Fools' Gold Read Online Free PDF Page A

quickly down again, and back with the steaming pot and a bowl of sugar.
    â€œIt’s English tea,” he said proudly. “I’ve been thinking of brewing a cup for weeks now.”
    â€œThis is the first place in Alaska that has given me the feeling of a home,” she told him. “You have a beautiful view.”
    â€œI can really go home if I request it, you know,” he said, sitting down across from her. “But if I don’t I might be here forever. It’s a nice place after you get used to it.”
    Ellen nodded and blew across the surface of her tea. She pictured herself sitting straight, having tea with a stranger. Her grandmother had taught her how to have tea with gentlemen. Ellen could feel the fire from the kitchen below, and when she looked up she noticed the reverend holding his teacup high and looking at her over the top of it.
    â€œWell then, here’s to a happy stay for you and all your friends. I hope it will be profitable, both spiritually and in other ways.” He winked at her so she inclined her head and took a sip. The reverend had more tea ready and poured for her before she had quite finished what was in her cup. When he spoke to her she looked him directly in the eyes but when she spoke she looked at his forehead. It was one of her grandmother’s tricks and she was sure he hadn’t noticed. The reverend made it easy for her by taking whatever subject she did and making it his own. She mentioned the fish that they had come to buy and he talked for five minutes on what a thrill it was to catch a salmon from a canoe. He invited her to try it the next morning if the storm was gone, and she accepted. They were getting on well. Below them through the window they could see the open end of the lean-to where the party was taking place. Ellen saw Finn sitting cross-legged on the floor. She saw Henriette, crouched on a low stool, slightly above the others, leaning into the conversation.
    Finn, lifting his head from the circle of Eskimos, could see the two still figures framed in the window. First he noticed the trees, then the house, then the two figures in the window. They seemed pasted on the glass. He was talking to Phil and watching the Eskimos from Port Clarence, who sat across the circle. It was nearly time to begin the ceremony for Phil’s sister Nanoon, so they all looked about, hoping to get a glimpse of her walking toward them. Phil looked at Finn. “Today’s my sister’s day,” he said. “She begins her weeks alone. You couldn’t have come at a better time.”
    Finn’s legs ached from sitting in one position for so long and he stood and stretched. He’d been watching the preparations but hadn’t known whether to ask Phil about them or not. Phil’s sister was reaching puberty and Finn knew it was an important time. He imagined Phil needed to be alone for a while, so he borrowed a sealskin jacket and stood in the increasing rain looking for a place to relieve himself. He’d already had several bowls of the food, several glasses of wine. Phil directed him toward a creek bed from where he could still see the house of the reverend, but not the window. Rain struck his face and neck so he struggled to pull up the tough hood of the jacket and was immediately too warm inside it. He wondered where the boy had taken his mule, and at that same moment decided to keep the mule, not to try to sell it as previously he’d thought he would. Finn watched the rain hitting the quiet water of the stream. It was odd that the Eskimos had chosen this little stream as the village toilet. If he hadn’t known he’d have thought it as clean as any, for it was as clear.
    Finn turned and started back along the path that Phil had shown him. He was away from the main village, but in the first lean-to he came to he heard voices and saw through the side of it the perfect face of Nanoon, that sister, the one whose day it was and