The Mountain Lights

Chapter 5

Dany learned that there weren't really that many businesses in Harlem. There was the Inn, which was also a makeshift post office, the convenience store (which really had pretty much everything from food to clothing), a police station with three officers, and a local news station that ran the local paper and the local radio station.

There was a doctor too, with a small medical consultation room adjacent to his house. But if anyone needed to go to the hospital or to the bank, they had to go all the way to Anchorage. There was a community hall that worked for council meetings, get-togethers and watching movies.

Ahnah was an Alaskan native who got her teaching degree in Fairbanks. She currently had a small class of twelve that was a mix of anything from six years to eighteen years. Truth was her assistant, and they ran the Harlem school out of Ahnah's converted garage. The most children they'd ever had was twenty-one. The Internet was a blessing for older children's studies, even if it was slow and only worked when the weather was clear enough.

Cultural subjects like hunting, gathering, fishing, environmental protection and operating in village life were part of the curriculum, and sometimes Ahnah and her father and brother, Nanook and Silla, would take them out into the field when weather permitted to get hands-on experience.

Dany sat in the truck and watched as Matt talked to Ahnah. She was beautiful, long dark hair peeked out from the fur of her cap around her face. She looked native too! She wore a brown jacket and black pants with boots that looked really nice and warm. Dany's toes were freezing, despite Matt having turned on the heater inside the truck. Matt explained the situation to Ahnah. She nodded as she listened.

"I don't mind taking her in, for however long she stays," Ahnah said, "I can find out what their curriculum was like and how she did. Then I can adjust to that."

Ahnah was kind and caring, and she too didn't think Matt was such a bad guy. He was just down on his luck. Most people that thought he was a no-good drunk in Harlem were youths who hadn't gone through the hardships of life yet. And they were few. Everyone here knew his history. There were only forty-something people living in Harlem after all.

"I think she'd love it here. The school is closed at the moment for the hunting season, so the kids can go with their parents to learn. We can get her started in a couple of weeks." Ahnah said, thinking Matt would love it just as much with her around.

"Aye. Thanks for the help." Matt said, turning back.

"Let me know if you need help with anything else, even outside of school." Her lips curved in a warm smile.

"Yeah, it's been a while." Matt half-laughed.

"I should go say hello," Ahnah started following him.

Dany jumped out of the truck before he could gesture to her to just bring down the window.

"Hi!" She beamed, bright as the sun on the snow.

"Hi Dany! I'm Ahnah," she extended a gloved hand and Dany shook it enthusiastically.

"That's a really pretty name. I love Ahnah."

Ahnah laughed. "Well Danae is a nice name too. Could you tell me the name of the school you went to?"

She told her, and Ahnah said she would call them. Then they said their goodbyes, with Dany seizing Ahnah in a fierce hug. They got back into the truck.

The next stop was the convenience store. She needed new clothing. And he needed to fill the cupboards in the house. He hadn't cooked for himself in ages. He still had a headache. He needed food, and so did she. She didn't have to say a thing, he just knew it.

She gave a shiver next to him. He chuckled softly then, and rubbed her thigh in quick up and down strokes to warm it up. "You should have just lowered the window, stayed here in the warmth."

"I wanted to hug her. She was so beautiful, she looked like an angel," Dany said.

At the convenience store, they picked out clothing first. The owners and shop attendants, Martha with her moon-round face and silver curly locks, and her husband Noah with his long grey beard that rested on his belly, said she could use their office to try on the clothing to see if they fit. Matt bought everything she needed right down to the thermal underwear, and told her she might as well keep some of the clothes on for the rest of the day. There wasn't a great big variety in her size, but Martha said she would order more to be brought over with their next shipment of supplies by train.

She snuggled into the brown thermal jacket and covered her cold nose with gloved hands. And her toes were finally thawing inside the boots.

Next, they looked at groceries. Martha and Noah curiously studied them as they moved through the shelves.

"Where do you think he got her from?" Martha whispered.

"Ain't none of our business." Noah answered, but looked interested anyway.

"Do you think it's his daughter?"

Noah knitted his bushy brows. "Of course not, Martha. His kids are nearly grown."

She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "Granddaughter?"

"He ain't that old."

"Maybe Rose knows."

Noah sighed and shook his head.

"What do you like to eat?" Matt asked as he studied some canned corn, momentarily forgetting he was talking to an eleven-year-old.

"Peanut butter cups, Little Debbies, Pepsi..."

Matt chuckled. "Of course. How shallow of me. Ever had a vegetable?"

"I like carrots and corn and tomatoes. And the little green trees,"

Matt stopped abruptly and raised his brows at her. "You like brocolli?"

"What's that?" She asked.

"Little green trees...that sounds like brocolli."

She scrunched up her nose in concentration. "I think that's their name, yup."

He merely stared at her, then moved on. "There are miracles that still happen in this world."

His children wouldn't touch a piece of brocolli with a ten foot pole, no matter how much cheese he or Tia piled on. Tia was their house help. Because Stephanie wasn't...established in the art of keeping house. So Tia cooked and cleaned, and when he had the rare day off, he cooked. He wasn't great at it, but at least his children didn't grow up on mounds of boxes of frozen pizza. Not that any of that mattered now. They even sent back his letters, and he'd given up writing to them years ago.

And maybe it was stupid of him, or maybe it was just fatherly, but he still loved them.

He eyed the liquor on the far shelf, hesitated.

"Can I have some of these?" Dany asked.

He tore his eyes away, saw she was holding up a box of fig cakes. He glanced at the bottles of alcohol once before turning to her. "Sure."

"Can I have one?" She beamed.

"No. After breakfast."

He paid for the groceries, saw Martha check him out.

Completely sober for a change, she thought. "So, you wanna tell me who Dany is, Matthias?"

A smile almost tugged on his lips. Busy body. "She's my niece. She's visiting."

"First time she's visiting?" Noah elbowed his wife. "I'm just asking!"

"Could use some more wood here," Noah changed the subject, "Supplies are getting low."

He could technically order wood from the neighboring towns and have it delivered by train, as they had most of their goods delivered. But in Harlem they valued supporting local people. And he liked to think it kept the man away from looking too deep into the bottle. Even if it was a safety hazard. It was a miracle he hadn't chopped off his own hands so far.

"I'll get on it." Matt said, smiling, and took the bags.

He didn't need the money from the wood he chopped and sold or the charcoal he made, even though he did live off it. He had plenty of investments that he'd accumulated in his life. He could live royally, like Stephanie probably was, with the monthly stipend he had to pay her.

She was lucky that one of his investments allowed for that, and would allow for it until she retired, though to her it probably seemed like petty cash. And the very children who returned his unread letters back to him probably weren't even aware that one of his investments was set up to pay their college funds in the near future.

He had worked his fingers to the bone in his life, yet he had no desire to accumulate luxuries or live in the endless spiral of modern consumerism.

What he had in Harlem was real and raw and didn't come tied up in a bow. It was simple. And he preferred the basic over the complicated that his life once was.

"Have a nice day." Then he went out the door, the bell rang as it opened, and Dany skipped along.

She didn't mind him saying she was visiting. As long as he didn't start talking about when she had to go back. She didn't want to go back...not for a long time.