Chapter 6: First Steps on the Moon Part 1

"You'll love the freedom up here and the open space. You'll love the peace you get. But then you'll learn to hate newcomers cuz you know they're gonna take some of all of it." Lee ended his statement with his excited hissing laugh. He'd show his dark nubs of teeth and squint his eyes with feigned enthusiasm whenever he spit out this laugh.

Henry smiled politely, not sure how to interpret his escort. Lee Bronavan had seemed a good enough soul when he picked up his bag and shook his hand at the airport. But most of his speech, and he had certainly done most of the talking, was peppered with jokes that started as rude comments. Alaska was an entirely different world. Henry figured it was part of the culture.

It didn't matter how his escort rambled. Henry was captivated with the passing landscape. Staring out the window like a Beagle, he tried to follow the wavs and hills as they rushed in and out of his view. At last, he surrendered and let his eyes glaze and follow only the blur of the horizon. The dominance of green stood out most of all. All he had heard and seen had displayed the whiteness of the frozen tundra. Yet no ice gathered on the land he saw now.

"I expected more ice," Henry said out loud.
Lee darted looks from Henry to the road and back. He had to prepare his answer in his sluggish mind. There was shadow on his face but no beard. Henry felt a beard would be an improvement.
"Well, you'll have to either move north or wait 3 to 4 months to get that. Or you can hike to the coast and dip your ass in the sea for about ten minutes," Lee finished with the same hissing guffaw as before, but this time he faced the highway.
Henry looked at him without expression, then turned back to his dazzling view.

Another hour lapsed before they passed the property line of Henry's new boss. The acreage was hard to believe, in the tens of thousands as Lee told it. The majority of this was untouched wilderness. Even the narrow dirt road to the boss's house appeared untouched save for the dirt road. Henry theorized these unkempt surroundings as a ploy to stay hidden. This argument suffered when they entered the final three acres that preceded his home.

Landscaping didn't seem an appropriate word. The change from thick imposing trees and tall grasses to vivd, exploding colors could cause vertigo. They left the forest and entered a magic kingdom, nothing but yellow and red bushes, purple and pink flowers, all backed by the constant drowning green. Fountains played and streams flowed in a man made path under decorative bridges and over colored rocks to swirl in pools where goldfish swam. Hidden cover was not a concern.

Henry had been in palaces of boisterous wealth on the west coast and drab brick mansions on the east coast that looked cold and dead to any pedestrian but enclosed marble floors, crystal tubs, and gold pianos on the inside. The home of Morgan Still shared the best of both. Henry imagined such flash as a reaction to the anonymity of his world. The bosses in the continental states couldn't care less what happened in Alaska. There was no way it could intrude in their business. Once in awhile, the bosses might lose track of someone in Alaska, someone they want dead, but that proved too minor an issue to consider.

Morgan Still didn't live like the bosses Henry knew and he didn't look like the bosses Henry knew. Boss Still stood a solid six and a half feet. His body was thick with a wide waist and broad shoulders, a true moose of a man. He wore old flannel coats and high, heavy rubber boots. He met the stereotype of the rugged mountain hunter in every way but his mind. And he always kept a clean shaven face, not typical of Alaskan men.

The flannel coats and big untied boots were no mistake. The goal was to send the wrong impression to encourage someone to underestimate him. Boss Still demonstrated strategy and direction in every thought and action. He would prove to be the most shrewd of the bosses Henry had encountered and quickly earned his respect.

"Looks like fuckin' Disneyland don't it?" Lee spit as he jumped out of his truck. Henry quite enjoyed the scenery and again remained without expression. He thought someone as talkative as his escort would find this infuriating. And he was right. Lee Bronavan carried Henry's bags with two clenched fists as they cascaded the stairs to Boss Still's front door.

Lee removed his tattered cowboy hat when Boss Still opened the door. Henry followed the cue and removed his hat before extending his hand. Boss Still's voice carried the weight his body suggested. The tone hovered low but the volume was loud, even in a simple greeting.

"Pleased to meet ya," Morgan greeted as he took Henry's hand. "Always good to steal a big brain from the mainland." He beamed.
Lee didn't spit or hiss when he laughed at the boss's comment. He barely mustered a giggle.