Chapter 10

CHAPTER 10 TEN DAYS LATER THURSDAY, MARCH 26, 1964 By the end of the second week, Jackson had school figured out. He could remember all the words to the Pledge of Allegiance. He'd learned every verse of "My Country, 'Tis of Thee," which

they sang together after the pledge. He could get to the boys' room with his eyes closed. As for the kids, Jackson had decided it was easier to just stay away. Half the time he didn't understand what they were talking about. He'd stand there feeling all confused, like a moose calf lost in the woods. What was the point of even trying to figure out what a Hula-Hoop was, or why this beetle band was so great? Soon he'd be back in the bush where he belonged. None of that stuff would matter. He'd never see these kids again. At lunchtime he skipped the cafeteria and slipped right out to the playground. He'd pick out a quiet spot behind a giant pile of snow. That way he could eat his sandwich in peace. He avoided the recess games of hide-and-seek. When Leonor would invite him over after school, Jackson would make up an excuse. Same with Mary's ice-skating party and sledding at Nora's. Finally, kids stopped asking him to do things. They didn't try to include him in their talks about

bands or toys or games. They didn't ask him to tell any more exciting stories about the bush. These past few days, nobody at school talked to Jackson much at all, except for Miss Lawrence. Which was what Jackson wanted, right? That Thursday morning, the class was buzzing with excitement. Easter weekend was coming up. School was closed tomorrow for the Good Friday holiday. All morning kids chattered about their holiday plans. There were family dinners. An Easter egg hunt. A basketball game at the high school. Ice-skating at the pond. But what the kids were most excited about was a big supply ship that would be docking in Valdez tomorrow afternoon. It was called the Chena, and it was coming from Seattle. Jackson had already heard about it from Uncle Solly. His close buddy was a member of the crew. Uncle Solly was hoping to see him while the ship was docked.

"Half the town will be there to watch the Chena unload," Uncle Solly had said. "Everyone is waiting for something that's on that ship." The stores in town were running low on food and other things, Uncle Solly had explained. Fresh fruits and vegetables. Toilet paper. Batteries. Parts for cars. Just yesterday Jackson had heard Chris complaining that the market was out of Twinkies. "I'm going to starve!" he'd moaned. Pretty much everything people bought at stores in Alaska came from the Lower 48. That's what people in Alaska called the other parts of the United States—everywhere but Alaska and Hawaii. Alaska had lots of trees and animals and fish, but not many farms or factories. Even Mom and Dad and Jackson needed to buy things. Like their parkas and boots, the kerosene for their lamps, their fishing gear and woodstove. And, of course, the extra food they needed for the winter—rice,

noodles, oatmeal, beans. They wouldn't be able to live in the bush without all that stuff. Thinking about all this, Jackson eyed Miss Lawrence as she wrote out long division problems on the blackboard. He tried to picture her ancestors trudging across that icy bridge. There were no stores or ships back then. People had to get everything from the land—every bite of food, every scrap of clothing. They invented new ways to hunt and fish. They figured out how to build warm houses and fast boats from caribou hide or the bark of trees. They'd found ways to live, to have families, to stay in Alaska for all these centuries. Talk about Alaska tough, Jackson thought. At recess that day, Jackson had found a new pile of snow where he could sit on his own. He'd just finished his sandwich when he heard kids talking nearby. He recognized some of the voices—

Nora, Mary, Leonor, Chris. They couldn't see him, but he could hear what they were talking about. "The Chena is the best ship," a boy was saying. "Last year I got three lollipops," said Mary. "I got chocolate!" said another girl. "I got an orange," Nora said proudly. An orange! Jackson had never even seen one of those. He listened as Nora told how she brought it home and saved it for days. "What did it taste like?" someone asked her. "Like sunshine," she said. Jackson smiled a little as he tried to imagine what sunshine might taste like. Nora always knew how to describe things, Jackson had noticed. The kids bickered over when it would be best to meet at the waterfront. In the end they decided on five o'clock. "Should we invite Jackson?" Leonor asked. Jackson's ears perked up. Maybe this was one time he'd say yes. He'd like to get his hands on a