American Girl

Alaska

"Alasie, Alasie," the soft voice whispered in the night. The Inuit girl rolled over in her polar bear blanket and dismissed the haunting summons. A dream, she thought. She often dreamed in the night.

"Come to me, Alasie," the voice beckoned.

"Aanaa?" Alasie Kulluk questioned, throwing away the covers. She hadn't thought about her grandmother since she was a little girl. The old woman joined the ancestors long ago when Alasie was five years old. Although she remembered her Aanaa fondly, too many years had passed for her to recall much about her.

Slipping into her anorak and mukluks, Alasie ducked out of the Kulluk igloo without disturbing her father. The cold night air struck her, and she shivered. Still, she obeyed the voice and, leaving the village, mounted the high plateau to the north. She stood alone in the dark, waiting for her grandmother to call again.

The minutes began to pass. Alasie decided the voice was a dream after all. She began to turn toward home when a turquoise flare appeared in the sky. It swirled majestically, and a purple streak flashed through it.

"Aura Borealis," Alasie whispered in awe. The moment she spoke, she felt herself encapsulated in the intense colors. All her senses instantly awoke, bringing her immediately alive.

"Alasie," her grandmother's voice called from deep within the northern lights.

"Aanaa?" The girl turned a full circle, searching for the source of the voice.

"I am here, child. I am all around you."

Alasie stood amongst the colors, comforted by them. Her grandmother's presence surrounded her. A warm, musky scent wafted through the air. Although she hadn't seen or thought of her elder in years, it stirred a memory deep inside her. Once again, she was five years old, and her grandmother was alive, sitting beneath her sealskin blanket in the Kulluk igloo.

"Why did you call me Aanaa?" Alasie asked the Aura.

"Remember what I told you about Aura Borealis?" the disembodied voice asked. "When my soul left the earth, it became part of the Aura. I am here, always, dancing with the spirits of our ancestors. You will find me when you gaze into the lights."

"Yes, Aanaa, I remember," Alasie answered, searching the lights for her grandmother's form. "Why do you speak to me now? What is it? What's going to happen?"

Alasie took a fearful step backward. The spirits often used the Aura Borealis to pass messages to the living, usually warnings against an upcoming tragedy. Glancing over her shoulder, the girl contemplated fleeing back to her warm igloo.

"Alasie." The sound of her grandmother's voice called her back to the Aura. The colors shimmered momentarily, then the old woman stepped forward. She stretched out her arms, welcoming her granddaughter.

"What is your message, Aanaa?" Alasie asked, her feet gliding over the snow. When she came face to face with the spirit, she stopped.

"Your father, my son, is in grave danger," the grandmother stated. "He must not go after the whale tomorrow."

Blood drained from Alasie's face. Fear encased her every time Akiak Kulluk took out his kayak. Along with the other village men, he hunted the whale. Grinning widely, he tried to calm his daughter's fears. He claimed the whale couldn't outsmart him, drawing her close in a bear hug. Nothing should worry her or cause alarm.

"You must stop him, Alasie," the grandmother-spirit implored.

"Yes, Aanaa," the girl agreed, her eyes growing wide with fear.

Bowing her head, the filmy figure disappeared into a purple swirl. The colors continued to pulsate and glow in the night sky. Alasie watched them for a moment before turning toward home. She ran along the plateau, a lone figure in the light-blazing night. She glanced back at the igloo door and saw her grandmother watching her.