ONENIGHT
TIAWILSON
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OneNight
byTiaWilson
Copyright©2017byTiaWilson
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FirstPublished:January2017
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Manykindsofpersonssailacrossthesea.[Eyrbyggja]
-Margirerumarlíðendr.”
IcelandicProverb
ChapterOne
My stomach lurched as the plane dipped again. Fasten your seatbelt signs popped on and the stewards
rushed along the aisles collecting drinks and popping trays back into place. I gripped the armrest and
looked out at the swirling snow whipping past the window. Every time the plane dipped or lurched
peopleletoutgaspsandmoans.
Theplaneridesmoothedoutandthepeoplearoundmesighed.Thewomansittingbesidemehadmodel
good looks and the icy blues eyes that I had seen several Icelandic people with since I first landed in
Reykjavik.Shenudgedmeandsaid,“Thispartoftheflightisalwaysalittlebumpy.Oncewegetacross
themountainsitshouldsmoothout.”
I was thankful for her small gesture and if I was being honest with myself I was feeling alone and
disconnectedeversinceIlandedinIcelandyesterday.Iwasheadingnorthtothethesecondlargestcityin
Iceland called Akureyri. Once the plane landed it was a short drive to my hotel and the thought of
collapsingontoasofteiderdownduvetwasappealing.InthemorningIwouldbegoingtotheuniversity
todemoapieceofsoftwareIhadhelpeddesign.AfterthatIhadafewdaysoffandthenitwasbackto
Reykjavikforacoupleofhecticdaysofmeetingsanddemos.Iwaslookingforwardtoburyingmyselfin
thework,Iwasgladforachancetodistractmyselffromtheheartacheofarecentbreakup.
“I’m not a great flyer. This is the smallest plane I’ve flown in and I think its making me even more
nervous,” I replied. What is it about being trapped in a metal tube with a bunch of strangers that will
sometimesmakeusopenuptoeachother.IfonlyitwasmorelikethatineverydaylifeIthought.
“Don't worry. Icelandic pilots are excellent. They have to fly in worse conditions than this,” she said
smiling.“WhatbringsyoutoIceland?”
“I’mheretodemoapieceofeductionsoftwaretoacoupleofuniversitiesaroundthecountry.Ihelped
design it and have been invited to Akureyri university to demo it,” I said and waited for the usual
reaction.
“Veryimpressive,”thewomansaid.Ihadseentherangeofreactionsinwomenswingfrompraiseformy
accomplishmentstosuspicionthatImightofsleptmywayintotherole.Mencanbecruelaboutmylineof
work, but I have found that women outside of the business could be even worse a lot of the time. The
womanbesidemeseemedgenuinelyimpressed.“Aretheremanywomeninyourfield?”
“Afew.Itincreaseseveryyear,”Isaid,glossingoverthefactthatwomenwereararebreedinsoftware
designandanafricanamericanprogrammerwasasrareasaunicorn.“I’mSasha,”Isaidandreachedout
myhandtoher.
“I’mGunna.Nicetomeetyou.”
“Whatisityoudo?”Iask.JudgingbyherstunninglooksIwouldn'tbesurprisedifshewasamodeloran
actress.
“Iworkintheharbour.Icheckboatsintothedockandsquareawayallthepaperwork.Thattakesupmy
mornings.IntheafternoonsIhelpweightheboatscatchesfortheday.Iloveit,itsamixofsittinginthe
officeforhalfthedayandtheotherIgettospendoutdoors.”
“Ithoughtyouwereamodel,”Iblurtoutandthensmileselfconsciouslyather.
“I wish. I’m just a regular Icelandic country girl. Thanks for the compliment. You are very beautiful
yourself,” she said smiling and then bent in to whisper in my ear, “the men here would go crazy for a
womanasattractiveasyou.”I’mnotgoingtolie,thecomplimentfromGunnafeltgood.
“I don’t know,” I said looking away from Gunna, “I’m only out of a relationship and I don’t think I’m
readytoputmyselfoutthereagain.”
Gunnasqueezedmyarmandbentintowardsmeandwhispered,“WehaveasayinghereinIceland.”She
proceededto say acouple of wordsin her lilting Icelandicaccent. Even thoughI couldn't understand a
wordshehadsaidithadsoundedpoeticandbeautiful.
“Whatdoesitmean?”Iasked,eagertohearalyricalpieceofIcelandicfolkwisdom.
“Fuckthepainaway,”shesaidwithabroadgrinandasparkleinhericyblueeyes.
IlaughedandwasalreadystartingtoreallylikeGunna.“Thatsonewaytodealwithit,”Isaidwithagrin.
“Itstheonlyway.Thewintersarelonganddarkhere.Theycanbetoughtogetthroughanddoublytoughif
somejerkhasstampedyourheartintothesnow.ThatshowweIcelandersdealwithit,otherwisewinters
wouldbehell.Whatdoyouplantodotonight?”
Ihadplannedtogetstraightintobedandwatchamovieonmylaptop.Ididn'twanttosoundlikeatotal
squaresosaid,“Ihavenoplans.”
“Youshouldcomeoutwithmeandmyfriends.Icanshowyouaroundtownandintroduceyoutoafew
guys.ThemenofAkureyriare,”andshekissedthetipsofherfingerslikeachefcomplimentingameal.
Gunna seemed at total ease with her good looks but I didn’t get the vibe that she thought she was any
betterthanme.Ihadseenthatalltoomanytimesinstrikingwomen,theyexpectedthingstobehandedto
them. Gunna seemed down to earth and level headed. I had seen a large amount of tall blondes with
perfect skin and dazzling smiles since I arrived in Iceland so maybe Gunna thought she was nothing
special.LatelyIhadbeenfeelinganythingbutbeautifulandIfeltmyinsidesclenchwhenIthoughtbackto
mybreakupalittleoveramonthago.Myheartwasstillhurtingfromitandmyconfidencehadtakena
majorknock.Evenasachildyouarethoughtthepowerofwordsandhowhurtfultheycanbe.Asanadult
IsometimesthoughtIhadbuiltupafairlythickskintothebarbsthatsomemenhadthrownatmeover
theyyears.I’dhadboyfriendsthinktheywerebeingsubtlewhentheyhintedthatmyassmightbealittle
toobigandmaybeweshouldsignuptoagymtogether.I’dhadothermenlovemycurvesbutdropsome
hints about another perceived flaw that I had. Working in tech and surrounded by men all day had
inoculatedmefrommostofthedumbthingsmencansometimesblurtout.EvensoIwasn'treadywhenI
hadmylastfightwithCraig.
I should of seen it coming before everything came to a horrible end. The day of the breakup had been
goingok.IhadbeenwithCraigfornearlysixmonthsandIhadfoolishlythoughtthateverythingwasgoing
good between us. He worked in a company that provided part of the computer code that our eduction
applicationused.Hehadcaughtmyeyewhenhefirstcameintoouroffice,notbecausehewasoneofthe
rareafricanamericansinthetechindustry,itwasbecauseofhowfinehelooked.Ilovedtheguysonmy
team,butmostofthemtendedtomakelittleeffortintheirappearance.T-shirtsandflip-flopswerekingin
ourofficeandIwasonboardwiththat.WhenCraigwalkedinwearingabespokesuitIcouldn'ttakemy
eyesoffhimashestrodeacrosstheofficeandheadedtowardsourmeetingroom.
Natesatbesidemeinouropenplanofficeandheflickedarubberbandatmyhead.“Doyouknowhim?”
heaskedwithabigsmile.
Natehadcaughtmestaring.“Becausehe'sblack?”Isaidandshothimafauxangrylook.
“No.Becauseyourtonguewaspracticallyhangingoutofyourmouth,”hesaid.
Nateraisedhishandintheairandshouted,“HeyCraig.”
Craigturnedaroundandbeamedinourdirection.Andoh.My.God.Heiscomingovertomydesk.My
heartstartspoundingandIcouldalreadyfeelmypalmsbegintosweat.
Nateglancedatmewithasmile.MywholebodytingledwhenNateintroducedmetoCraig.Andsoit
wentfromthere.Atfirstwebondedoverhavingthesamejob.Thenwebondedoverwhatitwaslikeas
theonlyafricanamericaninourcompaniesandthenprettysoonwewerespendingeverynighttogether.It
allfellintoplacesoeasily,Ihadneverfellsohardandsofastforamanbefore.
I’m not going to lie. Those first few weeks were intoxicating. We were both doing work we loved and
gettingpaidwellforitandwefeltlikewehadsomuchincommon.Intheeveningsovertakeawaywe
wouldbounceideasoffeachother.Eductionsoftwarewasbothourpassionsandweeachdreamedofa
robustsystemthatwecouldrolloutindevelopingcountriestoconnectteachersandstudents.Webothhad
bigdreamstochangetheworldaroundus.Thoseinitialweekswereamazing.EvenwhenCraigwould
belittleaworkcolleagueIputitdowntostressandtherecipientpossiblydeservingit.Iwastooblinded
bymyfeelingstoseethatCraighadameanstreakamilewideandhewasnotafraidtouseittocuta
persondowntosize.
IwasblindtohismeannessuntilthefightthatendeditbetweenusandIthenfelthisfullwrath.Weboth
hadacoupleofcocktailsonusthathorriblenightandIdon'tevenrememberwhattheinitialseedwasthat
started the momentum going and swung us closer to the horrible moment. What I do remember crystal
clearandwhichstillstingseverytimeIthinkaboutit,istheonewordhecalledme.Ihadn'tbeencalledit
sinceIwaseightyearsoldandneveronceasasuccessfulwomanwithanexcitingcareerIshouldn'toflet
his cheap insult get to me. I did and it stills hurts me a month later. As a woman I thought I had the
resilience to rise above his words but hearing him shout it into my face had hurt me to my core. Craig
knewexactlywhatwordgrenadetolobatapersonsweakpoint.
AttheheightoftheargumentasitspunoutofcontrolCraiglookedatmewithcoldeyesandsaid,“You
knowwhatyourproblemis?”
“What?”Isaidinaclippedvoice.Icouldseehewasreadyinghimselftosaysomethingthattherewould
benocomingbackfrom.
“You’reanuglybitch.”
Theworduglyhungintheairbetweenuslikeaswarmofbitingblackflies.Heglaredatmewaitingfor
metoreact.
Hearinghimcallmeuglywasworsethanaslaptotheface.Thewordwaslikeapunchtomystomach.
He stood watching me his lower lip quivering in defiance. I could see in his eyes that he knew he had
gonetoofar.IcouldfeelangerwellupinsidemeliketherisingmagmaofavolcanoandIexplodedand
shoutedastringofhurtfulthingsathim.Heabsorbedmywordswithoutshowinganycrackofemotionand
thatwasit.AssoonashesteppedoutthedoorandslammeditbehindhimIcrumpledontothecouch.I
feltugly.InmywallowingpityIthoughtthatCraigwasrightanditwasdevastating.Iphonedinsickfora
fewdaysandatepizzaandbingewatchedsomeshows.Icouldn'tfacelookinginamirror,afraidtolook
attheuglywomanthatCraigknewIwas.OnceIgotbackintoworkandreconnectedwiththeworld,we
hadaseriesofcurtemailexchangesanditwasoverbetweenus.
Ugly.Thewordlodgedinmymindafterthebreakup.IfamanglancedinmydirectionIimaginedhewas
seeing a twisted horrible creature that he pitied. I was an intelligent woman and no matter how much I
triedtoescapefromtheshadowofthathorribleworditrearedupagainandmademefeellikeatroll.My
confidence swung to a new low and every time I thought about him shouting it in my face I imagined a
horribledistortedversionofmyfacefloatingbeforehim.Anosetoobroadandflat,eyesthatbuggedout
slightlyandskinthatwastoodark.IknewinapartofmedeepinsidethatIlookednothinglikethefunfair
mirrorversionofmyself.Logiccouldn'treachmeduringthattimeandasthewoundstartedtohealIlet
my heart harden. I was suspicious of mens intentions and pulled back from any that flirted with me on
nightsout.
Ugly.Withthatsinglewordhehadknockedmedownandmademedoubtmyperceptionofmyself.Iwas
evenstartingtogetangrywithmyselfforallowinghishurtfulwordstobestillbeaffectingme.Whenthe
opportunitytocometoIcelandtodemoourapplicationcameupIjumpedatit.Ineededtobeawayfrom
SanFranciscoforawhile.IneededtobeawayfromeveryoneIknewallsoIcouldtrytoshakeoffwhat
Craig had done to me. On the plane from the states I had leafed through the inflight magazine. It was
packed with features about the rugged landscape of Iceland, the stunning blue glaciers and the fiery
volcanoes.Itwasalsofilledwiththetypesofmenthatlookedtomeliketheycamefromanotherage.Men
who worked outdoors, who worked with their hands and had a touch of the viking about them. An old
fashioned man who would sweep you off your feet and carry you to his log cabin close to a waterfall.
TherewasnotmuchofthatkindofguyinthetechsceneinSanFrancisco.Iknewitwasfoolishtothink
such a man really existed. Maybe I need someone like this I thought as I had traced my finger over a
pictureofamuscularIcelandicmanstandingatopaglacierandstaringofftowardsthesettingsun.
Theplanedroppedsuddenlyandeveryoneinthecabinmoanedinfright.Gunnareachedoutandtookmy
handandIwashappyforthehumancontact.TheplanebankedhardandIsqueezedtightonGunna’shand.
Myeyeswerefixedontheswirlingsnowoutsidethewindow.Itlookedlikewewereinthemiddleofa
massiveblizzard.
TheintercomcrackledtolifeandthepilotspokeinthesingsongcadenceoftheIcelandiclanguage.Once
he was finished he switched to English, speaking in a perfect British news anchor's clipped and
enunciatedtone.
“Iamsorryaboutthislittlepatchofweatherwehavehit.Wearegoingtohavetodiverttheflighttothe
townofIsafjordur.Populationonethousandfivehundred.Theflightwillbegroundedforthedayandwe
hopetohaveanotherscheduledfortomorrow.Weapologiseforthechangeofdestination.Allflightcrew
prepareforlanding.”crackledthepilotsvoiceovertheintercom.
The plane bounced in the air and the engines made a high pitched whirring sound. The seatbelt sign
blinked on and we strapped ourselves in. Gunna laced her fingers in mine and we gripped each other
tight.Icouldn'ttearmyeyesawayfromthewindowasIwatchedthetipofthewingvibrateinthestorm.I
imagined we where inside a huge snow globe and an unruly child was shaking it as hard as he could.
BeyondthelightthattheplanecastIcouldseenothingbuttotalblackness.
ItisaclichetosaythatoutlivesflashbeforeusintimesofdangerbutasIstaredoutattheswirlingstorm
and the plane lurched from side to side by the buffeting winds, events from my life buzzed through my
brain.WhenIwassixmyaunttookmetoarestaurantwhilemymotherwasinhospital.Ihadclimbedup
onthebackofthehighbackedboothchairsandstareddownintotheinkyabyssbehindthem.Awiremesh
coveredthegapbetweenthechairandthewallandIranmyfingersacrossitfeelingthebuzzofitagainst
myskin.Inthecornerwherethetwochairbacksmettherewasaholeinthewirebigenoughtofitmyfist
into.Iglancedovermyshoulderandmyauntwasreadingayellowingpaperbackandnotpayingattention
tome.Istretchedmyarmdownintotheholeandkeptitstillsothatitwouldn'tscratchagainstthefrayed
piecesofthewiremesh.MyskinhadprickledasIlowereditdownintothedarkness.Theairwascool
downthereanditthrilledmetoreachbehindanddiscoverthissecretplace.Igrabbedmyfavouritedoll
off the table. She had pale skin, long blonde hair and unrealistic proportions. I loved that doll and she
travelledeverywherewithme.Iheldherbythehairandthendangledherovertheholebehindthechairs.
I looked back at my aunt to see her reaction. There was none, she continued to leaf through her book
withoutlookinguponce.
I lowered the doll into the cool air of the hole. The skin on the back of my neck prickled and a jolt of
pleasurecoursedalongmyback.Iraisedthedollbackoutoftheholeandheldherdanglingabovethepit
like I had seen in a morning cartoon. Then I looked my doll in the eyes one last time and opened my
fingers. I felt a whoosh of butterflies in my stomach as I watched her fall into the hole and hit the
mysterious ground behind the booth chairs. My aunt looked up at me when she heard the noise of
somethingrattlingaroundandassoonasshelockedeyeswithmeIburstoutcrying.Iwasovercomewith
suchsadnessanddespairforthelossofmydoll.
Tearsstreamedoutofmyeyesandmyauntsprangintoaction.Itoldherwhathappened,addingthatitwas
anaccidentandnotadeliberatesacrificeofmydoll.Myauntcalledoverawaiterandwhenheseenhow
upsetiwashegotdownonthefloortoseeifhecouldsavemydoll.Thebottomoftheboothchairshad
boardsblockingoffanyaccesstotheunderneathandwhentheyoungwaitersaidthathecouldn'tgetmy
doll,mycryinguppedanotchandIbecamenearhysterical.
Themanagercamewithatoolboxandtriedtounscrewthechairsandafterawhilehehadtogiveupasit
wasn't possible to get in behind the booths without some serious work. My aunt apologised to the
managementandonthewayhomesheboughtmeanewdoll.Onethatwasmeanttobebetterthanmylost
one.IpretendedIwashappywithit,butthetruthwasIcouldneverlookatthereplacementwithoutbeing
remindedofmylostdoll.Ihidthenewoneatthebackofmywardrobesoasnottoberemindedofthat
day.
Agustofwindhittheplaneanditfeltlikeitwaspushedtothesideastheenginesstruggledagainstthe
gale force winds. Another image from my past flashed in my mind. One I wished I didn't have to think
about again. It was the last night with Craig and the horrible fight we had. The wind eased off and the
whirringsoundsoftheenginereducedinvolume.Iclosedmyeyestightandpushedawayallthoughtsof
Craig.I’mnotgoingtowasteanothersecondonthatbastardItoldmyself.Lifeistooshorttoletaman
likehimgetunderyourskin.Heisthetrueuglyoneifhecouldsaysomethingsofullofmalicetoyou.
Screwhim.I’vewastedtoomuchtimebeingdown,ifwegetthroughthisIpromisemyselfthatIwillstart
openingmyheartagain.IwontwasteanymoretimefeelingsorryformyselfIchantinmymind.Whenwe
touchdownitsthestartofanewyou,andthenewyouisgoingtotakechancesItoldmyself.
Gunnasqueezedmyhandandsaid,“Areyouok?”
InoddedmyheadandthenrealisedIhadstartedtosmile.“ImademyselfapromiseandIintendtokeepit
onceweland.”
“Ipromisedmyselfalargeglassofwhiskeywhenwetouchdown,”Gunnareplied.
“Rightnowthatsoundsperfect,”Isaid.
Icursedinwardlyandtriednottogettoostressedaboutmymissedappointment,therewasnochancethat
I would make it to the conference in the north of the island now. It was a big deal to get invited to the
university in Akureyri and it was part of an arctic union with other universities across the nordic
countries.IfIwassuccessfulinAkureyriitmightopenupaccesstootherplaces.Ihopedthattheywould
beokwithmedelayingthemeeting.Itwasaconstantfearinthetechworldthatyourcompetitormight
swoop in and capitalise on any of your mistakes. We had already had two engineers poached by a
companycalledteachtechpartnerswhoweredemoingasimilarpieceofsoftwaretoours.Ibelievedin
ourproductwithallmyheartandteachtechsofferingwaslackingincertainareas.IfImessedupthese
meetingsandteachtechgotwindofittheymightbeabletoelbowmeoutofthedeal.
SeveraluniversitiesinIcelandhadshownaninterestinoursoftwareandthismeetingwasgoingtobea
bigdealformysmallteamoffive.WhenIhadtoucheddowninIcelandonlyhoursagoonadirectflight
from San Francisco the weather had been clear and crisp in the capital of Reykjavik. I had no time to
enjoythecityasIthenheadedstraightforthetinycitycentreairportformyconnectingflighttothetown
ofAkureyri.
TotrytotakemymindofftheplanebeingbuffetedinthestrongwindImentallywentthroughmyoptions.
IneededtobeattheUniversityinAkureyribynoontomorrow,maybeIcouldrentacaranddrivethere?
Ormaybetheflighttomorrowwouldgetmethereinenoughtime.Eitherwayitwasgoingtobetight.I
only hoped that if I couldn't make it in time the dean would reschedule, but with it being this close to
ChristmasIwasn'tsureifthatwouldbeapossibility.Myteamwouldbeguttedifthisallfellapartand
teachtechscoredawinagainstus.
“WhatdoyouthinkmychancesofgettingtoAkureyribytomorrow?”IaskedGunna.
She shook her head and said, “its a complete white out, most likely the roads will be closed. We are
landinginaveryremotepartofthecountry.”
Ipulledtheplasticshutterdownonthewindow,Ididn'twanttowatchtheragingstormanymore.“CanI
takealternativeroadsout?Whataboutthehighway?”
Gunnagavemeagentlesmileandsaid,“Haveyouseenamapofthecountry?”
Ihad,inoneoftheinflightmagazines.Inoddedmyhead.
“Ifyouimaginethecountrylookinglikeaducksbody,thenwearelandingintheheadarea.Itsthemost
remotepartofthecountry.ThereisonlyoneroadinandoneroadoutconnectingtotherestofIceland.In
ablizzardlikethistheroadwillbeclosed,I’mreallysorry.”
Iwasabouttoaskheranotherquestionwhentheplanebankedhardanddroppedbelowthecloudline.
GunnagrippedmyhandtightandIletoutapanickedmoan.Thewholeplanewasshakinganditsounded
like it was tearing itself apart. Metal whined under the stress of the storm and the engines increased in
volumetoahighpitchedwhine.Ipulleduptheshutteronthewindow.Ihadtoseeoutsideonelasttimeif
weweregoingdown.
ItwassnowingheavilyandoffinthedistanceIcouldseeatinytownonasmallpieceoflandjuttingout
intothewater.Thetownwasinadeepfjordwithsteeplybankedmountainsoneitherside.Atthefarend
of the fjord was a steep snow capped mountain and from this angle it looked like we where heading
straightforit.
I couldn't take my eyes off the looming mountain as it expanded in my view. This is it I thought as the
heavinessofdreadweigheddownonme.I’mgoingtodieonthisplane,itsgoingtocrashrightintothe
mountainside.IknowitI’mabouttodie.MyknucklespoppedasIsqueezedontighttoGunna'shand.
Astheplanelowereditsaltitudewewereshookbystrongcrosswindsandsomeoverheadcompartments
flung open. A bag spilled out onto the ground and an air steward got out of her seat, swaying back and
forthasshenavigatedtheaisleandfinallycloseditonhersecondattempt.Herfacewastautandbetrayed
noemotions.SheknowswearegoingtocrashIthoughtasIlookedbackoutatthemountainfillingmy
view.
Astheplanebankedhardtheviewfrommywindowwasreplacedandfilledwiththesightofgreychoppy
water.Icouldfeelpanicriseasitlookedlikewehaddodgedthemountainonlytocrashintothesea.I
screwedmyeyesshutreadytofeelthefinalmomentofimpact.Itdidn'tcomeandwithinafewsecondsI
couldfeeltheplanerightitselfandthenwetoucheddownsoftlyontherunwaywithonefinalhopbefore
thewheelsconnectedtotheearthagain.
Iunselfconsciouslyletoutaloudwhoopofjoyandthenfeltalittlesheepishlookingaroundatthevery
reserved faces of the all Icelandic passengers. Gunna saw my sheepish look and gave a whoop of her
own.Thissetoffachainreactionacrossthecabinandeveryonethenjoinedinwiththeirowntriumphant
shout.
“Thatwasintense,”Gunnasaid.
Isighedasrelieffilledmybody.“Thatsanunderstatement.”
WestillhadourfingerslacedtogetherandGunnaliftedourhandsupandkissedthebackofmyhand.Her
lipsweresoftandwarmandwhatshouldofbeenastrangemomentofintimacy,feltcompletelynatural
afterwhatwehadbeenthrough.
“Ithinkwesharedamoment,”Gunnasaidsmilingandlettingmyhandgo,“Icanseeusbecomingfirm
friends.”
“Agreed.Areyoustillupforadrink?”Iasked.
“Surething.Thereisnotgoingtobetoomanyoptionsforaccommodation.OncewegetthatsortedIthink
weshouldhitthetown.I’llshowyouhowanIcelandicwomanlikestoparty,”Gunnasaidwithawicked
smile.
IrememberedthepromiseIhadmadetomyselfwhenIwasatmymostfrightened.Iwasgoingtogetback
tolivingafulllifeandtakemorechances.ThedaysoflettingCraig'swordshurtmeareover.Itwastime
toopenupmyheartagainandallowpeopletogetclosetome.Nowwasthetimetostandinthecrushing
windandtheblowingsnowandtoshoutatthetopofmylungs,“ScrewyouCraig.Younolongerhaveany
poweroverme.”
“Tellme,”Gunnasaid,“youhaveabigsmileonyourface.”
“IthinkIfinallymovedpastsomethingthatwasholdingmeback,”Isaid.
“Seeingyourlifeflashbeforeyouwilltendtodothat,“Gunnasaidandleanedintomeandwhispered.
WebothburstoutlaughingatthedirtypledgeGunnatoldmeshewasgoingtofulfiltonight.
ChapterTwo
The plane taxied up to a small terminal and within a few minutes we were all off and relieved to be
stepping onto the concrete of the runway. Snow battered us and Gunna hooked arms with me as we
crossedtheshortwalktotheinvitingandbrightlylitbuilding.Itwasonlymidafternoonbutthesunwas
alreadysettingandtherapidlyfadinglightmadeitfeellikemuchlater.
Onceinsidetheterminal,peoplerushedtheonesmallinformationdeskastheywaitedforthebagstobe
takenofftheplane.
“YoutakeaseatandI’llsortoutaplacetostayandataxiintotown,”Gunnasaid.
I found a seat in the corner and took out my computer to immediately start emailing people to try to
reschedulemymeetings.TheintercominthesmallairportcrackledtolifeandamessageinIcelandicand
thenEnglishconfirmedthattheplanewasgroundedforthenightandthattherewasagoodchancethatit
wouldbegroundedalloftomorrowaswell.Thevoicecontinuedandalertedusthatduetoanincoming
snowstormallroadsoutwouldbeclosedforatleasttwentyfourhours.
Ilookedupfrommylaptopscreenandtherewasalargemansittingacrossfromme.Ifyoutoldmethathe
couldwrenchtreesfromthegroundbarehandedIwouldhavebelievedyou.Helookedlikeanillustration
of a Viking ripped straight from a history book. He had shaggy sandy blonde hair and a couple of days
stubbledustedhissquarechin.HiseyeswereapiercingbluethecolourofthefamedIcelandicglaciersI
had read about. He looked strong and imposing and had an easy smile on his face. The next thing that
struck me about him was his goofy sweater he wore. It was knitted in chunky wool and had a band of
reindeerloopingaroundtheneckandabandofelvesaroundthewaist.Itwasbrightandgarishandnot
completely fitting with his whole Viking vibe, but I liked it. It gave him a whimsical edge that I found
charming.
“IstheresomewhereIcanrentacarfrom?IneedtogettoAkureyrifortomorrow”Isaidtothishandsome
Viking. It wasn't the smoothest opening line but it did the job of striking up a conversation, even if I
alreadyknewtheanswer.
“I’msorryallroadsoutoftownareclosedbecauseofavalanchewarnings,theycouldtakeafewdaysto
clear”hesaidinperfectEnglishandinadeepgravellyvoice.Imagesofwaterfallssurgingthroughsnow
coveredvalleysandavikingonahorsechargingacrossthelandscapefilledmyimagination.
ItriedtokeepmycoolbutinsideIwaspanickingalittle.Hehadnowconfirmedthatthemeetingwasa
bustandifIwastrappedinthistownforafewdaysIcouldmissmyflightbackhome.Thingsjustkept
gettingworseItoldmyselfandthenmentallybackpeddled.GrabontonewsituationsandadventuresI
thought.
“Do you have somewhere to stay” he asked me. His eyes had a friendly twinkle and I felt a fizzle of
pleasureinmystomachwhenhesmiledatme.
“Myfriendisattheinformationdesknow.I’llknowwhenshegetsback,”Isaid.
The Viking mans cheeks reddened a little before he spoke again. “I hope I am not being too forward. I
haveasmallplaceontheedgeoftown.Youcouldhavethesparebedroomifyouwant.Therearetwo
bedsforyouandyourfriend.ItcouldsaveyouhavingtospendanyKronuronthehotelintown.Thetown
onlyhasoneandtheymightincreasethepricesknowingtheyhaveaplanefulloftrappedpassengers.”
“Idon'tevenknowyourname”Isaid,quicklyweighingupmyoptions.
Heputoutalargemeatyhandandsaid“I’mJonasDanielsson”.Ireachedoutandshookitandmyhand
was engulfed in the large expanse of his. His hand emanated a dry warmth and felt course against the
softnessofmine.Icouldfeelthathewasamanwhoworkedwithhishands.Iwassousedtoworkingand
dating men who only ever used there hands for typing in code for programming our software. The tech
industry was packed with soft palmed hands and feeling his rough hand against mine sent off another
pleasurablefireworkinmybelly.
“I’mSashaLee,nicetomeetyouJonas”Isaid.OureyeslockedandIfeltatinglerundownmyspine.I
satbackinmychairandsaid“Areyoufromthistown?”.
Jonaslookeddownandranhishandalongthebackofhisneck.Forthebriefestofsecondsheseemedlike
alittleboywhowaslostandscared.AsquicklyasInoticedit,itflittedawayandthestrongmanwasin
frontofmeagain.
“Iusedtolivehere.Imovedawaythreeorfouryearsago.Istillhaveaplace.Ihaven'tbeenbackfora
fewyears.”hesaid.
Idon'tknowwhybutItrustedthisman.Heexudedawarmthandyettherewasaqualitytohimthatmaybe
Iwasonlypickingupbecausemymemoriesofitweresorecent,helookedlikehehadbeenhurtaswell.
“Makingfriendsalready,”Gunnasaiddroppingherbagatmyfeet.HerbackwastoJonasandshegave
mealittlewinkbeforeturningaroundtoshakehishand.
AftertheygreetedeachotherGunnaturnedtomeandsaid,“WellIhavesomebadnews.”
IglancedoveratJonasandhewaslookingatGunnawithasmileonhisface.Ifeltaballoftensioninmy
chestandthoughtofcoursehe'sgoingtobecheckingouttheblondemodel,don'tletitgettoyou..
“All rooms are sold out in the hotel. The guy at the desk told me they are opening a sports hall at the
schoolandsettingupbedsforanyonewhocantgetaroom,”Gunnasaid.
“I can do you one better,” I said smiling and returning the wink when Jonas wasn't looking, “Jonas has
offeredtoputusupforthenightifwearestuck.”
“YouAmericansarefastmovers,”GunnasaidandthenturnedtoJonas.ShespoketohiminIcelandicand
Iwatchedasredspreadfromtheneckofhissweateranduphischeeksuntiltheybothstartedtolaugh.
Jonasstoodupasabroadsmilespreadacrosshisfaceandsaid,“Thatsgreat,letmegoandarrangea
taxi.Myplaceisnottoofarfromhere.”
“Whatdidyousaytohim?”IaskedGunnaasshesatdownbesideme.
“Iwasmakingsurehewasn'tsomekindofweirdo.ToldhimaboutacoupleofthefishermenthatIknow
andifanythinghappenedtometheywouldcomeandgethim.Icouldtellhe’sagoodguy,”Gunnareplied.
“Ithinkhewascheckingyouout,”Isaid,hopingIdidn'tsoundjealous.
Gunnashookherheadandsaid,“He’snotmytype.Iworkwithmenlikehimeveryday.Guyswhostill
thinktheyarevikings.Iammoreintouphere,”shesaidpointingtoherhead,“thenthemusclyoutdoors
man.”
“YouwouldbefightingthemoffinthecirclesImixin,”IsaidandifIwashonestalittlebitrelieved.
“Isthataninvitation?”Gunnasaidandwinkedatme.
InthecentreofthesmallterminalwastheluggagecarouselandIsawmybaggobyforthesecondtime.I
got up and grabbed it before it headed back out the swinging plastic door. Ruddy faced locals were
milling about collecting their bags and then pulling up the collars of their jackets before heading out to
bravethestorm.IsatbackdownbesideGunnaandwithinafewminutesJonaswasbackandweheaded
outside to an awaiting taxi. Before we got into the cab I caught Jonas looking at Gunna again with the
samehalfsmileonhisface.Myheartsankagain,shemightnotbeinterestedinhimbutitwasobviousthat
he had a barely concealed interest in her. Why wouldn't he be after a woman that looked like a model,
you’retoouglyavoicethatsoundedlikeCraigscrueltonesbubbledupinmymind.Ihadtostopthinking
likethisandmoveonIthoughtasIgotintothebackofthecabwithGunna.Jonasslammedthetrunkofthe
cabshutandsqueezedhisbigframeintothefrontseatofthecar.
Wedrovealongathinonelaneroadthatloopedaroundtheedgeofawidemouthedfjord.Atthefarend
ofthefjordwasahighimposingmountaincappedwithsnow.Itwasthesamemountainthatitlookedlike
wewouldcrashintoastheplanebankedhardtowardstheairport.
As the road curved around the fjord, putting the mountain behind us we headed towards a thin strip of
lights which looked like it floated above the choppy waves. Jonas pointed and said “Thats Isafjordur
town.Itjutsoutintotheseaonaverythinpieceofland.Muchofithasbeenreclaimedfromtheseaover
thecoupleofhundredyearsthatsettlershavebeenhere.”
“Isitafishingtown”Iasked.
“At one point that was the main industry here, but times change and fishing is currently dying out. The
townspopulationisslowlydwindling.”hesaidwithasoftmelancholictone.
Gunnapointedacrossthebayandsaid,“Doyouseethattinystripoflandacrossthere.”
I looked across the crashing waves and through the blizzard I could just about make out a dim line of
lights.“Iseeit.”
“Thatswherewelanded.I’mgladIcouldn'tseeitwhenwewerecomingin.Afriendsentmeavideoof
it and even when the conditions are perfect it looks scary. I think I’ll be driving back out of the fjords
whenthesnowclears.Whenisyourflightbacktothestates?”
“Ihavefourdays.Doyouthinkthestormwillbeclearedbythen?”
Jonasturnedaroundinhisseatandsaid,“Thenewsissayingitsgoingtobeabigone.Icangointotown
tomorrowandseeifIcangetsomeonewithajeeptogetyouwhereyouneedtobegoing.”
JonasturnedbackandstartedtotalktothedriverinIcelandic.Gunnareachedoverandsqueezedmyleg
rightabovemykneeandIslappedherhandawayandsuppressedalaughfromescaping.StillIthought,if
JonasmadeamoveonGunnaitwouldnotsurprisemeatall.
Withinafewminuteswehadpassedthetownandwhereheadedoutpastthelaststreetlightsandplunged
intoapressingdarknessaswefollowedthethinsnakingroadasitfollowedthecurveofthecoast.The
onlylightsnowweretheonescomingfromourcabaswecutthroughtheblowingstorm.
The taxi turned off the road and we bumped along a pitted gravel road for a few minutes. While Jonas
wastakingouthiswallettopay,thedriverlookedbackatmeandsaidsomethinginIcelandictoJonas.
Gunna’smouthfellopeninsurpriseandsheletoutahighspeedgarbleofIcelandicwords.Jonas’sface
reddenedandheraisedhisvoiceatthedriverandinaquickburstofspeechsaidsomethingangrilytothe
man, then he paid him quickly and we got out. The driver stared at me with a sour face and he looked
awaywhenJonasgavehimathreateninglook.
Aharshwindwhippedacrossusaswestoodbeforeasmallwoodenhouse.Jonasquicklyfishedouthis
keysandthankfullywewhereinsidewiththedoorshuttightlybehinduswithinafewseconds.Jonasface
wasstillalittleredfromhisencounterwiththetaxidriver.“Whatwasthatallabout?”Isaid.
“Thatguywasajerk,”Gunnasaidandavertedhereyesfromme.
“Tellme,”Isaid.Thetaxidrivercouldn'tofsaidanythingthatIhadn'theardahundredtimesbeforeasa
woman,orasawomanofcolour.
“Hetriedtomakeajoke,”Gunnasaid.
“He’saracistasshole,”Jonassaidwithanger,“hesaidsomethingsaboutyouthatwereoutofline.Iwas
readytopunchhimforbeingsorudetoyou.”
Gunna reached out and patted Jonas on his thick bicep. I pretended not to notice this gesture. It always
startwiththelittlethings.Atouchofthearm.Brushingagainstoneanother.Eyecontactthatlastedabeat
toolong.ItwasobvioustomethatGunnalikedhim.
“Iguessyougetthemeverywhere,”Isaidhopingtomoveonfromthesubject.
“It’stheoldergeneration.Theycanthandlechange.Theyoungareleavingtheruralareasindrovesand
foreignersaremovingintotakethejobsnooneelsewantstodo,”Gunnasaid.
“Itsnoexcuse.Ifitmakesyoufeelanybetterheisanassholetoeveryone,”Jonassaidtome.
“Ithinktheonlythingthatwouldmakemefeelbetterisastiffdrink,”Isaidwantingtochangethesubject.
“I’lldrinktothat,”Gunnasaid.
Jonaslookedannoyedandcontinued.“Hewasbeinganassholeandsaidsomeinappropriatethingsabout
you,Icantstandthesmallmindednessofsomeofthesecountrypeople”hesaid.
Ididn'tneedJonastospellitoutforme,Icouldimaginewhatkindofdrivelthetaximanhadspoutedoff.
EversinceI’dfirstlandedinIcelandI’dnoticedacoupleofstaresfromsomelocalpeople.Nothingtoo
obviousbutIcouldfeelthelooksandglancesasIhadwaitedinthesmallcityairportformyconnecting
flight. So far I hadn't seen any other black people so maybe it was just curiosity from the locals. Or at
leastIhopeditwasthat.
“Don’tworryabouthim”Isaid.IpattedhimononhisshouldertoreassurehimIwasokay.Icouldfeel
tightmusclesevenunderthesubstantialbulkofhiswinterjacket.Hebrightenedupatmytouchandmy
stomach did a happy lurch at his reaction to my hand on his shoulder. Maybe I was wrong about his
interestinGunnaIthought.
“Thisisyourroom,”:Jonassaidpointingtoadooroffthecorridor.IwatchedasJonasandGunnatook
theirshoesoffandlinedthemuponawoodenstandinthecornerofthehall.Icopiedthemandaddedmy
shoestotheshelf.
Gunnapaddedacrossthewellwornwoodenfloorandopenedthedoortoourroom.Asinglebedwasin
eachcornerandbetweenthemwasawoodendresserthatlookedlikeitcouldbeahundredyearsold.
“I’llgetyouduvetsandpillows,everythingispackedawayinstorage.I’llleaveyoutwoalonetosettle
in,”Jonassaidandgaveasmallbowtobothofus.AsIpassedhimIcaughthimwatchingGunnaagain
withasmilecurlingthecornersofhismouth.SobeitIthoughtasIclosedthedoorbehindme.
We stowed away our bags under the beds and I could hear Jonas began making some coffee in the tiny
kitchen at the end of the hallway. The house was small and sparsely decorated. The walls were bare
varnishedwoodwithblackandwhitepicturesofthetownhungonthem.Apictureofafishingboatwith
fivemenwithbigbushybeardsdominatedoneofthewallsintheroom.
IsatdownonthebedandGunnalaydownacrossfromme.Shecrossedherarmsbehindherheadand
closedhereyes.“Ilovetheseoldhomes.Theyremindmeofmygrandparents.Theylivedinahouselike
thisonaremotefarmupnorth.Iusedtospendthesummerswiththemhelpingoutwiththesheepandthe
horses.ThereisasmellwhenIwalkintooneoftheseoldhousesthatremindsmeofmygrandmotherand
hersoftwrinkledhandsasshesatinthecornerknittingsweatersforthewinter.Thewinterwasalways
comingandfamilymembersalwaysneedednewsweaters.”Gunnabreathedindeeplyandsaid,“Canyou
smellit?Itsdecadesofvarnishandpolishlovinglyappliedtothewoodenfloors.Italwaystakesmeright
back.”
Ibreathedinthesweetscentofthepolishandsaid,“It’sthesmellofpipetobaccothatremindsmeofmy
grandparents.Itsascentthatisrarerandrarereveryday,”Isaid.
“AlotoftheguysoutinthecountrysidestillsmokepipesandIlovethatsmell,itsahabitIprefertothe
alternative,”Gunnasaid.
“Whatsthat?”Iasked.
“Idon'tknowwhattheenglishwordforitis.Itwouldbesomethinglike‘chew’,”Gunnasaid.“It’swhen
yougetthetobaccoinlittlepaperpouchesandstickitintoyourmouthandholditagainstyourgum.Then
everysooftenyouhavetospitouthorribletobaccospit.Lotsoftheboatcaptainsindulgeinthathabit.”
“Soundsgross.Ithinksomefolksdothatbackhomeaswell,”Isaidstretchingoutandlyingbackonmy
bed.ThebaremattressgroanedasImademyselfcomfortableandthenclosedmyeyes.
“WhatdoyouthinkofJonas?”Gunnasaidinawhisper.
“Heseemsnice,”Isaid.
Gunnaturnedovertofacemeandsaid,“Icaughthimcheckingyououtafewtimes.”
Iflippedoverandlayonmysideandfacedher.Iarchedmyeyebrowandsmiled.
“Doyouwanttoheadintotownandgetafewbeersinawhile?”Gunnaaskedme.
Ididn’tgettoanswerasJonasknockedonourdoorandsaid,“CanIcomein?”
GunnagavemeanotheroneofherwinksandIsaid,“Comeonin.”
Whenthedooropenedthearomaoffreshlybrewedcoffeefilledtheroom.“I’vemadesomecoffeefor
youtwoladies,”Jonassaid.Helookedlikeagiantstandinginthedoorway.Hisshoulderswerebroad
andhisChristmassweaterwasmouldedontothethickmusclesofhisarms.JonaslookeddownatGunna
relaxing on the bed and his smile widened. I felt the ball of tension in my stomach grow. I knew deep
downthatIwasbeingsillyforfeelinganykindofjealousytowardsGunna.Shewasatallleggyblonde
withsupermodelgoodlooksandwasI,wellIwasjustme.IhadnochanceagainstherandIhadcaught
Jonaslookingatherandsmilingwhenhewasn'tawareIwaslooking.
“Whatareyousmilingat?”Gunnaaskedhim.
“IthinkIknowyou,”Jonassaid.
GreatIthought,thisiswhereI’llbepushedofftotheside.NormallyIwouldn'tcarebuteversinceIhad
firstmetJonasIcouldn'tkeepmyeyesoffhim.Thewayhemoved,howhelockedeyeswhentalkingto
me,likeitwasthemostimportantthingever.ThisisitIthoughtasIlookedatthemsmilingateachother,
andwhatagoodlookingcoupletheywouldmake.
“Ihavecousinsthatlivehere.Ispentasummerhere…”
Jonascutheroffandsaid,“Workinginthefishingfactory?”
Gunna'scheeksstartedtoturnredandhersmilebegantolosesomeofitsshine.“Didyouworkthere?”
shesaidinalowvoice.
“Idid.IthinkIworkedtherethesamesummerasyou.Youwerethegirlwhofellintothealltheguts?”he
saidandhissmilebroadened.
Gunnawentbeetredandsaid,“Thatwasmealright.”
Jonaslaughedanditwasn'tasoundofcruelty.“IthoughtIrecognisedyou.Thesamethinghappenedtome
twoweeksafteryouleft.”HeburstoutlaughingandsoontheredwasfadingonGunna'scheeksandshe
joinedinwithhim.
“Whathappened?”IaskedGunna.
“AsateenageritwastheworstthingthatcouldhappeninfrontoftheboysIfancied.Isupposeasanadult
itsnotsobad.”
“Nothingtobeembarrassedabout,”Jonassaidreassuringher.
“Iworkedinafishfactoryontheprocessingline.Iwasonaraisedplatformremovingtheheadsandguts.
Allthosepartsfellintoamassivetubbesidemyplatform.OnedayIwasworkingawayandthenthenext
secondIwasslippingandIfellofftheplatformintothefishguts.Iwascoveredfromheadtotoe.They
hadtostoptheprocessinglineandrescuemeandthenhosemedown.Everyonewasstandingaroundand
laughing.Ismeltoffishgutsforweeks.Itwashorrible.Iquitthatday.”
JonassteppedintotheroomandcrossedovertoGunnaandgaveherapatontheshoulder.“Afteryouleft
Igotmovedtoyourpositionandwithintwoweeksthesamethinghappenedtome.Turnsouttheantislip
matswereworndown.Ileftsoonafter,theplacetreatedmostofthestaffverybadwithnoconcernfor
safety.
HowcanIcompetewiththisIthought,theyhaveasharedhistory.Idecidednottoobsessoveritanymore
andjusthaveagreatunexpectednightwithmynewfriends.
“Idon'trememberworkingwithyou,”Gunnasaid.
“Iwasonlythereaweekbeforeyouleft,”Jonasrepliedashegotup.“Wecancatchuplaterifyouwant.”
Helefttheroom.
“Sure,”Gunnasaidashewalkedout.Hecamebackacoupleofsecondslaterwithhisarmsfilledwith
bigfluffyduvetsandpillowsandfreshtowels.Hedroppedthemontomybedandsaid,“Coffeeisready
wheneveryouwanttojoinme.”
“I’m going to call it an early night,” Gunna said. My heart sped up in my chest. “I didn’t realise how
wreckedIwasuntilIlaydownhere.Youtwoenjoyyourself.”
ThatwasunexpectedIthoughtasJonasturnedandlefttheroom.
“Areyousureyoudon'twanttojoinus?”Iaskedhopingshewouldsayno.
Gunnagavemeacutesmileandsaid,“I’veseenhowhewaslookingatyou,IcanassureyouI’donlybe
gettingintheway.”Myheartspedupevenmore.“Go,enjoyyourselfandifyouneedanyhelpgivemea
shout,”shesaidandgaveadirtylaugh.
ChapterThree
Jonas was standing in the kitchen with his back to me and staring out the windows at the snow slowly
falling.Amugwithapuffinstandingonarockwasonthecounterbesidehimandheturnedandsmiled
whenheheardmecoming.
“Tonightlookslikeitwillbeperfectconditionsforagreatshow”hesaidpointingup.
I looked out the window and I could see that white clouds were beginning to part, exposing a dazzling
arrayofstarsabove.“Doyouthinkwewillseethenorthernlights?”Iaskedinanexcitedvoice.
Ever since I was a little girl the beautiful display was something I had dreamt of seeing. I had seen a
commercialforasugarydrinkthathadananimatedbearsittingbackandlookingupatthemostamazing
displayoflightsinthesky.WhenIaskedmyMotherwhatitwasIwasseeingandsherepliedandtoldme
thatshedidnotknowImadeitmymissiontofindout.ThenextdayatthepubliclibraryIsatatoneof
their large oak tables, my little legs swinging in the big chair as I sat on its edge and looked through
picturebooksexplainingthephenomenon.
AsIleafedthroughthebook,beautifulimagesofNorwayandFinlandfilledmyimagination,daydreams
of Vikings and Inuits looking to the sky and gazing at the spectacle entranced and excited me. It was
something I always wanted to see and one thing or the other had stopped me from ever fulfilling that
dream.
“WouldyouwanttoseethemIcelandicstyle?”Jonasaskedmewithawickedgrinonhisface.
“I’dlovetoseethem”Isaidasasmilecurledthecornerofmymouth,“WhatsIcelandicstyle?”
“Ifyouwanttobelikeatruelocalyouhavetositoutunderthestarsandgazeuponthenorthernlightsina
hotpot.Ihopeyouhaveaswimsuitwithyou”hesaidfillingmycupwithsteamingcoffee.
“Idoindeed.Whatsahotpot?”Iasked.
Jonas pointed pointed out the window at the corner of the house and I could see the edge of a covered
jacuzzi. “In olden times we would sit out in natural pools of water heated by the natural geothermal
energy.Wedon'thavemuchgeothermalheatinginthispartofthecountrysoweusejacuzzis.”
Thehairsonthebackofmyneckprickledathispronunciationoftheword.TheJhadasoftnesstoitand
theZ’shadasoftrollingqualitytothem.IwaspreparedforthisoutdoorsexcursionasIhadreadaboutit.
AlltheguidebooksIhadreadhadrecommendedtobringaswimsuitasoutdoorpoolswereabigpartof
theIcelandiccultureandsomethingthateverytouristshouldexperience.IneverwouldofimaginedthatI
wouldbeinvitedintoahotpotbysuchagoodlookinglocal.
“Goodgood,I’llgoandgetthehotpotreadythen”hesaidfinishinghiscoffeeandleaving.Isippedthe
darkstrongcoffeeandrecalledaparticularlyvividillustrationfromabookIhadreadasayounggirl.It
wasofalargeVikingmanstrippedtothewaistwithanaxeinhishand.Hewasstandingstillasagranite
boulderandstaringupattheheavens.Abovehimwasthemostbeautifuldisplayofnorthernlights.Over
theyearsIhadromanticisedthesparklingribbonoflightinthenightskyandthemanwhogazeduponit.
Over the years when I was alone and needing comfort I would picture the burly Viking man taking me
under the northern lights, my dark skin accentuated against the snow white furs of an animal hide I lay
uponasthevikinghadhiswaywithme.Wasthisabouttohappentomeinreallife?Icouldfeelawarm
flushbetweenmylegsatthethoughtofit.
Iflashedbacktoafewhoursagointheplaneasitbuckedinblowingstorm,Ihadpromisedmyselftotake
morerisksandlivelifeinthemoment.Craigswordscamefromadistanceasifcarriedonafaintbreeze,
hecalledmeuglyinmymindforthethousandthtimeandIdugmynailsinmypalmandtoldmyselfhehas
nomorepoweroveryou.Itstimetomoveonwithyourlife,maybetakeGunna'swiseadviceand“Fuck
the pain away.” I hadn't been with anyone since Craig devastated me and maybe a no strings one night
standwaswhatIneeded.Ihadonlyhadhadaonestandstandoncebeforealongtimeago.Gooutthere
havesomefunIthought,don'toverthinkit,youneedthistoreclaimapartofyourselfandtofinallybanish
Craigscruelwordsfromyourmind.
AblastofcoldairwhooshedintothekitchenwhenJonasreturned.Hewaswearingaluridpinkdressing
gownthatwasextremelyfluffy.Hedidaspininthekitchenandsaid,“Whatdoyouthink?”.
“Ithinkthecoloursuitsyou”Isaidsmiling.Myeyestraileddownhisbodyandthedressinggownhugged
hisbodyinalltherightareas.Iliftedmycoffeemuguptohidemysmileandtookanothersip.
“Everythingisallreadyoutside,thehotpotwillbeattheperfecttemperaturewhenwegoout.Youcan
useyourroomtochange.”Slungoverhisshoulderwasanotherbrightpinkgownandhepassedittome.
“I’llwaithereuntilyou’reready”hesaid.
GunnaopenedhereyeswhenIenteredandshesatupstretching.“Someonelookshappy.”
“Jonashasinvitedmeoutsidetohishotpottoseethenorthernlights,”Ireplied.
“Exciting,”Gunnasaidrubbinghereyes.
“Doyouwanttojoinus?”Iasked.PleasesaynoIthought.
“IthinkI’mdownforthenight.Youguyshavefun.I’msureyoubothwill,”shesaidwithagrin.
Idugthroughmysuitcaseandfoundmybikini.Itwassmallandwhiteandthecentreofthebrawasheld
togetherbyafauxshell.“Youcameprepared,”GunnasaidwhenIthrewitonthebed,sheturnedaround
inthebedandchuckledandsaid,“Youaresuregoingtohavefuntonight.”
Islippedoutofmyclothesandstoodfullynakedintheroom.Itthrilledmetothinkthatinthenextroom
sat a hulking Icelandic Viking. I slipped into my bikini and ran my hands over my body enjoying my
sensuouscurves.Ihadanextremelylargeandcurvyassandwhilemybreastswherenothugetheywhere
proportionednicelyandlookedgreatinthewhitebikinitop.MydeepchocolateskinlookedgoodandI
wasstartingtofeelverysexy.Ithrewaballedupt-shirtatGunnaandsheturnedaroundandgavemea
thumbsup.“Theydon'thavetoomanywomenlikeyouinIceland,”shesaid,“youlookmightyfine.”
“Thankyou,”Isaid.Hercomplimentfeltgood.Itiedmyhairupsoasnottogetitwetandthenslipped
intothefluffyrobe.Myrobewasaselectricpinkashisandwassnugandcozyagainstmyskin.
“AnytipsforhangingoutwithanIcelandicman?”IaskedasIreadiedmyselftoleave.
“Theymightnotlookitbuttheycanbeveryshy.OtherwiseIthinkyouwilldofine,”Gunnasaid.
I was ready now for whatever the night would bring. My new found confidence and urge to put Craigs
cruelwordsbehindmepushedmeon.AcoupleofmonthsagoIcouldnothaveimaginedthatIwouldbe
abletobeinabikiniinfrontofanotherman.Thefearofaplanecrashwillputanewperspectiveonlife
andIwasgoingtograbanychancesthatcamemyway.Beingsafehadhurtmeinthepast.Thenewme
wasreadyforfunandIwouldn'tletanymanhurtmeasmuchasCraigdid.
IwalkedoutofthebedroomlikeIwaswalkingonacushionofair.JonassmiledbroadlyatmewhenI
returnedtothekitchen.“Letsgo”hesaidandwewentoutthebackdoor.
We were immediately hit by a cold blast of air and slowly falling snowflakes stuck to my fluffy robe.
“Followme”saidJonasandweturnedthecorneraroundthesideofthehouse.
Alargesteaminghottubsatinashelteredcorner.Itwassituatedwithclearviewsacrossthefjordandthe
vastnightskystretchedaboveit.Smallwhitelightswhereembeddedintheshelteringwallsaroundthe
hottubcastingdancingshadowsacrossthesurfaceofthesteamingwater.
“AreyoureadyforaverytraditionalnightforanIcelander”Jonasaskedtakingoffhisrobeandhangingit
onahook.HestoodbeforemesmilingandIlikedwhatIsaw.Hewasbroadattheshoulderswithlarge
bicepsandhischestwastightanddefined.Thedimlightcastfromtheilluminationbesidethehotpots
castshadowsacrosshischestandstomachandIcouldmakeouttheridgesofhisabs.Iglanceddownand
IwassurethatforasecondIcouldseetheoutlineofhiscockagainsthisbaggyshorts.Ilookedawayand
hopedhehadn'tnoticedandIfeltaflushofwarmthinmycheeksandanotherflushofwarmthbetweenmy
legs.
His pale white skin glowed in the light reflected off the water. He looked like he was a quintessential
Viking,asifhewaspluckedfromoneofthemanyillustrationsIhadlovedstaringatasayounggirl.Ifit
was another time he would probably take me forcibly as his spoils no matter how much I protested. I
swallowedasimagesofhimsweepingmeupintohisarmsandcarryingmeacrossabattlefieldfilledmy
mind.IfeltmynippleshardenatthethoughtofthismoderndayVikingbeingsoclosetome.
Jonasgotintothehottubandsunkunderthesteamingwateruptohisshouldersandletoutacontented
sigh. He closed his eyes and lay his head back against the edge. I began to undo my robe and Jonas
openedhiseyesandwatchedme.Icouldseethathedidnotwanttotakehiseyesoffmebutalsowanted
tokeepuptheveneerofbeingagentleman.“Doyouwantmetoturnaway?”heasked.
“No,Idon'tmindyoulookingatme”Isaidfeelinganotherthrillcoursethroughmybody.Iwasneverthis
forwardandbeingevenslightlyplayfulwithJonasmademefeelgood.Ihadthoughtforwaytoolongthat
nomancouldeverbeinterestedinme.IthoughtfortoolongthatIreallywasugly.StopitItoldmyself
notwantingtogiveCraiganypoweroverthisbeautifulnight.
Ihungmyrobeupandstoodbeforehim.Iwonderedifhehadeverseenablackwomaninabikinithis
closeupbefore?JudgingbythestaresIgotinReykjavikIdoubtthelocalsseemanypeopleofcolour.
“Wowyoulookbeautiful”hesaid.IcouldfeelmynippleshardenevenmoreunderhisgazeandIquickly
gotintothehottubsohewouldn'tsee.Isubmergedmyselfuptomyshouldersanditfeltgreat.
“Thank you,” I replied as the warmth of the water radiated into my body. I moved my arms under the
surfaceanditfeltlikeIwasmovingthroughwarmsilk.
Wewereoutoftheworstofthewindandonlyafewsnowflakesfloateddownandmeltedinstantlywhen
theyhitthesurfaceofthehotpot.“Itsgoingtostopsoonandwiththisstrongwindweshouldhaveaclear
sky.Thenweshouldseesomenorthernlights”Jonassaid.
I giggled. I couldn't believe it, I was a grown woman and here I was giggling like a school girl. “You
soundhappy,”hesaid.
“I am. This is something I have dreamed about since I was a young girl” I said, “I was obsessed with
vikingsandimagesofsnowymountainsandnorthernlights.”
“I’mgladIcouldhelpinsomesmallway,”hesaid.
WithaflourishJonasreachedbehindthehottubandbroughtuptwofrostyglassesandabottleofgreen
glassfrostedinalayerofice.
“Areyougoingtotrytogetmedrunk”Isaid.
“Drunk?No.Alittlemerry.Maybe,”Jonassaidsmiling.
“I’mupforgettingmerry,”Isaidsmiling.
“ItisanIcelandictraditiontodrinksomebrennivinwhenoutinyourhotpot.Itbringsyouluck,”hesaid
fillingthetwoshotglassesandpassingonetome.
“Whatsbrennivin”Isaidmanglingthepronunciation.Ismelledtheclearliquorintheglassandcaughta
pungentscentofboozefollowedbyaslightspiciness.
“ItsIcelandicschnapps,andverygoodforyou.Thenamemeansblackdeath”hesaidclinkingourglasses
together.“Downinone,”hesaid.
I knocked back the shot and the icy liquid flowed down my throat. I got the faint taste of liquorice and
nothing else. Almost immediately I could feel the warmth of the booze spreading and making me feel
looserandmorerelaxed.IcoughedasIfelttheburnflowdownmythroatandspreaditstendrilsthrough
mybody.“Smooth,”Isaidcoughingagain.
JonaslaughedandIfeltmorewarmthspreadthroughme.Hislaughwasoneofinclusion,youfeltlikeyou
wereinonthejokeandithadnoedgeofcruelty.WhenCraighadlaugheditwasusuallyatyourexpense
andtomockyou.ScrewyouCraigIthoughtasIsunkintothewateruptomychin.
“SowhatbringsyoutoIceland”heasked.
I told him about my software project and my tale of woe of bad weather, missed flights and possible
missedbusinessopportunities.IcouldreallyfeelmyselftoloosenupasItalked.Imotionedforanother
drinkandwebothdownedtheicyconcoction.ThisisreallyfittingifthiswasthenationaldrinkIthought,
a mixture of fire and ice, just like all the glossy brochures for the country advertised endlessly over
picturesoferuptingvolcanoesandsnowcappedglaciers.Icouldfeelthefireinmybellynowanditwas
makingmerelax.
“You told me back in the airport that you used to live here. Why did you move from such a beautiful
place?”Iasked.InmymindIwasalreadyimagininghavingasmallhouselikeJonas’s,thatlookedout
intothefjordandacrosstheendlessnightsky.Itwasprobablythebrennivinbutleavingmylifebackin
America and moving to a beautiful fjord seemed like the best thing I could ever do. My mind filled up
with ideas of a simpler life away from the constant hustle of San Francisco. I knew I was doing what
every traveller since the beginning of time had dreamed about, the urge to give up your life and start
afreshinanewlocation.
“IthinkIneedanothershotbeforeItalkaboutanythingfrommypast”hesaid,lookingverysombre.We
downedourthirdblackdeathinthespaceof15minutesandIwasdefinitelyfeelingverybuzzed.Ibetter
holdoffonthemforanotherwhileorIwouldbethrowingmyselfatJonasIthought,myusualrationaland
restrainedpartofmekickingin.Anotherpartwasalsobattlingforattentionandthatwasthepartofme
screamingoutthataonenightstandwithahunkwoulddomegood.Iwasactuallydoingmybestatthe
moment from holding off and not just pouncing on him and wrapping my arms around his massive
shouldersandpressinghimtightagainstme.Therationalpartwasclearlylosing.
“Thisallhappenedovertenyearsago.BackthenIlivedinthetowncentre,afewhousesawayfromour
onlyschoolhouse.ItwasawarmautumndayandIwassittingoutmybackgardenenjoyingthelastbitof
warmthbeforethelongendlesswinternightscameanddarkenedthetown.ThefirstthingInoticedwas
the smell of something acrid in the breeze and then I could see the first billows of smoke across the
rooftops.Iimmediatelyrantowardswherethesmokewascomingfrom.Itwastheschoolhousethatwas
ablazeandallthekidsandtheteacherswerestandingoutsidelookingmiserable.Everyonehadgotout
okayorsowethoughtuntiloneofthekidsstartedtocryandbeganshoutingwhereisTomas.”
Jonas rubbed his hand down his face and continued. “I knew the teacher standing with the children, he
was an old warhorse whose family had lived in the fjord for many generations. “Are we missing
someone?” I asked feeling panic begin to rise. He quickly tried to count and check if everyone was
accountedfor.Inthosedaystherewasprobablynomorethenthirtystudentsintheschool.Ashetriedto
countthepanickedandfrightenedkidsincreasinglybegantoexclaim,whereisTomas.Theteacherseyes
went wide with fear as he realised Tomas was unaccounted for. “What class should he of been in?” I
shouted. The next few minutes were a blur, parts I have tried to forget and other parts I think my mind
doesnotwanttoreturnto.”
Jonaspausedagainbeforegoingon.“Myfollowingactionswerewithoutfearorthoughtsofheroism.I
justactedonpureinstinct.Iranintotheburningbuildingandimmediatelymylungswerefiledwithacrid
smoke.”Jonasstoppedwithahitchtohisbreathing.Heputupahandandwipedawayatear.“Sorry,I
cantgoon.ItmightbenearlytenyearsagobutIrarelyspeakaboutit.Wecantalkaboutitanothertime.”
IcouldseehowmuchitwastearinghimapartinsidesoIdidn'tpushhimtoopenup,notyetanywayI
thought. The alcohol inside me was making me feel relaxed and spontaneous and I did something I had
neverdonebefore,makethefirstmove.Islidoverinthehottubandputareassuringarmaroundhim.We
turned to face each other and I looked deep into his piercing blue eyes. “You are the most beautiful
womanIhaveeverseen”hesaid.
HeleanedintomeandIcouldfeelthehairsonmyheadtingleaswemovedclosertogethertokiss.His
lips brushed across mine tentatively at first and then we were both consumed by passion. He ran his
coarsehandsacrossthebackofmynecksendingripplesofpleasurethroughme.Ourlipspartedandour
tonguesbrushedtipsandthesensationmademehungryformore.IwantedtobeconsumedbythisViking
man,IwantedtofeelliketheebonygoddessIwas.IpicturedapaleVikingwarriorhandinhandwithhis
ebonyqueenstridingacrossthelandwithalleyesonthem.MybodytingledasIrealisedIwaslivingout
myultimatefantasy.ThewayJonashadlookedatmemademefeellikeabeautifulwomanandIcould
feelagrowingballofsweettensionatmycore.
Jonas’s large hands stroked and caressed my neck and then moved below the water and cupped my
breasts. My nipples were as hard as tempered steel and thrilled as his hands moved over them. I
swivelledaroundtofacehimandspreadmylegsandsatonhislap.
Icouldfeelhisthickcockrubbingagainstmeandmybodyhummedatthefeeling.Wewerelikeanimals
inheat,ruttingandhumpingagainsteachother.Myworldwasapinprickofpleasurecentredonhisthick
memberrubbingagainstmypussyandhishandsandlipsonmybody.
Jonas’smouthwasonmysensitiveneckbitingandnibblingatit,“Standup”Iwhisperedinhisear.Ifelt
like I was a different woman, and the man before me, the dazzling light show above me and the wide
expanseofthefjordallworkedtheirmagiconme.Hestoodupandgotoutofthewarmwaterandsteam
begantorisefromhisperfectVikingphysique,wispsofsteamcurlingoffhisbroadshoulders.Hisshorts
bulgedinthefrontandIknewthathisstiffcockwantedtobefree.Ikneltbeforehim,myVikingwarrior
toweringoverme.WithoneyankIpulledoffhisshortsandthenIwasfacedwiththisVikingsonetrue
weapon.
Hiscockwasinchesfrommyface.Thickandveineditvirtuallythrobbedformyattention.Istrokedmy
fingersalongthesoftsackandthengrippedthethickbaseofhismember.Ipuckeredmysensuouslipsand
rubbed the head of his cock over them. With one slick motion I licked from the base of his cock to the
glisteningheadwithmybroadflattongue.Hissaltymanlytasteandsmellwasmakingmypussypulsein
anticipationoffeelinghiminsideme.
I parted my lips and took his cock into me. Its length slid into the warm recess of my waiting mouth.
SlowlyImovedmyheadupanddownalternatingthepressureofmylipsontheshaftofhisamazingcock.
Iskilfullymovedmytonguesidetosidelikeasnakesensinghissurroundingsashiscockmovedbackand
forthinsidemywarmdepths.
WitheverydownwardsplungeofmyheadJonasletoutasatisfiedgrunt.Hewasstartingtospeedupand
buckhishipsforwardswitheveryoneofmydownwardmotions.Icouldfeelhiscockswellandtwitchin
mymouthandIknewhewasclosetotheedgealready.IfeltlikeawomanincontrolasIbroughthimto
thecuspofpleasure.
IpulledawayandJonasslidebackintothesteamywaterofthehottub.Hepulledmetowardshimandhis
handsandmouthworkedovermysuppleflesh.Heslippedahandbetweenmylegsandthefirstcontactas
his fingers moved across my pussy nearly made me explode straight away. I slipped out of my bikini
bottoms and moved to the other side of the hot tub and turned around and looked over my shoulders at
Jonas.Nowordsneededtopassbetweenus.Mybodyhummedwithanticipationasmymindreeledatthe
fact I was living out a long wished for fantasy. There was nothing I loved more then being taken from
behind and I loved when a man squeezed my sizeable and curvy ass, the fact that it was an Icelandic
vikingabouttodoittomemademytoescurl.
Jonasstoodbehindmeandbenttokissmyasscheeksstickingoutofthewater.“MyGodwomanyouhave
themostunbelievableassIhaveeverseen”hesaidsoundinglikehewasinpureaweatmycurves.Ashe
kissed my cheeks he slipped a hand between my legs, I bit into my arm as pleasure surged through my
body. He slipped two fingers inside me and his thumb moved in circles around my engorged clit and I
moaned in ecstasy. This Viking warrior was making me weak at the knees. I could barely stand as my
bodywasbombardedwiththesweetwavesofpleasure.
IwasbuckingmyhipshardagainsthishandandIcouldalreadyfeelmyselfclosetotheedge.“Fuckme
Viking”Isaidpantinghard.
Jonasrubbedthethickheadofhiscockovermypussyspreadingthelipswide.AsthetipslideinIclosed
myeyestightatthefireworksgoingoffinmyhead.Withafluidmotionheslidhiscockallthewayinto
me and my pussy and body sang out in exaltation at the feeling. I squeezed the walls of my pussy tight
againsthim,lockinghimintomesoIcouldfeeleverydeliciousstrokeintensely.
Jonas put his work hardened hands on my ass and began to fuck me in long rhythmic strokes of pure
unbridledpleasure.Wewherebothgruntinglikeanimalsasourindividualwantsandneedscombinedin
thismomentofuttercloseness.Ithrewmyheadbackandstaredupattheskyasapurplefringeoflight
dancedacrosstheblackexpanse.Iclencheddownonhimhardanditwasasifwitheachstrokeofhis
hips the colours in the sky faded and changed in rhythm. I closed my eyes as the colours from above
dancedlikeshadowsbehindmyeyelids,figmentsburntintomysensesasmyworldreduceddowntothe
sweetsensationofJonasbetweenmylegs.
InthepitofmystomachIcouldfeelthefieryfurnaceofasupernovaorgasmabouttoexplode.Inragged
breathsImoanedIthatIwasclosetopeaking.JonasspeeduphispowerfulthrustsandIcouldfeelhe
wasabouttocum.Inaraggedbreathhesaid,“Lookup.”
Ilookedupandaboveuswastheshimmeringcurtainofthemostbeautifuliridescentgreenstingedwitha
faintpurplehue.Theskywasawashwiththeotherworldlydisplayofthenorthernlightsasitstretched
acrossthewidthofthefjord,brushingagainstthemountainrangesoneachside.
MybrainbuzzedwiththestunningbeautyaboveandthenmyorgasmslammedintomeasIfeltJonasbuck
hardagainstmeasheshothishotloaddeepintomypussy.Mypussyflutteredtheexquisitedanceofan
intensealloverorgasmasthewavesofpleasureradiatedoutwards.Allthoughtsandfeelingfocusedon
theamazingsensationoftheVikingscockinsidemefillingmewithhisseed.
Mybreathcameoutinraggedburstsasmybodyfeltlikeitwasmadeofthefinestcrystalglassandthen
was filled with the warmest of honey. The waves of the orgasm washed over me and then slowly
subsided.ThroughoutthewholetimeasIwasblastedwithpleasuremyeyeshadneverleftthewondrous
displayaboveme.WhatIwasseeingaboveundulatingandshimmeringabovewaslikewhatIhadjust
feltmovingthroughmybody.ThelightdisplayabovewasbeautifultolookatandasIbreathlesslystared
up at it I knew it was something I wanted to experience again. The northern lights was the visual
manifestationoftheorgasmthathadrippledthroughmybody.
Maybeitwasthebrennivinortheamazingnorthernlightsaboveme,butIfeltanextremeconnectionto
thismanandthisland.WasittoofarfetchedtothinkIcouldbethispaleVikingsbeautifulebonygoddess?
IstaredupattheskybreathinghardasJonasgentlysqueezedthecurveofmyhips.Forthefirsttimeinas
longasIcouldrememberIfeltlikeawomanagain,abeautifulwomanwhohadthepowertoentrancea
man.AsthesheetsofcolourcascadedovereachotherIfeltthelastbitofhatetowardsCraigblinkout
likeadyingstar,hewasashallowandpettymanwithcrueltyinhisheartandhiswordsheldnomore
poweroverme.IthoughtofGunna'swordsfromearlier,“Fuckthepainaway,”shehadtoldmeandInow
knewthatitwasexactlywhatIneeded.IregrettedthemonthsIhadspentwiththeword“ugly”fillingmy
mindandstrippingmeofmyconfidence.HoweverytimeamanlookedatmeandsmiledIwouldthink
thathewasjudgingmeandsecretlyholdingbackhisdisgustatmyugliness.IhadletCraigandhiswords
holdsomuchpowerovermylifeandfortoolong.Thesnowstormandthedivertedflightnowlooked
likethebestthingthatcouldofhappenedtome.Removedfrommyoldlifeandinaplacewherenoone
knewmeIwasabletotaketheinitiativeandliveoutoneofmyoldestfantasies
NomorewouldCraigandhiscrueltyhaveaneffectonme.FromthisdayonIpromisedmyselfIwould
believeinmyselfandmaybejustmaybestarttoseethatIwasanattractivewomanwhodiddeservetobe
adoredandrespectedbymen.IknewthatthisencounterwouldbeonlyaonenightstandandinawayI
wishedIcouldtellJonaswhatwasgoingoninmymindandhowmuchthisnighthadmeanttomesofar.
JonaspulledawayfrommeandIfeltawarmthbetweenmylegs.Hepushedovertotheothersideofthe
hotpotandsubmergedhimselfuptohisshoulders.Helookedatmewithawarmsmileonhisface.“That
wasamazing,”hesaidashissmilebroadened,“youareamazing.”
I moved over beside him and put my head on his shoulders and I stared up at the sky as I became
entrancedbythewondrousflickeringinthenightsky.Thelightsundulatedandpulsedinwhatseemedlike
arandompattern,witheachpermutationmorebeautifulthenthelast.IcouldgetusedtothisIthought.Was
itreallysocrazyforablackwomantomovefromAmericaandtrytobuildanewlifeinthisbeautifuland
remote fjord in Iceland? I was not an impulsive person but already I was starting to imagine what life
would be like here. A life stripped of all the bullshit that had accumulated back home, reduced to its
simplest form and surrounded by what was important. I was already trying to figure out how to run my
businessfromhereandthought,sowhatifitsonlywishfulfilment.Isn’titgoodtodreambigItoldmyself
andIaddedhowbadcoulditbeifIalsohadmyVikingwarriorbymyside?IfI’mgoingtodreamImay
aswellhaveitall,thehouseinthefjordandthehandsomemantogowithit.
Thenoiseofclinkingglassesbroughtmeoutofmyreverie.Jonashelduptwofrostedshotglasses.We
downed another shot of the chilly Icelandic schnapps and its warmth quickly spread throughout my
system.Icouldsithereallnightlookingupatthestarswiththismanbesideme.“Whendoyouhaveto
returntotheStates?”askedJonas.
That was question for another time, right now I just wanted to enjoy the moment. I wrapped my arms
aroundthishunkofamanandbegantoslowlykisshim.Thefuturewouldhavetowait.Iwantedtofeel
himclosetomeagain,butinthebackofmymindIwasdreamingagain,addingdetailsandplansasthe
ideabegantotakerootinthefertilesoilofmymind.Couldthiscountryalreadyhavegottenaholdofmy
heartinafewshortdaysIwondered.Alightbreezeblewinfromtheseabringingthecrispscentofsalt
andifIlistenedcloselyIcouldhearthevoiceofthelandtellingmetotakeachanceandstartanewlife.
AsthevoicescryingoutforanewbeginningsrestedgentlyinmyearJonaspulledmeclosetohimandall
otherthoughtswereforgottenasourpassionsroseonceagain.
ChapterFour
My senses slowly began to awaken as the aroma of freshly brewed coffee began to drag me from my
sleep. I had been dreaming about a small wooden cabin nestled at the base of a mountain with a view
acrossapicturesquefjord.BeforethesmellofthecoffeehadawokenmeIhadbeenkneelinginagarden
plantingvegetables.ThedreamwasamillionmilesawayfrommylifeinSanFrancisco.Thatwasalife
packedwithlatenightcodingsessions,crushingdeadlinesandweekendsspentworkingandthencrashing
in front of the TV in an exhausted mess. I had been pushing the limits for a long time now as my team
readiedtheirneweductionsoftwareandthisunintendedstopinaremoteIcelandictownhadbeenmaking
metakealookatmylife.Itwasn'tonlythestunningscenerythatwasworkingitsmagiconme,itwasthe
manIspentmostoflastnightwith.
IhadspentanamazingnightwithJonasunderashimmeringdisplayofthenorthernlights.Wehadmade
crazypassionateloveinthehottub,andthenonthekitchentableandthenwehadfinallycollapsedinto
hisbedandenjoyedeachotheroncemorebeforeweslippedintosleep.Asthenighthadprogressedmore
shotsoftheicybrennivinhadbeendownedalongtheway.NowasIopenedmyeyesandtheroomtook
shapearoundmeinthegreylightIhadadullpaininthebackofmyheadandmymouthfeltdryanddusty.
MyfirstcogentthoughtwasthatIdidn’twantJonastoseemeinthisstatefirstthinginthemorning.My
second thought was that I couldn't wait to see his handsome chiseled viking visage again and my third
thoughtwas,whatifitwasonlyaonenightstandandhewantsmeoutofthehousestraightaway.Iknew
thatwastheprobableoutcome,soItriedmybestnottodwellonit.
Jonas tapped lightly on the door and entered. Any fears I had where washed away in an instant. He
beameddownatmeandsaid,“Goodmorningbeautiful”.IfeltanythingbutbeautifulatthemomentbutI
smiled at him and tried not to breath too much in his direction. I really didn't want my toxic hungover
breathscaringhimoff.
Heofferedmeasteamingcupofcoffeeandsaid“Thiswillcureanyofthebrennivinseffects.Strongdark
Icelandiccoffeeisjustwhatyouneed”.Heradiatedwarmthandhappinessanditwasinfectious.“I’lllet
yougetreadywhileIpreparebreakfast,”hesaid.
I took a sip of the coffee and my stomach growled as I swallowed. “I’m going to go in and check on
Gunna,”IsaidandIcouldfeelmyselfmatchinghissmile.
“Ok.I’llcallyouwhenbreakfastisready,”hesaidgettingupandwalkingtowardsthedoor.Hepaused
withhishandonthedoorhandleandturnedbacktome.“Aboutlastnight.Iwantyoutoknowthatsnota
usualoccurrenceforme.I’mnotsomekindofromeo.WeIcelandicmencanbeabitbluntattimes,soI
willjustcomeoutandsayit.Ireallylikeyouandifyoudidn'thavetogoIwouldwanttospendtimewith
youagain.”
I raised the mug up and took another sip, more to hide my widening smile. In my small amount of
experienceswithonenightstandstheguywasusuallylookingtogetawayfrommeasquickaspossible,
soJonascomingstraightoutwithnogameswasrefreshingandmademyheartspeedupinmychest.“I
hadfuntoo.”Hegavemeonelastdashingsmileandthenleftmeintheroom.
Isatontheedgeofbedsippingthesteamingbrew.AspromisedthecoffeeworkeditsmagicandIslowly
started to feel like a normal person again. What I wanted for the day ahead was to spend some time in
Jonas’sarmsagainbutwhatrealitydictatedtomewasthatIneededtomakemywaynorthforthemeeting
withthedeanoftheuniversity.
IcrossedthehalltoGunna'sroomandtappedonthedoorbeforeentering.ShegrinnedatmewhenIsat
downonthebedacrossfromher.“Lookslikesomeonetookmyadvise.Didyouhaveagoodnight?”she
askedinawhisper.
Ifloppedbackontothebedandstaredupattheceiling.“ItwasbeyondanythingIimagined.Thenorthern
lightsputonashowthatwentonforhours.Wehadsomedrinksandhungoutinthehotpot.”
“Icanseebyyoursmileexactlywhatyoutwokidsgotupto.I’mhappyforyou.Didthemedicinework
foryou?”Gunnaasked.
“ForthefirsttimeinalongtimeIfeltlikeawholewomanagain.Forsuchalongtimeitfeltlikeapartof
mewasmissing.Lastnightjustfelt…magical.AmImakingsense?”
Gunnasatupinherbedandpulledherthickduvetaroundher.“Youaremakingperfectsense.Icoulddo
withsomemagicinmylife.Thingscangetveryboringinmyhometown.I’mhappyforyou.
IrolledoverontomysideandlookedoveratGunnaandIcouldseewhatshesaidwasgenuine.Maybe
theIcelandicwomenwerejustasmuchstraightshootersasthemenIthought.“Jonasismakingbreakfast
areyougoingtojoinus?”
Gunnashruggedoffherthickduvetandstoodupbesidethebed.Sheshiveredwhenherbarefeettouched
the cold wooden floorboards. She was wearing matching black bra and panties and her skin was the
palestI’deverseen.Imustofbeenstaringasshesaid,“Youprobablyhaven'tseensomeonesowhite?
Notalotofsunthisclosetothearctic.Iknowsomewomenwhousethesunbedsanditjustlooksplain
weirdonanIcelandicperson.Wearemeanttobemilkywhite.”
“IseealotofpermatansinSanFrancisco,luckilyIdon'thavethatproblem.”
Gunnastretchedandgrabbedaballeduptshirtfromontopofheropenluggage.Sheslippeditoverher
headandthenstartedtorummagethroughherbag.“Icantjoinyouforbreakfast.Ineedtogetoutintothe
freshairbeforeIeat.Idoiteverydaywithoutfail.Thirtyminutesinonedirectionandthenturnaround
andcomehome.”
“Eveninthisweather?Therewasloadsofsnowlastnight,”Ireplied.
“Doesn't matter. I do it no matter what the weather is. It starts my day off proper and gives me time to
think.”Shefoundapairoffleecelinedtrousersandslippedthemon.“YouenjoyyourbreakfastandI’ll
seeyouinanhour.”Onceshewasdressed,includingabrightreflectiveharnesssheworeoverherjacket,
Gunnagavemeasmileandleft.SheshoutedacoupleofwordstoJonasinherliltingIcelandicandthen
shewasgonetobravethefreezingweather.
IgrabbedthesetoffreshtowelsJonashadleftmeontheendofthebedIneverusedandheadedtothe
small bathroom at the end of the hall. I washed and cleaned up all the while dreaming that I would
overturnmylifeandgetwhatmyheartdesired,buttherationalpartofmeknewIshouldbesensibleand
start to make plans to head north as soon as possible. No matter how my morning would go I knew I
would have to leave Isafjordur and Jonas the first chance I got. I slipped into my fluffy robe as some
wickedthoughtsspunthroughmymind.
Cleanandstartingtofeelclosertoafunctioninghumanallthankstothehealthydoseofcaffeineperking
me up I go out to the kitchen to greet Jonas. It can usually be so embarrassing the first morning after
sleepingwithaman,thatinitialdiscomfortcanfadeawayifnogamesarebeingplayedbetweenyou.The
lastfewmenIhadseenbeforeCraighadprettymuchmadeitclearthatitwasonlyaonenightstandthey
wereafter.OnthoseoccasionsIwasluckyifIevengotofferedacupofcoffeeasthemendroppedas
many hints as possible that they wanted me out of their place pronto. I would always play it off that I
wantedthesamebutwhenIwashonestwithmyselfIknewithurt,eventhoughwehadbothgottenwhat
wewantedandnowtheywantedmegonefromtheirsight.
IwouldknowprettyquicklywhatthesituationwouldbewithJonasandItriedtobuckmyselfupandnot
thinknegativelytoosoon,afterallwedidhaveanamazingnightandifthatwasallitwasgoingtobeI
coulddealwiththat,Iliedtomyself.
IwentintothekitchenandJonaswasnowheretobeseen.Iheardhisdeepgravellyvoicefromtheother
side of the room “Down here” he said. Hidden from my view by the sturdy oak table I could now see
Jonaswaslyingonthefloorunderthesinkworkingonitwithsometools.Hewasstrippedtothewaist
andhismuscledtorsoglistenedwithasheenofsweatasheworked.Icouldfeelaflashofheatacrossmy
cheeks.Istoodandwatchedhim,mesmerisedbyhistaughtbodyashecontinuedtoworkandstrainashe
triedtoloosenaboltunderthesink.AlreadydirtythoughtswerefloodingmymindandIhadn'tevenhad
breakfastyet.
“Theoutflowvalveisbusted”Jonassaid,hisvoiceamplifiedfrombeneaththesink.“I’llonlybeafew
minutes”hesaidreachinginbehindapipe.
Istoodoverhimlookingdownathisbodyashismusclescontractedintotightbandsofsteelashetwisted
partoftheplumbingoff.Jonasglancedupatmeandsaid,“You’relookingfreshfaced”.
I could feel it in my core, I wanted Jonas and I wanted him now. I had never felt this close and this
comfortablearoundamansoquickly,ifIwasn'tcarefulIwouldfallhardforthisdashingviking.Back
home I could be afraid to take the initiative, right here standing above Jonas I felt empowered and in
control.Itwasaclichethatpeopletriedtoreinventthemselveswheninadifferentcountry,ifthatwasso
Ididn'tcareasIwatchedhismuscleswork.
WithaclankandathunkJonasreplacedthepartandsaid,“Alldone”.
AsheslidoutfromunderthesinkIlookeddownathimandsaid,“Staywhereyouare”.
Heraisedhishandsupandwavedthematme.“Letmecleanupfirst”hesaid.
“You wont need your hands right now,” I said and this sent a thrilling wave up my spine. I wasn't sure
wherethiswascomingfrom,Iwasrunningonpureinstinctandlust.Helookedupatmewithaglintinhis
eyes and smiled broadly. Our eyes locked on to each other and I could almost see the crackle of
electricity spark between us. He looked at me with eyes wide and full of expectation. I was the one in
controlanditturnedmeon.
With a graceful movement I knelt and sat on his strong chest and shrugged off my robe. I was naked
underneathandatthesightofmydarkskinJonasletoutanappreciativesigh.Icouldfeelhisheartbeating
againstmythigh,eachbeatofhisheartentwinedtotherhythmofmine.TimeslowedtoacrawlasIstared
intohiscrystalcleareyes,ourgazeslockedforallofeternity.
Without breaking our gaze I slide forward on his torso the friction of his smooth white skin against my
innerfoldssendingsparksshootingoffmybody.Hisfacewasnowinchesawayfrommysilkeninsides
andbothourbreathsroseandfeelinjaggedrasps.Icouldalreadyfeelanorgasmrisinginmybodyand
hehadn'teventouchedmeyet.
Iranmyhandsdownmybodybrushingpastmyerectnipplesandthenhookedmyfingersunderhishead.I
pulledhimcloseandthenthevikinghadhiswaywithme.
His broad tongue slipped between my pussy lips and I threw my head back and closed my eyes as
flickeringlightsdancedbehindmyeyelids.Pinwheelsoflightspunandexplodedinmyheadaseachof
hislicksflickedandteasedmyclit.Iwasalreadylosingmygripandtheexpresstrainofanorgasmwas
barrelingtowardsme.Isqueezedmylegstightagainsthisheadhopingtoelongatethissweetpleasurefor
anothersecondmore.
The burly viking between my legs had other plans for me and he was going to make me cum hard. His
broad tongue slipped inside me and my body light up as if illuminated by a thousand suns. My orgasm
crashed into me and I bucked and moaned loudly with each skilful lick from Jonas and his pulsating
tongue.AsmyorgasmobliteratedmysensesacrystalclearimageofJonasandIsomeyearsfromnow,
armsaroundeachotherandsmilingfilledmymindlikeaneonsign.
Slowlytheroomcamebackintofocusandmybreathingslowedasthebeautifulmomentended.Igotoff
Jonasandlaydownonthecoldfloorbesidehim.Myskinprickledatthecoolsensationagainstmyskin.I
laymyheadonhischestlisteningtohisheartbeatslowasIwasfilledwithasenseofcontentment.This
feltright.Ihadneverfeltthiswaysofastandsointenselybeforeinmylife.Wedidnotneedtospeakand
wejustlaythereenjoyingthecloseness.EvenasIlaymyheadonhischestthehorribledistantvoiceof
doubtsoundedinthedepthsofmymind,thisisnothingmorethanaholidayflingthevoicetoldmeandI
triedmybesttoignoreit.
AsoundfromanalienplanetintrudedasadigitalbeepfilledmyearsandIrealisedIhadstartedtodoze
offonthecoldfloorinthewarmembraceofJonas’smassivearms.Jonasstirredandgotupandanswered
hisphonewhileIslippedmyrobebackon.
Hisconversationonlylastedafewminutesandhewassmilingwhenitended.“ThatwasmyfriendRafn.
Goodnewsabouttheplane,itisgoingtoleaveinthenexthour.ImgoingtomeetRafnonthewayashe
mighthavesomeworkforme.HowlongwillGunnabegonefor?”
“Anhour,”IsaidasrealityintrudedontheperfectworldIhadstartedtoconstructinmymind.
Hecheckedthetimeonhisphoneandsaid,“Ok,wehaveenoughtime.”
IrealisedinourpassionatefrenzythatIhadneveraskedJonaswhathedoesforalivingsoIbroachedit
withhim.
“I’m a life long fisherman. My father and my grandfather and going back many more generations of
Danielssons,weallworkedonthesea.Lifeontheseaisinmyblood.”
I’dguessedright,hisroughandcoursehandswherefromalifetimeofhardworkatsea.Myskinprickled
atthethoughtofhishandsonmeagain,rubbingacrossmysuppleskin.“Ibettergetready,”Isaidgetting
upandheadingtothebedroom.Itriedmybesttohidethedisappointmentinmyvoice.Onemoredaywith
Jonaswasnotgoingtohappen.
Thenexttenminuteswerespentinawhirlwindofstuffingcrumpledclothesinbags,dressingandmaking
myselflookasgoodaspossibleintherushtobeready.Gunnacamebackandjoinedmeinthefrenzyto
packourstuff.“Youdon'tlooktoohappy,”shesaidasshesqueezedherbagshutandyankedthezipper
closed.
“Thisisallendingsoquickly.Iknowitsonlybeenadaybutthisfjordandamazingsceneryhasreallygot
itshooksintomyheart.YoumightthinkI'mbeingstupidbutallIhavebeendoingisdaydreamingabout
quittingmyjobandstartinganewlifeinaplacelikethis.”
“Iceland has that kind of power over people and I’d guess its not only the landscape that has your
imaginationtwirling,”shereplied.
“Isitthatobvious?”IsaidasIfinallygotmyluggageshut.
Gunna winked at me and said, “Theres no reason you cant come back after you finish your business
meetings?Myadvicewouldbethatsometimesyouneedtotakeriskswithyourlife.Youwouldn'tbethe
firstforeignertofeelIceland'smagic.IknowafewAmericansinmytownwhocamehereonaweekend
stopoverandonthosetwoshortdaysdecidedtheywantedtolivehere.Followyourheart.”
“IfIneverseeyouagainaftertodayIwanttotellyouthatitwasapleasuremeetingyouandspending
timewithyou,”Isaid.
Gunnapattedherluggagewhenshegotthezipclosedandthensatonthebedfacingme.“Ihaveafeeling
thiswontbethelasttimethatIseeyou.”
BeforeIgotachancetoanswerandthemomentIwasdreading,thetaxiarrivedandhonkedhishornfrom
outside.
ChapterFive
We bustled out of the house and Jonas helped us with our bags in to the back of the car. A wind was
startingtocomeinofftheseaanddriftsofsnowblewacrosstheroad.Jonasgotinthefrontseatofthe
car and Gunna jumped in the back. I stood and looked across the fjord at the distant snow capped
mountainsandthegreywavescrashingonthefarawayshore.Ibreathedinthecrispcleanairandtriedto
absorb and remember every detail around me. A trunk of driftwood sat by the side of the road and a
gnarledbranchstuckupintheairlikeawavinghand.Thewoodwaspolishedandsmoothfromthesea
and the wind. I looked back at the house and noticed details I had missed on arrival last night. Hearts
were carved into the wood at intervals around the house and the front door had a heart with a flock of
ravens flying behind it carved into it by what must of been a master artisan. The wind picked up and
whistledasitcamedownfromthemountains.EachandeverydetailItriedtorememberasIturnedaway
andgotintothewaitingcab.
OnceinthetaxiIsatlookingoutthewindowasthecarwounditswaybackintothefjordandtowards
town. Everything was moving so fast and I was afraid to ask Jonas the questions battling in my mind.
Whatnext,wasthebigoneandIfeltevenfoolishthinkingtheremightbeanext.Mybraintoldmethis
wasitbutmyhearttoldmethiswasonlythebeginningofanewchapterinmylife.
I didn't want this to be nothing more then a quickie one night stand but it seemed so ridiculous to think
aboutitasanythingmore.IneededtoridmymindofallmyfancifulideasofstartinganewlifeinIceland,
and dreaming of my pale skinned viking pressed against my dark skin as we embraced in some small
woodencabindeepinafjord.IliketothinkIamusuallyapracticalandgroundedpersonwhonormally
keeps flights of fancy to to a minimum. Thinking about being held in Jonas’s arms was not helping me
forgetaboutsomeflimsyandimprobabledream.
I stared out the window as the road turned into town and we drove along a narrow street with brightly
colouredhousesofcorrugatedmetaloneitherside.Jonastappedmeonthearmanditpulledmeoutofmy
daydream. “I need to stop here and talk to Rafn and then I’ll drop you both at the airport” he said. We
pulledupoutsideaquaintlookingcoffeeshopthatwasbrightlylitinside.Itlookedliketheperfectplace
to get out of the strong blowing wind. What does he mean leave me at the airport? For a second I had
thoughtwewouldbeleavingtogetherandIwouldatleasthavethetimeontheflightbacktoReykjavikto
spendtimewithhim,butnowIrealisedthathadbeennothingmorethenwishfulthinking.
Jonasgotoutofthecabandcrossedtheroad.Thedrivertookouthisphoneandstartedtoplayagameon
it. I felt nothing but surprise when I could feel tears welling up, this wasn't like me at all I thought. I
quicklywipedthemawayandpulledmyselftogether.Gunnahadnoticedmytears.“Areyouok?”andshe
putherhandonmyshoulder.
“It’sallhappeningsofast.Idon'tknow,maybeI’mtiredfromalltheflying,”Ilied.Iwasfeelingfoolish
atmyoutburst.
“If you need a friend while you are here you can call me,” Gunna said and took a small leather bound
notebookfromherbag.Shejotteddownhernumberandsaid,“Youcallmeifyougetupnorthandwecan
hangoutsomemore.”Iwasgladforherkindwords.
IfocusedonJonasandwatchedhimthroughthewindowinthecoffeeshop.Hewentoverandtappeda
large man on the shoulder who had his back to Jonas. The man stood up and turned around and looked
veryannoyed.Itlookedlikeangrywordspassedbetweenthemandthenallofasuddentheywerehugging
andpattingeachotherontheback.
This man that Jonas was hugging was huge. He was broader and stood taller then Jonas, he had short
tousledjetblackhairandahandsomesquarejawedprofile.Hehadthefaceofamalemodelandthebody
of someone who did something very physical. I couldn't wait to tell the girls back home about the men
here,theycertainlydidn'tmakemenlikethisinSanFrancisco.Thesewhererealmenwhotookcharge,
workedhardandhadthecallusestoshowforit.
“Will you be heading straight up North when we get back to Reykjavik?” I asked Gunna turning away
from the window. Looking at Jonas was making my heart ache. I knew it wasn't something as grand as
love,itwasthefeelingofclosingadoorbeforeitevenhadachancetoopen.Leavingnowfeltlikethe
endofanewpathbeforeIhadevenstartedtowalkdownit.
“Irangafriendearlier.Ihavealiftorganisedwhenweland.ItsafishermanthatIworkwith,anoldguy
and a total sweetheart. He was in Reykjavik to see his grandkids. Its a ten hour drive but he is good
company.”
Therewasataponmywindowandthenafaceduckeddownandpeeredinatmewithabeamingsmile.It
was the man who Jonas had been hugging. His smile was dazzling and for a second he looked like a
hungrywolfandIwashisprey.Ifeltatwingeofnervesinmystomachunderthismansgaze.Ifeltwoozy
andsluggishallofasudden,Icouldfeelagiggleabouttoburstforth.HereIamagrownwomanaboutto
giggleunderthisamazinglyhandsomemansgaze.Gunnamadeawhistleofappreciation.
“Ibettergetoutandsayhello,”Isaidandtookadeepbreathandgotoutofthecar.
A voice like two slabs of granite grinding against each other came forth from this mountain of a man
standing before me. “Hi I’m Rafn and I’m like a brother to Jonas. Its great to meet you.” Usually first
introductionslikethisaremeetwithapolitehandshake.Theserulesdidn'tapplytoRafn.Hewrappedhis
armsaroundmeinahugebearhugandgavemeasqueeze.
For a split second while I was in his embrace, feeling his taught biceps pressing into me a thought
bubbled up from the depths, this is the man for me. I immediately pushed it away and was a little
disgustedwithmyself.Ifeltgreedyandselfish.IhadanamazingtimewithJonasandhereIwasswooning
likeaschoolgirlwhenthenextphysicallyimpressiveIcelandicvikingshowsmeanyattention.
Thegreedysidecouldn'tbefullysubmerged.BeforeIpushedthatpartofmeintotherecessofmymind,
shegotoffonemorelittlesalvo.Youcanhaveboth.Ifeltthrilledandashamedatthesametime.
Rafnreleasedmefromhismonsterstrongembrace.“YoureallyareasbeautifulasJonastoldme”hesaid
withawildtwinkleinhiseyesandaroguishgrin.JonasmockpunchedRafninthearmandtheysaida
fewwordstoeachotherinIcelandic.Ilovedhearingthelanguage,thewaytheyrolledtheletterRwas
musictomyears.
“Thankyou,”Isaidandtriednottogetlostinhispiercingeyes.
Jonas said “This is my very forward friend Rafn. We go back many years”. He looked at Rafn when
sayingthisandRafnreturnedhislookwithastoicnod.Jonaswenton“Thereisahugeshoalofherring
thathasmovedintooneofthenextfjordsoverfromthisone.Theherringswiminheretotrytoavoidthe
coolingseas.Rafnheadsoutnowinanhourwithhiscrewtofishthem.Iamgoingtotakehimuponthe
offertohelp”.
The darkest thoughts flooded my senses for the briefest of seconds and for one tiny moment I nearly
blurtedout“Pleasedon'tgo,cometoSanFranciscowithme.”Ididn't,IknewI’dcomeacrossascrazy.
JonascheckedhiswatchandIknewitwastimetogetgoingtotheairport.WesaidourgoodbyestoRafn,
not before he gave me one more massive bear hug. As we separated he said, “I’ll be seeing you again
SashaLeeofSanFrancisco”.Itfeltlikehespokethetruth.
We got to the small airport with only minutes to spare. The check in area was packed with yesterdays
passengersfrommyflight.MostofthemwerenotlookingtoohappyabouttheovernightstayinIsafjordur.
Icheckedmybagsinlikearobot,automaticallygoingthroughthemotions.Ididn'ttalktoGunnaaswe
queuedandIcouldn’tbeartolookoveratJonassittingonthebenchesandlookingoutattheplanebeing
prepped.Ididn'twantthemomenttocomewhenwewouldsaygoodbye.NothingIcoulddowouldslow
itdownandthenasifinaflashwewereatthedreadedmoment.GunnaandIwerestandingatthedoor
readytoboardtheplane.Shesaidhergoodbyestohimandthensaidtome.”Seeyouontheplane.”She
turnedandboarded.IthoughtIcouldhandlesayinggoodbyebutawellspringofemotionrippedthrough
mythinveneer.
“WillIeverseeyouagain”Isaidfeelingthetearsstarttowellup.
“Yesyouwill,Iamcertainofit,”hesaid.“Iwilldoanythingtoseeyouagain”hesaidandpulledme
closetohimembracingmetightly.Ibreathedindeeply,hisscentfillingmynostrilsandasridiculousasit
seemedsmellinghisdeepmanlymuskcalmedmeslightly.
Frominsidehisjackethetookoutabusinesscardandhandedittome.Thatgestureandquirkstruckme
asodd,afishermanhavinghisownbusinesscard.MaybeIwaswrongandallfishermencarriedcards,
JonaswasthefirstoneI’deverspoketo
IclutchedthecardandwekissedforwhatIhopedwasn'tthelasttime.Wekissedslowanddeep,allthe
hustle and bustle of the airport fading away as my world focused on this man. Tearfully we parted and
thenourtimewasup,Ihadtoboardtheplane.ThelastthingIsaidtohimwas“Jonas,”myvoicebeganto
quiverandIturnedandwalkedtowardstheplanenotdaringtolookbackandknowingitcouldsendme
offtheedgeandIwouldbeasobbingmess.
ChapterSix
Theplanewasbuffetedbystrongwindsasittookoffandafewpeoplegaspedastheplanewaspushed
sideways as it navigated out of the fjord. I didn't react. I sat in my chair with my head in my hands
sobbing. Gunna held my hand and said nothing. I no longer felt foolish for having such strong emotions
overaonenightstand,itwasrealandithurt.
Afterafewminutestheplanewasabovethecloudsandtheworstoftheturbulencewasover.Slowlymy
sobbingsubsidedandIunclenchedmyhandthathadbeencrushingGunna’s.Mynailshadbeenpainfully
diggingintoherpalmsthiswholetime.ShejustgavemeasmileandIknewshehadfeltthispainbefore.
In my other hand Jonas’s card was balled up. I smoothed it out and read the front. It was a simply
designedcardwithnodistractingflourishes.Ithadalltheusualdetailsandbelowhisemailaddresswas
asmalllogoofaboatwithalargebroodingvikingstandingonthedeck.ThevikinglookedlikeJonasand
itbroughtasmiletomyface.
When we landed in the single runway airport on the edge of Reykjavik city it was time for another
goodbye. We stood outside the terminal building as a strong wind whipped across us and pelted our
cheekswithshardsofhail.“IfyouneedafriendinIceland,callme,”Gunnasaidgivingmeatighthug.
For the second time in the space of a few hours I was close to tears. Toughen up I tried to tell myself,
peoplecomeandgoinyourlifeallthetimebackhome.Ididn'tknowwhyeverythingwaseffectingmeso
deeply,Icouldn'tunderstandwhatwasgoingonwithme.
WehuggedforafewmoresecondsandwhenweseparatedIsaid,“Itwasgreatmeetingyou.”Andwith
that she turned and crossed the carpark to a red pickup truck parked on the corner. A men with a grey
beard was behind the wheel and he waved as Gunna approached. They drove off as the painful hail
increasedinintensity.IstrolledtotherowofcabsparkedoutsideandIfeltheavyandtiredasIwalked.
The next two days went by in a whirl of activity and gave me little to no time to wallow in any sad
feelings. I flew north and meet with the dean of the university and he was highly impressed with the
software my team had designed. He signed the contract there and then and gave me contact details for
deans of the two main universities in Reykjavik. He was so impressed with both the product and my
knowledge of it that he promised to put a good word in with the other deans on my behalf. After our
meetingIhadtoheadstraightfortheairportandreturntoReykjavik.Inevergottoseethesmallnorthern
city and I felt a pang as the plane banked over the harbour and I wondered if Gunna was down below
workingaway.
AsIrackedupsuccessfulmeetingsinReykjavikandrelayedittometeambackhometheymadeplansfor
apartywhenIreturnedhome.Theuniversitieswouldbeourfirstpayingcustomersandpossiblythestart
ofawholelotmoreopportunities.TherewasnotimeforcelebrationinIcelandasthedelayinIsafjordur
hadmessedupmyschedule.IfIwantedtobebackinSanFranciscointimefortheholidaysIhadtoleave
now.
AllthisrushingandthevariousbusinessmeetingsIhadbeentohadkeptmymindoffJonasasmuchas
possible.MyheartachedwheneverIthoughtofhim.Ifeltfoolishforfeelingthiswaysoquickly,butI
kepttellingmyselfthatitalsolookedlikehefeltthesameway.
Icouldn'tbeartoringhimbeforeIleftIceland.Icouldn'tgothroughallthetearsagain,thatIknewwould
come as soon as I heard his voice. I would wait until I got back home before I contacted him again.
MaybewhenIgotbackhomeitwouldputthewholetripinperspectiveandIwouldrealisethatJonas
wasnothingmorethanonegreatnight.ThestressesandthesetbacksofthetripcouldbethereasonwhyI
wassoemotionalItriedtotellmyselfandonlyhalfbelievedit.
After two days of high pressure and rushing I felt exhausted and when I got to Keflevik airport for my
flighthomeallIwantedtodowasslumpinaseatandsleep.IfoundacornerwithamutedTVmounted
highonthewallandIslumpedintoachair.IhadhourstokillbeforecheckinandIwantedtoswitchmy
brain off and not think about the rollercoaster of the last few days. People bustled by pulling wheeled
luggageandtheclickclickofthewheelsbegantosoothmeandprettysoonIstartedtodriftofftosleep.
ImagesofJonascoalescedinmysleepingmind.Jonaswasstandingoutsideaburningschoolbuilding.I
was standing behind him and he turned and looked at me and then smiled. He then ran into the burning
building.Iwasrootedtothespotandcouldn'tmove.Itriedtoscreamandonlymuffledmewlingscame
out.Theflamesonthebuildingroseandtimeseemedtoelongate.HewasintheretoolongandIcould
feeladarkveilofimpendingdoominsinuateitsperniciousenergyintoeverycellofmybeing.
Theschoolhouseflaredinflamesofbrightorangeandsearingredandthenthewholebuildingcollapsed.
IcouldseesomeonemovingwithintherubbleandthistimeImanagedtoscream.
Iwokewithajoltandlookedaroundconfusedforasecond,unsureofwhereIwas.Acoldsweatran
downmyback.AnolderIcelandicwomansittingnearmereachedoverandputahandonmyshoulder
andaskedmeinbrokenenglishifIwasok.
Iheldherhandandthankedherandreassuredheritwasonlyaterriblenightmare.Fromthecornerofmy
eyesomethingontheTVcaughtmyattention.Itwasanewsprogramandareporterbundledupinwinter
gear was talking to the camera. I recognised where he was standing as one of the streets in Isafjordur
whereIhadbeendaysbefore.Ifeltabandoftensiontightenaroundmychest.
ItfeltlikeabucketoficewasthrownovermybackandIjustknewsomethingwaswrong.Thereporter
continuedtotalkastheheavysnowfellaroundhim.Thereportendedwithsomestockfootageofthetown
beingbatteredbyastormandfishermenonadocktakingequipmentoffaboat.
IcouldfeelmypanicbegintoriseandIfeltittomycorethatsomethingwaswrongasifmynightmare
hadsprungforthtocausehavocintherealworld.Ifranticallyturnedtothewomanandaskedherwhatthe
report was about. Her english was not very good and she motioned to me that she would go get her
husbandtohelp.
Shewasgonelessthenaminutebutitstretchedouttoinfinityformyjanglednerves.Thewomanbrought
backagreyhairedmanwearingatraditionalIcelandicsweater.“WhatcanIhelpyouwith”hesaidinhis
beautifulliltingaccent.Itoldhimaboutthenewsstoryandhenoddedandlistened.
Hehadcaughtthestoryearlierandasherelayedittome,myheartsunkandthenshatteredintoamillion
pieces. “The news was about a ship lost at sea yesterday. It went fishing for a shoal of herring and it
hasn't been heard from since. The weather is too bad to send the rescue helicopter out. The boat had a
crewoftenonitandallanybodycandoiswaituntilthestormends.Weareallprayingforthefishermen”
hesaid.
Ifellbackinthechairasmybodywasshakenbysobs.IknewwitheveryfibreofmybodythatJonaswas
onthatboat.WhileIstartedtocrythewomanconsoledme.
“Areyouallrightmydear?”theoldmansaidwithaconcernedlookonhisface.
I pulled my phone out and said, “I need to call my friend.” The elderly couple sat across from me as I
dialledmyphonewithshakinghands.
“IsthatyouSasha?”Gunnasaidwhenshepickedup.
“Yes,”Isaidtryingtoholdbackthetears.
“Yousawthenewsthen,”shesaidinaflattone.“Idon'tknowhowtosaythistoyouSasha,”shesaidand
paused,“Jonaswasonthatboat.Heandallhiscrewaremissingatsea.”
Thenewshitmelikeakicktothechest.MyhandsshookasIheldmyphoneup.
“IhavetogobacktoIsafjordur,Ihavetogoback”Isobbed.
ChapterSeven
Two people made a huge impact on me when I was a young girl. One stayed with me up until I was a
teenagerandtheotherleftmewhenIwaseightyearsold.AsIgetolderIhavestartedtoreflectonthe
impacttheybothmadeonme.ThefirstpersontochangemewasmyuncleTyronorbigTtohisfriends.
Mymemoriesofhimspoolbacktosomeofmyearliestrecollections.Hewasaforceinmylifeforas
longasIcouldrememberandthenjustlikethathewasgone.Hewasmymothersbrotherandwhenthe
carplantheworkedinshutdownhefoundithardtofindanewjobandhadtomoveinwithmyfamily.If
therewasanykindoffrictionwithmymotherandfatherandtheirnewlodgeritneverfiltereddownto
me.AllIrememberisthisbeingagoldenhuedperiodofmylife.Tyronhadworkedwithhishandsallhis
life,allmenialjobsfrommoppingfloorstoflippingburgers.Thepositioninthecarplantwashislongest
continuousperiodofemploymentandupuntiltheclosureitwasalifechangingjob.
The amazing thing about Tyron and I only realised this when I was older, was even though his life had
takenadownturnandhewassleepingonafoldoutbedinhissistersbasementheneverletitgettohimor
actedharddoneby.Hisbeamingpositivitywhenfacedwithhislotworkeditswayintomypersonality
andhadalonglastingeffect.
HavingTyronlivinginmyhousewaslikethewildestadventureformyyoungself.Iwouldspendwinter
eveningsdowninhisroomwhilemymotherprepareddinnerupstairsandTyronneverseemedtotireor
becomeannoyedofmyendlessquestions.ItwasthissecondtraitofhisthatmouldedmeintowhoIam
today.Tyronreadandhereadconstantlyandatanincredibleclip.Healwayshadapaperbacksticking
outofthebackpocketofhistrousersandIusedtolovewatchinghimworkinginthegardenduringthe
summerwithmyfather.Thetwomenwouldworksidebyside,cuttingthegrassandtrimmingbackthe
eversprawlingbushes.Whenitcameforabreakfromthelabourmyfatherwouldtakehistobaccotinout
ofhispocketandlightupasmoke.WhatalwaysstayedwithmewasTyronandhisbreaktimeactivity.
He’dleanagainstthecornerofourhouseinanicepatchofshadeandtakehisrolledupbookoutofhis
backpocketandstartreading.Everytimehestoppedworkinghewouldbereading,waitingforabushe
wouldbereading,atthedinnertable,afterthenews,sometimesevenashewalkeddownthesidewalkif
thebookwasparticularlygood.
He didn't discriminate on his reading material. I say him reading everything from the classics, science
books,memoirsandyellowedgedpulpcrimefiction.Hemademultipletripstoourlocallibraryevery
week.Hespentanysparemoneyhehadonbooksandanytimehesawbooksforsaleatgaragesalesor
marketshewouldbuyarmfuls.WhenIwasdowninhisroomleafingthroughthebooksinstacksbyhis
beds I would ask him endless questions and to my young mind he was a genius. If he didn't know the
answer I could be sure that when he came back from a trip to the library he would of researched it. I
loved my father but I think I loved my uncle even more in a full on childish intensity. His thirst for
informationandknowledgespoketomycoreandIwouldfindmyselfimmersingmyselfinreadingtoan
extreme. He would often tell me that he left school when he was twelve and that you should never let
anyonethinkyouarealesserpersonifyoudon'thaveapieceofpaperfromacollege.“Thesearetheonly
pieces of paper that are important,” he would say holding up a copy of great expectations and twelve
yearsaslave.“Thisisallyouneedtobetteryourselfanddon'tletanyoneelsetellyouotherwise.”He
wouldslidehislibrarycardacrosstomeandsay,“Onceyouhaveoneofthese,thereisnostoppingyou.”
I’dholdupthebluerectangleofstiffcardandrunmyfingersalongtheedgeasifIwasholdingalofta
holyrelicoranitemfromanarchaeologicaldig.
ThetimespentinmyunclesmakeshiftroomwhilehesatonhisfavouritestiffbackedchairreadingandI
sat on a squishy bean bag in the corner across from him, this was one of my most cherished memories
whenIgotolder.ItwasamemorythatcausedmenothingbutheartbreakandconfusionwhenIwasstill
young.Myunclewaspartofmylifeandthenhewasnot.
Iwassevenyearsoldwhenhesatmeontheedgeofhisbedandsaid,“Iamgoingawayforalongtime.”
Ilookedathimconfusedandtearsalreadystartedtospilldownmycheeks.“Ihavegottenajobonthe
othersideoftheworldinacountrycalledAustralia.”Ilookedathimasmytearsflowed.Iwasn'tstupid
andknewhowfarawaythecountrywas.
“Idon'twantyoutogo,”Icried.
“Ihavetogotobuildabetterlifeformyself.Icantstayhere,”hesaidmotioningtothebasementhehad
calledhomefornearlytwoyears.
“Youcanhavemyroom.Icansleepdownhere,”IsaidasItriedtocomeupwithanykindofsolution.
HelookedawayfrommeandIhadcaughttheglistenoftearsinhiseyes.Thesightofthetearsswellingat
thecuspbeforetheyspilleddownhischeekssentmeovertheedgeandIstartedwailing.Igotupfromthe
bedandkickedoneofhispileofbooksoverasIstormedoutandclimbedthestairsawayfromhim.
“Sashaplease,”hecalledaftermeinacrackedvoice,“Letmeexplaintoyouaboutthemove.”
Ididn'twanttolistenandwhenIthinkbackonitnowIcanfeelmycheeksredden.Worsebehaviourfrom
me was still on the horizon. I spent the next two days in my room alternating between crying and lying
wideeyedandexhaustedstaringupatmyceiling.EverytimeIcaughtsightofanyofthebooksthatTyron
hadgiftedmeIwouldstartupagainuntilmythroatwasrawfromemotion.
My mother and father took it in turns to try to coax me out of my room. I wouldn't listen and when my
mothertoldmeTyronwasleavingintwodaysIbecamemoreclosedoff.“Ineverwanttoseehimagain,”
Isaidwiththeferocityofachild.
OnthedayofhisdepartureIwouldn'tleavemyroomandwhenhetriedtoenterIscreamedandshouted
likeIwasbeingattackeduntilheturnedandleftwithhisheadbowedandhiseyestearingup.Islammed
mybedroomdoorandburiedmyheadundermypillowasIwailedwithabrokenheart.Itwasn'tuntilI
heardthesoundofmyfatherscarstartingupthatasmallpartofmebrokelikeabrittletwig.Ijumped
from my bed and ran down the hall to the living room. I ran to the front window and watched as my
fatherscarpulledawayfromthehouseanddroveaway.ThelastlookIgotofmyunclewasaglimpseof
thesideofhisface,hisheadwasdownandIcouldseetearsstreamingfromhiseyes.
I ran to the front door with tears spilling down my cheeks and my chest heaving as I tried to catch a
breath.Ifumbledatthedoorandmyfingerswouldn'tworkasItriedtoopenthelock.Mymotherrushed
from the kitchen and swept me into her arms as she tried to absorb all my emotions. It didn’t work. I
pressedmyfaceintomymothersneckasIweptanddidn'tstopuntilIwasnumb.
ThatnightIdreamtofmyunclerunningthroughtheoutbackofAustraliafightingacrocodilethesizeofa
bus. While he was fighting the beast a snake was wriggling across the ground and I just knew he was
goingtobitemyuncleandhurthim.Itriedtoscreamouttohimandmyvoicecameoutnolouderthana
mouseuntilIwokeupinbedsoakedinsweatandstaringintothedarknessofmyroom.
The following morning while I was eating a cereal at the kitchen table and feeling in a total daze, my
mothersatdownacrossfrommeandsaid,“Tyronlovedyouverymuch.Ithinkyoushouldgodowntothe
basement.Heleftyouagift.”
Idroppedmyspoonintothebowlwithaclatterandwalkedonwobblylegstowardsthebasementdoor.
In my child's mind I thought that the surprise was going to be Tyron sitting in his favourite chair and
ploughingthroughanotherbook.
AtthebottomofthestairsIknewhewasn'tthere.Thebasementalreadyfeltdifferent,emptyandlacking
warmth. I turned the corner and saw the gift sitting on his foldout bed, now with all the blankets and
coversremoved.IapproacheditslowlyandmadeapromisetomyselfIwouldn'tcry.
Sittingonthebedwasabookwrappedinpurpletissuepaperandsecuredwithalengthoftwine.Isaton
thebedandpickedupthegift.Icouldfeeltheweightandsturdinessofahardbackbook.Iresteditonmy
lapandlookedattheneatknotkeepingitallheldtogether.Ipulledoneendofthetwineanditopenedand
fellaway.ThepapercrinkledasIslowlypulleditopen,carefulnottoripit.Alightfragrancewaftedup
fromthepaper.IfoldedbackthelayersanditrevealedahardbackeditionofThemarrowoftradition.I
ranmyfingeralongthetitleandfollowedtheswoopsandcurlsofthecursivewriting.Theletterswere
goldagainsttheblacknessofthecoverandwhenIliftedthebookuptomarvelatthegiftIsawthatthe
pageedgeswerealsogildedingold.
Iputthebookonmylapandopenedtothefirstpageandmyheartskippedabeat.Belowthetitleofthe
bookandwritteninmyunclesbeautifulscriptwastheinscription,“Keeponstrivingtobeabetterperson.
Youholdthekeyinyourhand,fromTyron.”
Iranmyfingeracrosswhathehadwrittenandmytearsstoppedforthefirsttimeinwhatfeltlikedays.I
would never stop missing my uncle and the book he left me and every one I read after that formed a
connectionbetweenusthatdistancecouldneverdiminish.
The second person who deeply effected me was my grandmother. While my uncle opened me up to the
worldofthebrainandarichinteriorlife,myGrandmotherwasmyguideintotheworldoftheheart.On
mymoststressedoutdayswhenIthinkIambeingperceivedasanunfeelingrobotIoftenthinkbacktomy
grandmother and the weekends spent in her small bungalow. She helped me become a more rounded
personandhelpedmetoseeitwasoktopeekmyheadupfromthelatestbookIwasabsorbedinandget
involvedwiththepeoplearoundme.Shehelpedmetocomeoutofmyshellandwasjustasinfluentialon
myformativeyearsasmyuncle.
WhenIwasayounggirltherewasnothingIusedtolovemorethencurlinguponmygrandmotherslap.
ShewasknownastheindomitableMs.BillyLeetoallwhoknewherandwhileIwasonherlapIwould
listentohertellmestoriesofherlifeinafaroffdistanttimeperiodIcouldhardlywrapmyyoungbrain
around.Atimefilledwithagreatdepression,segregation,andallouthardshipforourpeople.Shewould
talkofanAmericawhichhadchangedinsomewaysandstillinothers,lurkingrightbelowthesurface
stayedthesame.
Shetoldmeabouthousesmadeofthecheapestwoodandcoveredinrigidpapersmearedintar.Endless
storms of dust that wiped clean the land as far as the eye could see. She told me the look the people
aroundherwouldget,ahungryanimaldesperationthatshehopednevertoseeagain.Shetoldmeabout
oneofthehappiestdayssherememberedwhenaboyolderthenherhadmanagedtogethishandsonacup
of sugar as white as snow. An old man by the name of Clancy Wilson showed the boy how to boil the
sugarinwaterandusetherootsofthechicoryplantforflavouring.Themixturewasboiledupoveran
openfireandwhenitbecamethickenoughthatastickstoodstraightupthemanpouredthemoltensugar
outontoasheetofmetalthathehadscavenged.Mygrandmotherandatleasttwentyotherkidswatchedas
oldClancypouredthemilkyconcoctioninathinlayeronthemetal.Theoldmanthenmadethemwaitan
agonisinghourwhenhetookthesheetawayandresteditonhisbedinhisshack.
My grandmother told me that they must of ran past old Clancy sitting on an upturned bucket outside his
shackahundredtimesinthehour,botheringhimandyellingandscreamingaboutthesugar.Attheendof
thehourhebroughtthesheetoutandthesugarhadtakenonaslightyellowhueanditshonewithahigh
gloss.
Clancyrestedthesheetacrosshiskneesandwiththehandleofhisknifeusedforwhittlinghewhackedthe
surface of the hardened sugar. It cracked like glass, with spidery fractures spread out from the point of
impact.Thekidsallleanedforwardwaitingforwhatwastocomenext.Clancybrokeoffapiecethesize
ofhisthumbnailandpoppeditinhismouth.Heletoutamoanofhappinessandthekidsleanedineven
closerwiththeirmouthshangingopen.Clancypassedeachkidoutasliverasbigasthepalmoftheirs
hands.
Mygrandmotherwouldclosehereyeswhenshespokeaboutthefirstlickofthehardcandy.Upuntilthen
shehadnevertastedsomethingsosweet.Shebitintoitandchompedonachunkofitasmanykidsaround
herdidthesame.Shethenrantotheedgeofthecampwiththestickyshardinherhandandshoweditto
hermother.Hermothertookatinynibblefromthecornerandletmygrandmotherkeeptherestforherself.
She made that shard of hard candy last for two weeks. She wrapped it in a piece of muslin and kept it
underherpillow.Everymorningbeforeshewenttofetchwaterfromthesharedwellshewouldbreakoff
a tiny piece of the sugar candy and allow it to melt on her tongue. My grandmother said that those tiny
biteseverymorningwastheclosestsheevergottopureblissinherlife.
ShewasfilledwithanendlessamountofstoriesthatIwasalwaystransfixedby.Hertaleswerefilled
with the hardships of her early life and the changes she had lived through in her life, seeing things she
neverthoughtwouldchangeandthenalsoseeingthesametraitsshiftandhideintheshadowsandnever
reallygoingaway.Shetoldmestoriesfilledwithadventureaboutrelativesfromlongagowholivedin
othercountriesandthecrueltyofthemenwhocapturedthemforprofit.Sheweavedatapestryofstories
abouttheoneswhohadcomebeforeusandourconnectiontoeachandeveryonewhohadsacrificedand
made it possible for the next generation to survive. She was a storyteller in the finest tradition and my
timewasspentwithherabsorbingthestoriesshetoldme.
I’dsitonherlapandstareupintoherlargeyellowingeyesandlistentohertellmethetaleofhowshe
meetherfirsthusband.AsthefamiliarbeatsofthestorywashedovermeI’drestmyheadonherample
bosom and listen to the slow thunk of her heart. A sound that my young ears believed had always and
would always beat its rhythm as long as the world existed. It was steady and powerful and hearing it
whenIpressedmyeartoherchestmadeeverythingrightintheworld.
Ihadheardherstoriesaboutmygrandfatheroncountlessoccasionsandwhenshestartedtotellmeone
againitwaslikeslippingintoyourfavouritewornandcomfyslippers.Iespeciallylovedhearingabout
herfirstmeetingwithmygrandfather.Whentheyfirstmethewasawiryandnervousboyofjustshyof
sixteen.Theycourtedandfellforeachotherandwithinayearbothfamiliesagreeditwastimeforthemto
marry.Mygrandmotherwouldtellmethatwhenyouareinloveeverythingcomeseasytoyou.Thebig
decisionsinherlifethatwerenowloomingonthehorizonwerenolongerscarywithmygrandfatherby
herside.AtthispointofthestoryIhuggedmegrandmotherallthetighterasIknewwhatwascoming.
Mygrandfatherhadajobinthepapermill,andheworkedtheonlypositionthatthebosswouldgivetoa
blackman.Threeweeksbeforetheweddingwaswhentragedystruck.Hisjobwastosweepandcleanup
thescrapsfromthenewlyproducedrollsofpaper.Onthisfatefulautumndaywhenoneofthemachines
brokedownhewasorderedbyawhitesuperiortoclimbintooneofthelargecuttingmachinestoremove
ablockage.ThetruesequenceofeventshaslongbeenlostorasmyGrandmotheralwayssuspectedwas
coveredupbythemenwhowitnessedit.
Whilemygrandfatherwascrawlingonhisstomachinsidethebellyofthemachinesomethingwentwrong
withit.Themachinestirredtolifewhilehewasinthecuttingchamberandabladethatcouldcutthrough
hugethicknessesofpapersliceddownandhewasinstantlykilled.
ThreedaysafterthefuneralmyGrandmotherwassittingontheporchstaringunblinkinglyattheswaying
scrubgrasswhenthetearsbrokeandherwholebodyshookwithuncontrollablesobbing.Atthatmoment
asgriefanddespairtorethroughherbodysheknewonethingwithutmostclarity.Mygrandmothersatand
staredattheworldaroundherandsheknewinherverysoulthatshewaspregnant.Ninemonthsafterthe
funeralshehadmymother.
Atthispointofthetalemygrandmotheralwayslookeddownatmeandtookmytinyhandinhergnarled
and twisted hand which looked as if it was carved from the root of some ancient tree, and tell me “In
tryingtimesyouhavetobestrong.Strengthiswhatmatters.”
SometimesattheendofthestoryIcried,notfullyunderstandingwhatitmeanttolosesomeonethatyou
loved,feelingadeeplongingforagrandfatherIwouldnevermeet.SometimesIjustcriedbecauseshe
criedasthetalewastold.NowwasthetimeIneededtobestrong.Thenewsreporthadsaidthattheboat
waslostinastormoutatseaandthattherescueeffortsweregroundeduntilflightconditionsimproved.
Letting the sadness in that was pushing at my edges would do me no good. Even though I barely knew
JonasavoiceinsidemeinsistedthatImakemywaybacktoIsafjordur,IhadtobeinthetownwhenI
foundoutanynews.
ChapterEight
IleftKeflavikairportandhailedacab.IneededtoheadbacktoReykjavikcitycentreairportandgetthe
firstinternalflighttoIsafjordur.Iwantedtobetherenomatterwhatthenewswasgoingtobe.
Thecabdrovealongtheroadwhichsnakeditswaythroughendlessfieldsofvolcanicrock.Istaredoutas
the scenery whipped by, a blur of jagged rocks interspersed with bright green moss which clung to the
sidessurvivingagainstallodds.
Theguidebookshaddescribedthevolcaniclandscapeaslunar,rightnowitfeltlikeIwasmovingthrough
hell.Facelessandunchangingwithsmallpatchesoflifeclingingtoruttedpeaks.Thisplacelookedlike
somewhereyouwouldekeoutanexistence,itwasnothinglikethebeautifullushfjordIhadbeeninonly
daysbefore.
Thesnowwascomingdownheavilyandthelightwasquicklyfading.Atthistimeofyearthesunjutted
abovethehorizonforahandfulofhoursandthenwasgone.Thewholeplacewasbathedinawashedout
lightthatmadeitfeellikeyoulivedinanendlessdusk.
Snowclungtosomeoftheharshjaggedrockssofteningtheoutlineslightly.Idarklythoughttomyselfthat
the softer curves looked like dead bodies laid out on the ground with a sheet haphazardly thrown over
them.
Myeyesglazedattheendlessmonotonouslandscape.Ifeltalienanddisconnectedfromeverythingaround
me.OnlydaysbeforeIhadfeltadeepconnectiontothisland,anancientstirringinmysoulwhenIhad
seenthewideopenvistasofthefjordsandthedazzlingdisplayofnorthernlightsinthenightsky.NowI
feltnothingbutanimositytothisforeignlandanditsharshweather.Theverylandscapewhizzingbythe
cabswindowfeltlikeathreattome.Thesharprocksseemedtobegoadingmeintheirsilentwitness,you
arenotcutoutforthetrueharshnessofthisland.Thisisthetruefaceofthistinyislandnestlingupagainst
thearcticcircle.MyresolvefadedwitheverymilewedroveandbythetimeIcouldseethelightsofthe
cityinthedistanceIfeltthoroughlydefeated.
AnhourlaterIwasbackinthetinyReykjavikcitycentreairportwithaflightbookedtoIsafjordur.Ihad
twohourstokillandthethoughtofsittinginthecrampedwaitingareaandcatchingtheopenstaresfrom
thelocalsdidnotsoundappealing.Icheckedmybagsandwentoutsidetoexplorethesurroundingarea.
WheneverIwasstuckonaparticularlyhardcodingproblemIalwaysfoundthebestwaytosolveitwas
toleavemydeskandtakeastrolldowntothesmallparknearouroffice.Iwouldpushthepieceofcode
thatwasgivingmehelltothebackofmymindandthenswitchintowhatIcalledautomode.I’dletmy
mindgoblankandthenwalkatabriskpacearoundthepark.Ididthisinallkindsofweatherandusually
by the third or forth circuit of the park an idea would bubble up and I would have a new solution or a
novelwaytocodearoundmyparticularproblem.Thephysicalactofwalkingalwaysworkedforme,it
bothcalmedmymindandsharpeneditsfocus.Ineededthefreshaironmyfaceandmymusclesworking
todragmyselfoutofthepitIwassinkinginto.
Icrossedacoupleofstreetsatrandomandwasnowinautomodewindingmywaythroughthecompact
streetsthatsurroundedtheairport.MentallyIwaslayingdownatrailofbreadcrumbssothatIcouldfind
my way back easily. The houses on the street were all painted bright colours and clad in corrugated
siding. This was the traditional Icelandic style of house and most houses in this area looked like this.
MaybethebrightcolourswasthelocalsdefenceagainstthelongdarkwintersIthoughtasIwalked.
OneverycornerIturnedtherewasusuallyalargecatwaitingtogreetmeashesurveyedhissurrounding
kingdom. The snow had stopped falling and there was a light dusting on the ground. Trails of cat paw
printsintersectedandwoundtherewaythroughthesnowastheanimalsrangedacrosstheirdomains.
The chill air against my skin felt good and I could feel my anxiety level drop with each new block I
passed.Ididn'tknowwhattoexpectwhenIwouldlandinIsafjordurorevenwhoIcouldtalktobutI
knewIhadtobetherewhenIfoundoutJonas’sfate.Itookhisbusinesscardoutofmypocketandkissed
itgently,IwouldseehimagainItoldmyself,hopingItwasnotinvain.
The sky was a sapphire blue as the plane banked hard towards the small airstrip in the wide mouthed
fjord that Isafjordur town was nestled in. The plane touched down gently and with no drama. Within
twenty minutes I was off the plane and in a taxi heading towards the only hotel in the centre of town.
Fatigue was starting to fray the corners of my mind so I checked in and collapsed on the bed and slept
untilmorning.
Mydreamswherepepperedwithscenesoftinyfishingboatsbeingengulfedbyhugesuckeredtentacles
wrappingthemselvesaroundtheboatandpullingthevesseldownintothechurningdepths.Menroared
and stabbed at the slimy tentacles to no avail. The ship cracked and snapped in two as it was dragged
underandthesoundofmensgurglinggaspsastheydrownedawokemewithajoltfrommyslumber.
EverythingwasdarkandIgroggilycheckedmyphoneforthetime.Itwas10:22A.M,Isilentlycursedthe
long Icelandic winter mornings. I put on the TV and checked the local news. The overly tanned
newscaster spoke Icelandic over a clip of kids throwing snowballs at each other. I watched for a few
minutesandtherewasnomentionoftheboat.Istaredatmyphoneinmyhandasthebrightlightstungmy
sleepyeyes.IttookafewsecondsformybraintoregisterandthenIpeckedoutanemailtomyteamback
home.Igavethemthegoodnewsaboutournewclientsandleftoutanymoredetails.Iendedtheemailby
telling them I might be spending the holidays in Iceland. I winged off a couple of emails to family
memberslettingthemknowIwasokandImightnotbeonlineonChristmasmorningforourannualgroup
videochat.Overtheyearsmyfamilyhadspreadouttoallcornersofthestatesandwedidn'talwaysget
together to celebrate. On the years that we could all be together we had made it a tradition to spend at
leastanhourinthemorninginabigchaoticvideochat,filledwithpeopletalkingoveroneanotherand
sometearfilledeyesasithitsomethatavideoonascreencouldneverreplacebeingalltogether.When
the last email was sent with a whoosh and all obligations meet my sense of disconnection hit me full
force.Iwasuntetheredfrommylifeandunsurewhatthenextfewdayswouldholdforme.
Back home my life was so regimented. My work schedule was planned out months in advance as we
tackledeachmoduleinourapplication.Mysociallifewasnodifferentandsittingallaloneinahotelin
ruralIcelandIrealisedthatallspontaneityhadbeensuckedoutofmylife.Iwasbeholdentoanelectronic
calendarwitheverydayaccountedfor.Maybethisstiflingconformitywaswhatwasmakingmewantto
packitallinandliveinsucharemoteplaceormaybeitisbecauseofJonasIthoughtandfeltatightness
inmychest.
Icouldalsofeeladullacheinmyjointsandmybodyfeltlikeithadbeencastoutoflead.Everything
lookedgreyandwashedouttomeandIcouldfeeldreadnippingatmyheals.Iamarationalandlogical
person I told myself, don't panic until you know more. I did not want to waste mental cycles on an
outcomeIcouldnotcontrolItoldmyselfasItriedtoapplythecoldlogicofprogrammingtomylife.In
the real world I knew the unexpected happened and unlike when programming, I couldn't go back and
tinker with some lines of code to produce another outcome. Maybe thats why I loved to live in the
structuredworldoftechsomuch,Icouldn'thandletheuncertaintyofreallife.IneededtochangethisI
knew.Ibreathedindeeplyafewtimesandreadiedmyselftofacetheworldandheadeddownstairsto
thereception.
AsIwalkeddownthecorridortowardstheelevatorJonas’sfaceflashedintomymindforthebriefestof
seconds. It was not the face of the caring handsome man that I had spent an amazing night with. What I
imaginedwasthebloatedandgreypallorofsomeonewhohaddrownedatsea.Mylegsfeltweakanda
coldsweatdrenchedmybody.Isteadiedmyselfagainstthewallandsaidoutloud“Pullyourselftogether
Sasha”.
ThenightmareimagerecededandImademywayslowlydownstairs.Theladyinreceptionworeacrisp
bluesuitandthecolourmadeherpaleIcelandicskinlookallthemoretranslucent.ThelongerIspentin
thiscountrythemoreIwitnessedthatitwasn'tjustthelandscapethatwasstunning.
“HowareyouthismorningMs.Lee?”shegreetedmeinhersingsongenglish.
“Icouldbebetter.Isthereanynewsabouttheherringboatthatwentmissingafewnightsago?”Iasked.I
noticed that her eyes looked tired and ringed in red and even the liberal amount of makeup she wore
couldn'thideit.BeforeshespokemystomachlurchedandIknewbadnewswascoming.
“Latelastnighttheyfoundmostofthecrew.Therescuehelicopterwasabletoleaveyesterdaywhenthe
stormstopped.Theshiphadgonedownclosetoshoreandthecrewswamtosafety.Themenmadetheir
waytoanabandonedmountainhutneartowheretheylandedandstayedputuntiltheywhererescuedlast
night.Twoofthecrewarestillmissing,”shesaid.
IdugmynailsintomyhandsbeforespeakingandIcouldalreadyfeelmybodybegintoshake.“DidJonas
Danielssonmakeitashore”Isaidhearingthequiverinmyvoice.
“I don't know that as they haven't released the names on the news yet. The crew is still in the hospital.
Theysufferedsomehypothermiaanddehydration.Thelatestreportthismorningwasthatafulllistofthe
menwhowererescuedwillbereleasedtothemediaatnoon,”shesaid.
IneededtogettothehospitalasquicklyaspossibleotherwiseIwouldbeconsumedbythisfeelingof
dreadandIwouldn'tbeabletofunction.Ijustwantedtothrowmyselfontothefloorandcry.BestrongI
toldmyselfthisisallatest,atestofyourstrength.Ithoughtofmygrandmotherandherwisewordsabout
trying times and I tried to do her proud by holding myself together. I was helping no one if I let the
darknessseepinandallowedmyselftobecomeanemotionalwreck.
ChapterNine
Avacantcabwaswaitingoutsidethehotelandweheadedtothehospital.Thetownwascoveredwitha
blanketofsnowandcolouredlightsblinkedfromshopwindows.Withinfiveminuteswewhereoutside
the hospital, a large imposing grey building. It was so solidly and plainly built that it stood in stark
contrasttothesmallcolourfulhousesthatcrowdedthetowncentre.Thebigblockygreybuildinglooked
morelikeacementfactorythanaplaceofhealing.
Istoodattheentrancebreathingdeeplyandreadiedmyselffortheworst.Theyoungreceptionistdidn't
havethenamesoftherescuedfishermenanddirectedmetothewardtheywherein.
Ifollowedthegreenlineonthewallthatleadtothefishermen'sward.Iknewwitheachstepalongthe
corridorIwasgettingclosertoamomentofchangeinmylife.Onepathleadtoameadowofsunshineand
chirping birds swooping through the air and the other path lead its way through a dark decaying forest.
TimeslowedasImoveddownthecorridor,eachclickofmyhealonthefloorcausedmetoballmyfists
tighter and my nails dug crescent moons into my palms. At that moment I knew that he didn't make it, I
couldfeelthisknowledgepushingdownonmyskull.Crushingmewithitsweightandgrindingallhope
outofme.Ihadneverfeltmorecertaininmylifeaboutanythingandalllogicandrationalityhadleftme
farbehind.IknewthatJonaswasgoneandasIgotclosertothewardIcouldfeelmyselfslowingdown
as this horrible idea gripped on to my imagination. Jonas was lost at sea that much I was certain of. I
swallowedhardasItriedtoholdbackthetears.
I turned the corner and Jonas was standing at the far end. I could feel tears stinging my eyes and I
increasedmypace.Hewasonthephoneandhelookedup.ItreallywasJonasandasmileengulfedhis
facewhenheseenmebarrelingtowardshim.Myheartachedaswedrewcloser.Jonasopenedhisarms
wideandhehadtearsinhiseyestoo.Hewrappedhismassivearmsaroundmeandpulledmeclose.I
heldhimastightasIcouldandsobbedintothewarmthofhisneck.“IneverthoughtI’dseeyouagain,”I
saidbetweensobs.
“Me too” he said. My heart rose and soared above the clouds and colour returned to the world.
EverythingsnappedbackintoplaceandIfeltlikeIwashomeandsafewhileinhisembrace.
Heranhisworkhardenedhandalongmycheekandtiltedmyfacetowardshim.Ourlipstouchedandit
waslikeanelectricshockwassentthroughmybody.Ipulledhimcloseandranmyfingersthroughhis
hairandkissedhimdeeply.Iknewitrightthenstandinginthatantiseptichospitalcorridor,Iwasfalling
inLovewithJonasandfallingforhimhard.Therationalpartofmeknewitwasallhappeningtoofast,
but the cold voice of reason was losing against the warm feeling inside me. As we kissed it was the
intensityofmyfeelingsthatblottedoutanyrationalvoiceinmyhead.Ihadleadmylifeinasequenceof
measured risks, never taking too much of a chance. Now as we kissed and my heart swelled with
happiness I knew that I had to change, I had to be more like my grandmother and follow my heart no
matterwhattheconsequencescouldbe.NomoresecondguessingmyselfIthought.
Thesoundofclappingdraggedmeoutoftheblissfulfeelingaswekissedandwhenweseparatedwesaw
a small bunch of doctors and nurses standing around clapping and cheering. Jonas beamed and it was
infectious.Iletoutanuncontrollablelaughasthelastofthetensionleftmybody.
“Leaveusaloneyouperverts,”Jonassaidandeveryonelaughed.
Jonasleadmetohisroomandwesatonthebed.Heheldmyhandsandlookeddownathislap.Icould
seehewasbuildinguptotellingmeeverything.
“Youdon’thavetodothisnow,”Isaidandrubbedthestubbleonhischeeks.
HelookedupatmeandIknewhehadtotellme.“Itwashorrible.Wewereallinourbunkswhentheboat
driftedandhitsomerocks.Itallhappenedsofast.Wewereinthewaterandonlysomeofushadmanaged
tograboursurvivalsuits.Inthosetemperaturesyoucouldbedeadwithinminuteswhenyouhitthewater.
We were lucky the boat had crashed not too far from shore and eight of the crew of ten made it to the
shoreline.Weneverseentheothertwo.ItwasRafnandayoungguywhowasn'tveryexperiencedatsea,
hewasonhiswinterbreakfromuniversityandjoinedusforsomeextracash.Oneoftheotherguysknew
roughlywherewehadlandedashehadhikedextensivelyaroundtheareaeveryyearduringthesummer.
Heleadustoamountainrescuehutafewkilometresaway.Bythetimewegottheremostofushadno
feelingsinourfeetorhands.Wegotafiregoingandkeptwarmasbestaswecould.Thenextmorningthe
helicopterfoundus.”
Hepausedforaminutestaringoffintothedistance.IknewifIlookedhimdirectlyintheeyeIwouldstart
cryingagain.Hemustbebrokenupinsideabouthisfriend.IhadonlyseenhiminteractwithRafnfora
fewminutesandduringthatglimpseIhadseenthattheyhadtheclosenessoftwobrothers.Ireachedout
andtookhishandinmine.
Hecontinued“IfanybodycanmakeitoutthereinthatharshweatheritsRafn.Imnotgoingtogiveupon
thattoughguyyet.HeisasurvivorandIhaveneverseenanythingbeathimbefore.RememberItoldyou
abouttheschoolhousefire?”Inodded.
“Hewastheonewhosavedme.Ifitwasn'tforRafnIwouldn'tbeheretoday,”Jonassaidandclenched
hisjaw.“Imanagedtofindthemissingkidhuddledbehindapianointhemusicroom.Ipickedhimupin
myarmsandmademywaybacktowardsthefrontdoor.Bynowthehaironmyheadwasstartingtosinge
andmylungsfeltliketheyweregoingtoburstintoflames.Iwasonlyafewfeetfromthedoorwhenpart
of the roof collapsed pinning the kid and I underneath the heavy oak beams. I struggled to lift them but
couldgetnoleverage.”
Jonasliftedmyhandtohislipsandkissedthebackofitbeforecontinuing.“Ifaceddowndeathandknew
this was the end for me. My world was beginning to fade to black when through the billowing smoke
cameRafn.Hewedgedhimselfundertheburningbeamsandliftedthemoffofusandthendraggedbothof
us coughing and spluttering into the light. Rafn collapsed beside us, his back was badly burned and he
spentthenextthreeweeksinthehospitalgettingtreated.Iwasinforaweekandluckilyhadn'tbeenas
burntashim.Thekidthankfullywasok.IvisitedRafneverydayandhelpedhimthroughthehardroadto
recovery.ThatmanislikeabrothertomeandIowehim.ImgettingaboatandIamgoingtogolooking
forhim.IowehimmylifeandIknowhewoulddothesameforme.”
Iwantedtoprotest,IhadjustgotJonasbackandnowhewasgoingtoheadoutontotheseaagain.Iknew
anythingIwouldsaywouldbefutilesoIjustsaid“YouareagoodmanJonas”andIkissedhimtenderly
onthecheek.
Heheldmyfaceinhishandsandlookeddownatme.“Iamcomingbackdon’tyouworryaboutthat.I
don'tthinkthereisaforceinthistinyarcticcountrythatcouldkeepmeawayfromseeingyouagain.”
“Promise,”Isaidfightingbacktears.
“Ipromise,”hesaidwithaseriouslookonhisface.
We checked out of the hospital and were in a taxi once again as it made its way along the thin strip of
blacktopthatclungtothesideofthefjord.Theseawascalmwithsmallwhitebirdsbobbingalonginthe
currents.Chunksoficeofdazzlingwhitemovedslowlyinthecurrentsandinplacesathinlayerofice
thatlookedlikeitwasmadeoffrostedsugarbobbedupanddownwiththegentlerollofthewaves.
WepulleduptoJonas’ssmallwoodenhouseandgotout.WasitonlyafewdaysagothatIwasfirsthereI
thought. With everything that had happened It felt like another lifetime ago. My rush of meetings at the
universities and the pride I’d felt at closing the deals seemed so far away now. All thoughts of my
businessandteambackinSanFranciscohadbeenforgottenaboutassoonasIhadgotthehorriblenews
aboutJonas.AsIstoodbreathinginthecrispfreshairofthefjorditfeltlikethiswasthefirsttimeindays
thatIcouldbreathwithoutatightbandoftensioncompressingme.IneverdreamedIwouldbebackhere
sosoonandmyeyessoakedupeverylittledetailoftheplaceagain.
ThetaxipulledawayandJonasliftedmeintohisarms.Withhismassivestrengthheheldmealoftwith
ease.Inuzzledintothewarmthofhisneck.“I’mreallygladyoucameback,”hewhisperedintomyear.
“IneverthoughtIwouldseeyouagain,”Ireplied.
OnceacrossthethresholdIfeltarisingwarmthinmystomachandmycheeksbrieflyflushed.Allthepain
andanguishofthepasthoursslippedawayandIwantedtobeclosetoJonasagain.
Wedidn'tneedtospeakandhecarriedmeintothebedroomandloweredmetothebed.Hebenttokiss
me and I greedily pulled him close to me. Our tongues danced across each others and my senses were
filledwiththetasteofthisvikingman.Jonastrailedhiskissesdownmybody,hiswarmlipsandtongue
leavingasweetticklingsensationastheymoveddownmystomach.
Myclotheswerenomatchforthevikingandwithacoupleofswiftmovesheslippedmyskirtandpanties
off.Ithrewmyheadbackwaitingforwhatwasabouttocome.Heopenedmylegsandrankissesupmy
thighs and when he reached my silken folds he flicked his tongue across the surface. I let out a long
appreciativemoan.Mytoescurledatthesensation.WhenhistongueslidintomeIbuckedupoffthebed
andletoutalongsigh.AllthetensionleftmybodyasJonasmasterfullyusedhistongueandfingerson
me.Icouldfeelmyselfabouttopeakalreadyasheworkedhismagiconme.Iwantedhiminsidemewhen
IreachedmyclimaxandIreacheddownandranmyfingersthroughhishair
Ipulledhimtowardsmeandwefumbledwithhisbeltbuckleandheroughlypulledoffhistrousers.Jonas
roseupandwelockedeyes.Nowordsneededtobesaid.Icouldseehefeltthesameasme,thiswas
more then just animal lust. This was a real moment of connection between us, all fears about it being
nothingbutaonenightstandevaporatedlikesteam.
Jonas slid into me smoothly and we both moaned at the exquisite sensation. I could already feel my
orgasmabouttopeakandmybreathstartedtocomeinraggedbursts.Jonasspeeduphisthrusts.There
would be time for long passionate love making sessions once we quenched our burning need for each
other.Rightnowwebothneededthisandeachothermorethananythingelseintheworld.
Our eyes never left each other. My orgasm slammed into me and I let out a series of moaning gasps.
Jonas’seyestwinkledwithamischievousandsatisfiedglean.Hehadbeenholdingonforthismoment.
Hishipthrustsspeedupandhecameinmeasmybodywasilluminatedupbytheradianceofmyorgasm.
Mybodyhummedwiththepleasurecoursingthroughme.
Heslowedhispaceasthepeakofourcombinedpleasurebegantoebbaway.Jonasrolledoverbeside
meandheldmeinhisarms.Ilaymyheadonhischestandlistenedtothesteadybeatingofhisheart.
As the druggy relaxed post lovemaking euphoria set in Jonas said, “Sasha I’d love if you could stay in
Isafjordur for some more time. I don’t want to scare you off with how sudden this all is, I’m falling in
lovewithyou.”
Hisheartbeatspeedupwhenhesaidthosewords.Minewasbeatinglikeadruminmychestandawave
ofhappinesswashedoverme.Howcouldthisbehappeningtomesoquickly?Iwasneverthisirrational
backhome.IhadalifeinSanFrancisco,asteadyjob,asmallgroupofreliablefriendsandthenextfive
yearsallmappedoutbeforeme,couldIreallygiveitallupIthought.ThenIrealisedthatIhadonlyever
been living a half life back home, one filled with productive days and very little left in the margins.
Maybeitwasthepartofmethatenjoyedcodingsomuchthathadmademestructuremydailyroutinelike
itwasaproblemthatneededtobesolved.Programminghadthoughtmetobeflexiblewhenfiguringouta
unique solution to a problem but I had never done that in my own life. I had been living a safe and
premeditatedexistencewithcolouredlabelsonacalendardictatingwhatIwasgoingtodoonanygiven
day. The trip to Iceland was the first time uncertainty had been introduced into my life and the whole
experiencehadbeenanawakening.EvenatthetimeswhenIwasthemostdistraughtaboutJonasIknew
thatthisiswhatlifeisabout,thehighsandthelows.Ihadspenttoomuchtimebackhometuningmylife
sothateverythingwasastraightlinewithnodeviation.Ihadbeenlivingagreylifefilledwithastifling
structureofmyownconstruction.IcelandwasthefirsttimeIgotthechancetobreakfreeandseewhata
fulllifecouldbe.IknewwhatIwasgongtosayandanyconcernsevaporatedlikesnowflakesinthesea.
“Iloveyoutoo”Ireplied.
Wesatupinthebedandheldeachotherforawhilewithoutsayinganythingmore.Itfeltright,thiswas
whereIshouldbe.Allpracticalconcernsseemedmeaningless.Iwantedtospendmylifewiththisviking
man.
Wemadeloveagainandthistimeitwasslowandpassionate,theanimalintensityofbeforetemperedby
my deep feeling for him. I loved Jonas and he loved me. The simplicity of the feelings brought a new
depthtoourlovemaking.
LaterwhileJonaswasmakingusastrongcupofblackcoffee,mymindwandered.Ithoughtabouthow
differentmylifewouldbeinthisfjordcomparedtomyhecticlifeinSanFrancisco.Therationalsideof
mybrainwasalreadyworkingouthowIcouldrunmyteamfromthisremotelocationandtheemotional
partwasdreamingaboutthenewfulllifeIcouldleadwithJonas.
WesatquietlydrinkingourcoffeeandIdreadedthemomentthatwascoming,Iknewwhathewasabout
tosayevenbeforeheutteredthewords.IknewthekindofmanhewasandIwouldn'thaveitanyother
way. Jonas stood up and said “I am going to the harbour now and I’m going to set sail and find Rafn.
ThereisonlyafewhoursofdaylightleftIwillnotbegoneforlong.”
Arguingwithhimwouldofbeenpointless.Jonaswasabraveandhonourablemanandleavinghisfriend
strandedoutinthewildsofthefjordswasnotanoptionforJonas.Alessermanwouldofturnedhisback
believingnothingcouldbechanged.IcouldseeJonaswasnotreadytogiveuponhisfriendandhewould
notrestuntilhewassafeonshore.
We embraced tightly and Jonas said “I love you”. I don't think I could ever get bored of hearing those
wordsfromhimandmyskinprickledwhenhesaidthem.
“Iloveyoutoo”Isaidandheleft.
ThistimeIknewhewouldbeback.Iwouldnotallowmyselftothinkdarkthoughts.Jonaswasmybrave
vikingheroandIwashisAfricanAmericanqueen.Nothingcouldkeepusapartnow,Icouldfeelitinmy
hearteverytimeIthoughtabouthim.IsatinthesmallkitchendrinkingstrongblackcoffeeandIcounted
theminutestohisreturnandforthestartofmynewlifeinIcelandtobegin.
ChapterTen
TwoWeeksFromNow
Thegraveyardwasnestledagainstthegentlecurveofthebaseofthemountain.Aswastraditionallofthe
crosses marking the graves were made of wood reclaimed from the sea. No stone structures had been
erected in the graveyard in the three hundred years that the site was used for burials. The first settlers
made simple markings out of driftwood collected from the shore as raw materials were few. The first
people who settled this land also faced another problem, there was a lack of usable stone to build
dwellings with. The first houses built were simple constructions made out of mud bricks and covered
withalayerofsod.Whenthefirstroadsopenedtothemainlanditwasstilltooexpensivetotransport
headstones made out of granite and so the people of the fjord, without saying a word to each other,
decidedthattheywouldcontinuethetraditionoftheoriginalsettlersandonlyusesimplewoodencrosses
tomarktheirlovedonesfinalrestingplaces.
Lifeinthefjordwashardforthefirstsettlers.Longwintersandverylittlelandtocultivateforfarming
meant that the bounty of the sea was what allowed them to survive. Journeys out past the protective
mountainsofthefjordsandintotheopenseaweretakeninthedepthsofwinterandatagreatcost.As
timemovedonandthemudbrickhousesofthepasteventuallychangedtothewoodenframedstructures
of present day, one thing stayed the same. The call of the open sea and the lure of the flicker of silver
shoalsbeneaththechurningsearemainedaconstant.Thefjordswereaplacesteepedinsorrowasevery
generation lost their strongest to the clawing grasp of the open waters. Even as the towns of the fjords
shrunkaspeoplemovedtothebigcitiesandawayfromalifeonthesea,therewasstilladedicatedfew
thatwishedtokeeptheoldtraditionsgoing.Andlikeeverygenerationbeforeitthisonewouldalsosuffer
greatlossesfromtheendlesssurgeofthewideopenwaters.
Sashablinkedawaythesnowflakescatchinginhereyelashesandconcentratedatafaroffpointoutside
the bounds of the graveyard. At the sharpest angle of the mountain huge earthen banks had been
constructedtosweepanyavalanchesawayfromthehousesinitspath,andtodiverttheflowofsnowout
intothesea.Assheconcentratedonthepeakofoneoftheslopingbanks,threeravensroseinunisonwith
wingsoutstretchedandglideduntiltheywereobscuredbyanotherwalloftheavalanchebarrier.
A woman blew her nose into a crisp white handkerchief and Sasha turned away from the bright white
snowandmadeherselflookatthedarkoblongcutintothefrozenearth.Apileofsoilwaisthighandwith
ashovelstickingfromitspeakwasdustedwithasugarfrostingofice.Sashalookedatthehandleofthe
shovel and she felt tears begin to well up as she noticed the scuffed and worn marks on the wood. It
almostlookedlikefingershadmadesmoothgroovesinthehandlethroughyearsofuse.Howmanygraves
hadthebladeoftheshovelduginitslifetime.Howmanytearshadbeenshedbeforeitasitwaitedfor
humanhandstopickitupandbegintheprocessofshovellingtheearthbackintothehole.
The three ravens appeared in the distance and turned in a wide arc and headed in the direction of the
graveyard.Themiddleravenmadeaclickingsoundliketheturningofatumbleronasafedoorandthe
othertworavensreturneditscallwithdeepthroatyclicking.Atallmanwithasuitthatwasfrayedatthe
cuffslookedupatthebirdsastheyflewoverhead.Hefollowedtheirprogressastheyflewtowardsthe
redroofedchurchandthenonwardstowardsthefishdryingshacksattheedgeoftown.
Sashalookedoutacrossthegraveyardatthewoodencrosses,anythingsoshewouldn'thavetolookatthe
blacknessofthewaitinggrave.Thecoldwindblowinginfromtheseapenetratedhertoherbonesandall
thelayersshewaswearingseemedtohavenostoppingpower.Thecoldwasinherandsheshiveredand
struggledtoholdbacktearsasshethoughofthecoldnessoftheopenearthandthefinalrestingplaceof
alltocome.
Hesqueezedherhandanditbroughtherbackfromtheedgeoftears.Hisbulkwaslikeawallagainstthe
oncomingattackinghordesofgriefanddisbeliefthatthiswashoweverythingwouldturnout.Heputhis
armaroundherandshepulledinclosetohim,needingthecontacttohelphermakeitthroughtheday.His
bodyemanatedheatlikeastoneinafireplace.Itwasaconstantblastofwarmthandsheallowedhimto
holdhertight,toholdhertogetherthroughthisday.
Thetwentyorsowaitingpeopleweresilentuntilthegatetothegraveyardsqueakedonitshingesandthe
hearsedrovealongtheruttedroadandthenparkedclosetotheburialsite.
EvenwithtwopairsofglovesonSasha’shandswereshaking.Shestuckthemdeepintoherpocketstotry
tostopit.
“Doyouwantthese?”heaskedpeelinghisglovesoff.Hishandswerestillbandagedacrosshisknuckles
fromhiswounds.
Sashatookthemoffhimwithoutspeakingandslippedherhandsintothem.Shecouldn'tspeak.Sheknew
if she uttered a word she would immediately lose control and start weeping. She looked up at him
towering above her and blinked away snowflakes without saying anything. He looked down at her and
gaveheraweaksmile.ThebrashfriendlymanfromamonthagowasgoneandSashacouldseethepain
etchedinhisface.HewasstrongbuthealsoneededSashatobestrongforhim,sheknewthislookingat
him.Sheknewhewouldneveraskforherhelpdirectly.
“Wecangetthroughthisdaytogether,”Sashasaidinalowvoice.
He gave her shoulder a squeeze and then looked off across towards the mountains as the coffin was
carriedfromthehearseandplacedbesidethegrave.
ChapterEleven
PresentDay
Sashasatin the smallcozy kitchen andstared out at theswirling snow. Hervision jumped and strobed
withtheeffectsofcountlesscupsofstrongIcelandiccoffee.Shehadnoideahowlongshewassittingin
thekitchenstaringoutintotheblackness.Theonlymarkerofthepassageoftimewastheemptycupsitting
beforeherandtheritualofbrewinganotherpot.Jonascouldbegoneanhourorhecouldbegoneforever,
Sashawasnumbtothepossibilities.Sheknewhehadtobravethebadweatherforhisfriend,noamount
of her trying to dissuade him would of worked. Sasha knew that already about Jonas, he had a strong
moralcompassandhewascompelledtogosearchingforRafn,evenaftertheofficialsearcheshadbeen
calledoff.
As she sipped on another steaming hot mug of coffee Sasha followed the swirling patterns in the storm
outside.Itwaspitchblackoutandathicklayerofcloudobscuredthestars.Frombehindarollingbankof
clouds a dim glow could be seen, as if someone was shining a torch through a layer of fluffy cotton. It
could be the middle of the day or I could be in the depths of the night Sasha pondered as the blizzard
outsideseemedtocoalesceandformaswirlingconethatfocusedherattention.
A memory that hadn't surfaced in decades formed as she stared at the swirling mass outside and Sasha
closedhereyesandretreatedintoacherishedmomentfromherpast,atimewhenheruncleloomedlarge
inherlifeanditlookedlikehewouldalwaysbeapresencewhobroughthappinesstoher.Hismoveto
Australiaandthepainitcausedwasstillsometimeaway.
Sashaflungopenthedoortothebasementandbegantogodownthestairs,slowandcarefulashermother
hadshowedher.Whensheturnedthecornerattheendoftheshortcorridor,therehewas,heruncleTyron
sittinginhisfavouritereadingchairwithhisfeetproppedupandabookinhishand.Sashastoodinthe
doorwaywithoutsayingawordandwatchedherunclereaduntilhefinishedthepageandthenhelooked
upatherasasmilecrackedacrosshisface.
HissmilequicklyfadedwhenhesawSasha’sdownturnedeyesandthestressfurrowinghersevenyear
oldbrow.“Whatisit?”heaskedinhiswarmvoice,adeepbaritonethatremindedSashaoftherumbleof
anapproachingtrain.
Sasha looked up at him and then quickly diverted her eyes. “ Mary Jane Pupkin told me that reading is
dumb.Shecalledmeageekwhenshesawmereadingatlunchtime.Idon'twanttobeageek.”Hercheeks
burnedattheinsinuationthatbyproxyherunclewasalsoageek.
Tyronclosedhisbookandplaceditonthestackbesidehisbed.HemotionedforSashatocomeoverand
sitonthebedacrossfromhimandshedidthiswhilelookingawayandnotwantingtolookhimintheeye.
“Doyouthinkonlygeeksread?
“No,”Sashasaidinanunsurevoice.MaryJanewasapopulargirlinschoolandwhileSashadidn'twant
tobefriendswithheritstillhurtinsomeinexplicablewaythatMarythoughtofherasageek.
“Louder,”Tyronsaidwithasmile.
HissmilealwaysworkedonSashaandshesmiledbackandsaid,“Smartpeopleread.”
“Better,”Tyronsaid,“Don'tyoueverlistentoanykidthattriestoputyoudown.I’llletyouintoalittle
secret about those kinds of people. They usually have their own problems and they try to deflect it by
lashing out at others. I wouldn't be surprised if Mary Jane Pupkin is a slow reader and seeing you
enjoyingabookmadeherangry.”
Sashascrewedupherface,thiswassomethingshedidwhenshewasthinkinganditalwayscrackedup
Tyron.“MaryJanehadtoreadapassagefromthejunglebookouttotheclassandshestumbledoverher
words.”
Tyronslappedhisthighandsaid,“See,whatdidItellyou.Don'tletanythingshesaidtoyoulodgeinthe
old grey matter,” and he tapped his temple. “Are you up for a day trip?” he asked her as the smile
widenedonhisface.
“To the library?” Sasha asked. The nearest library was two bus journeys away and Tyron had been
promisingtobringherforthelastmonth.Sashahadonlyeverbeeninhersmallschoollibrarywhichwas
reallyonlyanemptyclassroomwithmetalshelvesaroundthewallsandtworowsdownthecentreofthe
room.Nothinghadbeendonetomakeitfeelmorethanamakeshiftsetup.AnytimeSashahadvisitedthe
place she had always crinkled her nose at the smell of mould that hung in the air. The school library
lookednothinglikethegrandbuildingthatherunclehadshownherinapicturebook.
ThebookwasfilledwithphotographsoflibrariesaroundtheworldandSashahadbecometransfixedon
thephotoofthelibraryinTrinityCollegeDublin.Stacksastallasahouseflankedacentralareathathad
deskswithlampswithcurvedbrassnecks.Oneoftheladderswaspulledrighttotheendofastackanda
woman in smart dress was at the peak and holding a leather-bound book the size of a dinner tray. The
picturewasbathedinwarmlightfromlampshangingonlongcordsfromthevaultedceiling.Thewhole
roomwasmutedbrownsandautumnalshadesandSashacouldalmostsmellthedecadesofpolishonthe
scuffedfloorboards.
ThelibraryinTrinityCollegewasaworldawayfromthedampsmellingroominherschoolthatserved
as their pathetic version of one. Sasha imagined herself sitting at one of the big oak desks with a lamp
overherpileofbooksassheleafedthroughanancienttomepackedwithillustrationsofanimals.Ever
sinceTyronhadshownherthebookshehadbeenaskinghimacoupleoftimesaweekifshecouldgoto
thelibrarywithhim.Hehadnevertoldherno,justaskedforpatiencefromherandnowitlookedlikeit
hadpaidoff.
Thedaytriptothelibrarywithherunclewasmorethanshecouldofeveraskedforandlookingbackshe
wishedshehadofnoticedhowguardedandstressedherunclehadbeen.Whenhebroughtherintothe
children's section that had furniture designed for children and bright paintings on the wall Sasha fell in
lovewiththeplace.Shewasgiddywithexcitementasshetookastackofbooksoffashelfandfounda
cornertabletoreadat.“DidItaketoomany?”Sheaskedheruncle.
“Knockyourselfoutkid,”herepliedwithacatchinhisvoice.Hegotupandfoundhimselfabookand
satdownbesideSasha.
ShefeltoldersittingbesideheruncleassheflippedthroughtheillustratededitionofRobinsonCrusoe,
being in the library was like stepping in to a secret part of adult life that Sasha had only ever seen in
pictures.Asshebrowsedthroughthebookshewasalreadyplanningothertripswithheruncle,toother
librariesallacrossthecity.
Itneverhappened.Daysafterthedaytriphermothertoldheroverbreakfastthatherunclewasgoingto
Australiaforwork.ThenewswaslikeaslaptothefaceandSashastruggledtoholdbackaflashoftears
andsaid,“Icanphonehim,orwritehimaletter,orsendhimapackagewithbooksforhimtoread.”
Hermothershookherheadslowlyandsaid,“He’sgoingtobemovingaroundalotandwontbeableto
contactus.Hewillbeworkinginplacesoffthebeatentracksoforawhilewhenheleaveswewontbe
abletohearfromhimatall.”
ThepainofhermothersliesstillhurtinSasha'schestwhenshethoughtbacktothatsummerandhowshe
hadwaitedeverydaybyherwindow,lookingoutforheruncletoambleupthestreetwithabookinhis
hand,wishingshehadofsaidgoodbyetohimwhenthechancewasthere.Sashawaitedallsummerandhe
neverreturned.
Sasha drained the last bitter drop of her coffee and got up and stretched. I can’t sit her wallowing she
thoughtasshegotupandlookedattherowofbooksonashelfattheothersideofthekitchen.Shecould
seewhythisroomwouldbeagoodonetositinandcurlupwithagoodbook.Thesmallsizeoftheroom
madeitfeelcozyandtheviewfromthewindowslookedacrosstheopenseatotheothersideofthefjord
withitstoweringmountainssmoothedbymonthsofsnowfall.Sheranherfingersalongthespinesofthe
bookandtriedtopronouncetheIcelandicnamesinherheadassheimaginedthesoundsforlettersthatshe
hadneverseenbefore.Herfingerstoppedononbookwithabluespineandanimageofagoldfishatthe
bottom.Shetookitoutandthenpulledherchairtothewindowatagoodanglesoshecouldseeawide
expanseofthestormbatteringthefjord.
Thefrontcoverofthebookhadablackandwhitepictureofawomanstandingoutsideahousemadeof
turfandcoveredinalayeroffuzzygrass.Thewomanworealongblackdressandawhitebibthatlooked
like traditional clothes. She had a fierce sternness in her eyes as she stared off at something out of the
frameofthepicture.Sashaflickedthroughthebookandfoundpageafterpageofoldpicturesofwomen
allwiththesamesternlookontheirfaces.EventhroughtheblankstaresSashacouldpickuponasadness
intheirlooksasiftheywerelookingouttowardsadistantfutureandabetterdaytocome.
ThefirstcoupleofpageswereallinIcelandicanditwasn'tuntilaquarterofthewayinthatSashafound
herfirstpassageinenglish.Thepicturewasofawomaninathickwoollenjumperwithherhairtiedupin
toaroundbun.Sheheldababyinherarmsandtwosmallchildrenstoodbesideher,theirhairblowing
backfromastrongwind.Thefamilystoodinafieldwithasmallcabininthebackgroundandbesidethe
womanwasahugecurvingpieceofwhalebonesittingonthegrass.Thewomanandthechildrenstared
acrossthefjordtowardstheneckofitthatopenedoutintotheoceanbeyond.Waveschurnedandcrashed
againstthesmalldockattheendofthefield.Sashafeltaballoftensioninherstomachasshebeganto
readthetextacrossfromthepicture.
Itread:KatyaKrumholtoriginallyfromGermanywatchesandwaitsforherhusbandandthecrewofthe
fishingboatthelittleducktoreturn.KatyamovedtoIcelandaftermeetingherHusbandinGermanyand
was living in the country ten years at the time of this picture She waited for seven days standing in the
fieldwatchingtheopenwatersofthefjordforanysignofherhusbandsreturn.Thatwinterthreeofthe
worststormsofthedecadehitthewestcoast.Manyliveswerelost.Katya'shusbandneverreturnedand
hiscrewofsixablebodiedmenwasneverfound.Thatyeartwelveliveswerelostoutatseainthefjord
knownlocallyas“thefjordofdeepshadowsandsorrow.”KatyasoonleftIcelandandnothingmoreis
knownofherfate.
Sashaslammedthebookshutandpusheditacrossthetableasifitwasscorchinghot.Shecouldfeeltears
begintowellupinhereyesandshetriedtoblinkthemawayassheturnedherchairaround,notwanting
tolookatthebookanymore.Isthishowmylifeisdestinedtogoshethought,theworldofterrorinducing
storms and tiny boats bobbing on waves the size of mountains is so far removed from my life of air
conditioned offices and project crunch time stress. Will I be one of those women staring off into the
distancewaitingforJonastoappearashetakesanotherriskwithhislifebygoingouttosea.SofarIhave
beendreamingaboutanewlifefilledwithquaintIcelandicvillageswithbrightlycolouredhouses,wide
open vistas of spectacular beauty and Jonas by my side. Am I naive for only thinking about that she
wondered.
Thealternativewaslikeacoldblastofwinterairthatsharpenedhermindtotherealpossibilitiesoflife
inaplacethatwassostunningandalsoonedrenchedinahistoryofdeathsatsea.Thiswouldbeyour
newrealitySashatoldherself,ifyoulivedinaplacelikethisfjordJonasoranyoneelseyougettoknow
will be tied to working on the sea. In the relative safety of San Francisco she had never really thought
aboutdangerslurkingaroundeverycorner.InIcelandshewasgettingthesensethatthingsweredifferent.
Thepeoplelivedwithnaturerightattheirfrontdoorandthecruelandunrelentingpoweritcouldyield
wasalwayspresent.
SashatriedtogetthepictureoftheGermanwomanoutofhermindanditwasn'tworking.Itwasasifshe
couldseeeverywrinkleandworrylineonthewomansfaceetchedoutinstarkcartoonishdetails,thick
dark brushstrokes across her face so that the pain of waiting was heightened. The walls of the cabin
bulgedinwardsandSashatearsbegintowellupagain.
Shegotupanddidwhatshealwaysdidbackhometoclearhermind.Sashagrabbedherjacketoffthe
rackbythedoorandslippedherfeetintoherboots.Snowpeltedoffthefrontdooranditsoundedlike
someonehurlinghandfulsofsandagainstit.I’mnotgoingtoletthestormputmeoffSashathoughtasshe
pulledherjacketuptightaroundherneck.Whensheopenedthedoorthefingersofwinterquicklymade
theirwayintothehouse,shegotoutandslammedthedoorshutbehindher.Snowcompactedaninchthick
onthedoorcameoffinalongchunkandfelltothegroundwithasoftthump.
ChapterTwelve
Sashapushedforwardthroughtheblowingsnow,shewasalonefigureagainstthesoftwhitelinesofthe
pathdowntothemainroad.Thepressingcoveringofcloudswasbeginningtosplitandascatteringof
starsnobiggerthanpixelsoflightpoppedintoexistenceasSashatrudgedthroughtheankledeeplayerof
snow. A single lane road followed the curve of the fjord and then disappeared around one of the sharp
bendsthatthejaggedlandscapecaused.NocarsdroveeitherwayandthetownofIsafjordurwasblocked
from view by the steep sides of a mountain covered in patches of snow like long scar marks along its
rockysurface.
Sashastoppedhalfwaydownthepathandturnedonthespot.ItslikeIamonanotherplanetshethoughtas
shescannedthelandscapeforanyothersignsoflife.Nothingstirredasfarasshecouldseeandtheonly
soundwasthegentlecrashingofthewavesaboutakilometreaway.Shelookedbackatthecabinandthe
lightsfrominsidecalledtoherlikeabeacon.Toughitoutshethoughtasshepushedonwards.I’llgoas
farasthemainroadandbackagainshethoughtasshepushedthroughvirginsnow.AsSashapushedon
hermindbecamerestfulassheenteredherfamiliarrelaxedstatethatwalkingbroughtonandshefocused
onnothingmorethanthesoundofherfeetcrunchinginthesoftsnowasshekeptmovingforward.
She passed the polished piece of driftwood by the side of the path and ran her gloved hand across the
wind blasted stub of a branch. For luck she thought even though her rational mind didn't allow for
superstitionstocreepintohereverydaylifebackhome.Therewassomethingdifferentaboutwhereshe
was that added a mythic quality to everything. The wide open fjords with their near vertical mountain
sides,relentlessweatherandclosenesstonature.Itmadeyoufeelsmallandatthesametimeconnectedto
the landscape around you in a way that Sasha had never experienced in the concrete world of San
Francisco.
Everythingwasreducedtotheminimumhumanelementsinthestunningsceneryofthefjords,life,death
loveandlossallcontainedintheshadowsofsteadfastandunwaveringmountains.Concernsthathadbeen
soimportantbackhomenowhadtakenonatrivialandsillytoneforSasha.Onlyaweekagoshehadbeen
fretting about meetings, packed schedules, catching up on a growing backlog of movies, books and TV,
backinguphercomputer,andathousandotherthingsthathadfilledhermindandherdays.Nowasshe
trudged through the snow and towards the coast road new priorities where becoming clear through the
blur of the storm. All of the old structures that Sasha had used to fill up her time and now she was
realisingtokeepherlonelinesssealedoffandcontained,theydidn'tmatteranymore.
IwanttolivethesimplelifeSashathought,onefilledwithnightsinfrontofthefirewithagoodbookand
Jonasbymysideasablizzardblowsdownfromthemountains.Sashastoppedinhertracksasthesnow
fellslowlyaroundher,I’mreallydoingthisshethoughtandfeltaknotoftensioninherstomach.Thelast
few days she had toyed with the idea of starting a new life in Iceland. Standing in the soft ankle deep
snowasfatflakesfellaroundhershenowknewthatatsomepointshehadcrossedthebridgefromher
oldlifetothewideopenpossibilitiesofalifeinIceland.Thelayerofsnowaroundhershimmeredasifit
was embedded with a million diamonds and as the clouds continued to shift more stars twinkled into
existence in the night sky. Sasha felt a thrill of excitement as she did a slow twirl in the perfect winter
landscapeshestoodupon.
Shefeltweightlessandherthoughtsfloatedaboveherintheswirlingsnowasdreamsofanewlifespun
about her. The dazzling whites of the snowy landscape mixed with the striking azure blue of a crisp
wintersmorningasSashatriedtoimaginethelandscapeshecrossedchangingwiththeseasons.Hermind
whirredasshewentthroughanendlesslistofthingssheneededtodotostarthernewlife.Shecontinued
ondownthepathasshementallypackedupheroldapartmentandpicturedacargocontainertravelling
acrosstheseatohernewhome.Whenshereachedthewoodenpostattheendofthepaththatmarkedthe
pointwhereitmeetthecoastroadshestoppedagainandwatchedasasetofcarlightsbobbedasthey
turnedthecornerontheroadfromtownanddroveinherdirection.
WhoamIkiddingshethoughtastheimageofthesadandbrokenGermanwomanoncemorefloatedinher
mind.Thisdreamcouldendbeforeitevenhasachanceofstartingup.Asshewatchedthelightsofthecar
cut through the blowing snow Sasha knew in every ounce of her being that the driver of the car was
bringingherbadnews.Shebitherlipasthesoundofthecarsenginebegantogetlouderasitapproached.
Shelookedbackatthecabinwhichlookedlikeatinybeaconoflight,asafeplacethatwouldfeellikea
museumifshehadtowalkbacktherewithbadnewsweighingherdown.
ThecardrewcloserandSashacouldmakeoutaloneoccupantandheflashedhislightsashegotcloser
andbegantoslowdownashedrewneartoher.Thisisitshethoughtandreadiedherselfforthecoldslap
oftheworstnewspossible.Thecarturnedontotheroaduptothecabinandpulledtoastop.Sasha'sheart
wasbeatingsofastshethoughtitwasgoingtoripthroughherchest.Thepassengerdoorswungopenand
thedriversaidafewwordsinIcelandic.Sashabentintotheopendoorandlookedatthedriver,hewasa
maninhisseventieswithbushyeyebrowsthatstuckoutlikebristlesonabrush,kindeyesthatpeeredout
fromunderheavylidsandawidesmilewithtwofrontteethmissing.
Hecrumpledhisbrowandpursedhislipsandsaid,“Sorryitsnotsoeasytoswitchtoenglishwhenyou
gettomyage.”WhenhespokehisvoicewhistledslightlythroughthegapinhisteethanditmadeSasha
smile.
“Not at all. Is everything ok?” Sasha asked, waiting for the horrible news to hit her like a backhanded
slap.
“Jonas sent me to get you. He radioed from his boat. He wanted me to bring you to my place to have
dinnerwithmeandmywife,”hesaidandpursedhislipsagainashetriedtograbholdofthewordshe
needed,“wouldyouliketojoinus?”
Sashafeltamomentofreliefwashoverher.IcantsitaloneinthecabinallnightI’lldrivemyselfcrazy
withworryshethought.
“I’dbeveryhappytotakeyouuponyouroffer,”Sashareplied.
“Jumpinthen.Getoutofthestorm,”theoldmansaidwithagrin.
Sashagotinandslammedthedoorbehindher.Theoldmanstretchedouthishandandsaid,“I’mGudtor.”
She took his hand and shook it, his hand had the same work hardened coarseness that she had felt on
Jonas’shand.WhentheirhandsseparatedGudtorhelduphishandandshowedherhisfingers.Themiddle
fingerandindexfingerweretwistedandfrozeninahalfbentposition.
“Its from years working on a fishing boat and handling the nets. Over time it messed my fingers up,”
GudtorsaidandSashadidn'tpickupthathewaslookingforanykindofsympathy,onlystatingafact.
“DidyouworkwithJonasontheboats?”Sashaasked.
“Idid.Everysummerformostofhisteenageyearsandthroughhistwentiesuntilhelefttown,”hesaid
staringoutatthesnow,heturnedbackandlookedatSashaandsaid,“Icouldtellyoumanyataleabout
youngJonas.”
“I’dlovetohearthemoverdinner,”Sashasaidandgavehimasmile.IfIcontinuetosmilemaybeIcan
hidehowworriedIaminsideshethought.
“Youdon'thavetofakeitwithme,”Gudtorsaid.
DamntheseIcelandicfolksareperceptiveandbluntSashathought.
“I’vebeenaroundenoughworriedfamilymembersoffishermentoknowwhatyouaregoingthrough.The
uncertaintyishard.ThisiswhenweIcelanderspulltogether,drawclosetoeachotherforcomfortuntil
theshipsreturnhome.IcantellyouJonasisonehellofacaptainandanexperiencedseafarerandRafn,
haveyoumeethim?”Gudtorasked.
Sashanoddedherhead.
“Wellthenyou’veseenthesizeofthatboy,astormwontgetthebetterofRafnIcantellyou.Thatmanisa
survivor if ever there was one. I just know those two will be back before daybreak. They are like
brothersandnothingwillkeepthemapart.”
“Thanksforthat,”Sashareplied.
“I mean it. We all pull together thats how we get through the dark times. You are one of us now, every
personintownhasgonethroughwhatyouaregoingthroughthisminute.IthinkJonaswantedyoutoknow
thatyouarenotalone,”Gudtorsaid.
“Thankyou,”Sashareplied.
Gudtorsmiledatherwithhiswidegaptoothedgrin.“Ihopeyouarehungry,mywifehasabigspread
readyforus.Ourhouseisatburstingpointwithalltheholidayfoodathand.Areyougoingtogobackto
AmericaforChristmas?”
“IthinkI’mgoingtospendithereandstaythroughuntilthefirstweekinthenewyear.”
“I’veseenthatlookbefore,youhavefallenforIcelandamIright?”Gudtoraskedinhissoftliltingvoice.
“I have. I’ve never been somewhere like this before, I don't know what it is but it already feels like
home.”
“Icelandhasthateffectonpeople,itcriesouttobereckonedwith,thelandscape,thepeople,thesnow.It
hasapowerfulcrythatcallsouttoalotofpeopletoliveontheselands.MywifeisfromGermany.Isaw
asimilarlookonherfacewhenshefirstseteyesonthefjordsoverfortyyearsago.”
“Andyouhavelivedherethewholetime?”Sashaasked.
“Wehave.WeusedtospendafewmonthsayearinGermanysomywifecouldbewithfamily.Aswegot
olderthosetripsbecamelessoften.Wegottoapointwhenwehadtodecideifwewantedtoliveour
retirementyearsinGermanyorouthereinthewestfjords.,”Gudtorsaid.
“Wasitabigdecision?”
“Ithoughtitwasgoingtobe.InmyheartIthoughtthatmywifewasgoingtochooseGermanyfirst,even
thoughshespentmostofherlifelivinghere.Iwasafraidthatherhomelandwouldhavetoostrongapull
forher.Itwasn'ttobeso,Icelandhadherheart.”
“Andyoutoo,”Sashasaid.ShewasfeelingrelaxedinGudtor’scompany,heexudedarelaxedcharmand
shecouldseethatinhisyoungerdayshemustofbeenaveryhandsomeman.
“IthinkImightofhadasmallamounttodowithherultimatechoice,”hesaidandchuckled.Hetookthe
handbrakeoffandsaid,“Webettergetgoing.Hannawillbewaitingforusandmaybeevenworryingas
shedoeswheneverthereisastorm.Doyouneedanythingbackinthecabin?”
“I’mreadytogo,”Sashasaid.
Thelightsofthecarmovedacrossthefieldsinfrontofthecabinandthechunkofdriftwoodwasbathed
inthepaleyellowlightforasecondasthecarmadeaturnandthenreturnedtothemaincoastroad.The
headlights illuminated a swirling world of an infinity of snowflakes blowing in from the sea. The road
was covered in a scrim of fresh snow and Gudtor leaned forward in his seat as he drove. They drove
around the curved road and Jonas’s cabin disappeared from view. Up ahead the town of Isafjordur
glitteredlikeastringofgemsfloatingabovegreychurningwaves.
SteamrosefromthedampmaterialofSasha'strousersandthesidewindowfoggedup.Sherubbedatit
withherballedupfistandlookedoutattheoilblackwaterthatwasonlymetersawayfromthesideof
the road. Reflections of stars jumped and rippled on the surface and Sasha stared off in the distance
hopingtoseethelightsofareturningboat.
“AnightlikethisyouneedsomegoodIcelandiclambsoup.Itcancureanythingthatailsyou,”Gudtorsaid
as he fiddled with the heating controls of the car. He muttered a few words in Icelandic and then said,
“Sorrythisoldjunkerisclosetobeingonherlastrun,Ican’tgetmuchmoreheatoutofher.”
“I’mok,”Sashareplied.Shewascoldbutitwasatafaroffdistanceasifshewaswitnessingherbody
begintochillwithoutfeelingthesensation.“Soupsoundsgood,”shesaidinamonotoneandsherealised
shewasclosetotears.
Gudtor must of sensed the swelling of emotions in the steamy interior of the car, he gave her a quick
glanceandthenfocusedhisattentionontheswirlingsnowstormandthebarelyvisiblestretchofblack
road. “I know you are hurting right now. We people of Isafjordur have been through every kind of
catastrophethatnaturecanthrowatus.Westandtogetherandwestandstrongagainstitandyouarenow
oneofusandcanabsorbourstrength.I’veknownJonasforalongtime,thatmanwouldfreezethevery
oceansandcrossthemonhisbarefeettogetbacktoyou.”
Gudtor'swordswerelikeawarmbreezemovingacrosshericecoldlimbs.Itwaslikeshewashearinga
decreefromanancientgodthatwashowsteadyandpowerfulhisvoicehadbeen.“Thankyou.Ineededto
hearthat.Allofthisissonewtome.Idon'tthinkIcouldevergetusedtoit,”sherepliedandtrailedoff.
“You are one of us now. And with that you will have the same inner strength that beats in the heart of
everymanandwomaninIcelandandespeciallyintheoneswhochoosetoliveintheharshfjords.Weare
allinthistogether.”
“HowdidyouknowaboutmeandJonas?”Sashaasked.
Gudtorflashedheranotheroneofhisgaptoothedsmilesandwhenhedidhiseyesglitteredlikefreshly
fallensnow.“Weareasmalltown.Everyoneknowseveryoneandwhenoneofthemfallsinlovewithan
outsidernewscantravelfasterthanthestormthatsblowingoutside.”
Theytookasideroadthatleaduptoasmallwoodenhousewhoseroofwascoveredintwinklinglights.
Thehousesatonahillthatlookedoutacrossthefjordandwasdirectlyoppositetothesmallairportthat
Sashahadfirstarrivedatwhenthestormhadgroundedherplane.
InsidethehousewaspackedwithalifetimeofpicturesandthekindofantiqueScandinavianfurniturethat
wasinfashioninsomeofthehipperareasofSanFrancisco.HannagreetedSashalikeanoldfriendand
theyallsataroundthetableandenjoyedsteaminghotbowlsoflambstew.Sashafilledthecoupleinon
herlifesofarandtheelderlycouplelistenedwithgreatinterest.Itwasgoodtobetalkingandforawhile
ittookSasha’smindoffJonasandtherescuemission.
AfterdinnerHannastartedtoclearupandrefusedallhelpfromSashaandshewasgivenstrictordersto
relaxwhilecoffeewasprepared.
“HowmuchcoffeedoyouIcelandersdrink?”SashaaskedGudtor.
“Morethanisgoodforus.Itstheonlythingthatkeepsusgoinginthelongdarkwinters,”hereplied.
Hannacarriedinatraywithapotoffreshbrewedcoffeeandaselectionoficedpastriesasbigasaplate.
TherichsmellofthestrongdarkcoffeethattheIcelandersfavouredfilledtheroomasHannapouredit
outintothreelargemugs.SheplacedaplatewithapinkicedpastryinfrontofSashaandthensatdown
acrossfromherhusband.Sashaeyedthemonstrouscakeandeveninthesedarktimesshecouldn'thelp
butsmileatitssize.
“Inenglishwecallthemelephantsfeet,”Gudtorsaidashetookabitefromhis,“agoodcupofcoffeeand
oneofthesecangetyouthroughallsortsofhardships.”
Sashapattedherstomach.“Ithoughtthatwasthejobofthelambstew.”
“An Icelander never turns down an opportunity for something sweet, as a nation we have a notorious
sweettooth,”hesaidashetookanotherlargebite.
Sashastartedinonherpastryandrelaxedbackinherseat.Sheneededthis,tobearoundotherpeopleand
GudtorsandHannaswarmthtoherduringtheeveninghadhelpedthetimepassbyeasierthanifshewas
onherownandbrooding.
“Thank you again for this. If I am going to be honest this kind of hospitality does not happen to me too
much.ThingsaredifferentinSanFrancisco,”Sashareplied.
GudtorandHannaglancedateachotherandgaveeachotherknowingsmiles.
“Ifeelsodisconnectedfrompeoplebackhomeeventhoughyoucantgetawayfromthem.Icouldn'teven
tellyoumyneighboursnameorwholivesintheapartmentaboveme.Wepasseachotherinthehallways
andthemostwegiveeachotherisanod.Everyoneissobusyallthetimeandmyworkwassoimportant
tome,theonlythingimportanttome.NowIdon’tknowanymore,”Sashasaidandpickeduphermugof
coffeeandcuppedherhandsaroundit.
“IwaslikeyouwhenIwasyounger,”Hannasaid,“Ilovedthecityandworkwaseverythingtome.ThenI
meet Gudtor and came to Isafjordur for the first time. To say it was life changing, well,” she said and
sweptherhandaroundthecozyroomtheysatin.Thewallswerecrammedwithpicturesoffriendsand
family and scenes of life in the fjord. Black and white pictures that looked to be a hundred years old
showed couples in traditional dress and beside them were pictures in pin sharp colour of Gudtor and
Hannastandingbesideanoldfashionedcarthatstoodoutsideabakery.Everywhereyoulookedyoucould
jumpbetweendecades,evencenturiesandseethehistoryofthetownunfoldingbeforeyou.Theclothes
changedandmorehousessprunguponthespitoflandthatjuttedoutintothefjordbutonethingstayed
thesameinthepictures,theconnectionofthepeople.
“Iwantthis,Icantgothroughlifeanymorejustskimmingacrossthesurface,”Sashasaidandshecould
feelherselfclosetotears.
HannareachedacrosstoSashaandtookherhand.“Youwillgetit.InthepastIhavesatherejustlikeyou
waitingformyhusbandtoreturnfromthesea.Lifeinthefjordscanbehardthereisnodoubtofthat.But
ifyouaskedmeifitisworthit,totaketheplungeandleaveyourhomecountrythenallIcansayisyou
mustlistentoyourheart.IdidalmostfiftyyearsagoandIhaveneveronceregrettedit.”
“ThankyouHanna,youandyourhusbandhavebeen..”Sashawascutoffbytheloudelectronicsquawkof
theradiointhecorneroftheroom.Herheartbeatspedupatthesoundandallofasuddenhermouthwas
asdryasasandybeach.GudtorgotupfromhisseatandsaidafewwordsinIcelandictoHanna.
“ThatwillbetheJonas’sboat.Wearetunedtohisfrequency,”HannasaidandsqueezedSasha'shand.
GudtorpressedabuttononthebaseofthedeskmountedmicandsaidafewrapidwordsinIcelandicand
thentwistedafewofthedialsonthereceiver.Thesystemcrackledagainandfaintwordscouldbeheard
underastormofstatic.Gudtorspokeagainandthesameblastofstaticcamethrough.
“I’mtryingtoboostthesignal,”hesaidasheconnectedanotherwiretothebackoftheradioreceiver.
“Its coming from Jonas’s boat. He has hit some trouble and the engines and power system has been
damaged.” Gudtor tried again and one final garbled message came through with the voice so faint that
Sasha could only hear a whisper from her side of the room. “He says he is on his way back and they
shouldlimpintotheharbourinthenexthour.”
Sasha burst from her seat and crossed the room in two steps and then threw her arms around Gudtors
neck. “Did he say anything else, how is Rafn, what happened to the boat?” she said in a stream of fast
pacedwordsthattrippedovereachother.
“Thesignalwasveryweak.I’mnotevensureifitwasJonasspeakingontheradio,”Gudtorsaidandthen
recoiledwithwhathehadsaid.
HannaraisedhervoiceandsaidafewsharpwordsinIcelandictoherhusbandwhileSashawalkedasif
inadreamandthenslumpedbackinherchair.ShehadneverconsideredthatJonasmightnotofmadethe
call,thathecouldofgothurtinhisrescueofhisfriend.Tearswelledupandthenrolleddownhercheeks
ashershouldersbegantoshake.
“Lookwhatyouhavedonenow,”HannasaidandcameovertoSashaandrubbedhershoulders.“Don't
mind my husband. All Icelandic men are like him, blunt in the extreme. They don't always think before
theyspeak.”
Gudtorgotupfromhisseatandcameoverandanguishlinedhisface.“I’msorrySasha.Ididnotmeanto
putideasinyourhead.ThesignalwasfaintbutI’msureitwasJonaswhowasontheotherend.Don't
mindmeI’mjustafoolisholdman.”
Sashareachedoutandtookhishand.“It’sok.Youtwohavebeenperfecthosts.Itstheuncertaintyofitall,
Idon'tknowifIcanbeasstrongasyoulocals.”
“We will be strong for you,” Hanna said giving Sasha a warm smile that reminded her of her beloved
grandmother.
Gudtorgrabbedhiscarkeysfromaceramicbowlshapedlikeafishandsaid,“Thereisnousehanging
aroundhere.I’lltakeyoudowntotheharbourandwecanwatchtheboatcomein.”
ChapterThirteen
SashaandGudtorheadedbackoutintotheblowingsnowandHannastayedbehindtokeepcheckingthe
radio.Theroadbackintotownhadnotbeenploughedyetandtherearendofthecarswungaboutuntil
thesnowtiresfoundagripandtheyrightedthemselves.Gudtorglancedintherearviewmirrorandsaid
“Lookattheroadoutofthefjord.”
Sasha peered back through the rear window and through the blowing snow she could make out three
flashingyellowlightshighuponthemountainroadattheendofthefjord.
“It’sthesnowplough.Hestartsupatthetunnelthatleadstothenexttownandthenmakeshiswaydown
here. He should have the road cleared within an hour. For now it will be down to my superior driving
skill to get us through this storm.” He winked and then hunched forward in his seat with a look of
concentration.
He’senjoyingthisSashathought.Shecouldseetheshadowoftheyoungmaninthewrinkledbrowand
sagging chin of his seventy plus years. I’d say you were a bit of a daredevil back in your day Sasha
thoughtasshewatchedtheswirlingsnowilluminatedbythecarheadlights.Theyweretheonlycarson
theroadandthisonlyaddedtothefeelingthattheywereinagiantsnowglobethathadbeenshookup
vigorously. The wind shifted and Sasha caught a glimpse of the string of low slung lights that was the
townofIsafjordur.Fromadistanceitalmostlookedlikethetownwasfloatingatopthecrashingwhite
tippedwaves.
They drove through town and then passed by the rows of fish processing plants until they got to the
harbour.Gudtorstoppedthecaroutsideawoodenhutthathadviewsoutintothewideopenentranceto
the fjord. When Sasha opened the door of the car a strong blast of wind pulled it from her grip and it
slammedopenwithabang.Snowswirledintothecarastheclamberedout.Thesoftgracefulflakesof
snow that had fallen earlier were now turned in to a countless barrage of icy pinpricks as they blasted
Sasha'sface.Gudtorsaidsomethingtoherbutthewindwassostrongthatshecouldnothearhimoverthe
din.Hewavedhertowardsthecabinandhestoopeddownandgrabbedakeyfromunderthemat.
“Thatwasrefreshing,”Gudtorsaidasheclosedthedoorbehindhim.
“I’veneverbeeninasnowstormlikethatbefore,”Sashareplied.
The hut was big enough to house a small table and seating for two and in the corner was an area for
brewingcoffee.Largeposterswithillustrationsoffishspecieshungonthewallsaswellasyellowedand
peelingdiagramsaboutsafetyaroundtheharbourloadingarea.Sashatookaseatatthetableatthelarge
windowthatfacedoutintothefjord.Gudtorflickedaswitchonthewallandtwospotlightsoutsidecame
on.“He’llbeabletoseethelightwhenhesailsintothefjord.Itcanliftamansspiritsanddrivehimon
whenhecanseethelightsofhome.Trythese,”GudtorsaidhandingSashaapairofbinocularsthathad
beenonashelfabovethecoffeestation.
Sashascannedthechurningseaforanyspeckoflightandallshecouldseewastheswirlingwhitenessof
thesnowstorm.Sheputthemdownandtoldherselfitwasbestnottokeepchecking.Inlessthenafew
secondsshehadthebinocularsinherhandsagainandshewasstrainingtoseeanysignofJonas’sreturn.
“VisibilityshouldimprovesoonIcantellthestormisabouttocalmdown,”Gudtorsaidashefilledtwo
plasticcupswithcoffee.
Sashalookedoutthewindowandthestormlookedlikeitwasblowingstrongerthanitwaswhentheygot
outofthecar.ShesuspectedGudtorwasdoinghisbesttotrytokeephercalm.“Howcanyoutell,tomy
eyesitlookslikeitsgettingworse.”
“Thewindhaschangeddirection,itsblowinginfromacrossthemountains.Thatsusuallyasignthatthe
stormisabouttotakeabreak.Takealookwiththebinocularstothemountainsonyourright.Canyousee
theblackshapesclusteredtogether?”
Sashascannedthesteepsidedmountainsthatwerethewallsofthefjordandthroughtheblowingsnow
shecouldmakeoutthreehugeboulderssittingonthelipofthemountain.“Icanseethemthroughgapsin
thestorm.”
“Intheolddaysitwasthoughtthattheyweretrollsthatcontrolledtheweatherinthefjord.Whenthewind
blewinfromthedirectionofthebouldersitwassaidthatitwasthetrollswhoblewthestormsawayand
protectedthepeopleofthefjord.Inenglishitwouldtranslateasatrollwindisblowing,ithasamore
poeticedgetoitintheoriginalIcelandic,”Gudtorsaid.
SasharememberedJonassayinghernamewithhisIcelandicaccentanditmadeherheartspeedup.There
wasaflowinglyricalwaythathespokethatremindedherofthemorningsongofbirds.Shesuspectedthat
mostthingssoundedmorepoeticinthisstrangeandforeignlanguage.
Gudtorbroughtthemcoffeeandtheybothsatandwatchedthegustingstormoutside.Withinafewminutes
onefinaliceblastbatteredthehutandthenstillness.Sashagrabbedthebinocularsandscannedtheseaat
themouthofthefjord.Atinyspeckoforangelightflashedonandoff.Hermouthwentdryandherhands
begantoshake.Gudtortookthebinocularsfromherandlookedouttosea.“Thatshim.He'stheonlyboat
outtheretonight.Itlookslikeheisatquarterspeed,itshouldn'ttakelongforhimtogettothesafetyofthe
harbour.”
SashawipedtearsawayfromthecornerofhereyesandshereachedacrossthetableforGudtorshand.
“Thankyoufortonight.”Shesqueezedhishandinhers,sheneededthecontacttostophersfromshaking.
As the boat drew near Sasha got her first proper look at it. Gudtor flashed the flood lights out on the
harbourandthenafigurewentoutontotheapproachingboatsdeck.Withtwoarmsraiseditwavedback
intheirdirection.Sashagasped.WasthatRafnstandingonthedeckandnotJonas.Allshecouldmakeout
was the bulk of his silhouette. Her hands began to shake again. What did this mean if Jonas was not
pilotingtheboat?Shetrainedthebinocularsonthesmalllightedwheelhouseanditlookedempty.
“Idon'tthinkthatisJonas,”shesaidpassingthebinocularstoGudtor.Hermindfilledofchillingimages
ofJonaspullingRafnfromicywatersonlyforhimtosuccumbtotheicygripofthedeadlywaters.No
don'tletitbesoshethoughtasfreshtearsrolleddownhercheeks.
“Icantmakeoutwhoitis,”Gudtorsaid.Agustofwindwhippedacrosstheopenharbourandthenthe
viewwasblockedbyahugeflurryofsnow.GudtormutteredafewangrywordsinIcelandicthatcould
onlybeastringofcurses.“Thetrollsdidn'tholdoffthestormfortoolong.Ididn'tgettoseewhoitwas
beforethewallofsnowblockedmyview.”
Thestormwasbackandmoreforcefulthanbefore.Outsidethecabinthevisibilitywasreducedtoonlya
coupleoffeet.Thecabincreakedaroundthemandtheoverheadlightflickeredforacoupleofseconds.
“Howlonguntiltheygetbacktosafety?”Sashaaskedasshestaredthroughthebinocularsinanattemptto
seethroughtheblizzardragingoutside.
“Atthespeedtheyaregoing,Ithinkthey’lllimpintotheharbourintwentyminutesorso.Thewindisat
theirbacksothatwillhelpthemalittle.”
Sashaputthebinocularsdownandhadtofoldherarmsbecauseherhandswereshakingsomuch.Itwas
Jonasyousawontheboatithadtobeshethoughttoherself,don’tletthehorriblethoughtscreepin.She
triedbutcouldn'thelpit.ImagesofJonasfacedownandfloatinginthestormwhippedseabombardedher
and every bad scenario flickered through her mind as if she was flicking through a picture book of
horrors.
Shestaredoutatthemillionsofsnowflakesandtriedtofixateontheswirlingpatterns,anythingtokeep
her mind off how scared she was. Lights flickered amidst the falling snow and Sasha turned to Gudtor.
“Didyouseethat?”
Gudtor looked straight ahead and then looked with the binoculars. He put them down and a big smile
spreadacrosshisface.“Itsthem.Theyareonlyaboutaminuteortwoaway.Wecanwaithereuntilthey
dock.”
Sashawasalreadyuponherfeetandclosinguphercoat.“Iwanttobeonthedockwhenhegetshere.”
Thatsifitishimwhosurvived,acruelandscaredpartofherminddeclared.
Gudtorcouldseethattherewouldbenodissuadingherotherwiseandtheyheadedoutintotheblizzard.
ThewindsmackedintoSashaassheroundedthecornerofthehutandshehadtograboutforthewallto
stop her feet from shooting out from under her. The wind whistled at a high pitch like the screams of a
dyinganimalasGudtorhookedhisarmaroundherwaisttogiveherbalance.“Thankyou,”sheshouted
andtheoldmannodded.Theyleantintothestormandarminarmmadetheirwaytothebarrieratthe
edgeofthedock.
GudtorpointedofftotherightandSashacouldmakeoutapairoflightsflashingoutatsea.“Thatshim
now,” he said leaning in close to her ear and shouting above the howling wind. Sasha fixated on the
blinkinglightsandwatchedastheshapeoftheboatbecamevisiblethroughthestorm.Heisalive,heis
alivesherepeatedinherhead.
Theboatwasafewminutesfromthedockandstillonlyvisibleasafaintshapewithintheswirlingwhite
stormwhenthewinddroppedandforafewsecondsSashacouldseeaclearviewoftheboat.Herchest
tightened,shecouldseehiminthewheelhousesteeringtheboat.Jonaswasalive.“ItsJonas,he'sok,”she
shoutedandhuggedGudtorinpurejoy.
He held her tight in his arms and over the screech of the wind said, “I told you Jonas is one hell of a
sailor.Astormlikethisisnothingtoamanofhiscapabilities.”
Sashacouldn'thelpherselfandleanedinandkissedtheoldmanonhischeek.Gudtorlookedawayand
shecouldseethathischeekshadgoneadeepcrimson.
Thewindbegantodiedownastheboatsloweditsapproachtothedock.Theworstoftheblizzardwas
overandlargefluffysnowflakesseesawedthroughtheair.Sashagotherfirstclearlookattheboatand
thewheelhouse.ThelightflickeredaboveJonas’sheadandshecouldseethathewasaloneandthathis
expression was as hard as stone. He raised his hand and acknowledged them as he drew up beside the
dock.SashawasclosetotearsandsheturnedtoGudtorandcouldseeasparklingsheentohiseyes.
TheboatcametoastopandJonascameoutondeck,hiseyeswererimmedwithdarkshadowsandhe
wentthroughthemotionsoftyingofftheboatwithoutlookinginSasha'sdirection.Hesteppedashoreand
trudgedstraightpastthembothandwalkeduptothewoodenhut.
ThefirstblowshockedSashaasJonaspunchedthewoodenwallofthehutwithtremendousforce.The
hut shook on its foundations. Jonas rained down punches on the wall and let out a howl of pain as he
continuedinafrenzy.Sashatriedtocallouttohimandhermouthwouldnotmakeasound.Shestaredat
hisfistshittingthewallsandwatchedasslickpatchesofbloodformedattheimpactzones.Sherantohis
sideandputherhandonhisshoulder.Jonasspunaroundwithhisfistsraisedandhelookedatherlikehe
wasseeingherforthefirsttime.“He’sgone.TherewasnothingIcoulddoforhim,”hesaid.Helookedat
hisbleedingknucklesasiftheywerenotattachedtohim.“Iwastoolate.”AllfightlefthimandSasha
couldseenothingbutpainandmiseryinhiseyesasshewrappedherarmsaroundhimandpulledhimin
close.
Sheheldhimtighttryingtoabsorbasmuchofhispainaspossibleandtryingtoimaginetheturmoilthat
mustbegoingoninsidethemansheloved.Hehadlostafriend,hehadlostabrother.Ihavetobestrong
forhimnowSashathoughtasshetriedtofightbacktears.“ComeoninsideandI’llcleanupyourhands.”
Sheneededtobedoingsomething,anythingtototakehermindoffallthatwashappening.
InsidethehutJonassatinachairwithhisbacktothewindowandSasharealisedwithacoldchilldown
herspinethatRafnmustbeontheboat.Bestrongforyourmanshetoldherselfasshegotthefirstaidbox
and checked its contents. She cleaned the wounds on his knuckles and as she taped on a bandage blue
lightswashedupthesideofthewallsofthecabin.Jonascontinuedtostareatthewallastheintensityof
theflashinglightsgrew.
“I’llgooutsideanddealwiththem,”Gudtorsaid.
Jonas rose from the chair and Sasha reached out and touched his hand. “You don't have to be here for
this.”
“Ihavetoseethistotheend,”hesaidandleftthecabinwithGudtor.
Sashasatlookingoutthewindowastheambulancepulledupinfrontofthedock.Twomeninorangehigh
visibilityjacketsgotoutandGudtorspoketothem.Jonasstoodtherestaringathisboatandheanswered
questionsfromtheparamedicswithanodofhishead.Lighttwinkledonthemetalframeofthestretcher
as they carried it to the boat. Tears began to fall from her eyes. I cant look at this she thought and she
lookedawayastheyboardedtheboat.
ShesataloneinthecabinweepingforRafnandforthetheheartwrenchingpainthatJonasmustbegoing
through.
Thatnightastheylayinbedtogethersheheldhiminherarmsandteasedhishairbetweenherfingers.At
firsthewasstiffandrigidinherarms,allofhismusclestensedlikehewasabouttoboltfromthebed.
WhenhefinallyletgoSashawasreadytoholdhimeventighteranddoherbesttogethimthroughthe
night.Theystayedwrappedaroundeachotherallnightaspainandsorrowbuffetedthemunlikeanystorm
Sashahadeverwitnessed.
Epilogue
OneYearLater
InthemiddleofthelongIcelandicsummersthesunneversetandthedarknessoftheeternalwinterswere
adistantmemorytoeveryone.Sashastoodonthedeckofaboatasitskimmedacrosstheglassysurface
oftheseainaplaceknownasangelfjord.WinterhadbeenhardforherandJonasandduringthedarkest
monthsithadfeltlikeneitherofthemcouldfreethemselvesfromtheconstraintsofgrief.Whenthesun
hadfinallyclippedabovethetoweringmountainsofthefjordinearlyMarchtheworstofthepainwas
behind them. The initial rawness was gone and for Jonas it was now replaced with a numbness that he
wouldneverseeRafnagain.ThecomingofthefirstraysofsuninMarchalsobroughtsomethingelseto
themboth,hopeandanewlifetogether.Theyhadalovethathadbeenforgedandstrengthenedinoneof
theworstmomentsforanybodytogothroughandtheyhadmanagedtogetthroughitwiththeirfeelingsfor
eachotherdeepenedandtempered.
“Areyounervous?”
ThequestionssnappedSashaoutofherdeepthoughtsandsheturnedtoherthreegrinningfriendswhohad
madethejourneyfromSanFranciscoforherspecialday.I’vebeenthroughtoomuchtobenervousabout
todayshethought.
“I’mhappyandmoreexcitedthanIhaveeverbeeninmylife.”Sashasaidbeamingbackatherfriends.
Theboatpassedbyarockyoutcropandforthefirsttimethefulllengthofthefjordwasexposedtoallon
the boat. Sasha gripped the hand rail as she looked at the small farm off in the distance. It had been in
Jonas’s family for over a hundred years and had been passed down to him over a decade ago. He had
neverdoneanythingwithitandithadbeenlyingemptyforyears.Thefarmsatattheendofthefjordona
huge patch of land that included miles of its own sandy beaches, a glacial river flowing down the
mountainsideandintheautumnwildberriedgrewinhugepatchesundertheshadeofthemountains.Sasha
hadfalleninlovewithitthefirsttimeshesetfootonthebeach.Thefarmwasonlyaccessiblebyboat
fromthenearesttownandwhenSashafirstsawitsheknewthisiswhereshewantedtogetmarriedand
thenstarthernewlifewithJonasastheyrebuiltthefarmhousetogether.
Thelastyearshehadbeeninafrenzyassheorganisedherbusinesssothatshecoulddomostofherwork
remotely. Weekly checkins from a quaint coffee shop in the sleepy town of Borgarfjordur was the only
timesheneededtoreconnectwiththeofficeinSanFrancisco.Onaregulardayshewouldbeabletotake
herlaptopandsitoutsidethefarmhousewithaviewoutintothefjordandcodeinpeacewiththesound
ofbirdssingingbeingheronlydistraction.
Sashacoveredhereyesasthesunsparkledofftheglasssmoothwaterandshelookedahead.Shecould
makeouttherowsoftableinthefieldbesidethehouseandshecouldseeagroupofpeoplewaitingon
the beach for her arrival. The whole day was going to be spent outdoors with her new friends from
Isafjordurandheroldfriendsfromthestates.Foodwouldbepreparedonarowofcharcoalbarbecues
andafirepithadbeensetupforlaterintheevening.Everythingaboutwhattheyhadorganisedforthe
day was completely Icelandic in nature, simple, honest and authentic with everything stripped down to
whatmatteredthemost.
AstheygotcloserSashaclosedhereyesandrockedgentlywiththemovementoftheboat.Shecounted
down from twenty and with each second passed the ball of excitement inside her grew until she was
engulfedinitswarmth.Whensheopenedhereyesagaintheboatwasslowingdownasitdrewupbeside
theshortwoodendock.
Jonas was standing on the beach looking at her and when their eyes locked Sasha's heart swelled with
emotion. He was wearing a traditional Icelandic suit with a high necked collar and simple lines that
complementedSasha'straditionalvikingstyledressineggshellwhitewithintricateembroideryacross
hershoulders.
Whenshewasayounggirlandshehadfantasisedaboutbeingsweptupintothestrongarmsofavikingit
was nothing like the scene before her. What she was now seeing was real and better than any childish
dreamsheoncehad.Shewavedtothepeoplegatheredonthebeachandawarmcheerwentupfromthe
crowdoffamiliarfaces.SashacouldalreadyseetheglintofatearinGudtorseyesasheheldhiswife
tightagainsthim.
Thisbeautifullandiswheremyfuturewillunfold,theseamazingpeoplewillbemynewfamilyandJonas
is the man of my dreams Sasha thought as she stepped from the boat and on to the dock. Sasha walked
along the dock towards her new life in Iceland as the summer sun shone bright and sure in the blue
expanseabove.
Muchhappensthatoneexpectstheleast.[Grettis]
-Verðrþatervariroksváhittereigivarir.
IcelandicProverb
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