“eXPECTATIONS”

Since when did airports get so crowded? It's like a zoo on a weekend. People seem to just want something to do. Arthur thought to himself while sitting on the ledge of the terminal window. Across from him sitting comfortably, Arthur's wife Lucy, with a book in hand, half the pages drawn back behind its spine. She could make any stool, seat or chair seem as if it is one that belongs to her. She adapts to things well. Or do things just adapt to her well? Either way, questions like these are something that rarely crossed her mind. They just didn’t. But they did for Arthur. Arthur and Lucy met in their junior year of high school, as they’ve been ever so intertwined since. The school being a small one, sitting just outside of central Michigan, in a small town named Weidman. Only about three-hundred total kids within all grades. A thickly drawn, blue husky as their mascot. Go Huskies. The upper Midwest is all they've known since being children, as an entwined mahogany and evergreen nature had always been the backdrop in their everyday lives. Seen plenty of deer, raccoons, hawks and occasional junkyard dogs, but never the wildlife and scenery that an other worldly place like Alaska had to offer. 

The first mention of the possibility of traveling to Alaska between the two, was while smoking a short, golf-tee sized, generously seeded joint on the roof of the dorm room complex “E”. That was their sophomore year at Eastern Michigan University. Also coming up in the same conversation, Lucy’s first mention of a minute dream of witnessing the presence of a moose one day before she passes. Lucy's parents had always said that their folks often mentioned that there were indeed Moose just north of where they were in Michigan. But Lucy, nor the family, ever spotted one. All people have their favorite animal and if they say they don't, they're lying. It's in that head of theirs somewhere, it just needs to be dug out of the inner youth within them. An inner youth that is not lost, but has just taken a backseat to adulthood's driver. Moose were Lucy's, Eagles were Arthur's.

Since that discussion on that roof, the topic of traveling to Alaska had always occasionally come up, all the way through their thirty-eight years of marriage. They never did get the chance to make the trip, as the time was never right. Some things are pursued, some things pass. That's just how time works. But it wasn't until their middle son Carter, who now had four kids of his own, convinced them to finally make the trip up, buying them two round trip tickets as a Christmas gift. The trip was originally scheduled for two weeks, but happened to coincide within a week of Arthur's cardiologist visit, which was long over-do. So the trip was shrunken to just six days. Six days to be spent in Fairbanks. As they now sit in the airport patiently, yet eagerly waiting to board their flight on Air Alaska.

The last hour or so of the flight heading into Alaskan territory had been one of the best views witnessed to the eye of Arthur. Thirty-five thousand feet above, looking down on a terrain that one won't forget. Lucy didn't mind not having a car while there, but Arthur did. As he previously exclaimed, 

“I want to be able to get around with ease,” he told her. 

“There’s shuttles and our feet for that,” she responded. 

Arthur leaned backward in his accustomed brown leathered sofa chair so Lucy would hear him in the kitchen, 

“If I don’t walk to get around here, I won't be doing it in Alaska.” 

Lucy, tailored to her business saying, 

“You never know.” 

A habitual saying of hers. They picked up a car anyway of course. 

It took about twenty-three minutes to get from the airport to the quaint, yet comfortable cabin they would be staying in for the next six days. Arthur had always timed things like this. If they had not been timed out loud, an internal clock had been stopping and starting ever since he hit the age of forty-five. It was nighttime when they had gotten in, a quarter to eleven, but the clouds still showed. Arthur and Lucy both enjoyed their presence, as something about it felt different. They couldn’t put their nose on it, just about everything felt different about this land. 

It was just about fifty degrees, which surprised them, thinking it would be a lot colder. It had barely been spring. Or at least it felt that way. Despite being seasoned to this type of weather, they unpacked their bags, made two hot cups of decaffeinated coffee, no sugar, and settled into bed. Sharing the view of a rectangle-shaped pamphlet of the things to do while they were there. Both dozing off before they hit the third page.  

Arthur woke up in the morning to the sound of Lucy pouring her second cup of coffee. Noticing the presence of a slight headache, but nothing major. The three-hour time difference had to be the culprit. Or possibly something in the air when they flew in last night. Arthur rarely got headaches and can't remember the last time he did get one. It was late in Arthur’s book, around half past eight. 

“Why didn't you wake me up?” Arthur asked. 

“I thought I'd let you get a little more rest, with the time change and all,” Lucy responded. 

Lucy handed him the cup she had just poured for herself and went to grab the empty one sitting upside down on the wooden counter. 

“Seems to have not affected you,” Arthur said. 

She shrugged her shoulders saying, 

“Not really, just a slight headache when I woke up. Passed about twenty minutes ago though.” 

Arthur’s headache did the same.

The sky was dim, but the sun still shined. A diner with a purple toned neon sign, sporting a bold lettered font about two miles away, caught both their eyes on the drive over the night before. As they headed there for some much-needed breakfast. Most diners look the same wherever you go, thought Arthur. They sat at the counter as they often did and ordered the same thing, as they often did as well. A friendly, lengthy, long-brown haired woman with a slight limp served them, as they got to talking quite quickly. 

“You two from out of town?” She mentioned. 

“How’d ya know?” Arthur responded with a grin. 

She smiled saying, 

“The car you pulled up in, not many locals have them. But they rent them out to visitors.” 

They went on to speak about the Midwest and the time or two the waitress had passed through there. Lucy asked her questions about the area, ones the woman hadn't heard before. One being about the moose. 

“Oh yeah I’ve seen them.” She said, “Even seen them come through in the back here, early in the mornings when I've had to open the place. Last one I saw was about four months ago. Or was it three? Either way, I've seen them.” 

She had been working there for twenty-eight years. Arthur asked about the dark sky, as the women went on to explain that there had been no rain in the forecast, but the cook in the back mentioned that it was coming. As not only did he feel it in his bum shoulder, that according to him, “Could feel incoming weather”, but also subsequently, he saw it on the news that morning. 

It was now supposed to rain every day in the next coming days. Rain wasn't something that scared Arthur and Lucy, or even bothered them. But some sunshine would have been nice. The first thing they did in which they had planned, was to fish. Arthur was never one to fish that often, even though he sure looked it. The guide even exclaimed to him, 

“You must know your way around a pole.” 

Lucy was the one who had done more fishing than Arthur, having done plenty of it on family trips to Minnesota a couple of times a year in her childhood. Although her family lived near a pond, they rarely brought out the poles and tackle box from the upward shelf in their garage, until they crossed state lines. Arthur once asked her, 

“I wonder why that is?”. 

Lucy responded in her usual tone, 

“Couldn't tell ya, it's just how it was.” 

They didn't catch anything special that day, but the views made up for that. 

The next morning, they decided to try a new breakfast spot a couple miles down the road. A bust, as Arthur's father would say. They would be eating their eggs and toast at the first spot for their remaining days. They drove two hours to walk along the trails below Mount Denali. On the hike with a guide and a few other tourists, who were not very chatty. Arthur and Lucy didn't mind this. In fact, they preferred it. Arthur didn't want to bring up the higher probability of seeing a moose, as he knew Lucy would see it as a jinx. Although she didn't declare herself a superstitious person, she was. Arthur knew that. He couldn't help but be distracted most of the hike, locking his eyes on the peak of Denali. If in some miracle I were to get to the top of that mountain, I’m not sure I would ever come down, he thought to himself. 

Although no moose were spotted the previous day, they had a good chance the following. A boat tour along the Chena river. They calmly watched the flow of the river, as they spotted the occasional kayaker or two passing by. Something Arthur and Lucy wouldn't do personally. They prefer to be the passenger, not the captain of their own ship. Arthur and Lucy were never very adventurous people and were okay with that. But what describes adventurous exactly? They had done plenty of road trips with their boys throughout the years, hitting the traditional U.S. landmarks. Disney World, the Grand Canyon, Mount Rushmore and some occasional stops along the way. But never sought much else of what was outside their hub in Michigan. And they were alright with that. Wouldn't call it at ease with it, but no desire was ever beheld to “explore”. They were happy where they were in their mind. Why leave? 

Toward the end of the tour, they spotted a bald eagle in the sky. Arthur being the one to spot it first. 

“I see the white head,” he said aloud. 

Lucy was always astonished at how good his eyes were. That and his memory. Could tell you the score of his 12u basketball game, along with who guarded him. 

Get him talking about it enough, could go on to tell you where the team ate afterward. Lucy couldn't help but innately match a smile of her own to Arthur’s. As she knew what those birds meant to him. While Lucy and the others were distracted by the view, Arthur approached the guide and asked about the possibility of a moose sighting. 

“They come and go, and it's pretty likely you’ll spot one while you're here. But you can never be too sure about anything,” said the guide. 

I guess you really can’t, Arthur thought to himself. 

They didn't that day. Or the next. Or the next. Not that that was the reason why they had gone on the trip in the first place, but in a way, it was. No spoken word about it, but they both knew. There wasn't an expectation in place, but dammit there was in some way. Expectations are often held sacred to a person. They hide it, as if they were to let it go, it would be deemed to change. Are we entitled to having expectations? Is it a form of unharmful narcissism? An infringement of hope?  Or in this case, just the track record of the animal in the state? Who knows? As Lucy would say, but Arthur did begin to see a slight wearied demeanor upon Lucy. Not that the energy of the trip was diminished, but there was a sense of an accompanied drop within the hope of seeking the animal. A day out from their final day, they were supposed to drive a couple of hours away to go on a hike, but it rained heavily when they woke up, continuing all the way into the afternoon. Bordering un-hikable. So they stayed in. 

Arthur went out to fetch some groceries, as they now planned to stay in and make some food for themselves. Something they hadn't planned on doing. On the way back, picking up two bags worth of groceries, he spotted a small nature museum through the heavy rain. He pulled aside and parked the car. He walked through the rain and approached the door where he took a peer inside. He couldn't see much, as most of the lights were off. All but one in the deep northwest corner. He knocked, not knowing exactly why, but he did. A few moments later, a man in a beige colored button-down shirt with a weathered collar and cuffs, came out with a cup of coffee in hand. Looking as if he was just reading the paper and the knock had interrupted a crossword puzzle or two. He opened the door and welcomed Arthur inside right away, 

“Come in, come in'' he said, wanting Arthur to stay as dry as possible. “Rain snuck up on us, huh?” he continued, as he turned his back and began to walk. 

“Yeah, it did.” Arthur said as if he had been a local himself. “Are ya closed today?” 

The man responded, 

“We tend to close on heavy weathered days like this. But you're welcome to look around. I'll toss the lights on for you. I'll be in the back if you need anything.” 

He walked back to the lit corner and the rest of the lights came up a few seconds later. The man's genuine agaze and hospitality reminded Arthur of the folks in the Midwest. Something familiar. Something human. Good people are just about everywhere you go, Arthur thought to himself.  

Arthur strolled around, as it started with mostly plant life. He read every plaque, not skipping over a single word. The older you get, the more words you read it seems. Why the rush? Right as it got into the Animal section, that's when Arthur saw it. In its own corner, with its own light, standing behind a thin layer of glass. A stuffed moose standing powerfully, within some weathered brush and a mountain painted backdrop. Animals that were stuffed and taxidermy usually gave Arthur an ingenuine feeling, as if something was cheated. But something was different about this one. This moose, in this state, in this place, looked as if it lived a good life. 

A long life. There wasn't anything wrong about it. Could picture it out and about. Arthur at that moment understood why Lucy had adored them so much. It had a certain presence. Strong, empowered, beautiful. Arthur wasn't one to shed tears, and he didn’t at this moment. But they did indeed come only about a half an hour later, when he came back to this very spot, alongside Lucy. 

Lucy sat on the brown leathered couch in the cabin, with a quilted blanket resting upon her knees. Watching an old film. It had been the first thing that popped up when she turned on the TV originally, one she remembers. Couldn't put her nose to its name. It had been a film she had seen when she was a child, with her blind grandmother who watched movies religiously. Lucy had once asked her mother why her grandma enjoyed watching movies, although she couldn't see them. Her mother had guessed that she liked placing her own images in her head while listening to the words and music. Create her own movies. From there on out, Lucy would close her eyes and do this while watching with her grandma. I wonder if we ever think of the same images? Lucy had often thought while watching alongside her grandmother. She even thought of it now. Just as the name of the film was on the tip of her mind, Arthur opened the front door. 

Arthur didn't tell Lucy where they were going, but had only said, 

“It won't be too long, we’ll eat afterwards.”

Lucy didn't feel like getting up, but she did anyway. Arthur pulled the car as close to the cabin porch as he could, as Lucy put her coat hood up, trying to beat the rain into the passenger seat. The ride over was silent. Although the rain was heavy and quite loud hitting the roof of the car, the drive over felt calm to Lucy. Arthur had felt the same thing. He pulled to the closest spot to the door within the empty parking lot, as he told Lucy to wait. He made his way around to her door and opened it for her. Stretching his coat over her head and his own to block the rain. The lights were on this time, along with the one in the back corner. Arthur knocked on the door with a force, so the man in the back would hear him. The man had expected them, but Arthur didn’t want to intrude. He knocked again. Although the rain was loud and Arthur's coat had covered the majority of their ears, both Lucy and Arthur heard the man's voice from the back, 

“It’s open!”