Lost and Found at Christmas
Tags: Fiction, Challenge, Christmas, Creative Writing, Alaska

Lost and Found at Christmas

Photo by Victoria Crocker on Unsplash

This story is my response to a challenge I gave my writing group. To write a seasonal story with a theme of‘ ’lost and found at Christmas.’

Adam stoked the wood burning stove. It had served him well for the twenty years he lived in his remote cabin in the Alaskan wilderness. He had the knack of keeping it going overnight by precisely placing the air dried logs at the front of the stove as the flames at the back began to die. Unless there was a strong wind overnight which upset the draught flue, he always woke to a warm and cosy space. It helped that the living quarters were small and well insulated. There was a bedroom under the rafters, but he usually slept on the wide bench across the room from the stove during the coldest months. His companion, a German shepherd dog with greying muzzle, generally lay across his feet, snoring softly.

It wasn’t an easy life, but Adam had no regrets about leaving civilization and setting up on this small plot of land not far from a well stocked lake. There was no shortage of fish and he had perfected the skill of smoking fillets when he had caught more than he could eat in one sitting. He supplemented his diet with home grown vegetables in the spring and summer. There were eggs from his small flock of poultry when the daylight hours were adequate. As usual, they had stopped laying over winter and were kept indoors in a small barn he had built. Though he let them free range in the summer, it was risky as he found to his cost. Many were taken by predators.

His nearest neighbours, Alma and Bob, lived some ten miles away. They dropped by occasionally in the better weather, but like Adam, were holed up for the winter and pretty much snowed in by this time of year. They traded food stuffs and could always be relied upon to help if there was an emergency. Earlier in the year, Bob had shot a moose, so between them they were well stocked with meat. Adam had dried plenty to eat when it was just too cold to hunt.

When his marriage broke up all those years ago, it was a blessing in disguise. Adam had never felt comfortable on the executive ladder. Yes, he put his suit on in the mornings and commuted to work like all the other men who lived in that suburban development. The money was adequate and he and his wife, Maria, had a comfortable but unexciting life. When Jay was born, Adam tried to keep things going but he was increasingly unhappy. He yearned for the great outdoors, for summers in the outback hunting like he and his father used to do.

When he lost his job in the economic downturn and discovered that Maria was having an affair, all the frustrations of maintaining a façade of happiness were shattered. Maria had done a good job of turning the boy against him, telling the child what a loser his father was. When she upped and left taking Jay with her, aged 9, Adam knew whatever happened next was entirely in his own hands. The house had to be sold and there was certainly not enough money left to buy anything locally. This was his opportunity to move to Alaska, something he had been dreaming of for what seemed like the whole of his life.

He was lucky enough with the plot he bought and all those years of preparation for life in the wilderness were not lost because he kept folders of research and was well versed in the practicalities required. He built his cabin during the short summer and was comfortably settled in before the first snow storm. Life fell into a pattern which suited him well.

In the long summer evenings he would sit out on the porch listening to birdsong and watching the colours shift in the darkening skies. There was enough light to allow him to write in one of his many notebooks. As the years went by, he wrote more and more lyrical poetry, inspired by the cycle of nature and the solitude of his existence. He had sent some of his work back to an old school friend who taught literature in College. He had promised to edit for him and about six months ago, to Adam’s surprise, he had had an offer of publication from a prestigious publishing house. Poetry didn’t make much money, but every extra dollar would come in useful. His only other income was from selling smoked fish.

He missed Jay desperately in the early years but had become resigned to the fact that it was totally impractical to try to make contact. What did he look like? Did he do well at school? Did he go on to college? He had no way of finding out. He had left details with neighbours and some acquaintances about where he was going to live, but with no phone signal and no post there was little likelihood that he would hear anything. The general store in Fairbanks kept letters for him, but they were few and far between. That part of his life, twenty years ago was a distant memory.

Once a month, he took the snowmobile in the winter as far as the railway line, boarded the train and headed to Fairbanks. He bought essential supplies and ordered any necessary parts through Tom, the manager of the general store. He usually stayed overnight and had a chance to meet up with guys in the bar for a few drinks before heading back the next day. One day was enough. It was tiring, making conversation, when there was usually no-one but the dog to talk to from day to day.

The train company was a life line to Adam and the other off gridders. The drivers and conductors knew where they met the line at unofficial stops, looked out for them as they hailed the train like an overgrown taxi, and would deliver goods to the track side when required. It was the only way Adam could get letters back to town, and he sent smoked fish to the store to be sold every couple of weeks.

It was Christmas eve, and the last train would be coming through that afternoon. Adam had to meet it as he was expecting a delivery of timber. The snowmobile had been playing up and he spent a while checking the spark plugs. He replaced one and it started first pop. He set off with only a few minutes to spare.

As he arrived by the track side, the train appeared in the distance, slowing down as it approached. The doors opened in the freight car and the conductor and another man shifted Adam’s timber to the side of the rails. As Adam got closer, he hailed the conductor, Gerry, who knew him well. He guessed the other man was a passenger helping out, and was surprised when a large rucksack was unceremoniously thrown out. Gerry climbed back in and the doors closed. The train moved slowly away.

Adam stared at the tall young man.

‘Hello, Dad’.

‘Jay, is that you? How can that be? Jay? My God, I can see it now, you look so much like your Mum. What in hell’s name are you doing here’?

‘I’ve come to stay for Christmas, if that’s alright with you.’

Adam couldn’t quite grasp what was happening. He was overwhelmed with emotion. He stood for awhile silently, then with an almighty lurch ran forward and grabbed Jay and enveloped him in a bear hug, the like of which the young man had never experienced before.

‘Twenty years wondering about you, and you just turn up. How on earth did you know where to find me?’

‘I read a review about your poetry book in the paper. I contacted the publisher and told them you were my father and I wanted to get in touch with you. They gave me the number of the general store guy in Fairbanks. I phoned him and he said you were getting a delivery on the train today. So here I am!’

‘You better help me load up the timber and get back to the cabin. We’re gonna have a lot of talking to do.’

Anyone else like to take up the ‘lost and found at Christmas’ challenge?

Tree Langdon Agnes Laurens Liam Ireland Stuart Englander Emily Wilcox Terry Mansfield Geetika Sethi Julia E Hubbel Ntathu Allen Maria Rattray John Ross Dr John Rose Dr Jeff Livingston Dr Mehmet Yildiz Desiree Driesenaar