The Great Alone
“Damn it to hell,” the judge said, banging his gavel. “What’s going on here? We are arraigning this young woman on serious criminal charges—”
Large Marge extricated herself from the hug and pushed Leni back down into the chair. “Goddamn it, John, this proceeding is what’s criminal.” Marge strode up to the judge’s bench, her boots squeaking at every step. “This girl is innocent of everything and Whack Job Ward coerced a confession out of her. And for what? Rendering criminal assistance? Accessory after the fact? Good God. She didn’t kill her piece-of-shit old man, she just ran when her terrified mother told her to. She was eighteen years old with an abusive dad. Who wouldn’t run?”
The judge slammed his mallet on the desk. “Marge, you got a mouth on you like a king salmon. Now shut up. This is my courtroom. And this is just a damned arraignment, not a trial. You can present your evidence when it’s time.”
Large Marge turned to face the prosecutor. “Drop the damn charges, Adrian. Unless you want to spend the last days of the season in court. Everyone in Kaneq—and probably on the pipeline—knew Ernt Allbright was abusive. I will bring an endless stream of folks to testify on this girl’s behalf. Starting with Tom Walker.”
“Tom Walker?” the judge said.
Large Marge faced the judge again, crossed her arms in a way that communicated a settling-in, a willingness to stand here all day arguing her point. “That’s right.”
The judge glanced over at the skinny prosecutor. “Adrian?”
The prosecutor looked down at the papers spread out in front of him. He tapped a pen on the desk. “I don’t know, Your Honor…”
The courtroom door opened. The woman from the front desk at the police station walked through. She was nervously smoothing her pant leg. “Your Honor?” she said.
“What is it, Marci?” the judge boomed. “We’re busy here.”
“The governor is on the line. He wants to talk to you. Right now.”
* * *
ONE MINUTE, Leni was standing beside her lawyer at the desk in the courtroom, and the next thing she knew, she was leaving the police station.
Outside, she saw Large Marge standing beside a pickup truck.
“What happened?” Leni asked.
Large Marge took Leni’s suitcase and tossed it into the rusted bed of the pickup. “Alaska isn’t so different as everyplace else. It helps to have friends in high places. Tommy called the governor, who got the charges dropped.” She touched Leni’s shoulder. “It’s over, kiddo.”
“Only part of it,” Leni said. “There’s more.”
“Yeah. Tom wants you to come to the homestead. He’ll take you to see Matthew.”
Leni couldn’t let herself think about that yet. She walked around to the passenger side of the pickup and climbed up into the blanket-covered bench seat.
Large Marge stepped up into the driver’s seat, settling her bulk with a shimmying motion. When she started the engine, the radio came on.
Another little piece of my heart now, baby came growling through the speaker. Leni closed her eyes.
“You look fragile, kiddo,” Large Marge said.
“Hard not to be.” She thought about asking Large Marge about Matthew, but honestly, Leni felt as if the smallest thing could break her. So she stared out the window instead.
As they drove down to the dock, Leni couldn’t help but stare in awe at the magical drizzle of light. The world seemed illuminated from within, fantastical colors bold and gilded, knife peaks of snow and rock, vibrantly green grass, blue sea.
The docks were full of fishing boats and noise. Seabirds cawing; engines growling, puffing black smoke into the air; otters gliding in the water between boats, chattering.
They boarded Large Marge’s red fishing boat—the Fair Chase—and sped across a calm blue Kachemak Bay, toward the soaring white mountains. Leni had to shield her eyes from the glare of sunlight on the water, but there was no way to shield her heart. Memories came at her from all sides. She remembered seeing these mountains for the first time. Had she known then how Alaska would take hold of her? Shape her? She didn’t know, couldn’t remember. It all felt like a lifetime ago.
They rounded the tip of Sadie Cove and ducked in between two green, humped islands, their shorelines littered with silvery driftwood and kelp and pebbles. The boat slowed and motored around the rock breakwater.
Leni got her first glimpse of Kaneq Harbor and the town set on stilts above it. They tied down the boat and walked up the gangplank toward the chain-link fence that created the entrance to the harbor from town. She didn’t think Large Marge had said anything, but Leni couldn’t really be sure. All she could hear was her own body, coming alive again in this place that would always define her—her heart beating, her lungs drawing breath, her footsteps on the gravel of Main Street.
Kaneq had grown in the past years. The clapboard-fronted storefronts were painted bright colors, like pictures she’d seen of fjord-side towns in Scandinavia. The boardwalk that connected everything looked brand-new. Streetlamps stood like sentinels, planters full of geraniums and petunias hung from their iron arms. Off to her left was the General Store, expanded to twice its original size, with a new red door. The street boasted one shop after another: the Snackle Shop, the diner, the yarn shop, souvenir places, ice-cream stands, outfitters, guides, kayak rentals, and the new Malamute Saloon and Geneva Inn, which boasted a giant white rack of antlers above the door.
She remembered their first day here, with Mama in her new hiking boots and a frothy peasant blouse, saying, I’m a little suspicious of people who use dead animals in their decorating.