Chapter 24

The aircraft was descending. Thanks to my down jacket, hat, and scarf, I was able to hide my embarrassment and blush. All thanks to Ranold Hamilton. He was likewise dressed warmly and carried a rucksack. The temperature was below zero. It's also snowing. Light snow softly coated the land. We entered through the little airport's private gate and sat inside the spacious pickup. The streets were crowded with cars and people in the evening. But none of the towns we drove through had us stop. We just kept moving forward as though our destination were far away. And it was true.

The atmosphere and nature were very different from New Orleans. It was snowing, and there were many mountains with snow-covered forests. Soon after starting up the serpentine, the view got much nicer. I couldn't believe I was in Alaska with Ranold Hamilton and was gazing out the window.

We spent one and a half hours traveling. The air smelled different and the roads up in the mountains were blanketed in snow. We arrived at a little wooden house without a fence. I realized for the first time that there was just the two of us there since it was so quiet. And, of course, nature. It was also quite dark there, and the path to the door was snowed in, so we had to walk through the snowdrifts. My legs were practically halfway in the snow.

The house was gloomy and chilly. No one seems to dwell there. The house was constructed in a rustic design. Wood was used for everything, and soft rugs covered the floors.

"I'll start the heater and light the fireplace. Brew some tea to stay warm," Ranold said as he moved farther inside the home. I heard him coming down the stairs, and then the light went out. I took a look around. The house was considerably different from our contemporary apartment in New Orleans, but it appeared to be very similar to my style of living. There were no home appliances and a gas-powered cooker. The first room was a connection between the kitchen, which had a large wooden countertop in the middle, and the living area, which had a huge sofa and two tables with a lot of material on them, including, I guess, documents, books, and maps. A fireplace was placed next to the wall opposite the sofa.

"Close the door," Ranold said, and I flinched.

I said, "Y-yes," and then closed the door.

Before starting to stack the logs inside the fireplace, he placed a bundle of wood on the floor right in front of it. He struck a match, and magic! I instantly saw the fire.

Ranold stood up and said, "I turned on the heater, but it will take a long time to warm the home. The fireplace, though, will make it warmer soon."

He moved closer to me.

"Did you make the tea?"

'Tea! Fuck! I totally missed it!' I squinted and gave a little head shake as the thought flashed through my mind.

Ranold rubbed the end of his nose and said, "Well. I need to clear the way so I can bring the automobile in. Please make something to eat while I'm out of the house. There should be pasta and canned meat. I sincerely hope you're able to handle that."

I could only nod my head because I was embarrassed. Ranold Hamilton then exited the house, leaving me alone. I went to the fireplace to warm up a little. It took me a few minutes to start feeling even hotter, so I took off my jacket and went into the kitchen. I went through the cupboards and discovered a bundle of pasta and two cans of meat. Just as he said. I was relieved that there were no cumbersome gadgets and no electric cooker. There was only one advantage for me: everything was just like it was at home. I boiled the pasta and then combined it with the canned meat in a frying pan. When I heard the automobile outside, I just set fire to the kettle. I was relieved to finish everything on time.

The kettle started to boil as soon as Ranold Hamilton entered the house, and I could hear the whistle coming from its spout. When was the last time I prepared food for my husband? It was perhaps the second time since our first day following the wedding night. Certainly, we shared meals out at cafés or restaurants, but never at home. He got up early and returned home late. He didn't eat anything back then. It might be odd, but I didn't even ask him about that. At the time, I was relieved that our routine was different.

He put his hand on my waist and remarked, "Smells delicious," moving in closer.

He drank a little of the newly prepared tea from the cup.

Ranold pulled out a fork and said, "I'm so cold. And hungry."

He started eating spaghetti straight out of the cooking pan.

"Are you?" He inquired, bringing a fork full of meat to my mouth.

I replied quietly, "No."

He drew me aside and said, "Okay," before returning to his pasta.

His expression told me it was good. I got my tea and sat down on the couch. I heard the phone conversation and my husband tell Jane about my achievement at work today. He gave me praise. And I felt heated somewhere deep within me. I heard his soft footsteps behind me as soon as they had stopped chatting. My fingers started to rub together as I placed my cup aside. We were isolated in the mountains, far from everything, and cut off from civilization. What were we expected to do?

I heard a low, calm voice calling out "Olivier" from somewhere nearby.

I turned away from him. When he started touching me again, I was waiting and looked somewhere down.

He leaned his head against my shoulder and mumbled, "I'm so exhausted. Come over here."

He took hold of my legs and placed them on the couch. I clutched his shoulders, but all he did was lie on top of me, clutching me tightly and resting his head on my chest. He passed out on me as I was attempting to recover from what had just happened. He was sleeping, I realized when I squeezed the sofa's back. When I heard his steady, quiet breathing, I realized I was pinned beneath him. I tried to move, but he just hugged me more tightly while he sighed softly. I tried again, but the same thing happened. My heart was racing so quickly that I couldn't help but worry too much and exert myself till I fell asleep as well.

We awoke together for the first time since that New York night. By "awoke together" I meant myself. The weather was beautiful, and snow coated everything in white. I didn't realize I was lying on Ranold and listening to his heartbeat until I stopped staring out the unusually narrow windows. I abruptly stood up on him, flushing and feeling my cheeks heat up. Together, we were there. Both were holding each other while resting on the bed in warm athletic clothing. I was bewildered. I felt safe being close to him because I was lying on him so peacefully and listening to his heartbeat and breath.

Suddenly realizing that, I got to my feet and entered the restroom. I couldn't believe how comfortable I felt next to Ranold Hamilton as the sun's rays illuminated the bathroom as I sat on the toilet. How had I ended up here?

I could only guess. I got dressed after taking a shower and put on the clothing my husband brought. It was warm flared pants and a turtleneck sweater.

"I'm going hunting," my husband stated as he ate sandwiches he had made for us while I was in the bathroom. "Eating deer meat in the evening is a special ritual I have for Alaska Day."

He showed me the tasks I needed to finish by the end of the day before he left. Charts once more. Now I had to count all the sums and leave the total in the graphic after removing the letter identifiers. I spent a lot of time doing it as well. I was eating, lying, working, and attempting to appreciate the scenery out the window. I had the impression that I had done something wrong and was being left alone. Plus, I was bored. There was no internet connection at all. It was a complete waste of time. I had no idea what was going on around me. Since it was Saturday, I hoped that no one would be curious as to why I was skipping lectures.

When I eventually completed the task Ranold set me, it was already evening. I discovered the jam in the cabinet, and I started eating it straight from the jar with a spoon. It was silent. A little frightening, too. I went outdoors after opening the door. The temperature was low. I placed the jar on the porch railing and moved on into the snow. The snow was dazzling under the starry, starry sky, and it was incredibly white. I raised my head and looked up at the hundreds of stars, feeling a little chilly. I recognized some of the constellations that we learned about in middle school. I could feel the frost seeping into my body as I inhaled deeply through all of my lungs in the freezing fresh air.

I then heard glass breaking in the distance. I quickly spun around and noticed a big polar bear on the porch. I trembled and backed away, feeling the fear imprison me from the inside out. With no idea what to do, I gasped. The cub was licking the jam off the porch when I heard a soft roar and looked over to the bear. That was both gorgeous and horrifying, my god. My legs and hands both started to feel cold. A bear was in my way as I tried to return home while it was on the porch, blocking my path. It was smelling the ground and casting a far-off glance. I had no idea what to do or where to go. I froze in place. In disbelief that this was happening to me, I crossed my hands over my chest. My eyes began to sting from the cold as I started crying. I begged Ranold to return as soon as possible at that very moment. When the familiar voice finally appeared, I was shivering from the cold.

"Olivier, why are you here?" Ranold questioned as he grabbed my arm and wrapped me in his jacket.

I mumbled "Ran-nold" while gesturing toward the porch.

The bear growled in response to his "Oh, fuck," but did not move when he raised his hunting rifle at it.

I quickly grabbed the weapon when I heard the shutter snap.

I muttered, "Don't shoot."

The bear growled once again. That one dragged on longer and howled more. The cub immediately appeared on the road and hurried in our direction, but the bear roared once more, and it stopped at the midpoint. The young white cub followed the slowly moving polar bear as it made its way into the forest. Ranold drew me close and brought me into the house. I wasn't sure how much time I had spent outside, but my hands and face were red and tingly.

Ranold motioned for me to follow him as he entered the kitchen after setting the weapon down and saying, "Come here."

He filled a flask with water after removing it from the closet.

"What's that?" I inquired, taking the glass from his hands.

"Drink," he said, and I did so with shaky hands.

The alcohol was potent and quite scorching. I grimaced and frowned, as if it were something repulsive. It actually was. I could hardly swallow it, but he insisted on drinking all three shots. Deep within me, I felt warm. And dizzy. Everything started to blur. Ranold caught me as I reached out to grasp something as I felt like I would fall, and he helped me in getting to the sofa.

He rubbed my shoulders and back, saying, "You need to warm up."

Nothing made sense to me. I'd had too much alcohol. It might have been vodka or moonshine. I had no idea, but I warmed up quickly.