Corky and the Alaskan Oldtimer

By Bill Richardson

Corky, a lady airplane operator in Southcentral Alaska, is trying to unravel the mystery of Nels Nelsen, an Alaskan oldtimer and miner that lives in the Iliamna Lake region. He is an unusual individual who protects his privacy and only trusts Corky to deliver his valuable gold to Anchorage. While unraveling the clues, unexpected events forever change her life. Without sex, violence, or cussing!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Bill Richardson
• Release date: Nov 25, 2012
• ISBN: 9780988531154

Bill Richardson

Bill Richardson, winner of the Stephen Leacock Medal for Humour and former CBC Radio personality, is the author of numerous books for both adults and children, including plays, poetry, and fiction.

Book preview

Corky and the Alaskan Oldtimer

An Alaskan Adventure Mystery

by

Bill Richardson

Copyright 2012 by William C. Bill Richardson

Cover image copyright 2009 by Bill Richardson

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be

reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed

or electronic form without permission.

Third Edition: Feb. 2015

Printed in the United States of America

ISBN: 978-0-9885311-5-4

Table of Contents

Chapter 1 - The Recovery

Chapter 2 - Birds, Bears, and Goats

Chapter 3 - Ellen Pointer

Chapter 4 - The Frenchmen

Chapter 5 - Homer Hospital

Chapter 6 - Nels the Oldtimer

Chapter 7 - Glaciers and Mountains

Chapter 8 - Gold

Chapter 9 - The Old Ways

Chapter 10 - Tutna Lake

Chapter 11 - Vandalism

Chapter 12 - The Inspectors

Chapter 13 - Mrs. Miranda

Chapter 14 - The Telephone Call

Chapter 15 - The Meeting

Chapter 16 - Nels' Package

Chapter 17 - Nels' Country

Chapter 18 - Rudy

Chapter 19 - Mark's Surprise

Chapter 20 - Spirits

Chapter 21 - The Lawyer

Chapter 22 - Sven

Chapter 23 - The Oldtimer

Another book by the author

Chapter 1 - The Recovery

"It’s another beautiful morning," Corky thought, as she looked at the rugged Kenai Mountain tops from the Homer Hospital parking lot. The small white building had been built on a hill that provided not only a panoramic view of the coastal mountain range, but also of the four-and-a-half-mile-long, narrow strip of land, called the Homer Spit. The natural barrier jutted straight from the mainland into the deep waters of twenty-mile-long Kachemak Bay. Those mountain peaks look like they’re covered with powdered sugar from the year’s first snowfall. I hope Mark has looked out his window to see this wonderful sunrise and view. After a few moments she turned from the majestic scene and entered the Hospital’s Main Entrance.

Quietly, she walked into her friend’s room and saw that he was propped up with pillows and appeared to be asleep. For several minutes she just watched him and realized he had become more than a good friend. Somehow, I’ve got to find out how he feels about me, but I guess I don’t need to be in a hurry about that. I do need to tease him, though, about those white bandages covering his right shoulder and the red mark on his forehead. They make him look like a cartoon character. Hopefully, those are the only plane crash injuries he’ll have to deal with. Reaching over to him, Corky took hold of his hand. Instantly, Mark opened his eyes, smiled, and responded with a long gentle squeeze before softly saying, Good morning, gorgeous. Neither of them turned the other loose.

Morning, Lazy Bones. Have you seen the beautiful sunrise?

Indirectly, as I’ve watched the colors change inside the room.

Corky smiled back and asked, You ready to start flying, my friend?

Absolutely, I’m ready to fly, but with this shoulder wrapped up I can’t flap both arms, Mark responded with a grin.

Well, you still have your humor, which is a good sign that at least part of your brain must be working okay, she teased. So, Mr. Donnelly, did you talk with the doctor this morning?

I did, and he said that this shoulder wrap could come off in a few days. With exercises, it should be in good shape, and he doesn’t think I have a concussion from hitting the instrument panel. The slight disorientation is temporary and should go away anytime; but if it doesn’t, we’ll deal with it then. Thanks to you, Miss Corcoran, I’m here. I owe you big time, he stated and squeezed her hand again.

No, you don’t. I’m just so glad we both made it, Corky replied as she leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. Mark moved his cheek against hers and they were still enjoying the moment when a woman’s voice filled the room.

Excuse me, oh mighty crash survivors.

Corky immediately stood up, looked at the source of the voice, and smiled. After a quick squeeze of Mark’s hand, she turned it loose and headed for the lady. Cora! Come in, come in, she said excitedly and walked over to her sister.

After a warm hug, Cora held Corky at arm’s length and said, Thanks for calling me last night, Corky. I’ve been so worried about both of you. I would have been here sooner, but the Nikolaevsk Road is a mess from the rain. As Cora moved over and touched his arm, she asked, Mark, my good friend, how are you doing?

"Hi, Cora. Thanks for coming to see me. I’m doing fine and after my shoulder heals, I’ll be able to fly again.

And how are you doing? Sorry we missed your birthday, Mark replied in a rush of words.

Well, a bad excuse would have been better than having to go through an airplane crash, she stated with a smile. And besides, your plane cost more than a birthday present, which I don’t need anyway. So my present is that you two are safe. My tall and handsome Russian husband said to tell that short non-Russian Irishman to get well. Cora remarked.

Mark replied with, Agus féadfaidh sé do biotáillí a bheith i gcónaí cinn maith!

Corky and Cora looked surprised. That was cool, but what was it? Cora asked.

A bit of Irish for something like: ‘And may your spirits always be good ones’.

I didn’t know you could speak Irish, me boy! Now, what can I do to help?

Mark looked at Corky, and then spoke directly to her, You and I haven’t talked about it yet, but I have three charter flights that need to be completed. Since I’m going to be laid up for awhile, I wonder if you could finish them. What do you think?

Of course I will, Mark. I was going to ask you about that today. I have a couple of charters of my own to fly in the next few days and I’ll just incorporate yours into the calendar. That gives us a day or two to figure out where you’re going to stay until you’re much improved. You won’t be chopping wood or driving for awhile until that shoulder heals. Well there’s plenty of room at my cabin, especially in the wood shed, Corky teased, and then added, I won’t be available to help you everyday while I’m doing the flying. Until the rest of our friends get back from fishing and hunting no one will be able to check on you at either place.

Well, I think the answer is simple enough, Cora quickly responded. You stay at my place in Nikolaevsk until you can get accommodations in Homer. With a twinkle in her eyes she looked at Corky, and then at Mark.

If that works for everybody, let’s do that. I’m grateful for the support, he said.

Then it’s a done deal. I’ll come into town everyday to check on you until you’re released. The road will be passable until the next rain, if it occurs again, before freeze-up. The temperature is forecast to be below freezing in a day or two, and that will definitely firm up the road, Cora declared. Is there anything I can get for you from your place, Mark?

How about getting me a change or two of clothes? The door is unlocked. And please take all the food that you can find in the fridge, okay?

Done. I’m outta here. I’ll see you tomorrow, Irishman, Cora said as she leaned over and gave Mark a hug good-by.

Thanks, Cora. I’ll give you a call tonight to let you know what Mark and I decide about the charters. Love ya, Corky stated. As the two hugged, Cora whispered in her sister’s ear, Nice catch. Corky said nothing, but gave her sister an extra squeeze.

After her sister left, Corky moved a chair over to Mark’s bed and sat in it as he slowly moved his hand towards her. Without any hesitation, she reached for it and held it gently with both of hers.

Let’s talk about your charter flights so I can call Marian to reschedule anything we need to change. And then you get as much rest as you can, she directed. Marian was Corky and Mark’s friend and business associate who managed their two flying services and most of the paperwork.

Mark nodded and responded quietly, Let’s start with the sheep hunter, Jim Peters who is from Ketchikan, is at Green Lake. He is a friendly man and a savvy hunter. However, the three sports fishermen, Alain, Bertrand and Claire, from France, who are at Lower Copper Lake, are arrogant and poorly equipped. The husband and wife team, Paul and Angela Coleman, at Tutna Lake, are international trophy hunters and well prepared for a remote adventure. Remember to charge your time and costs to me. If you want, you can use my 206 instead of yours. If you can find my Super Cub and get it repaired quickly, you’re welcome to use it, he teased while smiling. I kept my insurance paid up, so I need to check on filing a claim for that crashed plane real soon.

I’ll use my planes, and I’m not going to give you any numbers, Mark. You’d help me without any hesitation. The flights will be completed on time so don’t worry about them. I’m real glad you’re okay. Now relax and try to get as much rest as you can before Cora puts you to work. Just before leaving the room, Corky gave Mark another kiss on the cheek, squeezed his hand, and left.

At the post office, she picked up her mail of two bills and two package slips and stepped to the postal counter for the boxes. Knowing that the postmistress didn’t like the call bell to be more than barely tapped, Corky tried to push the button gently. The mail lady had a reputation for being cranky when anyone hit the bell too hard, or hit it more than once. A few people made a point of coming and just pounding the bell to irritate the short, older lady. After a few long minutes and just before Corky started to tap the bell again, an older woman with thin blond hair ambled in from the small mailroom that was only a few feet away. The blue-eyed postal worker peered over the top of her gray thin-wired glasses and proceeded to rapidly fire off a series of questions about her typically incorrect understanding of local events.

You moving around okay, Corky? I heard that you and that Donnelly fellow fell off a cliff and the plane landed on top of you. Is that true? How in the world did that happen? You don’t look injured. Were you injured? What were the two of you doing on that cliff anyway? Was he trying to hurt you?

Wow, rumors sure travel fast in this small town. And this lady loves being at a place where everyone comes and talks about everybody else. No matter what I try to clarify with her, she’ll tell people whatever strikes her mood at the time. Oh well.

Hi, Mrs. Miranda. I’m okay. We were on a sightseeing trip, the plane crashed, and we got out before it went over a cliff. Mark Donnelly is in the hospital for a short time with minor injuries. I’ve two packages to pick up, and how are you doing?

I’m fine, Corky. Be alert, young lady. Don’t be falling for a fellow wanting to take you on some kind of a joy ride. Humph! Those two packages are heavy. I’ll put them at the side door for you. Meet ya’ there, Mrs. Miranda directed, as she took the two slips and slowly proceeded back to her huge world in the small mailroom.

At the side door, Corky lifted one package and had started walking to her dusty truck when Mrs. Miranda stated with a quiet, motherly tone. Corky, there’s a newcomer in town, a lady pilot, named Ellen Pointer. She asked me what I knew about you. Well, of course, I’m proud of what you do, and I told her you were a successful pilot. Then she wanted to know where you fly to, how much you charge, and who you fly for. She sounded awful sneaky to me. I said those details are for Corky to talk about, not me, as I stay out of other people’s business. My, oh my, did she get upset when I said that. The woman started telling me I was supposed to inform her of what I knew as I worked for the government. On the way out, she slammed the door, then got in her truck, and drove out of here real fast. Look over there and you can see some of my white Shasta flowers are broken down, and the those pretty red leaves on the Cotoneasters got a beating from the gravel she spread at my flower beds. You be careful around her, my dear.

Thank you, Mrs. Miranda, for your concern. I’ve never met the woman, but I’ll be careful, and you take care of yourself, too. Okay? Corky said, as she picked up the last box. Mrs. Miranda gave Corky a quick, barely visible smile and closed the package delivery door. I wonder who this Ellen Pointer lady is. Why is she interested in me?

Corky read the address on each package: Rudy Chernoskvi, Care of Corky Corcoran and knew from experience that Nels Nelsen, the Oldtimer, was the actual recipient. Nels had his packages delivered to Rudy in Igiugig instead of to himself. She slid the boxes a little further into the pickup bed so she could close the tailgate. Just as it closed, a dust cloud erupted off the bumper and flew by her face. Once winter is here and the road dust settles down, this truck is getting a good wash. I’m sure there must be some color under all that dirt.

In a few moments, she was back in the truck and headed to the local grocery store: George’s Food-town. The establishment was real busy with people coming and going or just visiting with each other. Since it was the only business within forty miles that offered more than cigarettes and soda pop, the old building and business was a familiar and frequent stopping spot for the local residents. The wooden floors were worn smooth from years of being walked on, and the air had a comfortable smell of oldness that people enjoyed. Bars of pine tar soap and old bottles of laundry bluing agents were still available. Despite its misleading name, bluing agents made clothes brighter and whiter.

Corky only needed a few items; most of her time was spent talking with friends who asked about her and Mark’s survival adventure, or just to chit-chat about local gossip, or somebody’s moose hunt, or whatever came to mind. And as the two checkout clerks talked with everybody, everyone knew to be patient during the checkout process.

It sure takes awhile to get through this line, but at least I get to talk with a lot of my friends and some of the local oldtimers when I shop here. The Anchorage stores are too noisy and stressful.

The shopping took about thirty minutes before Corky made it back to her truck and headed home. The dirt two-lane road had plenty of sharp-edged potholes from the recent rain, so she had to pay close attention to keep from hitting them. Many tires and wheels, as well as suspension systems, had been badly damaged when hitting the holes at too fast a speed.

Someday this rough road will be paved, and I’ll be home in a fraction of the time it takes me now. Alaska is like this rough road, smooth in a few spots and rough in others. There sure are a lot of changes occurring up here. All of the Alaskan oldtimers will become legacies, which makes me wonder what my Oldtimer, Nels, will leave behind.

As Corky pulled into the gravel road to her cabin, a cow moose slowly walked out from the trees. It stopped in the one-lane road fifty feet in front of the truck and looked at the dusty gray vehicle with a look of indifference. Suddenly the animal’s ears went straight up as she snapped her head around to look behind her. With another quick movement, the head flicked back and she finished crossing the road. In an instant, the cow walked into the trees and melted from view. Just as Corky started to move forward, a big bull moose, with a wide antler spread, seemed to flow out of the woods and stopped at the same spot in the road the cow had. Nice rack, Mr. Moose. I would thank you to move right along, please. I hope you have a nice evening, big fellow! Acting as if it had read her thoughts, the bull waggled its big rack and disappeared into the trees, following the cow. Incredible. One minute it’s there, and the next it’s gone. They are amazing animals. Thank you, Mister and Miss Moose.

Soon Corky was at her log cabin and had parked the truck close to the front porch step. The pleasant smell of the cool, damp forest and ripe, highbush cranberries surrounded her the moment she opened the truck door. After covering the oldtimer’s boxes with a small tarp, she pulled out her backpack and the sack of groceries. Stepping onto the porch, she scanned the yard in the dusky light and softly said to the world, Nice to be home.

The first thing she noticed after walking in and turning on the light was Mark’s pack sitting next to the door. After the Super Cub had crashed, Corky had been able to retrieve her and his packs before the plane had slid off the cliff. While she looked through his pack for survival gear, she had seen a small box that had a tag with her name on it. The need to survive was greater than her need to know what was in the box, so she chose not to look in it. The pack hadn’t been opened since they had been rescued from the crash site by those nice Russian fishermen. That little box with my name on it is still in that pack. Am I going to open it? No. Mark has to decide what to do or not to do about that item. Aargh!

In a few minutes, Corky had fixed a small meal and a cup of sweet English Breakfast tea. While eating and drinking, she enjoyed the last rays of sunlight as it poured across her table. Soon the meal was completed and the dishes were washed, dried, and put away. After dialing her sister’s number on the black rotary phone she listened for several seconds to the static on the old copper telephone lines. Finally, Cora answered with an excited and loud, Hi. This is Cora.

Hi, Cora. How are you and that tall guy? Corky responded just as loud to be heard over the scratchy background noise.

We’re fine. He said you’re to give Mark a Russian bear hug for him, Cora responded.

Tell him, nyet. He should do it. The two will have plenty of time together when Mark gets there. Thanks for visiting us at the hospital. Were you able to get any good food from his old fridge? Corky asked.

"Yes, quite a bit actually, and he has quality food, not a bunch of sweets and starches. I’m impressed how his cabin is kept clean and tidy, but not sterile. Even his clothes were folded and put away. I felt comfortable being there. He uses those wooden boxes that aviation gas and the white lantern gas come in, for shelves, just like you and I do. Maybe before I’m old and gray, we’ll have power line electricity to light this house, instead of lanterns or a generator. Tomorrow I’ll check his mail at the post office after he gives me the combination.

Well, my dear. You two went through a tough time with that crash. Let’s get together after your flights and talk about it. You’ll be up here to see Mark anyway so we can talk then. Did you get the charters worked out with Mark and Marian? Cora inquired.

"I called Marian from the hospital, and she doesn’t see any scheduling issues with the charters. The first pickup is a goat hunter Mark took to Green Lake, east of Tustumena Lake. I’m to be there about noon tomorrow and I’ll use my Super Cub on floats for that one. The following day, I’ll be taking my freight charter to Iliamna for Don Volts’ contracting job. And then I’ll go to the Lower Copper Lake to bring out three French sport fishermen for Mark. He said they were not well equipped, but they insisted on being left there. I’ll drop them off at the Iliamna Airport for their commercial flight to Anchorage.

Sis, do you remember when Mom and Dad caught those huge trout at Copper River? And you were about four years old and caught one that pulled you in so it could say hello?

I remember, but don’t forget the fish was almost as big as I was, Cora responded, and then they both chuckled for a few moments.

"When I was at the post office, Mrs. Miranda, as usual, had her facts wrong when she told me about the crash. I know that in a few hours there will be a totally different story floating around. Anyway, in my mail today were two heavy packages for Nels, my Oldtimer. He had them addressed to ‘Rudy Chernoskvi, Care of Corky Corcoran’. The return address is from the General Supply outfit in Tacoma, Washington. It has the same address that was on the boxes I received last fall for delivery to Rudy.

Darned if I know what’s in them, but they weigh almost fifty pounds each. Anyway, the boxes get delivered to Igiugig after the Frenchmen are delivered to Iliamna. Then I go to Nondalton to pick up the Oldtimer’s package from Alisha. I’m sure that will be his late summer gold deposit. So from there I go to Anchorage and get his gold taken care of. Then I go back to Iliamna and on to Tutna Lake where Mark left a married couple who are moose hunting. I’ll take them to Iliamna for the late commercial flight to Anchorage. I’ll come back to Homer after that for a day or two to rest up. Of course, the weather has to be decent for all this to happen. The temperatures are dropping all over the state, but the flying weather looks like it will hold for a couple of days. This beautiful late Indian summer is great. Unfortunately, winter will be here all too soon.

That is a tight schedule, Corky. I’m sorry to have suggested we should talk later. How are you feeling? Are you okay? Cora asked.

"I’m still a little shaky from the whole crash experience. What I did for us to survive has helped my confidence. I learned a lot and know I have a lot more to learn. And Mark never let his pain or the discomforts change his positive attitude which is admirable. Many, many people got involved to help us in one way or another and I won’t forget that. I find that helping others is a lot easier to do than to receive something.

For the most part, Sis, I wasn’t emotional because I was busy trying to figure out what to do. However, today at the hospital, I realized that Mark is becoming very special to me. And I think he feels the same about me. Do I have close feelings for him because we survived a plane crash together? Or am I beginning to feel more than a friendship with him? Or is it both? I don’t want to say anything that could jeopardize that feeling since it feels good. And I don’t want to not tell him how much I’m beginning to care for him. He and I haven’t discussed any of this yet. I want more time to go by to see what develops between us.

My dear, Corky, you do have a situation. He is probably wondering about the same things. You two looked like you really cared for each other today when I walked in on you. It was a beautiful sight. You'll be busy with all of the flying business so you won’t be seeing each other much for a few days. Now there will be some time to think about all of this. You have a wonderful reputation for your flying and safety skills, and that’s because you pay attention to what you’re doing. Do you think this development with Mark will be too much of a distraction to fly safely?

Not at all Cora. In fact, it will help me clear my head. And like you said, for the next few days I’ll be gone a lot and very busy. I’ll be calling you and Mark when I can. There is something that is bothering me a little bit. Mrs. Miranda said a woman by the name of Ellen Pointer stopped at the post office and was asking about my charter business. Do you know an Ellen Pointer?

"I’ve never heard of her. She must be real new to the area. If anyone has stayed in Homer for more than a week, people are usually talking about them. When I pick up Mark, I’ll ask around. I’ll call Marian if I find out anything.

Call her anyway she likes talking with you. Oh, I forgot to ask Mark if he wants his parents to come up from Washington. If he does before I get back, will you buy their tickets for me? I’ll repay the money when I return. Is that okay?

Absolutely!

Thanks, Cora, for everything. You’re a great sister. Give a big hug to the Tall Man. We’ll talk again soon. Love ya’.

You, too, my dear. Have an enjoyable trip. ‘Bye.