Grace Baik

Honors in Creative Writing

Co-winner – Edwin L. Shuman Award for Best Honors Thesis in Creative Writing

An excerpt from

The End (A Golden Shovel)

I did not mention Scylla, since she meant inevitable death

-Homer’s Odyssey, translated by Emily Wilson

 

December, 1922: Galle

 

I remember when.

 

It was after Christmas. We weren’t exactly rosy,

We chewed on walrus skin, tough and rubbery and fingered

On the fins. Downright inedible, I’d say. Come dawn,

I was real hungry. Of course, I came

North knowing stories, but boy, I sure felt bright

And Christmas-y and

Whatnot waking up that early.

I was cracking open the hardtack box just as

The north wall of our snow house blew off, heavy ice balls and all, and they

Tumbled straight off the island, I swear, yoked

To the winds of Aeolus or something and the

Dogs howled their furs off. Hit their kennels. Galloping horses

The books were, to

Charge some poor snow ghosts out there and the

Others were straight shook awake, even Ada, painted

Blue by the blitz of wind. No one could really move, like a carriage

On our chests. And

We crawled and barely drove

Through the ice in our undershirts, trying to stack a wall. Out

Of that Christmas, I knew from

Then, we were slapped to the

Cliff of choice, a rocky gate

Of the end, and

Then we dreamed of food across the sea, and I heard the ocean echoing

Like the Fourth of July cannons on a summer day porch.

 

 

January, 1923: Crawford

 

Solemnly, we pack the sled at negative fifty-six degrees, as if

We will return. Pens, papers, our journals, our maps of Wrangel, and then some.

Galle leaves his typewriter. Maurer prays to his Christian Science god.

 

In front of us, red strikes

The horizon, the first sunrise in months. Abide with me,

Ada sings, I need thy presence every passing hour. She carries on,

Lugging a box of hardtack, The–

Soon, we’ll be at home, dining and drinking wine.

 

Tomorrow, Galle and Maurer and I will start in the dark

And walk to Siberia, then Nome. Only eighty days on frozen sea,

 

I repeat, my gloves stiff on my ice-black fingers, I

Unload the sled, Galle tends the dogs, Maurer builds the igloo. Knight says, You will

Be fine. I nod. We endure

 

A silence. And lay in it.

 

February, 1923: Maurer

 

We’re here and                     there

 

It’s hard         to remember what is

 

What I am             a

 

Pause             and then time

Headed for

 

So many

Turns                      tales

 

I wanted to tell you  but

Who was it for          also

 

I mustn’t drown       a

It’s quite warm         I had no time

 

 

Once   for

Sleep