Bristol Bay Summer Read online

  “Bristol Bay Summer made me miss Alaska. Its authentic, wonderfully written story includes the joys and challenges of growing up in the Last Frontier.”

  —Jewel, singer-songwriter, author, and proud native of Homer, Alaska

  “Having spent twenty-three delightful summers in Bristol Bay myself, I’m thrilled that Annie Boochever has written a book that so perfectly captures both the coming of age of a young adult in this uniquely Alaskan setting, but more importantly, provides insights into the profound rich cultural heritage of this fishery. Bristol Bay Summer is a must-read for anyone—young and old alike—wishing to better understand the critical importance of the Bristol Bay salmon fishery to both feeding the world AND feeding the soul!”

  —Sue Aspelund

  “Books about the real Alaska are few and far between. Bristol Bay Summer, the newest addition to the canon, is the real thing. Through the eyes of Alaskan newcomer Zoey Morley, we fall in love with the power and beauty of Bristol Bay and its people. Annie Boochever’s prose is as fierce and elemental as the land itself; her story takes readers to the edge of the cliff and back again.”

  —Debby Dahl Edwardson, National Book Award Finalist and author of Blessing’s Bead and My Name is Not Easy

  “When Zoey’s parents divorce, her dad disappears, and her mom uproots her—twice. She feels angry and alone. Through the hard work of living in a wild part of Alaska, she comes to rely on strengths she never knew she had. She learns compassion for those around her, coming to understand that their lives are at least as difficult as her own. This is a powerful story of a girl becoming a woman, a story of land and sea and artistry.”

  —Peggy Shumaker, Alaska State Writer Laureate 2010–2012

  Bristol Bay

  Summer

  Annie Boochever

  Text © 2014 by Annie Boochever

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission of the publisher.

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Boochever, Annie.

  Bristol Bay summer / by Annie Boochever.

  pages cm

  Summary: “Against the backdrop of the great Bristol Bay salmon fishery, thirteen-year-old Zoey Morley struggles with her parents’ divorce, her mom’s bush-pilot boyfriend, and the pangs of growing up during her summer in the ‘real’ Alaska”— Provided by publisher.

  ISBN 978-0-88240-994-8 (paperback)

  ISBN 978-1-941821-27-5 (hardbound)

  ISBN 978-1-941821-25-1 (e-book)

  [1. Bristol Bay (Alaska)—Fiction. 2. Divorce—Fiction. 3. Self-reliance—

  Fiction.] I. Title.

  PZ7.B64483Br 2014

  [Fic]—dc23

  Edited by Michelle McCann

  Design by Vicki Knapton

  Maps by Ani Rucki

  Front cover photos: salmon © iStock.photo.com/andyKRAKOVSKI; airplane © Ruedi Homberger; chapter opening photo: © iStock.photo.com/eAlisa; back cover photo: © iStock.photo.com/xposedpixel.

  Published by Alaska Northwest Books®

  An imprint of

  P.O. Box 56118

  Portland, Oregon 97238-6118

  503-254-5591

  www.graphicartsbooks.com

  To my children

  Liorah, Zachary, Megan, and Spencer,

  who steady the boat when the wind kicks up.

  Contents

  Maps

  1. Departure

  2. Last Stop

  3. Latrine Business

  4. Chez Jensen-Morley

  5. Night Visitors

  6. A New Boy

  7. Darth Vader

  8. Colorado Honey

  9. Thomas to the Rescue

  10. Naknek

  11. Knives and Fur Hats for Sale

  12. Captain

  13. A Gift

  14. Patrick

  15. Fishing Begins

  16. Rulers of the World

  17. Bag Balm

  18. A Cake in the Coleman?

  19. Blue Skies and Brown Bears

  20. Swallowed a Lead Line

  21. Dancing with Mosquitoes

  22. A Not So Happy Birthday

  23. Payday

  24. Dillingham

  25. So Many Fish

  26. Midnight

  27. Japanese Typhoon

  28. Refuge

  29. After the Storm

  30. An Uncertain Good-bye

  31. Dad

  32. Crash Position

  33. MayDay! MayDay!

  34. It’ll Work Out

  35. Ghosts in the Water

  36. Home Again

  Glossary

  Acknowledgments

  Discussion Questions

  “Clouds come floating into my life,

  no longer to carry rain or usher storm,

  but to add color to my sunset sky.”

  —Rabindranath Tagore, Stray Birds

  1

  Departure

  Alaskans like to call their state “The Last Frontier.” It even says that on the license plates. Like a big adventure is around every corner, and every one of those cars is revved up and ready to go exploring. And the families inside are excited to take on the wilderness, with a song in their hearts and stacks of sourdough pancakes in their tummies.

  Maybe that’s what Alaskans are like, but Zoey Morley was definitely not there yet.

  “That’s your airplane? You couldn’t afford one with three real tires?” Zoey frowned at Patrick and shook her head. “You can’t be serious.”

  “Taildragger,” her mother, Alice, had called it, and now Zoey understood. The plane had one small wheel under the tail and two bigger wheels in the front.

  “All of us in that little thing with all our stuff? It doesn’t. …”

  Zoey’s voice trailed off. It was no use. Every time the Bristol Bay idea had come up, she was very clear: “I’m not going!” But here she was, standing on the dusty pavement at Merrill Field in front of the most rickety, pathetic-looking plane in the whole airport.

  Even with its yellow and white paint job, the little airplane seemed sad and tired. That’s how Zoey felt too. Sad every time she thought of her mom and dad before the breakup. And tired from the packing, the days of driving, the unpacking, the new neighborhood, the new school. Most of all, she was tired of being sad.

  Zoey tugged at a blonde braid and thought again of Colorado last summer, the car jammed with stuff and her dad in the driveway looking so clueless. He got smaller and smaller in the rear-view mirror as they drove away. Then he was gone. So was the life she had always known.

  When they arrived at her Aunt Linda’s house in Anchorage, the days were already getting dark and cold. Now after a longer winter than she had thought possible, the sun finally felt warm, the snow had melted, and here they were leaving again.

  In that!

  “Zoey, if you can’t say anything nice.” Her mom, again. “Now make a line and help pass boxes.”

  Zoey glared at her mother and pushed a box containing packages of cereal and spaghetti at her six-year-old brother, Eliot. He croaked out a raspy “Kraak, kraak,” and passed it on to their mom.

  He’s being a raven again. What a weirdo. She looked at his mismatched socks, the old jacket with the duct-tape patch on the sleeve, and the straight blonde hair that hung in his eyes. He was more like a lost puppy than the mysterious Raven, the famous star of so many Alaska Native stories.

  Eliot brushed his bangs aside with one hand. The box finally reached the tall, rugged man in the doorway of the plane. Their mom’s boyfriend, Patrick. He was a bush pilot,
and this mess was his big idea.

  “We need to earn some money, Zoey,” her mom had said.

  Zoey agreed with her there. Ever since her parents had split up, all she heard was, “Too expensive, Zoey. Not now. I need to pay the rent.” Your dad’s not paying any child support. Her mom didn’t say that, but Zoey knew she was thinking it.

  Most people who need money find a real job. Zoey’s mom taught piano lessons in their living room. This Bristol Bay thing wasn’t a job either. It was, well … Zoey didn’t know what it was, except crazy.

  “Wanna check out inside?” Patrick patted the wing above the door.

  Zoey paused.

  “Can I see?” Eliot rushed past bumping Zoey on the way.

  Zoey rolled her eyes. “Whatever.”

  Eliot climbed up and peered inside. “Cool! Come on, Zoey. You gotta see.” He stepped down to make way for his sister.

  Zoey sighed. She grabbed the wing strut and levered herself up on the metal footrest below the door. Inside the plane, pieces of stuffing spilled from split fabric on the seats, and a shredded lining hung from the ceiling like cobwebs. The area behind the seats was stuffed with boxes.

  “What’s wrong with it? Why is it all raggedy?”

  Patrick set a box in the doorway. It was labeled “Food Supplements” in her mom’s swirly writing. “It’s an old plane. But the price was right.”

  “Mom! You said….”

  “Zoey, that’s enough.”

  “Hang on a minute, so I can make enough room for you guys to sit.”

  Zoey lowered herself back to the tarmac. Patrick tucked his frame through the door, pushing boxes of canned vegetables ahead of him.

  Zoey’s mom shook her head. “Zoey, we’ve been over and over this. Most kids would love to fly in a small plane. And Bristol Bay? It’s the most famous sockeye fishing area in Alaska, maybe in the world. Just wait till you see it.”

  “I don’t ever want to see it! How many times do I have to say this? We just got here, and now we’re moving again! It’s not fair!”

  Her mom sighed and shook her head. Patrick backed out the door.

  “Zoey, it’s pretty clear your mom can’t teach enough lessons to pay the rent, and I can’t help out unless we get this plane out west where I can haul fish. There’s a lot of money to be made out there, but it’s a short season. There’s no time to waste. Now, let’s get this baby in the air.”

  He gently picked up their old black lab, Lhasa, and eased her onto the floor behind the passenger seat. If Lhasa was concerned about the plane, she didn’t show it. Eliot was next.

  “Don’t worry, guys; the engine’s real solid,” said Patrick.

  “Raven Boy ready to fly!” Eliot shouted.

  Patrick reached his hand down to help Zoey. She ignored him, pulled herself up, climbed over Eliot, and sandwiched herself against a window. Zoey didn’t know much about Patrick. But she knew she didn’t like him.

  She made sure her duffel was wedged under the seat. In it was an art kit she had won in the poster contest last year. She had carefully packed the markers, brushes, and big tubes of paint. She was not going anywhere without those.

  Zoey craned her head around to look behind her. The cabin was so crammed with boxes and gear she couldn’t even see the back windows. She looked at Eliot. He wore a bulky sweater and a dark bandanna Patrick had tied around his head, and he was sitting on a box so he could see out the window. It made him tall enough that his head brushed the shredded material from the ceiling, causing him to cock his head first one way then the other. Maybe he did look like a raven after all.

  Zoey’s mom climbed in and Patrick followed. His seat rose directly in front of Zoey. His curly black hair blocked most of her view forward, but she could see her mom shut the passenger-side door, latch it, then sit strangely still for a moment, staring out through the front windshield. Her mom’s mouth made tiny movements at the corners just like it used to when their dad didn’t come home when he said he would.

  Zoey wiped her sweaty hands on her pants and hunched her shoulders up to her chin. She felt like throwing up. This was really happening. All her summer plans with her new best friend, Bethany—swimming at Jewel Lake, staying up late at the Fourth of July concert on the Park Strip, and celebrating Zoey’s thirteenth birthday at the new dance club—all those plans were gone.

  She and Bethany had planned it all out. They were going to take turns babysitting, and Zoey was going to use the money to fly to Colorado to find her dad. Only Bethany knew about that part. But Zoey was sure she could convince her mom when the time came. Instead, now she would be stuck in a tent in the middle of nowhere.

  Her mom had been firm, almost angry. “Zoey, we are a family and we are going out there together.”

  And the letter she sent to her dad to see if she could stay with him? Returned to her stamped “Address Unknown.” How could that be? They had lived in that house her whole life until this last year. Where was he? Nearly a year had gone by without a single word from him, not even one letter. She was determined to find out why. But now this Bristol Bay–summer plan was like a freight train that just kept coming no matter how many things she tried to throw in front of it.

  “Are you guys all right back there?” Zoey’s mom turned to look at them and burst out laughing. “You look like real pioneers, all squeezed in there with everything you could possibly want for the next few months. Off to a new world where, who knows? Anything can happen! Where’s the camera?” She plunged an arm into her bag.

  “Ready? Smile!”

  Zoey didn’t. Lhasa panted, so Zoey reached down and rubbed her head.

  “Clear prop!” Patrick yelled. He turned a key, and the engine sputtered to life. Its roar overwhelmed even her thoughts. Then they were moving. Patrick wore a headset and spoke into a microphone, but with the noise Zoey had no idea what he was saying. They taxied to the end of the runway. Patrick swung the plane into the wind and revved the engine. They rolled slowly, then faster.

  Zoey held her breath. The cabin was shaking so hard she worried the engine would fly right off the plane. All around her things rattled and buzzed. Why hadn’t they taken off yet? She dug her toes under the seat in front of her as if to lift it off the ground and watched the back of Patrick’s head for any sign he might be in trouble. Faster and faster.

  Then the plane felt smooth and light. No more rattling, although the wings wobbled just a little. They were flying, but to where? Into some mysterious place Patrick called “the real Alaska.” A place she couldn’t even imagine. A place her dad would never find.

  2

  Last Stop

  It was still too noisy to talk. Zoey watched shadows dance across the Anchorage skyline. Patrick banked the plane, and they headed toward the open water of Cook Inlet.

  “Kraak, kraak!” Eliot yelled, his eyes fixed on the horizon. He tried to flap his arms in the confined space.

  Zoey had never flown in a small plane. She thought of the big Alaska Airlines jet they took to Juneau to visit Nana and Papa. This felt more like riding a lawn mower hung from an old kite.

  Trees, roads, and cars fell away as they climbed higher and higher.

  The streets, houses, and tall buildings of downtown Anchorage seemed small in front of the towering Chugach mountain range behind them. Then, all too soon, they disappeared altogether, replaced by the seething waters of Cook Inlet. Zoey felt her connection to her old life shrink too. Her new one was a big question mark. Patrick had shown them Bristol Bay on a map, but it wasn’t a real place to Zoey. Not yet.

  I’m going to tell my dad all about this someday, she decided. But it didn’t make her feel any better.

  Her mom turned and gave them a thumbs-up. Zoey could see Patrick’s hand on her knee. Why was her mom suddenly so attached to this poor, dumb pilot? Not that they had been rich, or all that happy in Colorado, but did she really think he was an improvement?

  Trying to understand her mom was like trying to figure out why the wind changed
direction. You never seemed to have enough information. This whole divorce thing just swooped in one day like a harsh wind trying to blow their family apart. Lots of families live their whole lives in the same place. Why not hers?

  But Zoey knew lots of families didn’t. Bethany’s mom was divorced too, and her boyfriend was creepy. Zoey and Bethany both thought so. All they knew for sure was that it just wasn’t fair.

  The sound of the airplane engine smoothed out. Sun broke through the clouds, and a waterfall of dazzling light spilled over the Sleeping Lady, a mountain across Cook Inlet that was easy to see from Anchorage.

  Zoey had heard the old Indian story. A beautiful maiden was sleeping before she was to be married. The man she loved was away from the village, fighting off a warring tribe. When he was killed, no one had the heart to awaken the sleeping lady, so she slept on and on and finally turned into the famous mountain.

  Just as well, because they would have gotten divorced anyway, Zoey sulked.

  This was the first time Zoey had seen the mountain from the air. It really did look like a woman asleep, with her arms folded and her long hair cascading into the sea. Directly below them, the tide and wind churned the water green and white with brown streaks and extravagant swirls. So wild and scary and beautiful all at the same time.

  They left the Sleeping Lady behind, and soon Zoey spotted even bigger mountains. White smoke puffed from one snowy peak then another. Her mom pointed and yelled above the din of the engine.

  “Mounts Iliamna and Redoubt. They’re volcanoes.”

  “Wow! Are they going to erupt?”

  Her mom shook her head and laughed. “Not today, I hope!”

  Zoey slid her duffel out from under Lhasa, and pulled out her sketchpad and a pencil. With one hand on the paper and her brown eyes darting between the view and the pad, she swiftly made lines to capture the lights and shadows of the landscape. Stuck in this plane she couldn’t fly, on the way to a place she didn’t want to be, Zoey felt herself grow calm. Drawing was something she could control. No one could make her put a line where she didn’t want one.