See-Kow-Me-Took

Everything, it seems, is on the barge. The ice came in early this year--a full month earlier than last--trapping the barges in towns which were not their final destinations. Wedding dresses, snowmobiles, building supplies, furniture, and case upon case of pop.

He has a girlfriend and two young children, and his truck is on a barge. It's not his truck, rather it belongs to the company for which he works. He knows it's there, has photographs, like many others do of the things on the barges. Photographs of objects rendered intangible by distance, nature, and impossible Arctic logistics.

His family isn't on the barge, but they might as well be. Not terribly far when referring to a map, but inaccessible, removed enough to nearly not exist. She doesn't care about the things on the barges. They are just things, and she doesn't feel their absence, only the inconveniences that their absence cause for her. Initially, she feels the same way about his children.

It has become a bit of a joke or at least a stock answer of sorts to every question asked. Where is the office furniture? Where are the tools? Where are the toilets? Where is the photocopier? Has anyone seen my sister? Why can't you get wholewheat bread in this shithole town? The answer is simple, and always the same: "See kow me took". It's on the barge.

At first, it is frustrating. The barges nearly make it to town before getting turned around, and there is hope for a few days that a thaw might occur. It does not. Eventually, it becomes apparent that the items are trapped, not to be received until the summer, a full year after being ordered. Once this sinks in, it becomes a joke. The waiting is over, and people move on, able to survive without the things they thought they needed. They move on, planning to sell the snow machines still on the barge in favor of next year's model. No-one seems to notice how funny it all is--a culture seemingly averse to planning for anything in advance, planning obsessively, only to have it consistently derailed by predictably unpredictable weather. Sometimes, it makes her laugh to herself. Then again, it isn't her wedding dress stuck on a barge, just out of reach.

At first, it's innocent. In fact, it's innocent for the better part of a year. But one day, something changes. His truck is still on the barge, he still comes into town every once in a while, but something changes. She wonders if perhaps he'd been eyeing her all along, because she's never met anyone who falls in love as quickly as she does. But he does, and has. Suddenly, his children are real. Their absence is problematic, but not like a missing toilet or ATV. It is problematic because they are real, and they matter, suddenly. Suddenly, and somehow, she might love them. Not like a missing wedding dress.

He is as far away as the barge, but in the opposite direction. He is barely less abstract than the truck, but he is absolutely real. He has a girlfriend and 2 young boys and his truck is still on the barge, but he is not.