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Girl in Ice(48)

Author:Erica Ferencik

She drew me into a huddle, brought her forehead close to mine, touched my hair thoughtfully with cocoa-sticky fingers. Face full of anticipation, she whispered the word to me again, syllable by syllable as if to say, Really, you finally understand? Pointed at the beat-up image on the paper.

Translated literally, the word meant “the necessity of understanding nature—in all its complexity—to stay alive,” but it was also shorthand for Let’s find the things we need to stay alive, or, These are the sacrifices we need to make to stay alive.

Somehow this Inuit word was a part of her lexicon. I felt like a person emerging from a dark cave, granted a glimpse of sun.

“You need this to stay alive”—I pointed at the paper—“this seaweedy thing, is that right?”

She gestured at the spare suit.

“You want me to…” I glanced at the hole.

She nodded vigorously.

“You guys ready?” Nora called over to us. “He’s all set.”

I knelt and looked Sigrid in the eye, her sweet face glowing with excitement and impatience. “Sigrid, thanks for saying that word. I can’t put the suit on right now, but I will. I promise, okay? Let’s go watch Seal Man.”

I pointed at Raj, and she looked disappointed but followed me to the hole. Slushy water sluiced against its sides.

“How cold is it?” I asked.

“Barely above freezing.” Raj made final adjustments to his face mask, shook out his arms, quivered his legs. “Honestly? You’re never exactly cozy down there. It’s always a borderline situation, staying warm. Quick dives, always keep moving, that’s the key.”

“Darling, are you ready?” Nora said with quiet intimacy, checking his gear a final time.

Below us, the dull cry of the ice, the screech of the Dome’s supporting poles as they scraped against it. The place felt so barren—just folding chairs, a few tables, some movable shelves, a heater strapped to supporting poles a few feet off the floor, and a couple of cots pushed together—surprisingly little attention paid to any comforts at all, Raj’s mat the only splash of warmth in the place. I suddenly missed trees, the way they shelter you, the way they wrap you in their arms even though they never touch you.

“All set,” Raj said. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Nora said.

He got down to the rubber mats that covered most of the ice floor and scooted over to the hole. Dropped his flippered feet and legs into the water. Wasting no time, he folded his arms across his chest and slipped in with a small splash. He bobbed there a second or two, tank pinging against the sides of the hole. Without another word, he fit in his mouthpiece, gave Nora a thumbs-up, and dropped down into the cold blue eye.

“How long will he…”

“This is an eight-minute dive,” Nora said, staring down after him. “Ten max.”

“It’s not possible that I would ever do this,” I said.

“The worst part is going to oxygen,” she said thoughtfully. “After that, the biggest danger is getting so blown away by the beauty or weirdness of everything down there you lose track of time.”

An old-fashioned kitchen timer with a big second hand ticked off the numbers on the dial. Nora clicked on the mic. “Raj, how’s it going?”

His voice was garbled. “Good. Twenty-three feet. Murky. Out.”

“Roger that,” she said into the mic.

A thud. A dragging sound. Sigrid had climbed to the table from a chair and knocked the heavy diving suit from its hook. She hopped to the floor, grabbed the suit by one creepy red glove, and hitched it bit by bit across the mats. Dropped the cumbersome pile of rubber at my feet. One of its neoprene hands lay with a loose grip at my ankle, like a dying man crawling across a desert grabbing at me for a glass of water.

“Guess she wants you to dive,” Nora said with a laugh.

“Sigrid,” I said as gently as I could, stepping away from the suit. “I’m no seal woman. No, okay?”

Undaunted, she seized my hand and led me to the stool Raj had sat on to prepare. I let her push me down into it, amused as she wrestled with one of the floppy legs of the suit, trying to ease it over my boot.

“Really, Sigrid?”

“Maybe just put it on,” Nora said. “Make her happy. You don’t have to dive. But we can go through the steps for fun.”

I kicked off my boots, wriggled my toes and smiled. Sigrid struggled to fit the heavy, awkward fabric over my socks.

“It’s okay,” Nora said to Sigrid, getting down on the floor with her. “We’re going to get Val sorted in no time.”

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