“Welcome back, guys. We received your telegram, in time to make your room arrangements. Frank saw to it that you get room 205 once again.” “It seems strange arriving here without Dad to greet us.” “We all miss him. We thought a great deal of him. No one’s been in his paint shop since he departed. I was just down there today for the first time in months. It’s still the same, except I smelled some spilled or open paint down there. Johnny, I’m giving you your dad’s job of head painter. Emil’s shop is yours now.” “I don’t know what to say, Mr. Jensen. Why me?” “For one thing, there’s been no need for a paint foreman until now. We need one for the mill job. You’ve learned the ropes. You know how we do our paint work. You certainly had enough experience on our big job last year. We’re short handed, as usual, and here you are. It’s yours. Treat the job right. “As I said, I noticed a heavy lead paint smell down there. The old shop will need some cleanup and airing out before you can use it.” “I’m thrilled to have my dad’s shop, if even for a short time. Let’s take a look at it.” They crossed the train over the rear deck of the Pullman combine and headed for the paint shop in the lower level of the old sawmill. “We better open some windows and doors down here. It sure smells strong. We’ll start right on it.” “Go up there and get settled and get some lunch. You look like you can use it. See you down here after a while.” Less than an hour later, the two returned to Emil’s shop. “It may have smelled strongly of paint fumes, but it’s Dad’s place. Now it’s ours as well, Cap. Look, Dad’s old tools are neatly arranged and ready to go.”
Johnny picked up one of the brushes hanging on the wall. He ran his thumb through it. The bristles were soft and pliable. “Nice. Good old Dad. Say, Cap, it seems awfully dark down here. I wonder if there are any more lights working. What’s this?” Johnny found the switch and flipped it. The room turned bright. “I thought so. There had to be more lights somewhere. Help me with this sliding door, Cap.” The heavy old door resisted. They pushed until it finally relented, letting in the afternoon sun from the west. “Now that’s more like it. We can get some air in this place finally. The spilled paint smell in here is terrible. Hey, Johnny, look at the wide deck out here. It must have been used for open storage at one time.” “Good place to set the old paint cans.” “Let’s find the open paint and clean it up, Sla’cheen. Looks like there’s a lot of old paint cans that can be just pitched out.” “Since you’re the boss down here, where do I haul the bad cans, Johnny?” “Out to the deck, where else? Throw the empties onto the ground. The yard crew can come and get ‘em.” “Look over here, Indian boss.” “Cut it out, Cap. It’s just me. Remember?” “I just want you to remember it’s just you. Don’t need the title going to your head, Indian boss. I still have to work and live with you.” Cap was staring at a large group of five-gallon paint cans along a back wall. “This must be it. Yes, here it is. There’s red paint that’s flowed all over the floor back here. It’s still wet. One of these cans near the wall must have split open somehow really recently. Aren’t we lucky ? Nasty job ahead of us here, boss. Wouldn’t want to have to breathe this stuff very long. It’s already giving me a headache.” “This is probably what killed Dad, Cap. Can you believe this smell? Imagine breathing it for years. How could anyone live with this? Now, I’m getting a headache. “We’ll leave the sliding door open and get back to this later, Cap. Enough of this. Time to get out of here. I can use the fresh air. Let’s check in with the office and see Frank.” The train was already being loaded with ore when the two crossed over one of the couplings between two empty cars. They followed the railroad trestle past the electricians’ warehouse. At the rear of the building was the beginning of the sidewalk which passed the office on the way to National Creek dam. “Dad said the office is the second oldest building on the property. Only the sawmill where our paint shop sits is older. Look at that log front face. Dad said that Stephen Birch himself helped built it.” A familiar looking young man behind the glass handed the two their necessary paperwork. “Bittner, right? You’re John Bittner. You’ve got the large cottage on the north end--the one with the cat that sometimes watched us work.” “That’s me. Good memory. Great to see you guys again. Frank’s expecting you.” “That would be me.”
Frank had slipped down the narrow L-shaped stairwell. Johnny hugged Frank, taking him completely by surprise. He was not aware that the practice was common among Indians who know each other well. Frank felt embarrassed, but he was also touched by the show of affection. “You’re almost one of us, Frank. You’ve always backed us up. Always been there for us. Good to see you again.” Frank fought himself hard to not let his emotions show. The young clerk Bittner was a little dumbfounded at first, but accepted it and went on with his paperwork. “Don’t make me into something that I’m not. But thanks. Thank you so much. What a great way to end this day. Look, I have to go now.” All this was just a little too much for Frank. He escaped upstairs to the map room. Fortunately, everyone else had already departed the office except the young clerk John Bittner, who did not seem to think this was such a big deal. Does this mean I’m finally doing something right? Have I found my true home here at Kennecott? The junior engineer turned back to his work. He would be working late again tonight. Soon he would be returning to his assignment at Jumbo. Johnny and Cap approached the west barrack in silence. They reached the familiar room in the attic area. It had two bunks, but only the two of them were assigned to 205.. “This Kennecott, it is a very strange place, Johnny. There are men here who would just as soon kill us as look at us and then there are those who make us feel like we’re home. I think it’s growing on me, Sla’cheen. “Look at Chris Jensen, for example. He made you the paint foreman, giving you your Dad’s old shop like it was nothing. That old paint shop’s been untouched all this time--almost like Jensen was saving your Dad’s place just for you. I think he wanted you and no one else to have it. Just like our engineer friend up there. He made sure we got our very same room back, with no room mates. He understands, yet he doesn’t know us.” “It’s great, isn’t it. There’s some really nice people up here. Even that Bittner fellow is okay. I’d like to see this season go by well without serious problems. It seems like there’s always a dark lining to everything. Speaking of that, what do you suppose happened back at McCarthy?” “Shee-ya appeared in my dream. In the very room where I was dreaming he showed up and let me see the future of McCarthy. I could sense something very strange there even before my dream. Or maybe it was a vision. “It’s what I told you earlier, back in the billiards hall in Chitina. This place--railroad, white man towns, the mines, everything--is doomed. It won’t even be that long. Nicolai came as a kay-yee-gay--a ghost--just like you saw him through the window. He told me that soon we will our land back. But I’m not sure I want it back in the way he showed it to me. I just don’t know now. I was so sure about it before. It was all so strange. Maybe it wasn’t him, but an evil spirit who looked like him. You saw that raven. Not a good sign. There was one other thing. He told me that we sla’cheen must stick together through whatever is coming. He said we would both perish if we did not.”
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08 February 2011
Chapter 37: "Emil's Paint Shop," Pt 2
Chapter 37: "Emil's Paint Shop," Pt 1
John Bittner picked up the stack of telegrams from the railroad station office. One of them was addressed to Frank Buckner. “Thanks, John. I see the two Indian painters will be up on the train today. Set up the paperwork and give me their room assignment. I’ll let Chris know.” Frank brought the telegram down to the old carpenter shop, where master carpenter Chris Jensen was looking over the plans for the new hospital annex. “Yes, I remember those two well from the power plant job. Good. We can certainly use them for the repainting work on the mill. The paint for that work should already be here in one of the the boxcars that arrived a few days ago. It’s on the north siding. Good timing. Weather’s just right, too.” “I brought the room assignment with me. I’m leaving it to you to see they’re set up in camp, since you’re their foreman for this job.” “West barrack number 205, is it? That sounds familiar. Didn’t they have that one before?”
“I had to do some advance planning to see they had the same room. I want them to feel they’re on familiar ground.” “That’s awfully thoughtful of you, Frank.” “Those are special men. John lost his father here last year while we still had the two of them working up at Erie. The pair did good work for us on three different assignments. I want them treated right. It was their room before. I wanted to make sure it was still theirs.” “Yes, Emil was a good man, and his son and that other fellow did good work for us here at the shop and at the power plant. I’ll intercept them at the train station and see to everything. Haven’t had a paint foreman since Emil died. I might just give Johnny the job.” “Wouldn’t that be something? Think he’s up to it?” “I’m with you, Frank. I think those two earned their place here. It’s just a title anyway, but it’ll let them work out of Emil’s old shop. No one’s touched it since he died. Been no reason to go in there.” “There’s the whistle, Chris. I’m leaving it to you. I’ve got to get back.” Chris accompanied Frank out of the old shop. He took a good look at the top of the mill. It was badly faded. Parts of the building still had the original paint from 1911. The newest paint was on the highest section just above the conveyors and elevators. Those were levels thirteen and fourteen, which were rebuilt to accommodate the new Jumbo tram in 1915. The entire west face, which was the narrow end facing the glacier, had been blasted without mercy by the elements over the years. Chris had already decided that everything from the Hancock jig at level six, all the way to the top, which was level fourteen, would have to be repainted. The lower end had already been modified two years before. All of the lower levels had new paint. There are several men around here who could handle those heights, but they’re all miners and tram men. Only those two Indians and Henry have any painting experience, thanks to last year’s job. Henry’s tied up, so It’ll be good to have someone I can rely on to do the work. I hope I can rely on them. Chris felt the vibrations running through the tracks. It would not be long. He headed back into the carpenter shop, lifted up the hatch door and walked down the narrow stairwell into the paint room. No one had used the paint shop since Emil died. It seemed only fitting that he was about to give this area over to Emil’s very own son. Everything appeared to be in place. Emil had left the tools cleaned and neatly arranged for the next job.
Darn. I smell paint down here. Something’s broken open. Looks like those boys have some cleanup work for their first job. Smells strong. I’m out of this place. Chris headed back up the stairs, stopping to close the hatch to keep the spilled paint smell contained. He stepped out into the light and walked over to the small telegraph station. The train appeared just past the dairy tender first, then the engine. The engine and its tender had been faced the opposite direction at the Shushanna Junction turntable, then sent up the nearly five miles up the tracks in reverse pulling its long load of empty flat cars. Number 74 would leave Kennecott in a few hours facing south. The engines, for safety reasons, always had to face the proper direction going down the hill into the McCarthy area. There was no turn-around at Kennecott, so the engine and tender had to be reversed at Shushanna Junction. The loud screeching sounds of metal on metal as the brakes were applied served as the final notice that the engine was approaching its destination, passing the recreation hall, then the west barrack and company store before arriving at the station. The engine backed into place, facing the combine, several box cars, and the usual long line of steel flatcars with a caboose somewhere out on the very far end. Art Holt pulled the combine to a stop in front of the station. Chris moved forward to greet Johnny and Cap.
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Chapter 36: "Cap's Vision of Nicolai," Pt 2
The Mecca,where the two met Stephen Birch and his party the summer before was locked up. He looked through the glass. He could see the shapes of the three billiards tables in there, but the place had a very dead look to it, similar to the drug store. Cap felt a presence. He turned around, startled to see a motherly-appearing woman who was probably in her fifties staring at him and smiling. “Hello, youngman. Are you looking for a place to stay? I operate several boarding houses around here if you need a room.” “I might. I came in with another fellow. He headed to the Row to visit with someone named Rose Katrina. I’m not sure how long he plans to stay.” She raised her eye brows. “Oh yes. I know who that is. Johnny Gakona. I remember him from last year. I think he drinks too much. I hope you don’t. Rose works for me, you know.” Then it hit Cap that this woman was Kate Kennedy. She was the infamous stout matron who oversaw all the prostitutes in McCarthy. She owned the Alaska Hotel and several other businesses. He had never encountered her before, but it was said that she also controlled the prostitutes at Breedman’s Hotel Chitina. Rumor had it that she came from Dawson City where she made her first fortune. This was a rich lady.
“Your MadameKennedy, aren’t you?” She smiled at that. The smile chilled Cap. “Look, I can take care of myself tonight. I usually just camp out anyway. Why don’t you let Johnny know I’ll be at the usual place?” Her smile quickly turned into a look of disapproval. “That Johnny Gakona kid only paid once. After that he took advantage of my girl and my business.” “Maybe I’ve changed my mind. We might be here for awhile How much are your rooms?” Her eyes brightened up. “For you, only a dollar a day. There’s one upstairs over there.” She pointed to a stairwell leading to the second floor of the Golden. Cap saw that the windows which seemed to face the glacier. “You mean oneof those?” “If you like. I have plenty of space tonight.” “One night,” Cap said as he pulled out a dollar coin and handed it to the woman. “I’ll take one with the view of the river and glacier.” “Follow me,” she said, as she led him toward the covered stairwell. The narrow wooden stairs creaked under her heavy footsteps. She pulled out a skeleton key and headed down a very dim passageway. It was almost too dark to see. Then Cap heard her insert and turn the key. She pushed the door open, flooding the hallway with light. Inside a single window was partly opened. The pull shade was fully up. Curtains hanging along both long edges gently moved as a light breeze came through. On each side of the narrow room was a single bed. Both sagged ever so slightly. Each was made up with linen and a woolen blanket. Behind the bed on the right was a narrow bureau with a mirror. Behind the other bed was a washstand with a basin, pitcher and two tin cups. A single chair stood in front of the stand. The woman pointed to a small closet. Cap threw his pack on the floor and walked over to the window. “There’s theextra blankets. Never know when you might need ‘em. The outhouse is out back. So is the pump. If you need any female company let me know. I’ve got a nice selection. If I remember, you were partial to Bubbles. I’ll send her up if you like.”
“How do I find you, Mrs. Kennedy?” “Oh, just ask anybody. Just ask for Kate. You’ll find me. I’m always around here somewhere. You have a good evening, young man. I’ll see that your friend Johnny Gakona knows you’re here.” The Madame quietly slipped into the darkness of the hallway and was gone. Cap pushed up the lower pane of the window all the way. It seemed almost dead out there. He poured some water out of the pitcher and tasted it. This stuff tastes stale. No, it tastes dead. Like muskeg water, but worse. Room smells old and musty, too. This place really seems dead. Be glad to get out of here. I feel trapped in here. Got to get out of here and find some real water. Eat later. The sound of the shrill train whistle of No. 71, followed by the screeching of iron as the wheels of all those cars began to move, caught his attention. Now that sounds alive. Wish I were going to Kennecott tonight. It’s lonely in here. I might be tempted to do something foolish just waiting for Johnny. I’m tired the water can wait. Cap pulled his Hudson Bay blanket out of his pack sat on the narrow bed, which seemed comfortable enough. He pulled off his boots and tossed them in the direction of the chair. He three his heavy shirt toward the other bed, lifted his weary legs onto the sagging mattress and pulled the potlatch blanket over himself. He was asleep almost immediately. He found himself looking up at Chief Nicolai. “Grandfather, you’re still alive.” “Tsuuye, I stay close to my people. You just can’t always see me.” “Where are we?” “Look around you.” Cap was startled to find he was still in the room above the Golden. Nicolai was sitting on the empty bed three feet away. Somehow the room seemed darker and even older. The only sound he could hear was that of the wind coming off the glacier. He lifted himself up. His boots were on the floor right where he’d kicked them off. His shirt was laying on the bed next to Shee-ya, where he’d tossed it. He pulled off his Hudson Bay blanket and stood up. “Look outside, Tsuuye.” The view startled him. The buildings across the street stared blankly back at him. Most had dirty, broken glass. In the direction of the railroad yard something seemed to be missing. Yes, that was it. The entire group of buildings where the large white drugstore building stood was gone. Fireweed grew thick among charred timbers where the heart of the town once stood. The distinctive railroad warehouse with its diamond-shaped windows at the end of the siding was missing. So was most of the railroad trestle. A few old pilings could be seen sticking out of the gray, roaring water of the main channel. The railroad water tower at Clear Creek had also vanished. “Grandfather, what happened out there? The railroad and half the town is gone. Looks like a ghost town.” “It is a ghost town. Look at me. I’m a ghost. This is a ghost town. You were right when you told Johnny that McCarthy would die. You have seen it for yourself. This is the future which the white men will leave you--useless, empty buildings. Some of them gone completely. No railroad. No mine at Kennecott. Just scars on the land. Don’t listen to these white people. They are not here to stay. They’re here to take and to spoil and then to leave. “Believe only in yourself and your own people. Stay together no matter what happens. If you follow the white man too far you will be lost. There are many devil spirits among the white man. Learn from him, take what you can, but remember. White man come and white man go. They have no roots here. We will always be here. What exists now because of the white man will fade away until there is nothing left. Nothing at all. They will leave you destroyed as well unless you heed me. Always remember who you are. Only as saghanni utsuuy can you hope to survive. You are of the Raven Clan--the Children of the Earth.” “What about the Saghanni ggaay, Shee-ya?” “You already know about the ravens. They are here because of the curse. They only come when a spirit is about to pass on. Sometimes it’s a human spirit. Sometimes its the spirit which lives in an object--like the white man’s old home. Watch that they do not come for you. They look like us, but they are not us. “There is much left for you to do, Tsuuye. Work with your sla’cheen. You will both be lost otherwise. It was meant that you would always work together.” Cap reached toward Nicolai to touch him. Nicolai faded into the darkness. Cap jumped straight out of bed and fell off the edge. His head hit the backpack, which cushioned his fall. His body hurt. The floor was cold and hard. He pulled himself off the bare wood floor and looked outside. Everything was in its place as he remembered it when he walked into town earlier that day. It was just starting to get dark. People were finally coming out. He could see some of them walking the dusty street below. He took the water pitcher and headed outside down the dark hallway and stairs toward the water pump, still not wearing either his shirt or his boots. He was too upset to think straight. At the bottom of the stairs he found a firm, sun-warmed wooden sidewalk. He glanced across Shushanna Avenue where saw the double garage doors open and a model-T inside waiting to be serviced. The town appeared very much alive, though now there was no one in sight.
Cap walked around to the back of the building. The grass felt good as he swished through it in his bare feet. The warm wind blew gently on his bare back. He knew he was still alive. He spotted the outhouse and then found the well pump. It supplied fresh, icy-cold water almost instantly. He took a long, refreshing drink, then hauled the full pitcher back up to his room. He downed two more icy cups of the good-tasting water. The Golden’s right downstairs. Think I’ll get dressed in my good shirt and have a real drink. Maybe play some pool. Need to be around live people. Any live people. Too weird around here. Cap had a special, fancy shirt he kept for going out. Sometimes he liked to appear in downtown Chitina looking well-dressed. He wanted to look good now. He unpacked the western-style wear and his bone choker, which he tied around his neck. It had been given to him by his father. Might want to take Kate up on the offer. Will it be Bubbles tonight ? Have to look good, just in case. Cap was surprised to find Kate Kennedy sitting alone inside on one of the tall stools at the bar. The back bar featured a long plate-glass mirror. He saw an image of himself which looked good. “Have a seat young man. My, don’t you look good! Wish I were half my age after seeing you like this. Bartender, let me buy the young man a drink.” The bartender gave Kate a puzzled look. “Are you sure that’s allowed? After all, he’s Indian.” “He’s an Indian, all right. And I’m a white woman. Where’ve you been, Jim. This is the Twentieth Century. There’re no slaves anymore. No inferior people. Not even us women are below you like you still want to believe. We ladies are every bit your equal now. And don’t you forget it. Besides, Indians just got the right to vote. So pour the man a drink. I believe he needs one.” The bartender reluctantly poured a whiskey into a glass and pushed it toward Cap. Cap looked at Kate, not quite knowing what to make of the large lady. “Thank you, but let me buy you the next one, since you decided we’re all equals here. And you can call me Cap.” She looked back and smiled. Cap still was not sure about that smile. He felt like he was looking at a she-devil when Kate smiled. “Now that’s a gentleman I hear. And a remarkably handsome one at that. You do know that, don’t you? I size up men for a living. You’re a real gem. Thankyou for the offer young man, I accept.” Cap turned around to view the pool table. No one else was in the room but Kate and the bartender. Kate understood what Cap wanted.
“You’re a player? So am I, ” Kate spoke up in her overbearing voice. “Let’s see what you can do, sweetie.” “You ever find Johnny?” “Haven’t been down at the Row yet. He’s got to be there. You know how he likes that Rose, sweetie.” “Do I ever. Call me Cap.” He changed the subject. “Small town, McCarthy. It ends very suddenly, just like Chitina. So tell me Kate, why does it seem so quiet around here--almost like a ghost town?” “Well, sweetie, sometimes it does seem that way. Kennecott is still going strong, but the Chisana boom died out, and all those promising claims along the Nizina never did amount to much. Only a few camps are operating out there. Since Kennecott quit expanding it’s not the same anymore. We used to have workers down from Bonanza and Jumbo and Motherlode and Green Butte all the time. No longer. Some families have already left. Businesses have boarded up. Not me. I’m the spirit of the town. I’ll be here to the end. No one runs old Kate out.” Cap took a sip out of the glass, then leaned over above the table to make his first shot. He heard the door open behind him. “Hello, Cap! Where you been?” He turned around. It was Johnny. Rose was with him. She was almost over-dressed. If it was possible, she was wearing even more makeup and heavy perfume than before. This time Cap hugged Johnny, much to Johnny’s surprise. “What happened to you, Cap? Something’s not right, is it?”
“Are we leaving tomorrow, Johnny? There’s not much to do here and this place is beginning to give me the creeps.” “Have Kate find you a woman. I see you’re dressed for it. Bubbles is still around. I didn’t see you turn her down last time.” Cap had only taken one shot of whiskey so far. He reached to the bar to grab his glass, when something caught his eye. He couldn’t believe what he saw through the mirror. He whirled around to face the outside window. Sure enough, it was the lone figure of Nicolai staring at him through the glass. A raven stood on his shoulder. Cap dropped the cue stick he had been holding. Everyone else looked in the direction of the window, but only Johnny appeared to be startled. “Did you see that, Sla’cheen?” Cap did not wait for an answer. He set the glass back on the bar and headed for the door. The ghost of Nicolai, if that’s what it was, had vanished, as had the raven. “Do what you want, Johnny. I’m getting some sleep. I’m out of here tomorrow, whether you’re ready or not. Had enough of this town.” Johnny let loose of Rose and followed Cap out the door onto the sidewalk. “I saw him, too Sla’cheen. He wanted me to see him. Him and his raven. Where are you staying?” Cap pointed to his open window directly above. “I’m sending Rose home. I’m afraid after seeing Shee-ya I might want to get drunk. I’d probably mess everything up if I did. Especially after seeing him. I’m staying up there with you, Sla’cheen. I’ve had enough to drink, already. Need to get out of here, too.” “Rose won’t understand.” “Yes she will. I paid her this time. She said Kate needs the money. It’s all about the money. I’m tired of it. Don’t leave. Wait right here for me. I’m going up there with you.” “Rose, I’ll see you later. No, don’t wait for me. Just see you later.” “You got room up there, Cap?” “We’ll manage, Sla’cheen. We always have.”
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Chapter 36: "Cap's Vision of Nicolai," Pt 1
Sal Reed stepped down from the high cab of No. 71. On the last run he had brought in No. 73 and exchanged it for this one, as the 100-hour maintenance mark approached. It had been another great day in the valley. The winds were light and there was almost no cloud cover. The bright sun had caused the river to sparkle a multitude of reflections into his face most of the way up. But he did not mind. It added to the dreamy effect of this absolutely wonderful valley. Sal felt great today. Everything was working well for him. The amount of in-going freight had finally started to diminish after a long run of thirteen years. Full inbound train loads had been the rule. Finally the loads were smaller and less frequent. He had been on this system from the very beginning and had risen to the senior position. Sal had the pick of assignments. If his brother John had lived, John would have been senior to Sal. John died in 1913 when the rotary he was operating crashed through trestle 75B. What was so ironic was that on the way north, John’s rotary No. X-1 had been stopped on that very trestle. John Reed decided to take advantage of the stop to drop the hot ashes through the grate, even though it was against company policy to dump ashes on the wood trestles due to the danger of fire. For reasons no one would ever know, John ignored the policy. On the return trip, he failed to see the thirty feet of burned, missing trestle. John was crushed by No. X-1 when it crashed through the trestle remains and landed deep in the ravine. The accident resulted from his own carelessness. But in a rare jury decision, his widow won a substantial settlement in court anyway.
Sal shook his head. He missed his brother and wished above all else that John could still be here to enjoy what Sal thought of as “God’s country.” What a pointless tragedy. I can’t believe you did that to us, John. He walked back to take another look at his consist. There were the usual thirty-five steel flat cars of 100,000 pound gross capacity. Four of them were loaded with milled lumber. There was a battery-powered locomotive bound for the mines on the fifth car and a load of steel on the sixth. The other cars were empty. In front were three outside-braced box cars. The attached tags indicated full loads of everything from oats to boxes of new clothes from Sears. A fourth car, no. 288, was the stock car holding several dairy cows destined for Kennecott. Pullman combine no. 51 was directly behind the tender. Sal decided it would be best to break the load up and relay it all to Kotsina. Then it could be reassembled for the trip into Shushanna Junction. He turned to the stationmaster. “We’ll break this up into two sections. I’ll take the heavy front end as one load, with the pusher to my rear, then return for all the empty flat cars.” George nodded. Usually they would send the coach car last, so the passengers wouldn’t be stuck at Kotsina waiting for the rest of the train. However, there were no passengers today except Johnny and Cap, who were still considered railroad employees. George would prevail on them to help with the train relay process. He walked back to the depot to explain this to the two passengers. Sal began powering up the engine for the first run. It was quite warm out so the engine required little time to gain full pressure. The first group of cars would be ready to leave soon. It would be a quick process. At the depot Cap sat with his father. “Remember, you’re the son of the chief. Do right. If you have a son, you will be chief someday. That’s our way.” “I know, father. I’ll follow our Indian way. You know that.” Johnny sat with his mother Helen, his sister Violet and her musher friend Abbey. Charlie sat on the other side of Cap. Abbey had the dog Yew nee on a leash. If anyone could hold back this dog, it was Abbey. She had a way with animals which baffled the men. George walked up to Johnny and explained the situation. “You just help with this relay process to speed it all up, and I’ll owe you one.” “You’ve always been fair with us, George. But we’d do it anyway. We’re still part of the railroad. Don’t send someone along you don’t need when we’re there anyway.” The train pulled out so smoothly, the two Indians in the combine hardly noticed. Sal was a wizard at the controls. “Back to Kennecott. Are we going to make this a habit, Sla’cheen?” “It’s an interesting place to work. Something always different. What do you think? I know you like the food.” “I could get used to it. That was quite a party at Tom’s lodge. What’d you think of it, Johnny?” “I sure found a lot of female admirers. Tom’s rose hip wine was not as good as he made it sound, but it sure was strong. The women seemed to like it, anyway. I still didn’t find any women I like as well as Rose.” “Still on that Rose thing, are you Johnny? Am I going to have to drag you out of McCarthy again?” The train pulled to a halt at Kotsina. The men jumped off the coach and waited. Sal Reed backed the loaded cars into the siding, where the two Indians uncoupled the load from the engine. “You guys come with me. Hop on. There’s enough room here. Ever ridden in one of these backwards? You might as well enjoy the run back to Chitina instead of waiting around for nothing here at Kotsina.” “This is going to be a great day. You’ll really like this. Come on up, Cap.”
Cap stepped up onto the high deck. He could feel a sense of enormous power coming through the steel floor of the cab. It was everywhere. He felt the life which existed within the massive engine. Now he was beginning to understand what Johnny must be feeling. Whatever magic there was in these iron horses was beginning to overtake him as well. This is . . . what is this I’m feeling? It’s great, whatever it is. I’m up here on this high deck and I love it. No wonder Johnny’s such a nut. Must be contagious. Now this is a machine. Cap would never speak those words. But Johnny caught the look on his face, smiled and pointed at him. “You’ve got the bug too, Cap. I know it when I see it.” He hugged Cap after saying that, much to Cap’s surprise. This was rare for the two of them, but both Cap and Johnny were so caught up in the exhilaration of the moment that they could hardly contain themselves. Johnny was thrilled beyond belief that his sla’cheen -- the person who invariably and inevitably ended up mattering the most in his life was there to share the ecstasy of this ride with him. It was less than an hour later before the train was finally reassembled at Kotsina and ready for the remaining run. “It’s one of those unusually great days out here, ” Reed observed. “It’s the kind of day a railroad engineer lives for. You two might as well stay up front with fireman and me. Plenty of room. Enjoy the trip. The scenery is awesome from up here as you’ve already observed. More so from the cab than anywhere else on the train.” Indeed it was. The route included several long straight lines of track which enabled the huge engine, running on track in near-perfect condition, to operate at very high speeds. The excitement of having that full sounding steam whistle blow so close as the heavy Mikado rushed through the Chitina River valley was of a type neither Cap nor Johnny had ever experienced. Even the normally stoic Cap was completely carried away by it all. Ahead at the end of the first long stretch was Strelna. The water tank stood prominently on the right, but to left, a depression filled with blackened remains marked the spot where a two-story lodge once stood only weeks before. A few minutes later the train reached the Kuskulana crossing. The steel bridge, together with its wood trestle approaches, exceeded 700 feet. The depth of the gorge seemed even more pronounced from the locomotive cab. Just beyond the gorge were several long straight stretches which allowed the train to reach its full speed of over sixty miles per hour. Cap could see indications of a small mining operation hanging along the sheer face of a cliff wall on the eastern end of Crystalline Hill as the locomotive raced on by. Soon the red buildings of Chokosna Station were in sight. A mining supply road led into the hills from the depot. The train made a brief mail stop and then continued. Minutes later the train reached the long curved Gilahina trestle, where it was necessary to slow to about ten miles per hour as the rails followed the contour of the hill, then entered the tall bridge. Water barrels were placed on platforms every hundred feet in event of fire due to hot ashes from the train. The train followed yet another series of long, straight track sections into Crystal Lake. A water tower stood at the small trestle crossing the creek. Beyond was a sawmill operation on Crystal Lake. The train passed through without stopping, heading into a final long run of track as it approached the Lakina River trestle, which was near the beginning of Long Lake. The train stopped to pick up a load of vegetables from the farm. This consisted mostly of carrots bound for Kennecott. These were favored by the mules which provided tram power in the Bonanza Mine on some of the levels. Beyond the lake, the train entered higher country as it approached the west slope of Fireweed Mountain. The approach into McCarthy was sometimes considered the best part of this run, due to the view of Bonanza Ridge, Porphyry Mountain and the Kennicott Glacier and river.
As the train approached Shushanna Junction, the sandy bluffs running along the eastern bank of the Kennicott River came into view. Then the glacier and the long trestle crossing. Just beyond lay the very small town of McCarthy. Cap immediately noticed the two-story drug store marking the center of town and the silent Mother Lode power plant at the southern end near the creek. I wouldn’t trade being here for anything. Nothing could replace it, not even close, except maybe for our visit to Shee-ya when he told us the raven story. What a thrill to share this ride with my sla’cheen Cap. My dearest friend ever. Two very happy young men left engine No. 71 at the junction, carrying their bedrolls. Cap had also packed the usual camping gear, just to be on the safe side. He had the bulk of the load strapped on his back. As the two wandered into town, Cap noticed that the old place seemed quieter than it was on their last summer visit. Two of the businesses on the main street stood empty. No one was in sight. “Seems odd around here. I miss Kay-yew-nee. It’s not right without him here, too. I’m going in for a soda, Sla’cheen.” “You know where I’m headed, Cap. See you later.” Cap wandered into the large drug store to find the soda fountain. Outside Johnny had continued on in the direction of the Row, apparently not caring that Cap was no longer walking with him. The feelings both had when they departed the train had quickly changed as they entered the town. Cap found a store that appeared to be equipped to handle a much larger town than McCarthy. To the rear was a row of post office boxes. A padded row of stools at the counter seemed inviting. Cap sat down, then looked around again. No sign of life anywhere. The place was huge, but there was no one in the heavily-stocked store.
The place was not that old, but there was something about it that made it feel ancient. Like the place itself was alive. It was dead silent. Nothing. But there was an unmistakable presence, and it was not friendly. He began to feel like he couldn’t breathe in there. Cap stood back up and quietly walked out the door and into the sunlight, where he felt a sense of relief. Something wrong in that place. Never going in there again. |
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