Point of Direction. Rachel Weaver

      

       More Praise for Point of Direction

      “Rarely do the interior landscapes of heart and mind reverberate with such power against the external world of glacier, water and wind as they do in Point of Direction. Rachel Weaver’s gripping story of two lovers plumbing the depths of their respective pasts, while struggling to survive in a lighthouse on a remote Alaskan island, wholly satisfies with breathtaking writing and raw emotional truth.” —Gail D. Storey, author of I Promise Not to Suffer: A Fool for Love Hikes the Pacific Crest Trail, winner of the National Outdoor Book Award

      “A riveting debut! When Anna and Kyle impulsively sign on to be caretakers of a lighthouse, they tell each other it is for adventure, but they are each running from and for their lives. The lighthouse is starkly situated on a remote island with a reputation for being the demise—physical, mental, or both—of all predecessors. Deeply rooted in sense of place, this powerful and moving literary novel explores how wilderness that enchants us also haunts us, with the very demons we bring to it. Point of Direction is a gripping and deeply satisfying story; I could not put it down.”

      —Elizabeth Wrenn, best-selling author of Second Chance

      “It is rare for an adventure story filled with so much tension and surprise to also inspire deep reflection and wonder, but Rachel Weaver’s debut novel, Point of Direction, fulfills everything desired from a good story. Anna and Kyle are complex characters with hidden secrets, but the biggest surprise is how much we learn about the people and landscape of Alaska through their story. In Weaver’s deft hands, the last frontier holds not just the assumed beauty and danger, but humor, resilience, and redemption.”

      —Claudia Manz Savage, author of The Last One Eaten: A Maligned Vegetable’s History

      

      Copyright © 2014 by Rachel Weaver

      All rights reserved.

      10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

      No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner without written permission of the publisher. Please direct inquires to:

      Ig Publishing

      392 Clinton Avenue

      Brooklyn, NY 11238

       www.igpub.com

      Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

      Weaver, Rachel, 1974-

      Point of direction / Rachel Weaver.

       1 online resource.

      Description based on print version record and CIP data provided by publisher; resource not viewed.

      ISBN 978-1-935439-93-6 (epub)

      1. Young women--Fiction. 2. Lighthouse keepers--Fiction. 3. Man-woman relationships--Fiction. 4. Alaska--Fiction. 5. Adventure fiction. 6. Psychological fiction. I. Title.

      PS3623.E386

      813’.6--dc23

      2014009293

      Contents

       Chapter 1

       Chapter 2

       Chapter 3

       Chapter 4

       Chapter 5

       Chapter 6

       Chapter 7

       Chapter 8

       Chapter 9

       Chapter 10

       Chapter 11

       Chapter 12

       Chapter 13

       Chapter 14

       Chapter 15

       Chapter 16

       Chapter 17

       Chapter 18

       Chapter 19

       Chapter 20

       Chapter 21

       Chapter 22

       Chapter 23

       Acknowledgments

       For Mike

1.

      WHEN HAZY outside light spills in through the heavy wooden door of the bar, we all turn. No one smiles but me. Kyle’s been out fishing for a little over a week, crewing on the Laura Ann. I leave the mugs in the soapy water and step into his arms.

      “Hi,” he says in my ear, his voice filling my body with heat.

      “How’d it go?” I pull back to search his face. One of his arms stays draped around my shoulders.

      He glances down at me and then away, his dark hair curling wildly, and pulls a crumpled check and a bigger, folded piece of paper out of his breast pocket. He tosses them both on the bar. “Two hundred fifty-nine dollars. That’s worse than the last two trips. There’s no salmon anywhere this year.”

      He peels off his thick rubber rain jacket and sits on the nearest bar stool. The wool jacket underneath has a new tear. The skin is pulled tight across his forehead.

      I return behind the bar and pour him a strong Jack and Coke.

      “No luck out there Kyle?” Charles asks from his usual seat at the end of the bar. He’s a regular. One of my few friends in town. His whole life has been lived against this cold gray Alaskan shore.

      “No,” Kyle answers.

      Charles shakes his head, a slow scratching of white whiskers against his wool collar. “Used to be wild in here when I was your age. We’d all get back, pockets full of money, lines of coke on the bar, one drunk after another ringing the bell.” He continues shaking his head. “Money to burn back then.” He takes a long swallow of gin and turns, head a little loose, toward Kyle. “You wouldn’t know anything about it.” Charles lets out a slow chuckle. He’s been at the bar most of the day.

      Kyle gives me a flat look, takes a long drink of his whiskey. I go back to loading beer mugs into a dish rack. I notice again the girl at the pool table, her long black ponytail draped over her shoulder just so, and I want her to leave. The likeness bothers me. I slip my hand into the front pocket of my jeans, where I keep the phone number.

      “What about something new, Anna?” Kyle asks, pulling my attention back to him.

      “You want something different to drink?” He always drinks Jack and Cokes.

      “No. This,” Kyle says as he slides the folded piece of paper toward me. “Let’s do it.”

      I unfold the paper, notice the tape on the top from wherever he tore it down. It’s a notice from the Coast Guard. They are looking for someone to move out to the Hibler Rock Lighthouse.

      I