Restlessness

Everyone is a bit restless up here.

A librarian, who obviously has had a long week, just exclaimed loudly that I need to put my apple back into my backpack or leave. Everyone in the building looked up from their reading with an inquisitive expression and raised eyebrow. I don't think I've been sitting here for 90 seconds, and the apple certainly hasn't been out of my bag for more than 15. I nearly laughed, but, by sheer grace, was able to nod apologetically and remove the apple from the tabletop. I guess the winter has been hard on her; she does have some sharp gray streaks piercing through her light brown hair. And her glasses are black and pointy. I'm sure somewhere black, pointy glasses connotate something ghastly negative.

These days I am doing a lot of fireman training.

Huh? That last sentence actually caught me off guard, but yes, it's an accurate statement. I have applied for, and am in the running for a job with a wildfire fighting crew up in Fairbanks.

Again, huh? Yes, i also thought the idea of treacherous wildfires burning through Alaska was about as science-fiction as Western winning in football, but(!), contrary to popular belief, the interior of "The Great Land" burns hot each and every year. In fact, the fire crews here in Alaska are regarded as the most elite in the nation and are frequently called down to the lower 48 during spells of intensified burning. My friend Brian is a long-time hotshot (premier firefighter), and this summer will be the crew boss for the "North Stars" - a crew that patrols the entire state and is on-call 24/7. This is the crew I'm in the running for. I'm up against about 300 other applicants, all of whom are vying for 25 spots. It helps that I know Brian, but, there's definitely no guarantee of making the cut. I should find out if I'm one of the chosen 25 in the next week or so.

Anyway, so I'm doing a lot of fireman training. Each day I walk over to the SJ gym and force myself to run and complete typical PT exercises (Sheldon Jackson College went bankrupt and is now closed down, but, the campus gym is normally available to the public for use). Yesterday I walked through the front door, signed in with receptionist - a heavier-set, dark haired woman - and gave the greeting of "good afternoon". As I turned to walk down the red-painted hallway to the locker room the woman, who we'll call Barbara (I don't actually know her name, but Barbara seems to fit), said firmly, "You're gonna want to take one of these here locks with you today".

I stopped, wheeled back around, and, because of the certainty in her voice, took the lock from Barbara's outstretched palm. I didn't really see why today entitled the need for a locker-lock, when every other day had not, and so I asked if there was any reason especial. She stood up tall, looked at me with her dark-brown eyes, pointed a pale finger towards nothing in particular and gave this reply:

"Well, ya see, it's all dem kids. It's spring break all over the village, and seems as though none of dem gots any place to go but here. Der folks don't wants em 'round the house, der ain't no work, and ya can't near go outdoors in the weather we're gettin'. It's brutal out der. So, all of dem bored, troublesome kids come here and do no good. I swear, near since sunup I've been wrastlin' boys out of the supply closet and girls bathroom. Lord have mercy, I'm over being tired of it, I'm near to callin' the authorities."

I nodded apologetically, just thankful she didn't mistake me for one of "dem" high schoolers. I asked what she thought would be a good remedy to the situation. Barbara turned and spat some caramel colored tobacco juice into a V8 can on her desk - out of a void in her mouth where a tooth used to reside, back in her "good years".

"Lock em up in the high school gym with 'nough water and venison to get though the week. And den give em one of dem electronic gaming pieces. That should do dem all right. The whole of Sitka could den dwell in peace and quiet, and I wouldn't 'ave to fret 'bout my toilet paper gettin' roll'd down the hallway der."

I nodded again, shaking my head like I knew something, and said "I hear ya". I then thanked her for the lock and proceeded down the red-painted hallway. Behind me Barbara was already yelling at some boy to "get down from dem rafters". I grinned ear to ear, happy to be stuck on an island like this one.