For What He Could Become Page 12

  There were a lot of questions asked about what Bill had done, where he’d gone, whom he’d seen. He had never talked so much in his life, and by the end of the meal felt empty, depleted of stories, like he’d told everything he knew and was now free to fill that void with new experiences.

  After dinner he got a chance to talk with Herb whom he assumed was living alone now that Verda had moved out.

  “You okay, Herb?”

  “Can’t complain.”

  “What have you been doing?”

  “Working some. Trap a little. Fish a little. Make do.”

  Carl came over and clapped Bill on the shoulder. “Herb here has himself a lodger—paying rent and helping out. Highest-priced room in town.”

  “Who?” Bill asked.

  “Crazy Ted Sheeley,” Carl said. “That guy is gonna dig up the whole town looking for gold. And he smells like a ram in rut. I think when he kills a sheep he rolls in the guts, don’t you?”

  Herb nodded.

  “Is that the guy who dug the hole out on the runway?” Bill asked.

  “That’s him. He thinks a glacier flattened out that place and left gold behind just under the gravel top. You’ll meet him.”

  “I met a lot of crazy people in the army. Why do I have to meet him?”

  “Cause he’s here,” Carl said.

  During the talk that followed, Bill felt like he was seated in the street and the others had left the door open so he could hear but had gone on with their lives, just letting him look in and overhear their conversation.

  Back at Charlie’s place he flopped on the bed, hands behind his head, eyes closed. The door burst open to admit Carl. With him was a man who walked at an angled stance and had on a fox-head hat that blended with his beard.

  Carl said, “This is Ted Sheeley. I told him about you on the way over here.”

  “Evening,” Ted said. “You’re in the army?”

  “Not any more.”

  “They teach you how to dig foxholes?”

  Bill nodded.

  “Good. I need someone to help me dig. Give you shares.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Shares. You know—shares of what we find. I can’t dig enough by myself. We’ll find lots of gold, it’s all over this place. You ever see any?”

  “I don’t believe so.”

  Sheeley was only inches from Bill’s face, and for a minute he didn’t move because it reminded him of the drill instructors at camp. Then he realized he didn’t have to put up with that and stepped back.

  “I know there’s gold in that air strip. You see, a glacier flattened that out when it melted hundreds of years ago and left the gold real close to the surface. The marmots have been digging in it and I’ve panned gold out of their leavings. You get me?”

  Bill nodded.

  “Well, what d’ya say? Are you in?”

  Bill just looked at him.

  “I need help,” Sheeley said. “You ain’t got no work and here you are, young and strong. I got an extra set of digging tools. What d’ya say?

  “I say no for right now. I’ll think about it, but I just got out of the army and I don’t want to go to work right now. Maybe later.”

  Sheeley looked at Carl, then back to Bill. “Fer crying out loud, ain’t there nobody in this village wants to work?” He turned and walked out.

  Carl had a smile on his face and Bill started laughing.

  “Told you he was crazy,” Carl said.

  “He always like that?” Bill said.

  “No—sometimes worse.”

  “He found any gold?”

  “Nobody knows. Claims to—but nobody knows. Sure is good to have you back. Gonna stay?”

  Bill shrugged his shoulders. “I was planning on it, but with every body married and all…I don’t know.”

  “There’s other girls. Some of those younger ones grew up while you were out defending the country.”

  “Like who?”

  “You’ll see them. They’ll be the ones whose sweaters stick out in places they didn’t when you left.”

  They laughed. Bill felt a closeness to Carl he hadn’t felt in many years. It was good to have a brother.

  The mail plane buzzed the village, then flew off to land at the strip. Bill jumped in the pickup with Jack Gould to go meet the plane. As they drove near the river, he saw a quick flash through the trees.

  “Did you see that?” Bill said.

  “Probably Ted Sheeley. He runs when he hears the plane.”

  “Do you think he’s found any gold?”

  “Some say he has and some say he hasn’t,” Jack said. “I ain’t seen any.”

  “How’s he pay Herb rent and buy groceries?”

  “He paid Irem a bunch of money when he first got here and told him to let him know when he’d used it up. I guess he did the same with Herb.”

  The pilot shut down the plane and stood with the mailbag in his hand when they pulled up beside him.

  “I saw that bastard running through the trees,” he said. “Next time I’m gonna gun him down from the air.” He tossed the mail into the pickup. “He’s made three new holes since last week. Doesn’t anyone here have any control over that guy?”

  Jack said, “Ain’t nobody has control over Ted Sheeley.”

  The pilot hitched up his Levi’s. “Anybody goin out?”

  “No,” Jack said.

  “Any outgoing mail?”

  “No.”

  “My gawd—almost wreck my plane and kill myself coming in here to dump a load of twelve letters and a package from L.L. Bean. Listen. If you see this bastard, you tell him I’m bringing a shovel with me next time and I’m gonna fill in every one of those damn holes and then I’m gonna come looking for him and I’m gonna beat his stupid head in with it. Got that?”

  “I’ll mention it to him if I see him.”

  The pilot got into the airplane and slammed the door. In just seconds he was taxiing down the runway, blowing sand and leaves in their faces. When he got to the other end of the runway he turned around and goosed it, lifted up over the holes, did a circle and dove low over the trail by the river. He wouldn’t find Ted that way. Ted was hidden in a bunch of driftwood twenty feet up the bank of the river.

  After the plane was gone, he came running back to the airstrip before they got the pickup moving.

  “What’d he say?” Sheeley asked.

  Jack cut the pickup engine and leaned out the window. “He said he was gonna bring back a shovel and fill the holes and then come looking for you to beat on you with it.”

  Sheeley said, “I need to get my gold out of there before he comes back, then.” He turned to Bill. “You feel like working yet?”

  “No. I need some time off.”

  “Dammit—I gotta get somebody to help me.” He jumped into the air with both feet and landed looking down the runway. “You help me two days and I’ll pay you a hundred dollars.”

  “What do you want me to do?”

  “You just help me dig this runway, and we’ll be over and done before that arrogant bastard sets his plane down here again.”

  He had penetrating eyes, and Bill found it hard to think when they bored in on him that way.

  “Okay”.

  “Good. I got another shovel over in the bushes. I’ll be right back.”

  Jack looked at Bill sideways but didn’t say anything..

  “Well, it won’t hurt me to do some work. And I could use the hundred bucks.”

  Bill dug in the runway area but off the main wheel tracks. He was down about three feet and stacking up the soil for Ted to run through his separator, a device he claimed would separate gold from other minerals and soil. The machine was about four feet tall and had two handles that were operated by human power, each in the opposite direction at the same time.

  They worked through the two days, and Bill didn’t see any gold pile up in the catcher. Ted came to him at the end of the second day and laid it out.

  “Truth to be to
ld, there ain’t much gold in the catcher. I promised you a hundred dollars for two days and I’m a man of my word. Fact is, I gave all my money to Herb for rent and Irem for a food credit and I don’t have a hundred dollars to give you this minute.

  “But I’ll tell you, there’s gold here and we’re gonna find it. If you’ll just stay with me another two days I’ll make you a wealthy man. You’ll walk out of here with a small fortune. I tell ya, it’s just close to where we’re standing this very minute.”

  Bill sighed and tossed down the shovel. “When you get the hundred dollars, you’ll find me at Charlie’s.”

  Charlie looked up when Bill came in. “Through gold mining for the day?”

  Bill peeled off his shirt and walked to the sink. “I’m through with gold mining, period.”

  Charlie snickered.

  Ted burst into the room. “Bill, you gotta think about this again.” He stopped about a foot from his face. Bill put his arm against Ted’s chest and backed him off a couple of feet.

  “Listen to me, Bill. Carl has found gold and we can too—it’s all over the place. I got the Department of Interior geological survey bulletins, and—“

  “What do you mean Carl’s found gold?”

  “I ain’t seen it, but he didn’t trap last year and he didn’t fish either. He paid for chum salmon for his dog food and he lived pretty high on the hog.”

  “So what? Doesn’t mean a thing.” Ted’s smell was overpowering in the cabin, something he hadn’t noticed outside.

  “Will you do it?” Ted said.

  “When you get the hundred dollars, give it to Charlie to hold for me.”

  Ted turned and was out the door so fast Bill couldn’t believe it. How did a big man move like that?

  Bill looked at Charlie, who was staring at his feet.

  “Charlie, What’re you thinking?”

  Charlie raised his head enough to look at Bill.

  “Well, Carl didn’t trap. And he didn’t fish, either. He was gone lots of times for several days. Then he’d go to Fairbanks and come back, and him and Ilene live pretty good. Some people say Herb has found gold too. I don’t know. Nobody knows.”

  Bill woke up the next morning with his mind made up. He didn’t see any gold in the airstrip and he doubted Ted would find any. And he wasn’t about to dig in the ground for weeks helping him look.

  “Charlie,” he said, “I’m going to Anchorage. Find a job. Get straightened around. I might be back, but I gotta get out of here for now. There isn’t anything here for me.”

  “Every place is the same,” Charlie said.

  “No it isn’t, Charlie. The village is the same because nothing has happened to change it, but other places are different.”

  Charlie went to the water bucket and dipped a cup of water.

  “Charlie, you ever been to Anchorage?”

  “I went two times.”

  “It was different, wasn’t it?”

  “Lots of people. Cars. Big buildings.”

  “I mean the feeling of it. The feeling is different, isn’t it?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t remember any different feeling.”

  Bill pulled his duffel out from under the bed and started packing his clothes. He laid out his travel clothes, his uniform, folded it just right and put it under the mattress to press it, then started for the door.

  “I’m going down to the store and check out the plane schedule. Anything you need?”

  Charlie shook his head.

  “You’re not gold diggin today?” Irem said when he walked into the store.

  “Gave that up, Irem. Know when the plane’s coming back?”

  Irem frowned, then walked over to the counter and squinted down his nose at a paper by the cash register. “Says the 24th. Is this the 23rd or the 24th?” He looked at the calendar that featured a Charles Russell painting on top and an ad for David Green Furriers across the bottom. “By golly, it’s today, the 24th.”

  “Thanks.” Bill walked out of the store and down the street to Charlie’s. Charlie had not moved since he left.

  “You feeling okay, Charlie?”

  Charlie nodded.

  “Can you talk to me, Charlie? Tell me how you’re feeling?”

  “I said I’m okay.”

  Bill finished packing. He could feel Charlie’s eyes on his back, and when he finished he undressed and put those clothes in the duffel, reached under the mattress for his uniform and put it on. He set the duffel next to the door and turned to look at Charlie.

  “I’m going now.”

  “Figured you were.”

  He hoisted the duffel by the handle, then looked at Charlie. Maybe his mind was playing tricks but he felt Charlie age right in front of him. Three years and thousands of miles since he left. Sure he was older. Older, stiffer, slower.

  “Goodbye, Charlie.”

  Charlie nodded, his fingers still entwined, elbows on his knees.

  When the airplane buzzed the village, Bill caught a ride with Jack up to the airstrip. The pilot jumped out, handed the mailbag to Jack, and took the village sack in his other hand.

  “Who filled in the holes?” he said.

  Jack and Bill looked at the runway. The holes were gone. Filled in and planted over. You could tell where they’d been, but not unless you were up close.

  Jack said, “Ted Sheeley filled them in so folks wouldn’t know which holes had gold and which ones didn’t.”

  “Did he find any?”

  Jack smiled. “He bought a new Stinson. He’s out flying it now with an instructor from Fairbanks. Said he’s gonna learn how to set it down on land and water.”

  Bill glanced at Jack. He caught a wink when the pilot looked back at the runway.

  “Well, I’ll be damned,” the pilot said. “Anybody goin out?”

  “Bill, here. He’s going out.”

  “Well, okay—let’s get loaded up.” He grabbed Bill’s duffel and put it in through the cargo door.

  “Jack – I’ll see you.”

  “Okay, Bill. Let me know what life is like in the big city. I may come join you.”

  “You’re not old enough.”

  “I’ll be seventeen in November.”

  Bill got in the right front seat and closed the door. The last thing he saw before the plane took off was the filled-in holes, every one he’d dug, small plants jammed into the loose ground on top.

  Seventeen – huh. I was seventeen when I left. I had to have been older than Jack. He smiled and shook his head in pure disbelief.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  “Please have a seat,” she said. “I’m Lavonne, and I’ve been over your application.” She smiled at him, so he smiled back. “You’ve left a lot of areas blank, so I need to ask you some questions.”

  Bill nodded, then said, “Sure.” He looked around the room. Framed certificates hung on one wall; a typewriter and adding machine were on a table behind her desk. On top of the steel file cabinet was a tri-fold picture frame with a guy, a baby, and Lavonne.

  “Mr. Williams, have you ever done construction work before?”

  “No.”

  “What was your military experience?”

  “I was in for three years.”

  “I mean, what was your job description in… the army, is it?”

  “I was a rifleman.”

  “I’m sorry. I don’t know what a rifleman is.”

  “Well…you fire a gun at the enemy.”

  “I see.” She looked down at his application, then looked up and smiled. “Were you good at it?”

  “They made me an non-commissioned officer.”

  She perked up and made a notation on the application. “How long did it take you to become an officer?”

  Bill had to think. Three groups of recruits had come and gone….

  “About a year,” he said.

  “You mean you just started in the army and a year later you were an officer in it?”

  He started to nod but sensed that speaking was bet
ter than nodding with her. “Yes. They made me a corporal.”

  “Will you wait just a minute while I talk to someone about your application?”

  “Yes.”

  Lavonne got up. When she moved past him a fragrance of warm fresh flowers wafted toward his chair. She didn’t touch him when she went by, but she was oh so close. He felt himself stir.

  In a minute she was back.

  “Mr. Williams. We need somebody right away and even though you don’t have any construction experience it appears that you’re a fast learner. We could start you tomorrow at five dollars an hour. You’d be doing general construction, clean-up, and carpenters helper until you picked up the trade—then, of course, your pay and responsibility would go up. If you can learn the construction business as fast as you learned the officer business, you’ll do fine. Would that work for you?”

  “It sure does.”

  “Fine,” she said. “Report in at 7:00 a.m. tomorrow to the North Winds Construction Company—it’s the gray building next to the bridge—and ask for the job foreman. Do you have any questions?”

  “No. Just thanks.”

  Bill found a rooming house and paid up for two weeks, then went out and bought some work clothes at a place called Fifth Avenue Outfitters. He treated himself to a good meal and went back to his room, which had two windows facing the street, a single bed, a nightstand, and a chest of drawers with a mirror on top. He emptied the duffel into the drawers and went to bed early.

  He had no trouble finding North Winds Construction the next morning. The foreman sent him to wait in a room where he was surprised to see another native sitting against the wall near the door. He looked up and smiled as Bill’s eyes settled on him, revealing no bottom teeth. His face looked like he had slept on small-gauge chicken wire all night, and smoke drifted past his eyes from a cigarette between his lips. He reached up his hand and Bill took it.

  “Pull,” he said. Bill pulled him upright. “Hi. George Norton.”