At dinnertime the family would turn on the radio to listen to “Caribou Clatters,” which were messages read over the air to all the people who lived in the bush and didn’t have telephones. Sometimes Mother and Stepmother would send a message to the children over the radio—just a sentence or two saying they missed them and hoped they were having fun. Hearing her name on the radio made Girl feel important. Father and #Four had set up tent sites on their ten-acre property, and someone had to stay at the campground all summer, in case anyone wanted to rent a campsite. Father and #Four still had to work, though, so they split up the season between them. One week was #Four and Brother, one week was Juli and Girl, the third week was Father and everyone all together. Once, when Juli and Girl were at the campsite alone, Brother sent them a Caribou Clatter. “I hope you are having fun with Lucifer,” he said. Juli was livid, but that was the name of Juli’s cat, so Girl didn’t understand what she was so mad about. Girl hadn’t ever read the Bible.
Juli was sixteen and Girl was eight when Big Mama, as they called the van, pulled away and left them behind at the campground. There was no car in case of emergency, but there was a canoe Juli could row to a nearby hunting lodge. Juli let Girl stay in her cabin, so neither of them had to sleep alone. Every morning Juli read the Bible to Girl, starting from the very beginning. Girl knew Juli was dyslexic and this was a big deal to her, so she listened closely even though it was boring. At night the sisters wrote letters back home on pale lavender stationery.
One night two drunken campers came to their campsite. The men ignored the barricade that separated the family’s area from the campground itself, and walked down as if they were invited guests. “Is your father here?” they asked Girl in gruff, slurred voices. She said no, but the men didn’t leave. They were tall with untrimmed beards, smelly and unwashed from living in the bush country. They found Father’s Reiner beer in the cooler and sat down at the picnic table to hang out for the night. They told Juli that she was very pretty, and Girl agreed. Juli had long, red hair and baby blue eyes. Even though she was short—only four-foot-nine-inches—she had really big breasts, so big that even at eight years old Girl knew they were impressive. The sky doesn’t darken during an Alaskan summer, so there was no easy way to end the evening. The stars don’t come out, there’s no feel of time passing—it is like one very long day. Eventually, Juli told the men that she had to get her little sister to bed. Still they did not stand up and go, but kept drinking beer around the campfire, trying to convince Juli to hang out with them longer.
Juli and Girl went into the King cabin, and Juli locked the door from the inside. There wasn’t really a doorknob, but there was a metal latch and Juli hooked the Master lock through the hasp and shut it. The sisters stood quietly as the door, listening for the men. Girl kept her arms wrapped around her big sister, trying to slow her thumping heartbeat, afraid the men could hear it. Juli told Girl, “If I tell you to run, go out the window as quietly as you can and climb in the window of the cabin next door. I’ll meet you there. Don’t look back or wait for me in the woods, just run as quickly as you can.”
Girl wasn’t sure about this. What if Juli couldn’t get in the window? What if the men caught her? Girl went and laid down on her metal camp bed as quietly as she could, hoping the men would think they were asleep. Juli stood by the door, one eye on the peephole. She did not lie down until the men gave up and walked away.
pearl the squirrel
There was a fat, dead squirrel in the trap Father had set in the storage area of the Taylor cabin. The oversized mousetrap had caught him behind the head, and he wasn’t moving or bleeding.
“Dad!” Girl called. “You got a squirrel!” She went outside so she didn’t have to watch him take it out of the trap and she tried not to cry.
“Why do you have to kill them?” Father didn’t hunt. He hardly ever fished. He loved his dog more than he loved just about anyone or anything. How could he do this?
“Girl, you know I have to. They eat our food.”
She didn’t see how a squirrel could get into all those cans, and he kept the dehydrated meat and noodles and stuff in sealed plastic containers. What was even here for an animal to eat? Some candles? The squirrel had looked soft and cuddly, even though you couldn’t hug a squirrel. Girl balled up her hands in her pockets, kicked the gravel at her feet, and didn’t look up. She puffed out her lower lip and blew her tangled, dirty hair out of her eyes.
“Look, I know you love animals, honey. But it wasn’t a pet. It was a wild animal, and if I let them in here they’d eat everything.”
She still wouldn’t look at him. It wasn’t fair.
“Hey, I have an idea—we could stuff him and make him into a stuffed animal,” Father said.
“Really? We could do that?” A jolt of longing banished Girl’s melancholia. She loved stuffed animals. A real squirrel would be the best thing ever.
“Sure! We can go down to the lodge later and ask Linda for some button eyes.” Father was cheerful, his big blue eyes looking into Girl’s brown ones. She swore he never blinked, or at
