Heart of Winter

by Dr.Shisno


The Grey

As compared to day before, it was colder, but lack of storm blowing into face made cold bearable. In the still dark of morning, Sergei woke self, laughing to himself how he was only waking up one person. Ignoring his jest, I finished preparation for journey, putting what little I had as possessions into rucksack. Clothes, survival supplies, shelter; things that would prove useful in later portion of journey. Small essentials found place in pack as well: small hygiene kit, medical kit, some canned foods, things of that nature. Woman’s pack held more or less same supplies. While self’s pack was at least 150 kilos, hers was half. I would not like to hear complaints of pack being heavy. After double-checking items, packing and repacking both rucksacks, I saw that such was good and went to kitchen.

Coffee did little to stimulate senses. Only thing to feel was numbing cold. Even after third black cup, tiredness’ grip did not cease. Breakfast only filled stomach, providing little energy. I mumbled more curses under breath after putting new bandage around cut on hand. Soon, we were heading into cold after Sergei forced self to pull tight on parka. Sergei continued to chuckle at self’s misery. More curses were mumbled.

The lack of snowfall left only sound between Sergei and I to be crunching of footfalls. Lack of conversation I was happy for, no poking or prodding questions. Only putting one foot in front of other. Trying to follow Sergei’s dark shadow in blackness. Simple.

It was short walk to airfield from Sergei’s cabin. Bright lights of ice plows were already at work clearing runway and taxiways. Sergei continued to lead in silence past many hangars before finally stopping at the door of one. Unlocking of door unveiled large dark room that was colder than outside. Sergei was busy humming to himself, letting his flashlight guide us both.

The small beam of light fell upon old silver aircraft, its shine hidden by thick layer of dust. Two giant propeller engines on each wing bore many cobwebs. “What do you think?” Sergei announced, gesturing to aircraft. “Gentle giant! Same plane as Amelia Earhart!”

“What a piece of junk,” I scoffed at him. “Will it even fly?”

 “She may not look like much, but she’s got it where it counts. I have made a lot of special modifications myself. So, yes, she will fly,” he quickly retorted at my accusation before letting loose loud laugh. “I have near thousand hours. Just not been able to get out much. Storm, you know.”

“Whatever,” I shrugged. “What do we need to get done?”

“Start the generator, to warm hangar. A warm plane is happy plane.” He opened the door to the rear of the aircraft, earning a coughing fit from all the dust. “Maybe vacuum. We do not want Princess complaining.”

“Yeah. Just point self in right direction.”

A hand popped out of aircraft, thumbing in direction behind aircraft. “Somewhere in that direction.” Hand popped back in then out, “Catch,” tossing flashlight.

“Thanks,” catching the wayward light and waving him off, I made way to tail end of aircraft. After fighting through cobwebs and layers of dust, finding generator was simple. Starting it was other matter. The unused machine was stubborn as self. The cord to pull start engine was stuck. A few curses and physical application of foot released it from grip. Few quick pulls later, generator was humming, sending more dust everywhere.

“It is on, Sergei,” was self’s coughing fit over humming of generator. “Where is this damn vacuum?”

“Turn on lights first,” his head popped out top of aircraft, presumably by cockpit. “I cannot see shit.”

“Then where is light switch?”

“Over there,” he thumbed behind him, back towards door.

“Why do you keep light switch and generator in different places?”

He laughed, “To keep people asking me questions.” He dove back into plane, laughing, before I had time for retort.

“Clever piece of shit,” I sighed.

“The state hears all!” came his booming voice.

“Yeah, yeah,” rolling eyes before walking in direction of light switch. It was not much to fight through cobwebs and dust to light switch, but was difficult to find. Flipping it resulted in more humming. Hanger slowly became lit as lights came alive. I called out to Sergei, “Do self’s actions please the state?”

Sergei’s head popped back out of the aircraft, standing as proudly as small space would allow. “You have pleased the state with your glorious actions. Comrades rejoice across the Motherland, speaking nothing but praises for you. As we speak, a parade is being made.” He made motion as if he was speaking to second person. “Take him behind factory, have him shot.”

That brought self to smile. “Such is life. Anything else? Oh wait, glorious vacuum. Where is it?”

This made Sergei laugh harder than usual, doubling over. In midst of laughter, he pointed thumb behind him. “The generator.”

I rubbed the bridge of nose, it kept self from yelling in frustration. “You are enjoying this, are you not?”

“Too much.” I made out through his laughter. “Bring tool set over as well. I need to check few things.”

“Is there anything else the state wants?”

“Vodka, a sandwich, and woman who doesn’t complain much.”
This brought another round of laugh from both of us. “So you just want Vodka then? That is best I can do.”

“Da, though not too much, I have to fly plane later.” He dove back into aircraft, but soon returned. “Speaking of woman. You might want to wake yours.”

Making way back to generator, I ignored his statement for moment. “In due time. It would be better for her to sleep.” Vacuum was easy to spot and drag over to door of aircraft. “Tools?”
       
        He appeared at the door, sitting on ledge. “Behind you, actually.”
       
        Turning around did reveal toolbox. Turning back around revealed a smiling Sergei. “Why did you not get it yourself, you lazy yuk.”
       
        He laughed, “The state should not over exert itself.”
       
        “Right, you should be able to get it.” Waving Sergei off, I headed to door. “I will see if Princess wants to join us.”
       
        “I thought you wanted to have her sleep more?”
       
        “The State lies, does it not?” Flipping hood over head, I opened door. “Besides, I would like to leave. If all goes well, I should return within a week.” He waved me off before popping back into aircraft.

Opening door to outside brought sharp wave of cold, a cold that cut through parka. It became difficult to remember time when there was no cold. When no frost stuck to face. When cold air did not cause self to shiver. Maybe it was first time self noticed cold. It had been part of life for so long. I had grown accustomed to cold. I shook off those feelings, trying to focus on putting foot in front of other. Walk back to Sergei’s cabin. Wake the sleeping beast. That thought brought chuckle. No, she was not beast. Just difficult to understand. But, so were beasts.

Thoughts occupied self long enough for walk back to cabin. Warmness in cabin brought cold out of body in shiver. Without wind blowing in face, there was lull that I could not escape. Arriving at her door, the lull hurt my ears. Even behind door, her soft breaths resonated. Enough to say she was still asleep. Closed door kept self standing there for some time. Long enough to consider walking back to Sergei.

Opening door, it was difficult to find her under pile of blankets she was under. She was lying on side, back to door. Finding open spot on edge of bed, I sat down, trying not to disturb her too much. Even in slumber, she looked delicate. Her hair seemed to reject notion of sleep and appeared to stay perfect. Finding what was shoulder under mound of blankets was bit difficult, but hand kept position there on her shoulder. Part of self could not wake her, but other part knew it was necessary. I went with latter, shaking gently. She hummed gently, moving slightly under grip.

“Rarity, wake up,” another shake and she hummed again. A smile appeared on her lips. “It is time go.” Another shake and she did not stir further. “Rarity, one warning, I will pull you out of this bed.”

“I’d like to see you try,” she mumbled, her smile growing.

That brought chuckle out, “You wish for me to throw you out into snow? It can be arranged.”

“Fine,” she sighed, rolling onto back. “You’re no fun.”

“I never was fun to begin with.” I patted her shoulder, getting off of bed. “Get dressed, we are leaving soon.”

“Fine,” was her grumble, sitting up in bed.

“I will make your breakfast while you dress. Try not to complain too much.” I made way to door, hearing her mumble things to herself. It was easy to ignore. Even easier to ignore when I was out of room, in kitchen. Thankfully, she was easy to cook for. Eggs, toast, and tea was enough to satisfy. Though, I waited few minutes to start, so that it would not be cold when she arrived. In the dead time, I started to make more coffee. Also so I would not hear more complaints. Dealing with her whining was not high on list of things to do.

I was not to wait long. At least twenty minutes at most, time for enjoying one cup of coffee. Rarity strolled into the kitchen, with very neutral look on face. She wore set of heavy pants and purple sweater with boots to match. I wondered where she had gotten such clothes, but it was matter for another time. I had to cook.

“How do you want eggs?” I asked, cracking eggs over warm pan. “Like usual?”

“Yes, that would be wonderful,” she kept off to side, folding arms and leaning up against wall. “How long have you been up?”

“Too long.” I spoke over sizzling of egg. “And it is too cold.” Silence persisted after I spoke. I did not feel like making effort of closing gap. Words were not worth effort. And effort was diverted into making breakfast.

Toast popped from toaster and put on plate along with eggs. “Here,” was all I managed… all I wanted to say. I did not expect reply nor did I receive reply. Between silent sip of coffee and quiet bits of food, one could hear wind beat against window.

I could feel cold gaze from her every few seconds. Silence must have been too much, for she spoke up. “What happened to your hand?”

My bandaged hand was holding my cup. Taking sip, I brought cup away from lips, changing hands. “I cut it.”

“It just seems very unlike you to take care of your injuries.”

“I do what I have to. I have to remind self that I won’t have a nurse all the time.”

“Yes,” she smugly smiled. “We all have to grow up eventually.”

I winced at passing blow. “I am still alive, if that is proof that have grown up enough. I am surprised you have made it this far.”

She took a last bite of food before placing fork thoughtfully placing fork on lips. “By that logic, I’ve lost a few years. I certainly look it.”

“A little exercise tends to be better for people, da.” I took her now empty plate and put it in sink. “It tends to make one not so round in middle.” Her lack of quick response and boiling feeling on back of skull only brought small smile to face.

“You think what we’ve been doing all this time has been exercise?” I could only imagine her expression. Her fiery tone was enough explanation. “We have yet to leave this house and you call that exercise?”

“This is most excitement I have had for long time.” A noncommittal shrug was added for effect. “So da, exercise.”

“You call all this sitting around exercise?”

“Da,” I turned to face my accuser. “Taking care of you has been a workout.”
Shade of red her face turned was one I had yet to see. Somewhere between embarrassment and frustration. Not quite bold blood crimson, but like blood splatter on snow. Smile continued to brighten as her eyes continued to stab. “So, I’m a burden now?”

“Nyet, I said you are workout, not burden: two different words. Burden would mean you are hindering self’s progress. Workout would mean that you are making self do something I have yet to do, ever. Two very different words.”

After being severely injured in her eyes few times, she collected herself before letting out weighed sigh. “Are you quite finished? Or are you going to continue to be immature? Because I can assure you, your petty jokes are just that.”

My smile went away with a shrug. “Whatever you say. But yes, I am done with jokes.” I left place and went to grab both packs. After adjusting my own pack on back, I carried Rarity’s pack back to where I left her in kitchen. Her pack clattered on ground in front of her. “We leave in ten. I have packed your rucksack. You may put whatever else you see fit in it.”

There was quick struggle to pick up pack before she stomped off, which in turn brought out a chuckle. Such small girl with big boots, it was any wonder how she fit them. But was not of huge concern at moment. Making sure everything was at one hundred percent was of top priority. Not having left anything vital was of top priority. Trying not to split blood vessel in head was also top of list of things to do. Jokes were preventative measure of last task.

I was able to enjoy final cup of coffee when Rarity walked back in kitchen, heavy jacket on, rucksack causing her to slump, and unhappy scowl completing look. “What did you put in here? Rocks?”

“It has what is necessity for travel ahead. If it troubles you, you can carry my pack if you wish.”

“What are you carrying then?”

“Bigger rocks,” was smug reply which was returned with roll of eyes and lack of reply. Which was easily accepted as no. “Very well then. We should leave now. Last check for your things.”

She stared in disbelief for few moments. “You packed my things and what little I have was easy to find. I think we can leave now.”

“Whatever you say,” I shrugged. “Enjoy last bit warmth you will feel for some time.” Another roll of eyes was reply. I was in no mood to argue again.

Opening door, cold gust of wind woke up self more than coffee. Quick sigh and I was out of door, followed by Rarity. Sun was still nowhere to be seen, but darkness was replaced with dull grey twilight. It was only making it barely better to see where self was walking. Walk to hanger was like one with Sergei. Quiet. Silence, save for crunching of snow and wind. Even when self looked towards her, just to check, she averted gaze. It was understandable. Bridge has been crossed and, by Soviet standards, torched to ground. Not one-step backwards. Such is Soviet standards, nyet?

Hanger was significantly warmer, after shouldering open ice covered door. The aircraft gleamed in the shining lights, dust and cobwebs that once hindered beauty now gone. It looked flyable and not museum piece. A new confidence in Sergei’s ability was found.

The pilot’s head popped out of cockpit after hearing door slam closed. “Welcome happy couple! We will soon be boarding for flight to Canada! So please, load all belongs in cargo hold, and make ready for last minute flight check.” After announcement he ducked back into cockpit as quickly as he arrived.

                Booming voice echoed for few moments before hanger returned to silence. “He’s certainly lively this morning,” Rarity said. I could feel glare, as her eyes bore holes in side of head. “More than someone I know.”

                It was self’s turn to roll eyes. “I have moments. This morning is not one of such moments.” I started to make way to aircraft.

                “I don’t think you have had one of those moments in a long time.” Rarity followed, keeping few paces behind self.
       
        “And you are probably right,” I shrugged. “And I can’t remember when last one was.”
       
        “Why?” was her quick answer and question.
       
        “Because,” I stopped and turned to her, “I do not feel like thinking about the past right now. Happy?”
       
        A light sigh escaped her lips, while look of almost defeat appeared on face. Though it disappeared as quickly as it appeared, being replaced with frustration. “Yes, happy.” She pushed past self, and kept walking towards aircraft.
                
After mumbling few curses to self about situation life had put self in, self followed after her towards aircraft. Sergei was already greeting Rarity with smiles and laughs, which she returned. Her frustration eased away with each laugh. I need to thank Sergei for such action. He helped with her relieving of her pack and getting her into aircraft.
       
        I approached while he put the pack into the cargo hold and he took mine as well, easing it into the hold. “What are the last things we need to do?” was self’s question.

                After taking deep breath and closing cargo hold door, “Open hangar doors, pull aircraft out, start her, close doors and lock up hanger, after such we will be on our way.”
                
“Sounds too simple.”

                “Da, it does. Thankfully, it is that simple,” He made way to hangar doors. “Come along, let’s make it quick. I wish to not be cold for very long.” Heavy doors took a simple unlock from ground then strong shoulder to push open. Wind rushed in with opening doors, fueling our efforts.

                With doors opened, Sergei ran over to tug, started it, and connected with aircraft. Slowly, silver giant moved forward out of its cave. Returning the tug into hanger, he motioned for self to start closing hangar doors. Heavy shoulder was once again required for sliding doors back into place. They clanged shut with each lock. Exiting side door, which Sergei locked behind us, we trudged through snow to taxiway where aircraft was.
       
        “We need to rotate propellers few times,” he said, going over checklist in head. “Get juices properly flowing in her.”
                
“Whatever you say, Sergei,” following him to each engine. Rotating each propeller few times, the cold metal’s frost seeping past my warm gloves.

                “Right, right. Into the plane!” He ordered, and we both made way to back of aircraft, stepping up into side door into aircraft. It was first time inside aircraft. It was reminiscing of glory days of flight of 50s era. Washed out khaki and brown interior with matching seat. Highlight of dark blue were here and there. Maybe dozen seats with only one being occupied, each with its own window, lined sides. Ceiling was low, so crouched walk was only method of walking. Sergei slid into pilot’s seat, putting on headset, and I took spot next to him, mimicking his action. Cockpit was filled with aged dials and gauges, while GPS stood out being less aged than rest of instruments. After wiping dusts off of few of gauges, Sergei flipped few switches and dull hum filled cockpit.

                “Now here comes fun part,” Sergei said with smile. “CLEAR.” Dull hum turned into whine and propellers started to turn over, slowly at first before gaining speed.  Engines started to cough every few seconds, before jumping to life with loud growl, spewing out cloud of exhaust. “HAHA!” Sergei cried victoriously over rumbling of twin engines. “Only one try!” He patted top of control panel, as if thanking aircraft for being cooperative. He flipped few more switches and checked instruments and control surfaces for anything, continuing to check his preflight checklist. “Tower,” He called on radio. “This is Yankee Three, requesting permission to enter flight line.”

                “Yankee Three,” voice over radio responded. “This Tower, you’re our first one today. What’s the flight plan, over?”

                “Refueling at Nome, then Takonta for second refueling, top off at Palmer, landing at Skagway before return trip,” Sergei’s voice only audible through headset. “Three souls aboard, over.”

                “Copy, Yankee Three. Proceed to taxi to runway 9/27, over.”

                Sergei smiled, “Thank you, Tower. Have nice day.” He eased off brakes and we rumbled slowly forward down taxiway. It took few minutes to get into position where Sergei made final final check on instruments and control surfaces. After concluding everything was satisfying, he reconfirmed take off with Tower, and the plane rolled onto the runway. Gaze drifted to passenger area to Rarity. She wore look of awe and distress and was looking out window. Sergei followed my gaze and his chuckle was lost in roar of engines. “You can go sit with her if you please,” his voice crackled over radio into my headset. “I am fine up here.”

                “It is fine. I am your copilot,” was reply before turning forward. “Tell self what to do.”

                He gave self blank stare, almost curious gaze. It was held for few seconds, as if thinking of way to reply. A sigh was lost in engine noise, “Very well, I will need you to check map for heading and direction, just to double check with GPS.”
       
        “Ok, anything else?”
       
        Sergei’s smile grew again, “Yes, put chair in upright position and prepare for take off.” He pushed the throttle forward and eased off the brakes. The plane picked up speed down runway, engines roaring. Slowly the rear end of plane picked up off ground; then the plane jumped and the front wheels were off the ground. And we were off in the grey morning sky.