Chapter 9: Unstaffed

The radio came on at seven the next morning, on Christmas Eve, with a hiss.

Astrid sat at the table with her hand on the dial and her jaw set.

I stood by the stove in her flannel shirt with a mug of coffee, and my heart was pounding.

"Seagull Creek station," a man's voice crackled. "This is district dispatch. Dahlberg, are you reading me?"

"I read you," Astrid said.

"Good. I've called you every night this week."

"I know."

"You've been turning me off."

"I know that too."

The man sighed, and the sound was tired and kind.

"Astrid, I'm calling about the notice. The new ranger takes over the station on the twenty-eighth."

"I read the notice."

"Then you know what it means. The cabin gets reassigned. You can't be there."

I set my mug down very carefully.

"I know," Astrid said again, and her voice was flat.

"You turned in your badge on April thirtieth," the man said. "You've had no authority at that station for eight months."

The cabin went completely quiet.

Moose whined faintly from the shed, and the stove ticked.

"I know," Astrid said. "Thank you for not coming up here to say it in person."

"I let you stay because of Mae. I'll keep letting you stay until the twenty-eighth. After that I can't."

"I understand."

"One more thing." The man hesitated. "The snowmobile permit expired in September. If you run that machine again, I'll have to write it up."

"I haven't run it."

"Good," the man said. "I mean that. Merry Christmas, Astrid."

"Merry Christmas."

She switched off the radio and sat with her palm flat on the set.

I waited, because I knew if I spoke first I would say something I could not take back.

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