It’s such a lovely thing to say, I reach out and pat the gnarled hand holding onto the top of the partially-open window.
“Thank you.”
“And if you don’t mind the advice,” says Toby, “ditch those stupid sandals and get some proper shoes.”
I chuckle softly and nod.
“You’re ready,” says Toby, squeezing my hand once before letting go. He knocks on the roof of Jack’s cab lightly before turning around and heading back into the airport.
“Now, where we headed?” asks Jack.
I give him the address to my temporary apartment building on Cathedral Way in downtown Sitka, every cell of my being hoping that Toby-from-the-airport’s wishes for my future somehow come true.
4
Amanda
The next morning, which is partly sunny and considerably warmer than last night, I call Jack and ask him for a lift from my apartment to a local Sitka animal sanctuary: Fortress of the Bears.
Hours of on-line research last night proved fruitful and I’m excited to meet some bears (and their keepers) today. Founded in 2007, the Fortress of the Bears’ mission is to rescue orphaned cubs and care for them, with an eventual plan to release them back into the wild.
I didn’t know this, but prior to 2007, rangers under the purview of the Department of Fish and Game were forced to shoot motherless cubs because there was no rehabilitation alternative in Alaska. Killing a cub was kinder than forcing it to live on its own with a skillset it didn’t have. Better to die quick than die slowly of hunger.
Today, the Fortress hosts three black bears and six Alaskan Coastal brown bears, two of which were orphaned when their mother broke into a hotel kitchen and the chef was forced to defend himself.
I can’t wait to see them in person.
“How’d you settle in?” asks Jack.
“Fine. I have a great view from my apartment and it’s walkable to everything.”
“Yep. Lincoln Street’s the main drag, so to speak.” He stops at a light. “Got the library ‘cross the street too.”
“I saw that. I’ll go check it out later today.”
“Fortress of the Bear don’t open ‘til nine. Sure you want to go this early?”
“Mm-hm. I have an eight o’clock appointment to meet with, um…” I check my notes. “Heather. She’s the—”
“Head Keeper. Heather Haines.”
“You know her?”
“I know everyone.”
“Small island?”
“Real small come winter.”
He lays on the gas and we head out of downtown Sitka. Out the window to my right, there’s a large bay
and my eyes scan the dark blue water for whales, having read that they often breech the surface of Sitka Bay.
“Ever see any whales out there?” I ask Jack.
“Sure. Everyday near about. We got orcas and humpbacks. Few calves. Keep looking. You’ll see ‘em.” He clears his throat. “You a biologist?”
“Nope. I work for the Seattle Sentinel. I’m writing an article about the recent rise in bear attacks here in Sitka.”