started. To judge by their dress, most of the airline passengers were heading to points south — far south. At one American gate, a large group of middle-aged husbands and wives were wearing Hawaiian shirts and straw hats. They were camped out, sleeping, reading, playing cards, hunkering down for the long wait.
Josh found a bank of telephones by the restrooms. A tall uniformed policeman was on the phone in the booth next to him. Josh dialed information and got Linda Carlson's number in Healy. He used his phone card to call her; Linda answered on the first ring. She was glad to hear from him, but it turned out she had already called Myron at the condo — she'd been worried the moment she'd heard the weather had turned. Myron still had no word from them, but had promised to call as soon as he did. Linda sounded anxious, and a little bit guilty.
"Kris didn't want to go," she said. "I'm afraid I kind of pushed her into it."
"No, it's my fault," Josh said. "I got her excited about the new headpiece, then dangled it in front of her like a carrot."
"Josh... The headpiece is great, but I don't think that's what she was excited about."
Josh didn't say anything for a moment. "Kris is... She's a terrific girl, Mrs. Carlson. It's driving me crazy not knowing if she's okay."
"Me too, Josh. Me too."
Josh told her about the radio receiver in Kris's parka, and about his plan to go on an air search as soon as the runways opened. Linda was grateful, and even a little relieved, but when Josh hung up, he felt even more troubled than he had before he'd called.
Kris went on the trip because she wanted to see me, he thought. He felt a tightening in his chest, an uneasy mingling of tenderness, anxiety, and longing. He had known Kris for over a year, but until now he hadn't realized how strong his feelings were for her.
"They went down near Caribou Mountain," said the policeman into the telephone next to him. "They know at least one of 'em's alive."
Josh was suddenly all ears. Caribou Mountain was north off the Dalton Highway, halfway up the winding road to the Summit Mountain condo.
"It's my job, Nikki, it's what I do!" the cop shouted. Then he cringed, held the phone away from his ear for a moment; Josh noticed he wore a thick, shiny wedding band.
"I know they can't go up yet, but that don't mean I can leave. I gotta be here when they bring 'em in." The cop covered the mouthpiece and cranked his neck to watch a bare-waisted blonde in a tied-up Hawaiian shirt waggle by. He noticed Josh looking at him. Josh pretended to make another phone call.
"I'm listening," the cop said, spinning back around.
Josh heard a dial tone in one ear and the policeman's conversation in the other. "It ain't a good night for planes goin' out, Nik, but that don't make it any better for Christmas shoppin'." Finally the man mumbled something and hung up the phone. He hadn't given in, but he clearly hadn't won anything, either.
"Excuse me — Officer?" Josh followed him down the corridor. "I couldn't help overhearing you mention Caribou Mountain. Did you say a plane went down?
"That's right," he said.
"So they'll be sending search planes out then?" Josh figured they'd probably release search planes long before they'd open up the airport to general traffic.
"That's the plan," said the officer. He was heading toward his partner, a short squat man standing down the corridor watching people walk by.
"I've got some friends who are stranded up that way," said Josh. "If I could join the search party, I might be able to look for them and help find that downed plane at the same time. Is there someone in charge I could talk to about that?"
"I reckon that'd be the Chief," said the lanky officer. "Chief Adashek. He's over in the Tower."
"Oh," said Josh, suddenly disheartened. He knew they didn't allow pilots into the Tower without prior permission from air traffic control. "You wouldn't be heading over that way anytime soon, would you?" he asked solicitously.
"Not
Josh found a bank of telephones by the restrooms. A tall uniformed policeman was on the phone in the booth next to him. Josh dialed information and got Linda Carlson's number in Healy. He used his phone card to call her; Linda answered on the first ring. She was glad to hear from him, but it turned out she had already called Myron at the condo — she'd been worried the moment she'd heard the weather had turned. Myron still had no word from them, but had promised to call as soon as he did. Linda sounded anxious, and a little bit guilty.
"Kris didn't want to go," she said. "I'm afraid I kind of pushed her into it."
"No, it's my fault," Josh said. "I got her excited about the new headpiece, then dangled it in front of her like a carrot."
"Josh... The headpiece is great, but I don't think that's what she was excited about."
Josh didn't say anything for a moment. "Kris is... She's a terrific girl, Mrs. Carlson. It's driving me crazy not knowing if she's okay."
"Me too, Josh. Me too."
Josh told her about the radio receiver in Kris's parka, and about his plan to go on an air search as soon as the runways opened. Linda was grateful, and even a little relieved, but when Josh hung up, he felt even more troubled than he had before he'd called.
Kris went on the trip because she wanted to see me, he thought. He felt a tightening in his chest, an uneasy mingling of tenderness, anxiety, and longing. He had known Kris for over a year, but until now he hadn't realized how strong his feelings were for her.
"They went down near Caribou Mountain," said the policeman into the telephone next to him. "They know at least one of 'em's alive."
Josh was suddenly all ears. Caribou Mountain was north off the Dalton Highway, halfway up the winding road to the Summit Mountain condo.
"It's my job, Nikki, it's what I do!" the cop shouted. Then he cringed, held the phone away from his ear for a moment; Josh noticed he wore a thick, shiny wedding band.
"I know they can't go up yet, but that don't mean I can leave. I gotta be here when they bring 'em in." The cop covered the mouthpiece and cranked his neck to watch a bare-waisted blonde in a tied-up Hawaiian shirt waggle by. He noticed Josh looking at him. Josh pretended to make another phone call.
"I'm listening," the cop said, spinning back around.
Josh heard a dial tone in one ear and the policeman's conversation in the other. "It ain't a good night for planes goin' out, Nik, but that don't make it any better for Christmas shoppin'." Finally the man mumbled something and hung up the phone. He hadn't given in, but he clearly hadn't won anything, either.
"Excuse me — Officer?" Josh followed him down the corridor. "I couldn't help overhearing you mention Caribou Mountain. Did you say a plane went down?
"That's right," he said.
"So they'll be sending search planes out then?" Josh figured they'd probably release search planes long before they'd open up the airport to general traffic.
"That's the plan," said the officer. He was heading toward his partner, a short squat man standing down the corridor watching people walk by.
"I've got some friends who are stranded up that way," said Josh. "If I could join the search party, I might be able to look for them and help find that downed plane at the same time. Is there someone in charge I could talk to about that?"
"I reckon that'd be the Chief," said the lanky officer. "Chief Adashek. He's over in the Tower."
"Oh," said Josh, suddenly disheartened. He knew they didn't allow pilots into the Tower without prior permission from air traffic control. "You wouldn't be heading over that way anytime soon, would you?" he asked solicitously.
"Not
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