An Alaskan Midnight

Chapter 10

The next morning, Eddy woke up early -- even before his friend, who was a morning bird. He found a sheet of paper and pen to write to Lucy about what had happened.

Then he realized, he and Brett had slept since the afternoon before! He looked out the window to see if the sun was out. Although they weren't in the Arctic Circle and got some sun, they certainly got much less in winter than in summer. It had already risen, an indication it was well in the morning and would soon be afternoon again.

"Hey Brett," he whispered, placing his hand on his shoulder.

Brett turned his face into the couch and groaned.

"Brett, it's almost afternoon."
Brett opened his eyes, struggling to focus from his grogginess and impaired vision. "Does it really matter?" Brett whispered in the most distressed, hopeless voice. Eddy wanted to hug and comfort him, but he didn't want to risk losing the little comradery they had from being overbearing. "We can't do anything, all we can do is hope we have enough firewood and food to survive the winter."

For a while the two of them just sat there, completely despondent and in a daze. Brett hadn't even put on his glasses. 

Then Eddy stood up again. "We should probably get breakfast."
Brett continued to sit there lifelessly. Eddy just walked into the kitchen, taking some of the salted fish, water, and dried vegetables. How hard could this be?

Then he remembered, the electricity wasn't working. The stove wouldn't work. He winced at the thought of eating not only salty, dry fish, but also salty, dry, raw fish. He liked raw fish in sushi, but dry and salty didn't seem to work with raw.

Eddy was right. Even though he tried to rehydrate it with water, the texture was still awful. Finally giving up, he put the fish on the plate, hoping Brett wouldn't be too frustrated. 

"Hey Brett," he whispered, seeing that his friend was still staring off into space. "I, um, I tried to make us breakfast, but since we don't have electricity, I uh, had to keep it raw..." He set the plate in front of Brett. 

For a moment, Brett smiled, much to Eddy's comfort. "It's alright, we can use the fire once we start it up."
Eddy wrinkled his nose. "But won't that make it even drier?"
Brett smiled again. "We have some foil wrap in the cabinet, just wrap the fish with it and put it in the fireplace right next to the fire. You can even put some water in with the fish to keep it moist."

Eddy nodded, but inside he was nervous. He hardly even knew how to use a lighter, much less cook with an open fire he had started.

He brought some wood into the livingroom, glancing at Brett still sitting on the couch. He hoped Brett would soon take the hint that he had no idea what he was doing. He took some of the wood and randomly threw it in.

Brett jumped up. "No, don't put the firewood in like that." Carefully he rearranged the wood, making the larger ones at the bottom and the taller at the top, stacked carefully in a criss-crossed fashion to ensure there was space between each log. "To make sure there's air in between so all the logs burn," he explained. 

In the meantime, Eddy had wrapped the fish in the foil, trying to be somewhat useful. Brett lit the fire. Then he just waited.

"What are you doing?" Eddy asked.

"Just waiting until the fire mellows out a little so the fish is easier to cook," he explained.

After waiting until the fire had almost completely died down, he motioned towards Eddy. "Put the fish in."
Nervously Eddy set them in, afraid of burning his fingers. His hands shook a little as he moved his hand closer to the warm, flickering flames. He dropped them in like a hot potato and jumped back.

Brett laughed. "You'll sure have fun getting used to this, we're gonna be cooking fish like this for a while." For a moment, Eddy thought he was being condescending. But an arm wrapped around his shoulder told him otherwise. "You have learned a lot Eddy. You're doing very well."
It took everything to keep Eddy from flushing and crying. But he knew Brett didn't like emotional responses. So he just smiled, responding with a simple "Thank you, I appreciate your patience with me."