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“It was so good,” he whispered.
“Yes,” she said. She stretched a little in memory, her breasts pushing at the front of her shirt. “Yes, it was. The second time especially.”
He swallowed. “Yeah.” He shuffled the cards and they went all over the place. He bent over, picking them up, glad of the opportunity to hide his expression. “Amelia?”
“What?”
He gathered together all his courage and whispered her own question back at her. “Can we do it again?”
He heard her inhale, her involuntary, delighted and slightly surprised chuckle, and then Moses got to his feet, giving Bill a surreptitious tickle on the way up. “Come on, boy, time to bring in some more wood.”
The last thing Tim wanted to do was leave before his question was answered, but he rose obediently and followed Moses into the storm. A gust of wind ripped the door from his hand and slammed it shut. “Moses!”
“What? And come on, let’s get that goddamn wood before we both freeze our nuts off.” He nudged Tim, his grin a white blur in a dark smudge. “Especially now that you know what they’re for.”
Tim was glad the darkness hid his flush. He should have known the old man would see, would know. He turned his head into the wind, feeling drops of moisture cool his cheeks. “Is that snow, Moses?”
“Feels like,” the old man said, allowing the change of subject, much to Tim’s relief. He rooted through the woodpile, going down a layer in search of the dry stuff, and stacked Tim’s arms full.
“It’s too early for snow,” Tim said.
Moses added another piece of wood, and Tim could no longer see the blur. “It’s never too early for snow out here.”
A bird called, barely audible over the wind, a low note, followed by clicking sounds, the sound of bare branches rubbing together.
Moses, his arms full of wood, stood still, looking to the west.
“What?” Tim said.
“I thought I heard-”
“What?” The snow stung Tim’s cheeks and he shivered.
Moses looked at him. “Go on, get back in the house.”
Tim went inside ahead of him. Moses stood on the front porch for a minute longer, listening, but the raven didn’t speak again.
They built up the fire and Amelia made more cocoa, lumpy, just the way Tim liked it. He looked at her with his heart in his eyes.
She looked up and saw him. The color in her cheeks deepened, and her smile was part shyness, part mischief and part warm wealth of shared knowledge.
Moses shoved the table into a corner and tossed blankets and pillows down on the floor. He turned down all the lanterns and opened the fire door. They gathered in a half circle around the flames, light flickering across their faces. “Story time,” Moses said with that evil grin.
Bill settled down next to him. “Which one?”
Moses sampled his cocoa. “No contest. On a night like this, Uuiliriq.”
“The Hairy Man? Oh brother.”
Tim jumped. Amelia gave him a questioning look.
“Quiet, woman.” Moses fixed a piercing eye on the two younger members of the group, and began to speak.
It was hard to say, afterward, just what it was about his voice that so compelled the attention. It dropped to a low tone you had to strain to hear, it fell into a cadenced rhythm that had your head nodding in almost hypnotic attention. He do
It was an old story, never written down, known only to those who told it and those who listened, deep in the tiny settlements and villages of the Yupik. It was a story your grandfather told your father, and that your father told you, and that you would tell your children, in hopes that it would keep them safe inside after dark. It was a story that gave meaning to otherwise mysterious disappearances when it did not.
And it was a way to maintain a sense of cultural identity in a world increasingly white and Western.
“Uuiliriq lived in the mountains,” Moses began.
“High in the mountains he lived.
“High in the mountains, in a dark cave.
“High in the mountains, in a dark cave.
“That cave so high, nobody climb there.
“That cave so high, nobody see it.
“That cave so high, nobody find it.
“Only Uuiliriq.
“All alone he live in this cave.
“He have no mothers.
“He have no fathers.
“He have no brothers.
“He have no sisters.
“All alone he.
“All alone he sleep.
“All alone long he sleep.
“Sometime he wake up.”
Moses’ voice deepened. “Sometime Uuiliriq he wake up.
“Sometime he wake up hungry.”
Something not quite a shiver passed up Tim’s spine. “Are you okay?” Amelia whispered.
He managed a smile and nodded.
“Sometime he wake up so hungry, he go get food.”
The beat quickened.
“Sometime he leave that cave so high up in the mountains.
“Sometime he come down from those mountains.
“From those mountains sometime he come to village.
“One time he come to our village.
“Our little village by the river.
“The river she is wide.
“The river she is deep.
“The elders tell children to stay inside after dark.
“Children stay inside or the river will get them.
“But this one young boy he don’t listen.
“This boy he wait till everybody sleeping.
“Everybody sleeping he go outside.
“Go outside he go down to the river.
“Can’t catch me! he yell to her.
“Can’t catch me! he yell to the lights in the sky.
“Can’t catch me! he yell to the mountains.
“He yelling so loud.
“So loud Uuiliriq creep up behind.
“Creep up behind and grab him.
“Grab him and take him up the mountain.
“Up the mountain to that cave he got there.
“That cave so high, nobody climb there.
“That cave so high, nobody see it.
“That cave so high, nobody find it.
“The village it wakes.
“It wakes and that boy gone.
“The men they light torches.
“Light torches and climb those mountains.
“Climb those mountains and search all night long.
“All night long they see the torches from the village.
“From the village they see the torches go far away.
“Go far away and come back.
“Come back without that boy.
“Without that boy and his mother cry.
“His mother cry and his father cry.
“His father cry and his sisters cry.
“His sisters cry and his brothers cry.
“His brothers cry and his aunties cry.
“His aunties cry and his uncles cry.
“That boy gone.
“That boy long gone.
“That boy gone forever.”
The fans slowed again, beating a dirge against the air. Moses’ voice dropped to the merest breath of sound.
“Some nights.
“Some night when dark outside.
“Some night when dark outside that village wake up.
“That village wake up and hear something.
“Hear something crying
“Crying far off in that night.
“Maybe that boy.
“Maybe that boy he crying for home.
“Crying for home.
“Those people they lay in their beds.
“They lay in their beds and they listen to that crying.
“They listen to that crying.
“But they don’t go out.”
The fans beat the air, the white strands of caribou fa
“Stay inside after dark.
“After dark stay inside.
“Stay inside after dark or Uuiliriq come.
“Uuiliriq come.”
The fans stopped in midair. The room was still, the wind only a faint howl outside, the lamps the merest hiss of sound. Did a dark shape shift in the shadow near the door?