“You did it yesterday, with the guide.”
“Exactly, with the guide. Who’s certified and trained in handling the machinery.”
This time, Gabriel huffs out an indignant breath. His arms come up and across his body as best as he’s able to manage with the thickness of the sleeves. James is desperate to hide his smile at the clumsy display in front of him. “So you don’t trust me?”
“With everything, except heavy machinery.” He prays to everything he doesn’t believe in that the fondness in his eyes isn’t as noticeable as he thinks it is. “I’ll be with the animals, having a good time.”
“But-”
“No, Gabriel. I know you’ll enjoy it.” He gives Gabriel a little nudge toward the group. “I’ll be back on one of them later today.” It’s the end of the discussion, shortly after they’re joined by the last remaining members of the group and set off to the edge of town.
There, James spends a better part of two hours keeping a close eye on Gabriel, who despite his hatred toward the cold is seemingly having a great time doing laps across the snow-covered landscape.
The only thing that’s putting a damper on the afternoon is the darkening sky above him. And according to the guide it’s not due to the setting of the weak winter sun. For the second time a heavy set of clouds seems to put a stop to the visibility of the Aurora Borealis.
*
“Come on, the group’s waiting for us.” Gabriel tries to get him to get up from his seat in the restaurant. The emptier carriage speaks for itself for the most part.
“You heard the guide this afternoon. The probability is minimal,” replies James, bitterly.
“But never zero, so come on. I’m not letting you miss this.”
The heavy feeling that’s been present in James’ stomach since last night has only been growing. Right now it’s like lead, weighing him down and wanting to keep him here. He figures if he doesn’t leave the train, closes the curtains in their cabin and just goes to sleep, he can pretend that he hasn’t missed anything. Sort of like Schrödinger’s box. He can’t be disappointed if he missed the lights because he slept through them, but he will be disappointed if he makes the trip out to the mountains and gets let down a second time.
“I’m not going without you. And I’m not letting you miss this.” Gabriel’s words sound like a final argument as he grabs James’ elbow and nudges him up on his feet. With great reluctance and plenty of spluttering, James gets shoved into his coat and to the door of the restaurant.
Outside they’re greeted by a smaller group of people than the one that accompanied them last night. To his dismay, Paul and Riley are again lingering among them. Even with the ruckus of the others, he hears Paul snark, “He kept everyone waiting. Always so uncaring about other people.”
James flushes and ducks into himself, lingering at the back of the group when they’re sorted onto different snowmobiles. It’s hard to blink back tears when it’s this cold, but as some fall out of the corner of his eyes, he can always blame it onthe biting cold air that whips around his head. The anxiousness of the last few days is fraying his nerves, draining him of his energy.
Their arrival at the darkness covered view spot doesn’t lift the feeling at all. In fact, looking at the empty canvas of the night sky spreading across the horizon only makes it worse. He knows there’s nothing to blame other than the weather, but it doesn’t make the disappointment any less real.
25 [Gabriel] From Tromsø to Stockholm
December 18th
It’s early morning when they get back toThe Evergreen. There’s no crew that greets them and welcomes them back, but at this hour it’s to be expected. Gabriel figures it’s for the best, since James looks like he’ll burst into tears if someone were to stop him on their way to the cabin.
The disappointment isn’t unexpected and, if Gabriel’s honest, he feels a little out of depth at how to deal with it. It’s not like it’s not shared, obviously he hoped to see the Northern Lights as well, but overall the experience in the Arctic was something he didn’t expect. For the first few hours, the quiet was unnerving and the vast emptiness of his surroundings off-putting.
But the sledding turned out to be an activity unlike any other. The freedom from the snowmobiling is something he’ll be chasing for weeks to come, just as learning about thenatives and the fierceness with which they protect their own was equal amounts of invigorating and uplifting.
The lights would’ve been the perfect way to end the trip, make the ideal conclusion to their journey and complete the list Gabriel knows James drew up for Tromsø. He’d hoped that, out of all the activities and plans James penned down in that little book, this one would’ve been ticked off.
Unfortunately it wasn’t. And sneaking a glance at James now, who’s struggling with untying his shoes and getting rid of a few extra layers, he hates how it’s so clear to see that even now James is beating himself up over feeling disappointed. As if he’s not allowed to be disheartened by these turn of events.
“Hey,” Gabriel says, sitting down in one of the armchairs to untie his own shoes, “you okay?” It feels dumb to ask, but he feels platitudes of reassurance will be falling on deaf ears right now. He knows that, had he been in James’ shoes, he wouldn’t have wanted empty words of consolation either. While they wouldn’t be meaningless, because Gabriel would mean every syllable of them, he knows they’re just not welcome right now. By asking James about his state of being, he puts the ball in his court. And right now, that’s where it needs to be.
“I’m fine,” James says meekly, clearly not fine at all. He stands up abruptly, making a grab for the set of clean towels on the end of the bed. “Going to take a shower.”
And he’s gone. It’s with a heavy heart that Gabriel tracks his movements, right up until the closing of the bathroom door. There’s nothing he can do, other than undress himself and make himself comfortable. He drapes his clothes, cold and damp from the snow, over his cabinet and makes quick work of slipping into his pajamas.
The shower turns on, the sound of the water ricocheting on the tile echoing throughout the otherwise empty cabin, and minutes later he feels the train start moving. His tired body, as well as his weary mind, drift into sleep before he’s even aware of it. The soft rainlike sound and the soothing motions of the wheels on the track lull him to a dreamless slumber.
*
When he wakes, the skyline is bathed in light and promising a clear winter day. It’s the latest he’s woken up during the whole of the trip so far, and for a moment he’s disorientated. His phone clearly tells him it’s just after ten, meaning he’s missed breakfast. James would usually be up and pattering about right now. But as he listens to the sounds permeating the room, he’s greeted by calmness and silence.
