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“Shore is cold ‘round here,” said Windy, stirring in
more sugar. “Went out this morning to the pick ‘em=up truck and half
my farkels were dang near froze off ‘fore I got that heater a-goin.”
“I hear ya,” said Dud.
“Lose more farkels that way,” added Doc.
“Is farkels a medicine word, Dod?”
“Not really, but it says what you want to say when it’s this cold.”
The talk went along through two refills, a side of bacon and a short
stack.
“Bet it don’t get no colder’n this in Alaska,” said Dud.
“You’d be wrong,” said Emma, she of the kind smile carrying the
ready coffee pot.
“Spent five years up there. Down here in winter, you get cold. Up
there in winter, you get dead.”
She had our rapt attention.
“You mean chill factors and stuff like that?” asked Doc.
“Nope,” Emma said. “Want me to warm that cup for you, Steve?”
Steve nodded. Cup appropriately topped off.
[to top of second
column] |
She set the coffee pot down on
the next table, which was empty. “They invented ways to kill people
up there. In winter, it’s the williwaw.”
“Willy-what?”
“Williwaw. It’s a wind, sorta,” she said. “And if it hits you, you
probably are going to die. It starts up at the top of a mountain and
blows straight down a slope into whatever’s at the bottom. Blew one
guy clear across Cook Inlet to the other side. The police said if
the inlet hadn’t been frozen over, he’d have drowned.”
“Well, that was a lucky thing, wasn’t it?”
“It woulda been if he hadn’t froze to death on the way down.”
[Text from file received from
Slim Randles]
Brought to you by
Slim’s book “Strange Tales of Alaska,’ which may be found on
Amazon.com.
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