Under 25 iron infused shirts

Once upon a time and – she dreamed.

The tiny girl is hiding in the corner of the over-packed veranda at the back of the grandparents’ house; she is always alert to feel when someone might approach, so she can secretly read the fairy-tale about Vietnamese dragons and the prince from the ancient city Hội An.

Have you ever read the book with the highly alert body while standing on your fingertips? Give it a try!

The cover of the book is infused with the refreshingly green stripes and the red stain on the top left corner to bring its story to the life, when clumsy fingers flip through the pages she can feel the dew from the tree leaves as the prince cuts its path through the forest.

This dark corner in the veranda was her hiding and mystery filled place; in here, she was allowed to dream that one day she will be this mighty, powerful dragon with the wide, strong wings shining like the Northern Lights and that she will climb up to the attic and jump out from the window to let the wind caresses her skin, forehead, and cheeks.

She was craving for the sun to embrace her back and for the first time – to become free; free to fly over the seas, admire forests, islands and she would have enough strength to go beyond the horizon.

Once upon a time and she imagined – how would it be to become someone else? How would it be – to live in the beautiful white house; to have loving parents, someone caring and not just domestic fights; to understand the word love and to become a part of the picture where she could belong!

She was eager to understand the secret formula for the world and to become as the rest of the “normal” people, but at that time – she had no clue what exactly the term “normal” stands for and – she still haven’t figured it out!

A thousand different pictures burst in her mind simultaneously – what she could do and where she could go, but the only concern is: the time; with the childlike energy or plain dreams are not enough to live through all of the scenarios in one single life.

The mind has never been only in one place for her; powerful, disturbingly colorful thoughts rushed through her existence and jumped around when she tried to stay still, it created a motion like from the old movie scenes with the missing parts flipping through the iron circle.

Have you ever asked yourself, “How would it be to become someone else?”

To live in the Big City somewhere in New York or to be part of the tribe and live with the Indians, or to breath in the fresh air of Alaskan mountains and step on the glazier; how could it feel to go up in the space and see this world as something so small and unique, or to know how feels a famous ballerina in Russia, or powerful politician standing in front of the whole country, or maybe – as a warrior with his sword high up in the sky?

Could this child ever become a captain of the ship while sailing through the waves? Or maybe a farmer who waits patiently when the time comes to saw the harvest, or perhaps a doctor with the skills to cure and save other’s lives? Could she ever discover how it is to be a writer who fills up the emptiness with the imaginary patterns and lines connecting them into the complete pictures?

So, one fine evening she sat down by the computer and typed, and typed, and typed – so energetic and fast like someone could hear her; she told her story, sorrows, and swords to the white paper pages leaving them behind with the scratched scars. From then on, it was just a story of someone who once lived.

The little girl talked to the scattered paper pieces and when the story was over, these pages were not needed anymore – she had learned to communicate with the surrounding world through the written letters and not the spoken words, this is her voice and roaring time to speak up, because shyness, guilt, and introvert character are stronger than her eagerness to be physically heard.

This is like a vicious inner circle – shyness takes over her world and keeps the control of the mind, body, emotions and spirit; she seeks and at the same time fears to be in the center of the attention as being “on the stage and under the spotlight” might transform in reversal and become the trigger for the disapproval, judgment or criticism. Secretly, she wants the attention but the inner sense of the self chooses the self-defense.

The social anxiety in the little child’s heart kept filling up alongside with the willingness to feel and explore the world but – fear still holds the reins. The inner screaming voice can take over one’s existence when injustice has been done; she craved for the truth and answers – why things are happening in their own special way.

When the deep, dark stubbornness is all that makes you move ahead – blaming the life becomes a big part of the game. Unfortunately, no one can fight against the time and it is hard to distinguish if you are dreaming while still sleeping in your bed or on the train with your eyes wide open and glancing through the window; but you always have the choice: to go to sleep in order to wake up in the morning or to search for the lucid awakening in the bed.

Once upon a time, and as you can imagine – the world woke her up and threw out from the bed, it smiled right in her face and said, “Stop daydreaming, get your ass up and start to work – if you want anything from your flawing imagination!”

“If we wish to know about a man, we ask ‘what is his story – his real, inmost story?’ – for each of us is a biography, a story. Each of us is a singular narrative, which is constructed, continually, unconsciously, by, through, and in us – through our perceptions, our feelings, our thoughts, our actions; and, not least, our discourse, our spoken narrations. Biologically, physiologically, we are not so different from each other; historically, as narratives – we are each of us unique,” Oliver Sacks.

We all have a story to tell and this is one of many. It might turn out as a fictional fairytale, or perhaps just a dream about the little girl who is fighting against the growing up, against the world’s darkest rules and games. The girl who lives to dream and fly as long as the time will allow her to connect the marble pieces together and to create a wonderful, colorful and light drawings – line after the line, peace after the peace and – one day – it might become complete.

“Once upon a time” … funny, but this is how I imagined starting the story every single time when I needed to re-tell what have happened to my family, why I keep my mouth shut when people are giving out or just talking about their parents and families. The first few times was so damn hard, that I had to withdraw my mind from the story itself as the natural reaction: anger, sadness, and disappointment would instantly take over my body.

It is sad, but definitely not the worst story to tell – the main difference is that it is mine and I wrapped it well under the shadows and hiding from the stinging reality.

The life in the small town and attending the local school with quite a lot of wealthy families around, made my brother and me stand out like some black swans, but to be more precise – half way orphans.

My brother Ricardo has always been so relaxed and easygoing personality, at least from the outside. I have never had enough energy, power, tricks and kicks to make him become truly upset; my big brother, as he likes to outline, despite to the fact that we have less than two years’ difference, he still acts like an old and wise man.

Unfortunately, I have never allowed him to enter in my world and I have always tried not to disturb his; in contrary to his calmness, I was a little devil-rebel in the heart but with the cute pretty face, curly beautiful hair and tiny, skinny body.

And, right now, I am not going to repeat the same, already mechanically scripted story what have happened so long time ago, because every time when I keep retelling it, for my ears it sounds like a bad, outworn-out poem, like something I had to study by heart in the school and make myself to believe that it is true, make myself to get further and further away from the fact that it is somehow related to my actual life – to my existence at all.

So, let me try to place this personal history under the different lens:

“Train from “Melluzi” to “Dubulti”

First caught sight and gentle, prohibit touch,

Desire and persistent fight to prove their rights to be,

To feel and love;

White dress, smile, deep strawberry kiss,

Fingers through the hair and caresses,

Caring memories caught by the photo camera;

Her uncovered skin, playful gaze, and elegance

Captured and developed only for him!

Then the first little miracle applied for the life,

A gift, a boy, healthy and strong,

Two summers later, another treasure in the looks of a baby girl,

A little angel with the curly, dark hair and cute cheeks;

Regaining the countries freedom,

Passion for the cars, for his own business,

Even though – it was not allowed.

On the second winter, there comes this trip, this damn trip!

Ride through the weather, wrapped by the cold-hearted people hands.

Is the money and business worth of this?

Snow, ice … a flash, dark people, slippery road, tree, and crash.

The sound of the car tires, broken glass, blood, silence!

Silence…

Silence that will never be restored to her,

She will view the world in the shape of the light.

No more memories, no more caresses or touches,

No more chance or ability to see both of their little miracles.

Two years’ old son and one-year-old daughter

Left in their grandmother’s house, left in the dark!

But he is not going to give up so easily,

He wants to fight, to live

White bed, scalpel, and day after the weeks, after the months and years,

He made a choice to come back to the earth from the timeless dream,

But he is not going to get up by himself anymore,

Never again!

He breathes, he eats, and talks, but – he is not going to live, he will exist,

Two little angels in the same train on the way to the school,

But no more hugs, love or fingers through the hair.

Did the feeling that made this little girl going further stay within?

Anger, revenge, and searching for the truth!

But the mother, she will always remain in this world,

In her – with the shape of the nose, curly hair, and sad looking eyes,

In him – with his sharp, beautiful chin, slim face, and stately body,

But for the others, she will remain in the divine light and shape of the butterfly!”

Going on and on with the simple few sentences about the facts of that bloody night and several possibilities of what actually happened with our parents – feels alien; I have to keep it distanced from my body and mind to maintain sanity.

But, if I would tell the people what I really think and believe, that – it was not an accident: would they ever care?

And if they would, then I should go deeper and deeper into the details of the past, to talk about the stories from my grandmother’s side, about the fact how they treated my father in the hospital, how his business went on with the license from Moscow that was expired two months before the car crash, or that for several years one of my father’s ex-friends kept ringing by our house’s fence to give my grandmother an envelope and didn’t even dare to set a foot inside the house to see his beloved “friend” and then – I should keep on going with the fact that my parents’ passports, which they carried all the time with them, appeared in our other house’s mailbox located in completely different town after couple of days. This is only a tiny glimpse of the events hidden under that cold, January night’s bloodstained shirt from the year of 1989.

Did the hard times of the country’s internal order, fighting against the Soviet Union and restricted freedom for one’s own business in Latvia justifies inhuman actions and dark plans for the sake of the money or respect? How can you dare to ruin so many people’s lives because of the money and invented power?

The reality is that I have no real, stone written truth what and why things happened, who is to be blamed and who is to be placed in front of the court to receive well-deserved hammer of the justice. For so many sleepless nights I have imagined how it would be to look in that person’s face, to see its eyes, shape of the chin, color, and structure of the body. I would like to learn this person’s outlook on the life and see if there has ever been any slightest grasp of humanity.

I crave to find the one who is responsible for that night and to be capable of doing exactly the same – to take its most important thing and leave it as half alive, not to take it away fully or sweep himself from the place of the earth, but to take only half and leave him seeing it every single day, every moment of awakening in the morning and before ending the day, to make him think and remember that things will never be restored and united, to make his existence miserable from the suffering and helplessness that there is nothing that he can do to make it better; that he can see the misery next to him but have his own arms tied up with the stinging, invisible ropes.

If you stab someone with the sword, after a while there will be only the scar left, but if you put the skin on the hook and leave it like that, hanging in the air – it will never heal until the moment when the actual hook has been taken out. The blood keeps circulating through the wounded skin and cells; through the iron – it keeps this injury alive, fresh, and open. Mine still pulsates even after more than 20 years.

This is the feeling from the awareness that my father is still alive, I can see him every single day, I can touch him, but he will never be as my father. He doesn’t know how I grew up; he cannot make a proper conversation or acknowledge who I really am to him. He cannot listen to my sorrows when someone breaks my heart or when I simply have a bad day, he cannot give me an advice or a hug and tell me that everything will be good, he cannot be thrilled and excited for me and together with me during my first, neither the last day of the school when I receive the diploma of recognition for the dedication and great results, he cannot be near to provide his support or give out and scream at me when I do silly mistakes, break things and come up with the stupid decisions; he cannot be here to say that I am wrong or tell me to – shut up and listen.

The power of the life played the game for him and decided to use the trap of the destiny. He exists and for the rest of his life he will be sleeping in the bed, to be taken care of, but maybe that was the destinies mercy – to leave him within the state of the mind like a child, not to let the realities pains to be realized every single day for 24 hours a day.

And I crawl into his bed to hid beneath his arm – to feel as a part of him and no matter what happens around in the world, in this one thin moment he is and at the same time is not my father.

“I have a dream that one day every valley shall be exalted, and every hill and mountain shall be made low, the rough places will be made plain, and the crooked places will be made straight; and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed and all flesh shall see it together,” Martin Luther King, Jr.

The ship is not just a pile of iron blocks and walls, sometimes it does feel like a massive cage, like a covering trap or a fake reality, but – every ship still persuades its own soul.

The atmosphere and the attitude that was immersed while the specific ship was built, has been stored and soaked in its walls and ceilings; the management team and the captain who is in charge during their allocated time, the assigned itinerary, visited/schedules ports – every smallest thing leaves its effect on the ship’s soul and how the people will feel while working here; the same as with the nature and human beings – there are no two exact the same, but at the same time – we are one.

During my previous two contracts, I have worked with so many Chief Accountants – adjusting to their “special” styles of keeping the control over the people, that I do not look at them with the same respect or reverence anymore – some are nice, some are control freaks and dictates their rules every five minutes, but – it looks that this time, we have pretty cool one.

My direct boss, Anurag, presents himself in a very nice way – he is from India and emits positivity and seems to be quite relaxed; amazing that the Chief Account (once for all!) stands for his team, instead of acknowledging that we need to adjust to each and every other departments’ needs; working in this environment it is a crucial aspect – to have the support from your own boss and the team.

After few conversations, I came to know that Anurag has worked in the shore side’s main office in Miami, but decided to return back to the ships, so he could visit his family more frequently and for longer time, because – only for the onboard employees the vacation is consecutive two months; the shore side office personnel have their typical two weeks’ vacation schedule.

Since the first moment when I came in the office, Anurag told me that the Safety Officer is extremely strong and before the actual safety question test, each crew and staff member needs to attend the additional training with him – it lasts from 3 till 4 hours; only then we will be allowed to complete the regular test.

My heart began to beat uncontrollably like rushing somewhere, “Am I nervous about the safety training? It is not logical, I already know more than it’s required!” I turned around and allowed my eyes to slide over the room.

There he is, familiar, but unknown.

Coming in and out from the crew bar, looking at all of the new sign on people that came for the training – he is wearing his rough and harsh attitude again. The white uniform on this perfect body is still pleasing for my eyes, but the way how he carries the atmosphere around him – draws this shadow straight into the ground.

“I know you, but do not remember where I have seen you before. I have definitely seen you somewhere – this way of walking and the arrogant posture; looking around, checking and scanning the people. You must have been thinking that everything is allowed for you in here, but you should get down to the earth and remove that arrogance from your face! Even the Captain would not suit this manner and attitude,” I thought to myself while looking at this drifting shadow trapped in the handsome man’s body.

“This is my third contract, but I have been moved around quite a lot and, technically, have been on 7 ships, so – this is my 8th now, so – how could I possibly remember when and on which ship I’ve seen you. Whatever, I am not interested in starting all that bushtit sleeping around again so, forget about it, my lovely lady.”

Since the first experience on the ships, I have enjoyed its technical side – I wanted to get to know and see everything, starting from the Bridge till the Engine Room; I like to see and understand how the things works; all the maneuvering and altering options, what to do in case of the emergency, how to drive the lifeboat, what to do if I am thrown in the raft somewhere in the sea – It intrigues me, so I do learn all the codes, phone numbers, master stations, essential emergency kit and so on; therefore, I am not concerned about the safety test – no matter how thought they can make it.

The only information, which always changes is - the phone numbers for the Bridge or special needs assistance and the actual layout of the assembly areas points for different class ships.

The Safety Officer is strict and that is how it should be, “the credit” from me to him for caring and doing his job as per the highest standards to ensure that all new sign on crew attends this meeting and enforces us to go through all the general safety topics; he loves to pick on us with a lot of questions and he is the only officer that physically takes all of us around the ship to show where is located each and every master station, how to use “talk box”, what should be in the emergency boxes, where and how are divided the life rafts and lifeboats – all of this information is for our own sake and safety.

During the next day, after the safety training and induction lectures, the actual test to be passed; the same room, the same new sign on crew members fills up space.

I took a seat right in front of the entrance, completed all the answers in less than 10 minutes and were the second one to get up from the chair to approach the Safety Officer who is in charge of reviewing the results – he should give me additional explanations for the other topics, but instead of talking to me – he orders me to go around the corner and sit down by the first table where is one of his Deck Officers.

Instantly obeying to his request, I kept moving, but – after crossing the room the uncomfortable surprise takes me over – the same arrogant guy from yesterday is the one to be approached!

“Fine, let it be! What the heck is going on with my heart? You can be as handsome as you want, I still know all the answers that I have to know, so – let’s see from what you are made off!” I thought while heading closer to him; finally reaching the table, I sat down and carelessly said, “Hi, I am done with the test. Here are my answers and my emergency card.”

“Hello, how are you?” Giuseppe replied in quite welcoming manner.

“Good, thank you.”

“Ok, let’s see. Hmm! Good, it looks that you did your homework and you are prepared, all below answers are correct. But, tell me, where exactly is located your lifeboat and what are your duties in case of emergency?” He asked.

“My lifeboat is located on the deck 3 starboard side mid-ship. I am the supervisor of the master station C and in case of the emergency I have to pick up my radio from the Guest Services office with the list of all other staff and crew members assigned to my master station and divide the duties amongst them, so we can keep the control and arrange all the guests in my area in one single fire line; each line in front of the another one and if the final signal from the ship’s whistle or PA system has been release or based on the Captains announcement, I have to lead all guests in our assigned lifeboats,” I answered without any grasp of the doubts.

“Good. Do you know that I remember you from your first contract?” Giuseppe asked keeping tensed eye contact to see my reaction.

“Excuse me? In my first contract I was on three different ships; therefore – it is quite challenging to remember all the people that I have met at that time,” I felt a hot wave rushing through my skin from the feet all the way up to the cheeks and staying there making me blush like a school kid. The way he looked at me, like scanning through and looking for something – his eyes filled with the deep, persistent attention, like expecting for some specific reaction or an answer.

“I remember, though; it was also my first contract – we were at the same time on the ship called ‘Paradise’, it was almost two years ago,” he continued.

“Well, I was on that ship for approximately one month and honestly, I do not recall you, the first contract was spiced up with a lot of new information and life adjustments, so – I am sorry; I am not sure if I remember you from my first contract. Is that’s all, or you have any other questions? I think I passed the test and can go back to my duties!” I tried to finish up this conversation, as fast as possible to rush away – the created atmosphere has become quite heavy and tensed, I want to get out. Flee, my lovely lady – there is no place to hide, remember!

“Yes, that’s it, you have passed the test, welcome on board the ‘Miracle’ and I’ll see you around,” he signed my test results and handed over my permanent emergency card acknowledging that I am suitable for my duties.

“Thank you, see ya!” I got up from the chair so quickly that one of my shoe heels hook behind the chair’s legs and after stepping forward, my left leg remained barefoot; I tried to bend as elegant as it’s possible by being trapped in the tight, stiff white uniform skirts, I have to get the shoe out from the trap to put it back on my feet and finally get out of the room – my clumsiness feels like ages.

On the way to the office, I tried to understand what the life is playing again, because – I remember why he seemed so familiar, his rehearsed pick-up lines towards every girl and everything that came along – unfortunately, not with the most pleasant things wrapped, but - the past belongs to the past – what matters is this present moment.

“The most dangerous risk of all – the risk of spending your life not doing what you want on the bet you can buy yourself the freedom to do it later,” Alan Watts.

“B column: B 13, again B column: B 25, G 51. Who feels lucky tonight?”

Welcome to the monthly crew Bingo night. For the onboard Accounting team, it is a mandatory party to attend – we have to count the revenue money from the sold tickets and divide it as the prize for the winners – we have to be there.

The amazing thing with this team is that Anurag is one great Chief Accountant – he tends to keep all of us together – going for the lunches, dinners, organizing parties in the office, watching movies in his cabin and going out – also tonight, we agreed that instead of sending only one person to do the job, we all are going as a team. One will count the money and others can keep the company or play.

Standing by the main bar, sipping our drinks and hoping for the lucky Bingo card – the soft punch in my back interrupts the concentration on the numbers that are called out by the tonight’s Hostess.

“Giuseppe! Hi! Wow – I feel flattered for your direct approach! There are a lot of people around, you know,” I said wondering about his unusual gesture.

“Hi Helen, how are you?” He smiled and asked.

“Good, good. Are you playing as well?” I asked with the surprise; seriously – what caused this sudden tactic in front of all my team and picking up the casual conversation!

“No, I am here only for a while as, technically, I am still on duty until the midnight. Come aside with me for a minute,” and he pulled me few meters away from the rest of the team. Skilled moves, as usually.

“What happened? I thought you don’t want to see me!” I said and laughed slightly sarcastically.

“Don’t be silly, I was just busy, you know how it is. What are you doing tomorrow in Juneau, are you going out?”

“That’s funny, I don’t know your busy schedule, anymore – and, it is quite hard to maintain it, isn’t it? What do you want from me?” I said, instead of hugging him, I deeply miss his tight arms.

“Come out with me, it is going to be one of my last ports, before going home; I want to go out with you,” he said.

“Tomorrow is also my Chief Accountant’s one of the last ports, as he will sign off the same day as you and we agreed to go out early – from the moment the ship will dock, we are going to hike up to the Mount Roberts. What is your shift for tomorrow? What time are you free? Depending on the time when we will be back, I might join you but – do not promise anything.”

“I can go after 12, give me a call around that time and if you can – come; if no, then – no.”

“Will see tomorrow,” I sharply said.

“Ok, I’ll see you later then,” and he moved towards the other side of the show lounge and approached to another girl from the SPA Department; no matter how much I didn’t want to look at him, especially seeing where he is going and with whom he is talking – my eyes kept looking for his shadow.

I know for sure three other girls with whom he had slept with and – the funniest thing – I still need to work together with two of these girls – while doing the weekly inventories in the SPA and while Entertainment Hosts comes over to collect the Bingo cards with the cash logs for the guests or – when any of them must drop their departments’ receipts in our office. Fun aquarium.

Everybody knows everything and that is the challenging part; to look in the other woman’s eyes and have the simple question that circles in the mind – did you slept in his cabin last night?

These games are tiring.

I just want him to stop playing the games with me! I am tired and mentally exhausted, it leaves me empty and without the soul! Allowing things to happen as they are and coping with the situation – is like destroying myself – day, by day, by day…

With this attitude, I am sinking deeper into the mire; I can feel that it is not the right direction; the easy ships life takes too much out of me and changes my perceptions and the basic understanding what is acceptable and normal – I start to accept the things and attitudes around like a part of the common, usual life – like this would be justifiable.

Before this weird and mental communication with Giuseppe, I couldn’t imagine that I would ever allow someone to treat me like this – that I could accept the careless, trashy attitude from any man; that I will try to keep him so tightly close despite that when I am with him – I feel much worse than without him; that I feel like I wouldn’t be good enough for him; that I constantly need to prove something to him and validate my likings, beliefs, and actions, but – this is what the addiction and obsession does to common sense – it twists it into the nonsense.

After several times when he promised to go out with me in Juno, Skagway or Ketchikan – and on the last minute, right before actually heading to the gangway – he canceled it with no sense of the guilt or apology – now he wants to go out again.

Maybe tomorrow he will change his mind again, pretending that we didn’t arrange anything and I will wait pointlessly – destroying the crumbs of my self-respect – killing them down and allowing the air to blast me into the nothingness.

Next morning, we got up early to finish the crucial tasks in the office, so by 9 am our Accounting team could hit the trail and hike up to the Mount Roberts.

There is the only aerial tramway in Southeast Alaska waiting for us, the cars rise approximately 1’800 feet from the cruise ship’s dock in downtown Juneau and it takes us over the rain forest offering stunning views.

The ride is steep and it brings us to the beginning of the actual hiking trail; the morning is refreshing but, while going higher and higher, the clouds became much thicker and the air smelt like it is going to rain soon.

Not even half an hour later – the predictions became the harsh reality – lashing rain came over – but, none of us complained about the conditions – we kept our bodies alert to avoid the slippery rocks and still – having fun.

It was difficult to understand where exactly is the top of this mountain – the visibility became poor and then the stories about a wild bear families and other Alaskan animals started to flow from Anurag; he once saw them not too far from the place we are now; I believe him, as, during the previous hiking experience in Skagway, we also saw fresh bear fur on the tree branches, no surprise – we are the guests in these forests.

The rain and misty fog took up its force and none of us had the proper hiking boots, Nel was the first one, who slipped and almost slide down – then it was my turn; close enough to the side of the small trail – the warning is clear, we have to stop playing with the luck – hiking in this weather without the gear is not smart.

Guess what – heading down is much dangerous than hiking uphill!

One step ahead of the next one and – constantly, one of us is sliding down while trying to keep the balance; we changed the tactic and aligned in one single line by assigning the call out numbers for each of us – from time to time we were repeating them out loud to make sure that all of us are still here and fine, so we wouldn’t need to turn around looking for others – the distraction might enforce to lose the balance under the feet.

Frequently, I was checking the time and counting if I would still make it back till 12 to meet up with Giuseppe.

When we finally came down, I was soaking wet – even the underwear. My jacket didn’t hold the intensity of the rain, so the water got into all possible places; despite to the conditions – I am happy that luck was on our side – nobody got hurt during this adventure.

Anurag wanted to have the lunch in a bar right next to the port, but I told him that I cannot promise to be there, as I need to give a call to one friend who will be signing off in the next homeport as well. I guess he knew.

After reaching my cabin, I had a voice mail from Giuseppe telling to meet up in the bar “Viking” somewhere on the Front Street at 12:30, there was still a little bit of time for me to change and find this place. Nel knew what is going on and she said that she will be coming with me to this bar, once she will see that he is there, she will go to the grocery shop to get some snacks and will leave me there. Such a sweetheart.

“Viking” – this name is perfect for the place; since the moment when we opened the door, people scanned us from the hair till the toes – I believe that we were the only foreigners in here, at least I don’t see any.

The middle of the day but people seems to be already wasted – these big, rough, hairy men with long beards, torn working clothes and sipping beer like it would be a water.

I am squeezing in the line to get closer to the bar and drag the attention from the lady serving random drinks – I want to get a cup of coffee.

For quite a decent time she pretended not to see us, the whole atmosphere reminded me a typical small village’s local bar where everybody knows everyone and foreigners are not welcomed.

We do not belong in their lives and reality – they have these rights; I am not the one whose home is in these forests, mountains, and lakes.

We do not belong to this wildness and Alaskan harshness does not damage our hearts; we are cruising and in here only for the summer months to enjoy the best time of the year – when the season is over, we set sail but they remain in the winter and the draining harshness.

To spice up already tensed atmosphere, I managed to create the situation even worse.

“Do you have late?” Why the heck I couldn’t simply ask for the coffee and that’s it!

“No, maybe try to another side of the town,” the lady behind the bar counter growled out without even looking at me; it felt that she could be capable of asking one of the local customers to kick us out from here.

“Fine, then coffee with milk, please,” I said.

She prepared the coffee and carelessly slipped it in front of me, adding a sarcastic smile as a sugar to this conversation. In other circumstances, I would simply turn around and leave their world to themselves, but – Giuseppe wanted to meet in here, so let it be. How the heck one person can have such a control?

It is already 12:35 and I still cannot see him anywhere, if in 10 minutes he is not coming through these doors, I am gone!

For the God sake, every time when he calls or wants to meet up – I am creating these imaginary illusions that I could help him or myself; his presence kills me but at the same time – inspires to get up and keep moving.

The door opens.

Tall, handsome and with your officer’s uniform still on; the strong steps and the determined look in the eyes; Nel immediately moved towards the other table to use the internet for a moment longer.

“Hey, how was your day?” He came straight to me and sat down.

“Hey Giuseppe, honestly, it was exciting and a little bit scary. I told you that we are planning to hike up the Mount Roberts, so we did but we were caught by the fog and lashing rain – I am so happy that we were safe, though.” I said and gave my phone to show him the pictures.

“How did you even imagined to go up there dressed like this? You are crazy, it is stupid.”

....