Between Two Worlds (23 page)

“Fine.” Duncan shoved past us and slipped into the crowd.

Alone with Angulluk in the galley, with the loud sounds of the party in the next room, I took a deep breath. I was afraid he’d be angry. Instead, he looked smug.

He’d stood up for me and this was a good thing. “Angulluk,” I said, “have you decided
never
to trade me to the
qallunaat
again?”

“We’ll see.”

“Tell me. This isn’t something to tease about. Look what happened.”

He stopped smiling. “I won’t trade you to Duncan. As for the other
qallunaat
, no, probably not. At least not for a while.”

He made a mistake. So he wasn’t going to give up his quest for white man’s goods, even though he already had two rifles and could trade his skills as a hunter for cartridges. He wasn’t going to treat me as I deserved.

“If you’re not sure,” I said, “I’ll leave you.”

“You can’t manage without me.”

“You’re mistaken.” We both knew it was true. In the past few seasons, I’d shown how valuable my sewing was to the
qallunaat
, as well as to our people. And I’d also become more skillful in bringing in food. “I don’t need you.”

He kicked me in the stomach. I fell backward, rose to my feet, and charged, hitting him. Just then, the galley door swung open.

“Billy Bah! I’ve been looking for you!” a deep voice called.

It was Mauripaulak. “What’s the matter? You two argue like dogs. Come on, join the party.”

I nodded, still dazed. I was relieved to see that Duncan
had left the saloon. Mauripaulak waved us to a small table. On it sat a shiny machine in a wood case that Peary called a gramophone. It opened up to a spreading horn. Mauripaulak turned a handle, then set a little arm on a spinning disc to make the sound. Bag of Bones stood beside Mauripaulak and frowned. If I hadn’t seen one of these
qallunaaq
machines before, I would have wondered, too.

“It doesn’t have bad power,” I reminded Angulluk. “It can’t harm your spirit.” He nodded.

The gramophone sang out the
qallunaat
’s nonsensical words: “
You’ll look sweet upon the seat …
”

Marie came up to us. The machine had stopped and she turned the handle and moved the switch to start it again. When it ran down, she asked Angulluk to do it. He grasped the handle, testing it at first, then wound smoothly.

Mauripaulak took my hands and spun me around in a dance. Afterward he danced with Marie. The song on the gramophone ended and Marie showed Tooth Girl how to turn the handle. But Tooth Girl turned it so fast, Marie had to hold her hand.

Peary entered the saloon, and Marie dashed through the crowd to her father. The strange music came to a halt. Sailors got up from a table to make room for Peary, Mitti Peary, and me. Captain Bartlett took a seat with us. Grease Beard also joined the table. He lit his pipe.

Marie climbed onto Peary’s lap. She pressed her face against her father’s and played with his long mustache. I’d
never seen her so happy. She kissed him on the cheeks again and again.

On the far side of the room, the gramophone started up. Bag of Bones was working it carefully. The same song played once more.

Ally, Sammy, and Piugaattoq crowded in on the floor near our feet. More villagers pushed close.

Peary wet a biscuit in the tea, took a bite, and began to tell about his travels. Mostly, he spoke to Mitti Peary, who gazed at him lovingly. From time to time, she shook her head in disbelief.

He talked about his two attempts to reach the North Pole since he’d last seen his wife. “After the first time, I lost my toes. Both times I’d been stopped by blizzards and had to turn back.” For these trips, he’d chosen the northern tip of Ellesmere Land as his starting point for venturing out on the sea ice. So he’d claimed Fort Conger as a good wintering spot. He related how my group had found him but said little about my fall through the ice and my frostbite.

The gramophone kept playing. Captain Bartlett described how he’d waited for Peary longer than was safe before sailing for Payer Harbor, then found a big iceberg blocking the way out.

Mitti Peary sighed. “It’s been a long winter here, too, Bert. Especially without you.”

“We’ve survived by using many of the supplies that were meant for your expedition,” Captain Bartlett put in.

“We used all the new guns and ammunition trading with the Eskimos,” Mitti Peary said. “I had them hunt for us and sent them out twice to look for you. The first time they spent their time tracking a polar bear.”

She could only think of herself!

“You did all the right things, my love,” Peary said, squeezing her gloved hand. “All is well. We’re safe, and the ship seems to be in fine shape.”

“So far, I’m not aware of any major damage,” Captain Bartlett added. “I see no reason why we can’t set sail this summer.” He put down his pipe. “Are you planning to come home with us, Lieutenant Peary?”

The air grew still as we waited for Peary to answer. The gramophone played the same song over and over.

Peary looked at Mitti Peary when he spoke. “We’ll see how the ship is when the ice melts. We’ll see if I have enough oil to last me another year. I’ll decide after that.”

Mitti Peary turned pale. Peary gave a tiny smile. He stroked her cheek, but she didn’t respond.

“You’re coming home with us when the ship breaks free, aren’t you, Daddy?” Marie said.

“We’ll see,” he said.

The realization that he might stay swept over her like the roar of an iceberg turning over. “Dad, you must sail with us! You’ve been gone for
years
. We’ve come all this way for you!”

When he didn’t answer, Marie got down off his lap. “Mother. Make Dad know he has to come home.”

“No one is leaving anywhere for quite a while. Let’s not talk about it now.” Mitti Peary’s voice was low.

Ally saw her chance to get Peary’s attention. With Marie no longer on Peary’s lap, she lifted Sammy to him.

Mitti Peary sniffed. “We’ve gotten to know each other, Ally and I,” she said with an edge. “She made Marie’s
kapatak
.”

Sammy grabbed Peary’s mustache. “Look how he remembers his father,” Ally said.

I was shocked that she said this—in front of everyone. Was she testing Peary?

Mitti Peary glared at Ally. Marie looked stunned, as if she might burst into tears. Then Peary offered Ally a sad smile and passed Sammy back to her. I could tell he wanted to hold Sammy, but not in front of Mitti Peary.

Ally studied Peary. She was hurt but held her chin up. “Sammy will be a great hunter, and a great leader like his father.”

Mitti Peary looked away. “Marie, darling,” she said. “Tell Matt we must have a rest with the music. Tell him it’s time we put away the gramophone.”

For one moment, Peary looked like I’d never seen him before—uncertain. Perhaps he lived between two worlds as I did. He had a
qallunaaq
wife and Ally, whom I believed he loved very much.

But a moment later, Peary’s face relaxed. “Come with me, Captain. Let’s measure the condition of the ice.”

How calmly he left the room! I could learn something
from Peary. He was selfish and often used my people for his own ambitions, but he could take command of himself. He knew how to make the whole world his home. Was that the strength and freedom old Navarana had wished for me?

It was time to be myself. Hold strong.

The next morning, in our igloo, Angulluk gave my arm a hard yank. “Eqariusaq! You went off with Duncan without my permission!”

“Fat One! That was a long time ago. Well before our journey.” Then, playfully, “Go ahead, show me you’re my husband, make me yours again.” And he did show me, happily. But then he squeezed my wrist so tightly I cried. “Let go! You’re hurting me.”

He’d changed our unspoken rule: we did not fight during lovemaking.

I saw in his eyes calculation, mixed with triumph. Finally, he released his grip and I pulled away.

Now I know I want to find another husband
, I thought, but I could not say it. Later, when dressed and outside, I’d say the words.

As I heated broth over the oil lamp in my cooking pot, Angulluk and I looked at each other silently, more in sadness than in anger. To make things better between us, I almost wanted to accompany him hunting that morning, to watch for seals at the blowholes, as my mother had often done for my father. But he left by himself.

Outside I heard Mitti Peary’s shrill voice, mixing with her husband’s deeper tones. If it had been Peary alone, I might have gone to meet him. Staring at the fire, I wrapped my arms around my chest, tried to make myself invisible, and waited for Mitti Peary to pass by and bring her wants elsewhere.

Peary loved conversation and visiting. I could hear him asking how our people fared, congratulating them for surviving the winter so well.

At long last, the talking moved on. Blissful silence. I crawled out the entrance tunnel and walked through the village. It was a sunny day, one of the first of late winter, so it was natural that all the villagers had dispersed, to set traps, hunt seals, or explore the soggy, awakening landscape. Few of us, it seemed, had any skins for sewing; it was still too early in the season to have enough to make our new summer clothes. But I knew I must do something.

I decided to practice using my feet again by hiking to the valley, the only land free of snowdrifts, and perhaps to the hills beyond. I’d follow the well-trodden paths, and not only would I get away from the Fat One for the day and prevent myself from getting riled up, I’d check on our three traps from the previous season. The foxes had their thickest fur at this time of the year. Wouldn’t I enjoy having a beautiful fox fur
kapatak
for next winter? The plan for the day formed, like a seed, growing.

First my gaze, as always, went to the beach and the
rippling salty gray ice beyond it, where the
Windward
rose like a great pile of giant bones. Duncan would be mopping the deck right now, repairing the rigging, or washing the sails—sails that would carry the ship, and my Duncan, from me forever. Or was it possible that the ship, broken in ways that could not be seen, would never cross the ocean again?

Part of me hoped that Duncan would be forced to stay for as long as possible.

Not far from shore, the Fat One moved gracefully on the ice. Despite all that had happened today, I found myself wondering if his boots, ones I’d lovingly sewn and decorated with cuffs of young seal fur, were keeping out water.

Don’t turn around and notice me
, I thought. He didn’t, or pretended not to.

The beach was empty except for three hunters patching kayaks. I approached them and asked, “Have you seen Peary?”

“He and his wife went up into the hills,” one man said.

From the icy sun-filled landscape that stretched out around the
Windward
, there came a familiar small green figure, yanked forward by Cin on a leash. Cin carried something in her mouth: a white man’s shoe.

“Billy Bah!” Marie said, rushing toward me. Her eyes were red; she’d been crying. “I’ve run away from my parents! I’ve come to live with you.”

“What? Tell me what’s happening.”

Marie kicked at one of the brown-gray patches of melting snow that still lay on the shore. I untied Cin, who was thrashing about in need of exercise, and I threw the shoe across the ice for her to fetch.

“Billy Bah,” Marie said crossly, “you ought to keep Cin on her lead. Otherwise she’ll run off and—”

“I’d catch her and teach her to behave.”

“You
wouldn’t
hit her, Billy Bah!”

“Only if she disobeyed me.”

I whistled. Cin ran toward me, shoe in mouth, and brushed against my leg. I stroked her head.

Marie looked at me, surprised. “You can make dogs obey, just like Dad.”

I tossed the shoe, farther this time, and Cin retrieved it. “Tell me why you’re running away from your parents.”

“Mother says I’m going to America with her when the ice melts. I won’t go! I want to stay with Dad.”

“Your place is with your mother,” I said.