The Mountain Lights

Chapter 4

Matt was sick the next morning, as was to be expected from a night of lavish drinking. And Dany was sad and tired because she didn’t sleep very well, even with Frost’s tail curled around her. And even then she was astonished to see someone lose their stomach contents so early in the morning. He didn’t look so good. His skin was a strange combination of sheet white and green, and his eyes were red-rimmed. But before breakfast, or before anything, Matt had her dressed warmly in one of his thermal jackets. It was huge on her, more like a dress than a jacket, but at least she would be warm. He took painkillers for his hangover, not even caring about his raw stomach, and then took her out by the hand. They got into his black Ford F-150.

They drove to Anchorage in silence. Every time Matt caught Dany eyeballing him, she shot her eyes out through the window, pretending like that’s what she’d been looking at the whole time. There was this uneasy scratchy feeling in the back of his head that had little to do with him being hungover. When it was time, she begrudgingly gave him directions to Clive’s house, all teary-eyed. Now she felt scared to go back. She wasn’t sure why. He sighed heavily.

He recognized the house when he parked in front of it in the street. It had been empty a few months ago. He remembered hearing Jack’s son say that he considered moving into it, but then some guy from Texas plucked it first. He looked over at Dany. She seemed pale of a sudden.

“Come on, let’s go.”

Her lips quivered and she pressed them together. Tears ran down her cheeks now.

“What is it? Are you afraid she’ll scold you for running away?” he asked then.

She shook her head. “She wouldn’t have cared.”

Matt c****d his head, which was still pounding even after the Motrin. He’d wanted to drink the last bit of brandy when he got up that morning, before he was violently ill. But seeing her on the floor made him reconsider. He had to be in a good condition to drive her home. Why would she say that? She sniffed and gave a sob, her breath shuddered out. He pressed his thumb and forefinger to the bridge of his nose and shut his eyes.

He had to do this. He couldn’t keep her away from her mother, even if she was family. She was a minor. He of all people knew the consequences of the long arm of the law when it came to things like kidnapping. But seeing her reaction made him nervous and sent up red flags. She was probably just afraid her mother would reprimand her. Maybe he could talk to his sister. They hadn’t had anything to say to each other for years. But this didn’t really concern their issues. This was about Danae. Maybe she just really wanted to see him.

He placed a hand on her shoulder, rubbed it. “Alright, take it easy. Let me go talk to her. You stay here until I call you, okay?”

She didn’t answer or nod, but he knew she didn’t want to get out of the pickup. She’d stay. He got out and walked up to the house. The sun blasting in his hungover eyes nearly blinded him, he jerked his head back like someone wanted to slap him. He brought a hand up to shade them. He knocked, waited.

He cast a glance at Danae. She stared at him with pleading eyes. He knocked again. Then he heard a whirlwind of things being pushed around inside the house, chairs squeaking over the floor, a loud thump that sounded almost like someone falling off said chair. Where is it? Where? Coming! Do you think it’s him? He heard a woman say. Helen?

He heard a man say something back, but it didn’t sound like Dan. Dan didn’t have a southern accent. That was the Texas guy. Matt’s pulse leapt up. And then the door opened.

In the doorframe stood Helen, her hair done up in fancy curls, wearing half-smeared shocking pink lipstick, and nothing but a bra and g-string in the same color, with some sort of fake pink fur around her arms. Before she opened her eyes enough to see who it was, she struck a pose, one foot in front of the other, the front leg bent, with her hand on her hip.

“Hello Brad!” She purred, and then she opened her eyes and yelped. Her hands snapped to her chest to cover her breasts. “Matthias!”

Every protective parental instinct that had died over the last seven years suddenly sparked to life, one after the other like little explosions going off. “Helen? What the hell are you doing?”

“I ah, I…”

He peered into the house. The place was trashed inside with empty beer bottles, underwear, balloons, stuffed animals with p*****s. p*****s?! Underwear lay strewn everywhere, and the Texas guy with his cowboy hat held a glittery unicorn to his crotch.

“Oh I don’t need to tell you anything!” she was about to close the door, when Matt blocked her.

“Danae is in my truck.”

“What? What’s she doing there?”

He narrowed his eyes. “You didn’t even know she was gone…How do you not know your child is gone?” How indeed. He’d lived with that knowledge for years. And there was no amount of anaesthetization from alcohol that could make him forget it. “Where’s Dan?”

She burst into laughter. “Dead! For months already. I’m trying to find a life for us here, or anywhere where the money’s good, really. Besides, she mostly looks after herself anyway. What’s it to you?”

Anger started simmering. “She’s a minor…” he bit out. He hadn’t even known that Dan had died. But she didn’t seem thrown by his death. This was the Helena he’d said no to when she asked him for money to cheat on her husband. And now she was finally free of him. She didn’t marry for love, she married for money. Same as Stephanie. They were best friends after all.

“How can you do all this so out in the open with her in the same house? What are you thinking?”

Helen rolled her eyes. “Ugh. She wasn’t even in the house, apparently.”

“She rode the train alone!” He raised his voice, pointed to her as he spoke. He was nearly as red in the face as he was around the eyes.

“She could’ve walked through the woods for all we know. There are bears in those woods! When was the last time you fed her?”

The doors of his sluggish mind sprang open and a million neurotic paternal fears took hold. What had she seen? Did she even have proper clothing? When was the last time she ate? Did she even go to school? Had she drunk alcohol before? Used drugs? Did one of her mother’s men, because there had to be many if she was still waiting for someone named Brad even if the Texan was here, molest her or hurt her in any way?

“Well, if you’re so worried about the kid why don’t you take her!” Then she slammed the door in his face.

He raised his fist to knock again, to tell her exactly what he thought of her as he did the last time she saw him, then hesitated. Did he really want to send Dany back there?

He glanced over his shoulder at her. She sat with her head down, her long dark hair hid her face, but he could see she was still wiping away tears.

He sighed and rubbed his hands over his groggy face. There wasn’t really any other family that could take her. And in a court, a responsible family member would near always get preference over any other person.

And technically, she gave him permission. Technically. How is she better off with me? I’m just a drunk. He swallowed. But he could leave the alcohol. He wasn’t a real, hard alkie. It was just a bad habit. What would he do with her? It’s been years, would he even still know how to ride the bike of fatherhood? God. What am I thinking?

He knocked on the door, hard.

“Hi Brad! – Goddamnit!”

“Helen,” Matt started, “That is your daughter, not mine. She’s your responsibility,”

“Fine! Do whatever the hell you want to do with her and just get out of here. Just leave her here if you want.”

“You don’t give a damn about her.”

“Greta died two years ago! I don’t have the time to take care of her.”

“No, you have plenty of time. You just don’t take responsibility. You don't have priorities.”

“That guy still here?” the Texan asked.

“He says Dany snuck out of the house, Clive.” Helen said, rolling her eyes.

“Who’s Dany?” Clive asked.

“You know what, fine! Do I have your permission to take her?” Matt threw his hands up. Every ethical moral he had in his bones kept him from turning away.

“Pa!” A teenage boy called from the stairs. “Hailey stole my snickerdoodle!”

“Oh for f**k’s sake, Harry! Get your damn s**t together! Come on Helen, I got marshmallow flavored lube in the drawer and cream in the fridge.”

“Hell,” Matt brought a hand to his eyes. Suddenly he wanted to throw up again. He grew up in the same house as this woman. Iluak, their father, would turn in his grave. In both of them. They’d both turned their backs on their Inuit traditions, and now this? He’d made a sort of turnaround back to them by coming here, hoping to find himself again, after he got lost in clients, divorce papers, labor laws, criminal courts and all that. In the end, none of all that mattered.

She, on the other hand... He couldn’t even blame their mother, who was as modern American as they come. She was the reason he was called Matthias and not Tupilek - he would have made a horrible Shaman in any case. Though Jack liked to joke that his innate shamanism was why he liked drinking so much, it was a hallucinogenic. Their mother was never so... ostentatious. This was all Helen.

“Coming my pumpernickel poodley-woodley!” Helen called back, “Take the kid if you want. More time and money for me.” She turned around and slammed the door in his face.

He walked back to the pickup, scratching the back of his scalp. His head hurt so much, even the roots of his hair were sensitive. He got in, blew out breath through his mouth, saw Dany’s eyes were red and swollen like little balloons. The cheeks raw from tears. He stared at her. She was a little Inuit alright.

They used to think it was exceptional that the DNA only seemed to be handed down to the men in his family. But then Dany was born and she didn’t look like her mother or her father, but like Iluak and her great-grandfather, Aglakti. His children never cared about those things. They were very contemporary, city kids. When he was still practicing as a lawyer, he didn’t care either. He wasn’t sure if he did even now, but it was a romantic thought.

Maybe she would like to learn about it. He wasn’t thinking of the fact that he was playing father. He couldn’t think of that right now. The future was pretty murky. He wanted to think of what was needed now. He’d figure the rest out later. She would have to go to school if she was now suddenly going to stay in Harlem. And that meant learning a mix of tradition and modern education. That meant Ahnah would teach her in her small class of twelve.

Her breath hitched several times on the inhale. “What are you thinking?” she shuddered out.

He sighed. “I think we should go get breakfast at the Inn. And then I need to buy food for the house, and clothes for you.” He scratched his head, winced at his tender scalp. “And we need to go see Ahnah about school.”

She gave a little girl squeal and clamped her arms around him.