It was an item on his bucket list. She was just a passenger
along for the ride. He was travelling to the States for work and wanted to
extend the trip to take advantage of the great Aurora season.
“But it’s the best
time of the month. And the best time of the year. We’d be in one of the best
spots on earth to see it.” he debated his points vehemently. “It’d be a shame
not go. We’ll go to Vancouver first for a few days to acclimatise,
then on to Whitehorse in the Yukon. And, I promise, we’ll go to Hawaii afterwards for a week.
Let’s call it ‘The Fire and Ice Tour’?”
She nodded and even smiled at his enthusiasm. He was a
completely different person when he was like this. This child-like enthusiasm
was one of the first things she had liked when she met him.
She’d been out with a
girlfriend for dinner when her friend’s boyfriend turned up at the bar. They
chatted briefly when he announced that he was off to a buck’s night at a strip
club.
“Why don’t you ladies join me?” the boyfriend proposed with
a cheeky grin.
“Go on, I’ve never been and I’ve always wondered what
they’re really like” she convinced her friend, the wines and cocktails no doubt
massaging their decision.
So minutes later they were in a taxi on their way to a strip
club. Feeling quite excited by their libertine actions, the girls smiled
broadly as they escorted the boyfriend in. And that’s where they
met -at a buck’s party in a strip club. When people asked how they met, they’d tag-team
through the anecdote smiling as each took their turn. She never quite knew if
people were somehow commenting on their obviously divergent lifestyles or just
naturally curious.
Things were light and fun to begin with. They knew they had
their differences. She had kids and lived in the suburbs. He lived in the city
and didn’t want any kids of his own. He’d lived alone for eight years. She’d
dated for the last five. They had a great time together going out with friends
for dinner, drinks and parties. She long ago learnt not to bother planning a
future too firmly as things never worked out that way. The only thing he
planned ahead was holidays. She loved getting away though always looked forward
to returning home. He put off returning to reality as long as he could.
Before they left Australia, she organised a joint counselling
session. It was at her insistence. He couldn’t see any problem. She didn’t want
things to go on like this. Stepping out of the dark cool counsellor’s office,
she took his hand in hers and they both hid in the shade of the building while
waiting for the pedestrian lights to change.
“So..” she coolly said ”should we go grab something to eat?”
“I’m not really hungry. Had a late lunch” he replied curtly
as though his quota of words had been used up during the previous hour. He
didn’t look at her but stared straight ahead wishing the lights to change by
the sheer force of his will.
Lower back aching from sitting, she shifted her weight on
her feet and looked down at the concrete footpath and noticed the speckles of
rock shimmering in the afternoon sun, radiating heat up at them.
“We should organise the snow gear when we get back anyway”
he reminded himself as much as her.
She knew when they got back to his apartment the chance to
discuss how this first session had gone would be lost. She really liked their
counsellor, Troy, with his purple checked shirt matching his purple socks.
“I think he’s gay, you know” she threw him a nibble hoping
he’d comment and she could lead him on to further conversation. He didn’t bite.
She carried on anyway. She was usually the one to lead things.
“Well I thought for a getting-to-know-you, housekeeping kind
of session that went okay” she half asked as she let go of his hand and turned
her body to face him, breaking his stare.
“Yeah I guess so” he admitted and leaned in for a peck of a
kiss to seal the point. “We could get some take away noodles from the place
downstairs if you like”
She clasped his hand again as they crossed the road towards
his bright yellow Korean sports car. She didn’t love the car. He did. He’d had
a plain black station wagon when they first starting going out. She had liked
its anonymity.
“Short, tubby, balding man in a loud sports car. No clichés
there.. At least, you can always find it in the car park” she reluctantly
reminded herself as they approached.
It was only recently that things had started to turn sour.
It was the little things. It usually is. He wanted to go out and some nights
she wanted to stay in. She worked weekends. On Friday nights, he’d start
drinking the moment he arrived home from work even when they had a big night
out planned. His glass would never empty and he’d put on dance music so loud
that the neighbours started to complain.
“It’s my Friday night” he said.”I can do what I like. I like
a drink before I go out”
“to go out for more drinks “ she would say under her breath.
Usually she gave in and
went out, dressed in a new favourite party dress, low cut at the front just how
he liked it. It was only when they were at the club that he became sullen. His
chin inches from a drink; he’d look over the glass watching her. She loved the
chance to meet new people or catch up with old friends. Middle suburban mum
during the week, this was her chance to transform.
She smiled. People bought her drinks and admired her
outfits. She preened and spun for her admirers, laughing all the while. He
leaned against the bar in the corner and scowled. Occasionally he tried the same
act but he came off more inebriated bumblebee than social butterfly. That was when his
sulking would really kick in. How come she got the attention and he didn’t. He
tried flirting with other women. Many times, people would ask her what he was
on. Once his dance moves were enthusiastic and earnest. Now she just felt pity.
Watching the frozen world of Whitehorse go pass her fogged
up taxi window, she sees a paddleboat stuck in the frozen Klondike River.
Klondike was a name she’d heard of but without context, it had meant nothing.
Stuck in winter ice, the historical wooden boat hadn’t gone anywhere in a long
time and wasn’t going anywhere soon. Minus 21 degrees was going to be colder
than she was used to or in fact had ever felt before. He had measured them up
and organised the snow gear complete with boots to be there waiting for them.
Trying on the snow gear at the hotel on arrival, she
couldn’t believe how ridiculous she felt in it. She never fitted into standard
clothes easily. She was short and what was politely termed curvaceous. The
jacket sleeves reached down passed her knees and the legs were bunched up over
her boots so she found it difficult to walk. Of course, out there, there wouldn’t
really be anything to walk to.
“How come it’s so
long in the arms and legs? Are you sure this is mine?” she felt hobbled at how
little she could move in the padded jacket and pants.
His gear fit fine of course. She felt like an overgrown
child learning to walk again.
“There’s no way I’m going out like this” she said
Plentiful supplies of booze and food were purchased from
town to see them through their five days at the cabin. Dropped off by a large
SUV, it would return almost a week later to pick them up. Far from any
neighbours, they had their phones in case of emergencies. Deep wide tyre tracks
were all that was left as the truck disappeared through the black, spiky
forest. Expanses of endless white fields merged with the snow covered mountain
ranges in the far distance. Soft pinks and lilacs filled the sky as the sun set
on their first evening in the log cabin.
Retreating inside, he poured liberal amounts of wine whilst
she put out a platter of cheese, meats and bread to nibble on, their wet snow
gear draped across the simple wooden chairs in their tiny cabin. No stereo system to fill the silence, they
resorted to cable TV as their soundtrack for the evening. Food Network shows on
repeat would amuse at first, only to grate in the coming days. Outside the
darkness rolled in, blanketing the sparse forest surrounding their quaint
little cabin.
Naturally the best viewing hours for the Aurora Borealis
would be in the middle of the night. She said that she’d turn in and he
promised to wake her if there was anything to see. Solar flares had been active
these last few days so things looked promising. The wine bottle clanked in the
sink as he reached for a second one. Lights were turned off and he methodically
donned his snow gear before stepping out into the black moon-less night. He sat
in his chair and hunkered down to wait and watch.
She tossed and turned on the too firm bed. She stretched out
to use its full width. Her mind tossed and turned also as she thought back over
the last few days. Busy with the machinations of travel and organising her
parents to stay with her children, they’d not fought or discussed their
counselling session the previous week. She didn’t know if this was a promising
sign or not. Unable to easily drift into slumber land thanks to her active
mind, she put on her snow boots by the door and threw a thick warm blanket
around her. One step into the dry crunchy snow and despite her layers she feels
too exposed.
“Anything yet?” she
asks, knowing the answer would be negative. He shakes his head as he looks up
at her. She sits on the edge of his chair, his arms not moving to make any more
room for her. He fills his glass with more wine but offers her none. It’s that
kind of quiet that is deafening in its heavy solid silence.
“I don’t blame them. I wouldn’t be out there either” she
thinks when she realises she can’t hear the sounds of any wildlife. She stays
only a few minutes and turns to go inside the sanctuary of the lighted warm
cabin when she can bear the frigidity no longer. “Too cold. Too quiet. Too
still.” she thinks.
Peeling off her layers and climbing back into bed, she
thinks “at least there shouldn’t be any tantrums tonight”. Those nights they
would return to his place after too many drinks at a club and he would start
in. All she would want to do is sleep and all he would do is rage at her for
her lack of attention. It seemed he would rather wait until things had gone too
far before he said anything. She never knew when a night was going to turn on
its head. She never saw any warning signs. At least with her children, she’d
learnt to recognise the tells..
She only realises that she was asleep when he shouts from the
open door “Come quickly!” Groggy, she
puts on her thick puffy jacket, grabs a scarf and beanie and threads her feet
into the boots just inside the door. Switching the light off to enhance the view,
she walks away from the veranda to maximise the view of the sky. Turning this
way and that, she’s not sure exactly what she’s looking for. She’s seen photos
of the Northern lights and knows they’re large wispy green waves of light. Do
they move? Do they only last momentarily like lightning? There are some stories
she’d read about eerie noises accompanying the lights. She can’t see anything.
She can’t hear anything.
At last, he has put down his glass and takes her shoulders
in his hands. He turns her slightly and points low towards the horizon. “There”
he says quietly. Leaning against him, he rests his cold chin on her bed-warmed
hair and without speaking they watch the ribbons of pale green light dance
languidly in the sky. In the morning he will excitedly show her his photos of
the evening and all she can think is – “sometimes the picture looks better than
the reality.”
