one day soon. Very soon.
I miss you. I thought you being gone would be hard. But not this hard.
Been forever since I’ve seen your pretty face. Do you look different? Do you feel different? With the way you move around, I can’t help but think that you’re restless. I can’t help but hope that maybe you’ve had enough of moose country and you’re ready to head back here.
I told you I wouldn’t pressure you. I’m trying not to, but I’d give everything I own to hold you in my arms right now.
Take care of yourself. But sweetheart, I sure wish it was me taking care of you.
Cal
Year four…
Cal,
I was so happy to see in your last letter that you were able to take some time off and go to Colorado Springs. I always wanted to ride the train to the top of Pike’s Peak. I imagine the view was something. But I’ve gotta say—we’ve got bigger mountains here in Alaska.
I found it…interesting that you didn’t tell me who you traveled to Colorado with.
With sunlight until almost midnight, the growing season here means I’ve seen some huge pumpkins. There are dahlias the size of dinner plates. If I could, I’d get a job working outside. At least in the summer.
You asked if I went out and whooped it up now that I’m living in the big city of Anchorage. Nope, because I don’t have any free time. But yes, I still have time to be your pen pal. Aunt Hulda sends me long letters about the funny and stupid things she does when she doesn’t have me to watch after her. I know it’s her way of telling me she misses me. Carolyn hardly ever writes me. It seems weird that she has two boys now and I’ve never seen either one of them.
I know it seems like I move around a lot. But it’s what I want after being stuck in one place so long. I’ve seen so many incredible things and I know there’s so much more I haven’t seen. I wish you were here to share it with me.
Behave yourself, cowboy.
Kimi
Year four…
Kimi,
Been a while since I’ve heard from you. Your sister doesn’t say much about what you’ve been up to, so that makes me think that maybe you found yourself a mountain man. I’d worry you’d been eaten by a bear or were lost at sea, but Carolyn did let it slip that you were way far north now in Prudhoe Bay. So being at the North Pole I figured maybe you were working for Santa Claus.
I just keep on, keepin’ on. Dad is buying land left and right and it’s taking a toll on me’n Carson because it seems like we can never catch up. It’s been a lot of driving and that gives me way too much time to think about your last few letters and how you talk nonstop about how great it is in Alaska. I worry that you’re not ever coming back here.
I need to hear from you. It’s hard not knowing if you’ve moved on with someone else.
Cal
Year five…
Calvin McKay, you jackass,
I haven’t MOVED ON WITH SOMEONE ELSE! Although the accusation makes me wonder if I might’ve been better off if I had.
I can’t believe you
Okay, I had to take a break and have a smoke. During the little time I can stand to spend outside in this frigid air, in the damn dark, I realized Carolyn couldn’t tell you what happened because I haven’t told her. She worries too much and the woman has enough to worry about these days.
First of all, I moved to Prudhoe Bay from Anchorage when oil was discovered up here. I was lucky enough to get in on the first wave of workers, which means we got a tiny house with two bedrooms for four women—sadly that’s more than the shacks most people are living in. I’ve been working in a bar/restaurant 70 hours a week. It is crazy up here. The ratio of men to women is like 200 to 1. There’s not enough housing, food is more expensive here than in New York City, vehicles have to run 24 hours a day or they’ll freeze up, and there’s no sun at all from November to mid-January. So it’s dark, crowded, and cold as a witch’s tit in a brass bra. There’s rumors of a new pipeline that’s gonna be built straight down the center of the state, which means more guys moving up here