the setting in front of me. No candles stick out from the cake. No writing in icing of well wishes for the year to come, just a simple set of flowers, forget-me-nots. The bright piping lay atop pearly white marzipan. The cake’s colors and design match the well worn slippers on my feet.

Picking up the knife with my once strong, now weak and arthritic hand, the candlelight catches on the gem in my wedding ring and I’m lost for a moment. My mind taking me back to the summer of my 18th birthday.

Relief washed over me when I stepped into the airport in Fairbanks. There were only two floors in the small airport, and it was practically deserted in comparison to the airports I’d just arrived from. The first floor had a wall of windows that looked  out over some small ponds and lakes.The flight tracker read that the next flight to Tanana was only an hour long, and I hoped to finally get some rest after traveling 3,000 miles from home.

Before leaving, my mother tried to reassure me about the long trip I’d be making, “You’re going to stay with some great old friends of mine! You’ve met Allan, before Ronnie, his family are good people. They’ll take care of my baby.”

My mother later tried to explain to me that I was going to expand my knowledge of all our relatives, not just our eastern homelands. To me, going this far away seemed a little unnecessary, especially since I’d be alone and missing out on spending my birthday with my friends and family here. A tradition I’ve loved and looked forward to each year.

Walking the tarmac to the small passenger plane waiting, the sun reflected off of the metal wings and into my eyes, making me miss a step as I climbed the plane’s stairs. The pilot was a local man from Tanana, he introduced himself as Captain Clinton. Putting on his headphones he turned around in his seat to face me yelling, “I make this trip 3 times a day, I’m like a taxi man like you New Yorkers have down there!

His voice was muffled over the growling of the engine. “I’m not from the city,” trying to shout back but Captain Clinton had already turned back around and didn’t seem to hear me. I looked back out the window as we took off, taking in the Alaskan terrain. I saw the deep green of thousands of evergreen trees down below. Red and black birds were flying around level to our small plane. The clouds surrounding the mountains were erupting fluffy mounds on top, but the high altitude made the bottom appear flat as though they were sitting atop a sheet of glass preventing them from falling to the ground. The site began to make me dizzy. I shut the blind, closed my eyes and rested my head against the window.

It wasn’t before long, Captain Clinton announced that we were descending into the Ralph Calhoun Memorial Airport. Opening my eyes, I could see the small landing strip and a few small planes docked along the side. A large moose and her calf had been wandering down below in a small clearing close to the tarmac.

On the road leading to the airport, Allan was waiting for me next to his red and white Bronco. Climbing out of the plane I could see clearly the face of the man who had stayed with my family when I was little for our pow wow back home. His friendly smile made my nerves about my stay begin to settle.

“Hey, kiddo! Long time, no see! What a beautiful young lady you’ve become since I last saw you.” Allan pulled me into a huge embrace, one that lifted me off the ground. Putting me back down, he snatched up my bags in one movement and loaded them into the Bronco.

“You’ll finally get to meet my wife, Sarah and our son Simon, they can’t wait to meet you!”

“Oh right, my mom said Simon was around my age too.”

“That’s right. I’m sure you both will get along.” I smiled in response, thankful that I might be able to talk to someone my own age.

“My brother and Sarah’s mom are living with us now too, so it’ll be nice to have a full house again, at least for the summer,” Allan said as we drove down a road lined with tall birch and evergreens. I smile in response as we make a right and pull onto a dirt road.

Driving further down the road, the trees opened up to a clearing, and a fence started to outline a huge yard filled with dogs. The barking dogs trailed the truck along the fence as we made our way down the road. One dog, a young all black female caught my eye as Allan parked the car and we climbed out. Allan saw me staring at her and told me her name was Capri and she was 8 months old.

Pulling my bags out from the back of the Bronco, Allan said, “we haven’t gotten her trained enough for the sled but hopefully this summer she’ll show her stuff in the field trails and get her ready for the first big snow.”

“I’m sure she’ll make a great addition,” I responded as I turned to face the house. It was a surprisingly large home, I thought, considering it was made of logs and by hand. It had a green metal lined roof that allowed it to blend into the woods behind it. There was a narrow walkway, lined with flowers leading to a small green deck and a white front door. Walking up the path, the smell of cooking fish filled my nostrils coming from a small plume of smoke at the back of the house.

“What’s smoking back there?’ I asked, nodding my head into the direction of the smoke, hoping it was a meal I was longing for.

“It’s rainbow trout, have you ever had it?” Allan asked, pausing to look at me.

“No, I’ve never had any trout, but is it like snapper or bass? I’ve had that back at home.”

“It’s more like salmon, and we cook our fish a little differently up here.” He said with a wink as he opened the front door. Inside, four people were waiting at the kitchen table.

“Everybody, this is Sharon–” Allan began.

“Please,” I interrupted, “can you call me Ronnie? My mom is the only one who calls me Sharon, and usually when I’m in trouble,” I laughed.

“Okay, Ronnie it is. This is Sarah,” gesturing to a petite woman with salt and pepper hair and warm brown eyes. Coming over, she embraced me in a warm and motherly hug, that made me relax my tense shoulders.

Smiling, Allan continued, “this is Grandma Sadzi.” Grandma Sadzi was sitting down in a cushioned wooden chair between Sarah and an older man. I approached her, kissed her cheek and took her hand, thanking her for letting me stay with her family this summer. Then the man next to her extended his hand and said, “I’m Evon, Allan’s brother. And this is my nephew, Simon.”

I turned to Simon, who stood almost a foot taller than me. He held out his hand and gave me a firmer handshake than I expected, and stared at me a little longer than I was comfortable with. After that, Allan directed Simon to show me to the room I’d be staying in. Climbing the stairs to the next floor of the house, we stop at the first bedroom at the top of the stairs. Entering the bedroom, it was clear that it used to belong to someone else.

“It was my sister, Grace’s room, before she left,” Simon explained.

The shelves were covered with worn books, with one part of the wall bare, but you could make out where pictures had once been pinned there, leaving behind sun-bleached paint.

After putting my things away and getting cleaned up a bit, Allan had called up saying dinner was ready. Returning to the table, the smell of dinner made my stomach gurgle with hunger. In the center of the table was a large steaming pot of stew. Grandma Sadzi sat down first, initiating the rest of us to sit as well. Grandma Sadzi lifted the ladle out of the pot and you could see mushrooms, greens and white meat overflow out of it as she filled each bowl. It smelled delicious and tasted equally so. The bird was very delicate and came apart easily in the broth, and tasted like nothing I had ever had before. When it came time for the smoked trout, the brine and flavor put on it was so sweet and savory it was practically a dessert. The evening was packed with questions from everyone on our very different lifestyles. Topics from the weather and climate, comparison of beaches, and the paces of each coastline.

Heading up to the bedroom, the windows in the stairwell gave an eastern view of the sky that still had deep yellow and orange weaving through the clouds. Going into the bedroom, I walked to the two sets of windows to shut the blackout shades. As I closed the last set of shades, I noticed an engraving of ‘S.G.S’ on the window sill. I ran my hand over it, feeling the indentations in the wood. I thought not just about Grace, the girl whose presence was in this room with me, but also about my friends back at home, and about how different my life would be this summer. I let the last bit of shade fall, and climbed into the flannel sheet covered bed. I fell asleep feeling both full of food and anticipation about the weeks ahead.

Summer in the North – Part Two will continue in a later publication. To learn more about the inspiration behind the short story or the author, Charlotte ‘Charlie’ Roe, reach out to ndnimpact@gmail.com.