One
I lifted my face to the cool wind and breathed in the crisp air. Contentedness washed through me. The calm wasn’t completely unfamiliar, but it had been rare over the last year. Something inside me whispered: This is the life, Beth. Enjoy every second of it.
I hoped I’d never again take such things for granted.
A year into my escape to Alaska, I was finally on a boat, on my way to see one of the sights that were the reason most people ventured to this part of the world—glaciers.
A year ago, I checked myself out of a hospital in St. Louis and ran away to Benedict, Alaska, gateway and launching point to one of the true wonders of the world. I’d been hesitant to take the tour, having been warned by an acquaintance, Ruke, to stay off the water. Back then, I’d figured that even the big tour boats should be off-limits.
Ruke’s intuition had been telling him a different story recently. He’d shared with me that he didn’t sense I was in any danger at all, particularly aboard one of the big ships. He did suggest I might not want to kayak in Glacier Bay if I’d never kayaked before, but that was practical advice. I hadn’t ever been in a kayak or canoe, and I had no plans to do so any time soon. When it came to boats in the bay, both Ruke and I had concluded that bigger was probably always better.
The mid-July weather was unseasonably warm. While seventy degrees wasn’t unheard of, seventy-five was rare. It had hit seventy-six today, though the local temperature was always described using Celsius—It is almost 24 degrees, can you believe it! I’d asked why Benedict residents didn’t use Fahrenheit like lower forty-eight residents, but no one had known the answer, some folks shrugging and commenting, “It’s just the way it is.”
Not only was the higher temperature a rare treat, but it was sunny today, too. Benedict and Glacier Bay saw clouds and some sort of rain most days, July included. If it was going to rain today, though, the clouds that would bring the precipitation were still out of sight. The sun’s rays were warm and made me smile.
Tex laughed as he stood next to me. “Feels good, huh?”
“It does.” I shaded my eyes with my hand and looked up at my tall, broad “man-friend,” a title he’d given himself. Most of his self-descriptors were laced with some humor, and it was easy to play along. I continued, “I can’t believe you’ve never done this, either.”
“I must admit, this way of seeing the glaciers is much easier than the hikes from the other side, and I’ve done those a time or two.” He looked behind us and into the enclosed area of the ship. “And here there are snacks that I didn’t have to pack and carry along. Can I get you a coffee?”
“Yes, please.”
“Be right back.” Tex turned to make his way to the comfortably stocked snack bar inside the warm and well-protected seating area.
The tour boat was not far behind a cruise ship. I’d seen a few of those ahead of us, and a couple headed back the other direction off our port side. The bay was wide enough, and the ships all moved at a consistent enough pace to not worry about crashes or getting in each other’s way. The ingress and egress patterns were obvious. However, there were things other than glaciers to see along the way. Snowcapped mountains filled the distant landscape, but it was the islands in the bay that surprised me the most. Those of us paying attention had been gifted with the sight of a mama grizzly and her two cubs running along the shore of the first one we’d passed by.
Tex had explained that the islands weren’t off-limits to anyone. People did take kayaks and canoes to many of them. They hiked the islands and even camped there. I wasn’t quite ready to consider a walkabout and campout with the wildlife, but maybe someday.
When I’d first moved to Benedict and asked what sorts of wildlife I might run into, I was simply told all of it. I’d had my fair share of run-ins with bears, moose, porcupines, even some fish that were big enough to seem too wild for this giant catfish fisherwoman from Missouri. The big boat’s deck was about as close as I needed to get to any of the islands.
With a jolt, as I was surveying an island overflowing with birds, the ship took a sharp, right veer. I gasped and grabbed the railing in reflex. Before I understood what had caused the change in trajectory, the noise of a siren filled the air.
“What in the world?” I looked around but couldn’t spot any immediate danger. It didn’t appear that we were about to run into anything or be run aground. I had no sense that we could be sinking—I certainly hoped not. I scanned the nearby landmasses, the other visible islands, but didn’t immediately spot anything that might be cause for trouble.
“Beth, you okay?” Tex, still empty-handed, came up beside me again, raising his voice above the siren’s din. He hadn’t made it to the coffee bar yet.
Though the annoying noise continued to wail, the ship regained a smooth course, seeming to head straight for an island that had come into view—not the one with birds nor the one with the frolicking grizzlies but one covered with green trees and what appeared to be forested mounds of earth taking up the southerly half.
“I’m good.” I glanced at him. He was fine, too. “What’s going on?”
“Not sure.”
We both looked toward the island’s shore. Mercifully, the siren ceased—just as we, and probably everyone else who’d come out to the deck, saw what must have garnered the captain’s attention.
Standing on the shore was a woman. She was distraught, maybe in her thirties, her body language begging for help. She was also covered in blood.
“Damn,” I heard Tex utter. “I’m going to see if I can do anything to help. Stay aboard the boat, Beth. You don’t know these waters. Just stay here. Don’t leave.”
I nodded as he hurried away. I wouldn’t leave the boat, but I did make my way, again with everyone else who’d come out onto the deck, to the bow. A tinny voice came from a speaker that had been secured onto a pole with a rope.
“This is your captain, Horace Moorehouse, speaking. As you might have noticed, we need to make an assist here. Folks, this happens. It appears that our rescue is standing upright, so we just need to get her aboard and make sure she’s taken care of. Please stay out of our way—remain on the main deck as we get to her. As I know you’ve heard, it’s rough country out here. Accidents happen. We’ll take care of her. Please, everyone, remain calm, and … out of our way.”
No one appeared panicked, but concern rumbled through the growing group of onlookers. The blood-covered woman was a terrifying sight to behold, but the captain was correct, she was upright, which was definitely good news.
I squinted toward the shore as we approached, wondering if I knew her or had seen her around, but it was more likely that she was a tourist who’d found herself in some trouble.
She didn’t seem to be badly hurt, which was even better news. In fact, despite all the blood, I couldn’t spot any injuries.
“Oh no,” I said quietly. What if she wasn’t the injured one? What if the blood came from someone else? Someone she hurt?
I was sure I wasn’t alone in my evaluation. I hoped that anyone who approached her would be careful.
Still, though, my heart rate picked up as other scenarios played through my mind. What if this was a trick? What if she was luring someone to shore to hurt them?
“Oh, for goodness’ sake, stop it,” I muttered to my catastrophizing thoughts. It was a good thing I was in therapy.
From the bow, it was easy to observe the rescue. Most everyone else was as curious as I was, but some folks cleared off and made their way back to the seating area, where the snacks and coffee could have appealed to them more than what might just be another day, another bay rescue to them.
Tex was a local search and rescue expert, so he might have volunteered or been recruited to assist. My thoughts were confirmed as I noticed him with another man and a woman standing on the lower deck, all of them slipping into wet suits and goggles with full backpacks stacked next to them. Their level of preparation eased my worries a little more. As the boat moved closer to the island, full gear probably wasn’t necessary, but it was always the right way to conduct any rescue. Even an obviously clear-cut one.
The captain, though not geared up, stood next to them, alternately looking out toward the island and seeming to give the rescue crew instructions, or maybe he was just asking questions. I couldn’t hear their words. Nevertheless, thumbs-ups and nods made me think they were all in sync. Tex seemed to be leading the way.
I glanced out again toward the woman, who was now sitting on the ground. When I’d first spotted her, she’d been shaking from wails or cries for help, but now it appeared that she was just crying, maybe with relief that someone was coming to help.
As I watched, a surprised expression lifted her eyebrows. Suddenly, she was on her feet. She glanced around into the woods and then back at the ship again, her expression now sheer panic. She screamed and started running for the water. I squinted at the tree line that started about thirty feet up the beach. Was someone or something coming for her?
I couldn’t spot anything—not even a suspicious shadow. Nevertheless, it sure seemed like something had frightened her. I gripped the railing again, hoping she’d make it and wondering what in the world might be coming after her.
Once she was fully submerged in the water, she swam with a speed that must have come from fear and adrenaline. She moved quickly, like a pro.
I hadn’t noticed the three rescuers jump into the water, too, but I saw them now, all headed toward the woman, who would meet them much closer to the ship than the shore at the rate she was moving.
I muttered, “Be careful, Tex.”
My disaster thinking wasn’t triggered again, though. The ship was close enough to the landmass that the water wasn’t deep. It was almost as if there were too many people in the water, considering the scenario.
I could hear the woman’s screams now as two of the rescuers took hold of her, one on each arm, and made their short way back to the boat.
Still, nothing came from the trees. I couldn’t see as deeply into them as I would have liked, but whatever she’d seen, it must have decided to explore a different direction.
I watched as they easily got the woman aboard using a plank that had been extended from the boat’s hull. Tex was the last one to come out of the water. The captain and the two others guided the woman inside and out of view, but Tex took a moment to look out toward the island.
He turned and looked up, spotting me quickly. I shrugged; so did he, just before he followed the others out of sight.
The captain and Tex had said to stay put, but no murderous animals or humans had emerged from the woods. The woman was safely aboard, and I still didn’t think she’d been mortally wounded.
It wouldn’t hurt if I made my way to the lower deck now. Would it?
Since most of the ship’s passengers were, indeed, staying in place or lining up at the snack bar again, there wasn’t a mad rush of curious onlookers. No one else seemed to wonder about the woman who’d just been rescued. One person wouldn’t get in the way.
Without impediment, I took the stairs down to the lower level and paused outside a door to the room I assumed everyone had gone into. I could hear voices on the other side, but I couldn’t make out any words. I was pretty sure I’d found the right place. No one gave me a second look as I took the seat nearest the door and hoped to be extended an invitation to go inside the room soon.
Two
I didn’t have to wait long. Tex, his hair a little wet though he was already out of the wet suit, came through about fifteen minutes later.
“Hey,” he said grimly when his eyes landed on me.
I stood to greet him. “Hey. Are you okay? Is she okay?”
Tex nodded. “I’m fine. I think she is, too, but … well, I think … This is an unusual situation, but I think we could use your help, Beth.”
“Okay.”
He looked around and guided us back outside to a spot away from the seating area, near the railing. He looked around again, but no one was close enough to eavesdrop on us.
“What’s up?” I asked.
“She was a kidnap victim, Beth. Someone took her from her house in Juneau, brought her out here. She claims that her kidnapper was … killed by a bear—and she thought she saw it coming for her as we were conducting the rescue.”
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