Not Afraid of Life Page 8

  I was nervous attending West Anchorage High School, which is one of the biggest and oldest high schools in Alaska. My first day there was even more intimidating than my first day at Wasilla High. As I walked through the doors, I saw all of the teeming people—natives, Samoans, African Americans, and Asians—about two thousand students packed into the school. Security guards stood at doorways, ready to stop trouble before it started. Everything seemed rougher, tougher, cooler, and much more exciting than my small-town life in Wasilla.

  But Levi was never very far away.

  Even though a short distance separated us during that semester, we made frequent trips between Anchorage and Wasilla.

  And sometimes I went even farther to be with him. When his high school hockey team was playing in Homer, Mom wouldn’t let me drive there with him. The trip would take two hundred miles, and she didn’t want me to spend that much time with him. Instead, she suggested I fly and stay at a hotel with Ben’s mom. But I was stubborn and urged Mom to let me go with Levi—I didn’t want him to drive up there alone, I reasoned with her. Really, though, I simply wanted to be with my boyfriend.

  I was so proud when she finally relented and said she trusted me.

  We didn’t leave Anchorage until eight or nine o’clock at night. It was March and the roads were icy and the snow was coming down. Instead of that worrying me, however, I was just so happy to be with Levi. Lauden and I always made fun of girls who sat in the middle of trucks to be next to their boyfriends. But on that trip I sat right there in the middle of his new red Silverado. He was so proud to have me in that truck, which he kept so clean. He’d put a sound system in it, painted the interior, and even put a sweet-sounding exhaust on it. He put his arm around me in that truck, and the world just felt right. I felt protected and loved.

  Levi and I stopped for gas at a station near Girdwood, and we both got out to get pops from the store. At the same time, a few people were walking out, including a big guy who was strutting right toward us. Our fingers were intertwined. I remember that Levi was also holding a can of Copenhagen in his palm—and he just kept on walking. He stuck his chest out and walked straight to the door, right into that guy’s path. When we got back to the truck, he said, “You can’t ever let anyone get in your way. If you walk straight, they’ll move.”

  I thought Levi was so tough, so wonderfully protective. I loved the feeling of being with him. We finally made it to Homer at one or two in the morning and went to the hotel Levi’s team was staying in. Sammy, who was also there for the game, and I got a room there, too, and I put it on my debit card. I was proud to be able to afford my own hotel room because of the money I’d made at the coffee stand. After Levi got his gear out of his truck and we waited a long enough time for the coaches to be asleep, we snuck out to be with each other some more. That’s when I knew I could marry Levi. Even though we’d just spent all evening together in the truck, we wanted to still see each other! I would’ve married him then if I could’ve.

  The next day, Sammy and I drove Levi’s truck to the ice rink. It was so cold inside the arena that the people in the crowd were all huddled up, trying to keep warm. I went out to Levi’s truck between periods and got the only coat he had out there—a huge fleece pullover camouflage hunting jacket, which swallowed me up. When he went back to the locker room after the next period, he texted me saying that he loved the way I looked in his jacket. This brought a smile to my face, and I didn’t care that I looked ridiculous in that coat. Levi was my man, and I didn’t have to impress anyone else.

  They won the game, which put Levi in a wonderful mood. Even the weather seemed to perk up! We drove home under clear, sunny skies. I sat right there in the middle of the truck, with Levi’s arm around me, and everything was exactly as I wanted it to be.

  Just a few weeks later, I was flush with the excitement of a relationship that was finally on track. I loved Levi, and loved watching him glide over the ice in his hockey games. And so, when I heard he had a game in Wasilla, I bundled up, jumped in my car, and drove the hour to the ice rink. I climbed up near the top of the stands and was happily chatting with my friends Sammy and Chelsea. They were filling me in on all the details of Wasilla High School life that I was missing. That’s when my eyes landed on a girl a few rows down.

  “Look,” I said to my friends, pointing at the girl’s back.

  “What?” they said, not knowing why I was visibly upset.

  “That girl is for sure wearing Levi’s jacket!”

  “How can you tell?” they asked.

  “Because I’d know that jacket anywhere!” I said. “Trust me. It’s his.”

  After the game, I got a ride home with Ben, one of Track’s hockey friends. As we were pulling out of the parking lot, we drove past Levi and that girl walking out to Levi’s truck. She was stepping on my territory. I was fuming.

  Levi lied about it, but I knew what I saw. During that time, I started hanging out more with Ben. He’d stayed with my brother at our house while his parents were in the lower forty-eight the previous year. He was also a friend of Levi’s. So when my heart was broken—once again—by Levi, he understood in a way that many people couldn’t. After all, he knew all of the characters in my dramatic life pretty well. Though things didn’t get romantic between us, I appreciated Ben’s willingness to listen to my complaints and concerns. He became one of my best friends, a relationship that helped me make it through that semester of relationship ups and downs.

  Levi was like an old pair of shoes I should’ve gotten rid of but kept around because of the comfort.

  When, a few weeks later, a guy from West Anchorage asked me out I thought, Why not? He was a cute hockey stud, seemed very respectful, and I said yes. What did I have to lose?

  He took me ice skating, and we laughed as we skated and I—sometimes—fell on my butt, though he was there to make sure I didn’t totally wipe out. While being out there on the ice with him, I had the same sensation I had when Hunter sent me roses in Juneau. Levi’s idea of a fun date was watching television in his mom’s basement. But this guy was polite and fun, and he showed me what dating’s supposed to be like. I remember noticing how nicely he was treating me. Then, after the fun ice skating experience, he leaned over and kissed me.

  It wasn’t a big romantic deal, but I remember instantly being overcome with guilt about “betraying” Levi.

  I never went out with that guy again. It was like there were invisible strings tying me to Levi, and nothing—not even those scissors I brought in to that human relations class—could cut through those bonds.

  Though I missed seeing my mother while she was governing, Aunt Heather really stepped in and helped me navigate the difficult waters of high school—dating, peer pressure, and even the more embarrassing matters.

  Then another thing happened that continued to bind me to Levi. Aunt Heather noticed that my cramps caused me such intense pain that I sometimes struggled to walk. It ran in my family, and every month I basically shut down.

  “Bristol, we have to do something about that,” she said. “Let’s go see a gynecologist and find out if there’s anything he can do to help with that pain.”

  Within a week, we were sitting in my doctor’s office, listening to her describe the benefits of the birth control pill.

  “Birth control pills help with cramps because they stop ovulation,” she explained. “This decreases the amount of prostaglandins . . .”

  I couldn’t believe my ears. Many of my friends had to go to an awful no-questions-asked clinic for pills, but here I was with a legitimate way to get them. What a great development! This meant Levi and I could stop using condoms, and I could make sure I wouldn’t get pregnant.

  Mom called me from Juneau when Aunt Heather told her about taking me to the doctor. Though she was glad I might get relief from my terrible monthly pain, she had a not-so-veiled message for me.

  “Now, Bristol,”
she said, “just because you’re getting birth control pills doesn’t mean you can go out and have sex!”

  “Mom!” I said, totally embarrassed. “Puke!”

  I felt like Levi and I had figured out a way to cheat the system. Sure, I knew it wasn’t best to have sex before marriage, but I was doing the second-best thing. I planned on only having sex with one man my entire life. Since Levi and I were going to get married, I rationalized that our premarital sex wasn’t that big of a deal.

  Mom, however, was so oblivious to the hidden side of my life, she didn’t see my total humiliation for what it was—a desperate fear she’d see through me. Instead, she figured her golden child was laughing along with her at the absurdity of such a thing.

  My ruse wouldn’t last much longer.

  Chapter Six

  Van Palin and Other Surprises

  I’m gonna go bear bait

  Levi texted to me.

  Want to come?

  We loaded up our gear, got on a snowmachine, and headed out for the day.

  Maybe you’ve never heard of this practice. In fact, you probably try your best not to attract bears when you’re out in the wilderness. But up here, it’s a common practice that starts long before hunting season. The way it works is simple. First you set up a huge fifty-gallon yellow drum (like the kind that holds fuel), then you strap it to a tree, and put a hole in the bottom of the drum. The hole has to be just the right size—not so big that the food falls out and not so small that the bear can’t get his paws in. Then, you fill it with grease, cupcakes, stale doughnuts, dog food . . . basically anything around the house that you have to attract a hungry bear. Depending on what area you’re in, there’s a certain time to put the bait out before hunting season. Hopefully, the bears get used to coming by for snacks. By the time hunting season comes, you’re ready for them.

  Levi had already set all of this up by the time we arrived on our snowmachine. I checked out the big yellow drum, dumped some old food on top, and then walked the twenty or so feet to the tree stand.

  Now, this isn’t a rickety old stand, like some deer hunting stands. Rather, this is like a big tree house, with a screened-in window to watch for bears. Still, it was a little intimidating to climb up the handmade stairs on the tree—about fifteen feet in the air—and see the claw marks all over the stand.

  After you fill your drum up with food and climb into the stand, all that’s left to do is wait.

  And wait.

  Even if you aren’t hunting, it’s fun to be up there in the stand, right in the middle of nature. You can see moose, porcupine, and sometimes even wolves! So we carried our sleeping bags and a space heater up into the stand, leaned our rifles up against the wall, and whiled away the hours.

  Levi and I were in a pretty good stage of our relationship. Even though I was in Anchorage, I’d see Levi every couple of days—any day I wasn’t working late, I’d take a quick trip to Wasilla. Also, he seemed to be really into me (though I lived too far away to realize he wasn’t actually being faithful), and I enjoyed seeing him during these trips. We drove home in the pitch dark, so the only light we had was from the snowmachine. I was holding on tight. As we drove home, Levi hit something—a snow-covered berm or something—and we wrecked. The snowmachine rolled over our legs.

  As I got up, slowly dusting the snow off me and getting dirt and branches out of my clothing, I remember thinking, I wouldn’t have wrecked if I was in control and was riding without Levi. After all, I had been snowmachining with my brother Track since I could walk. He taught me everything I needed to know about how to safely ride a snowmachine. I couldn’t help but miss him at times like this. Track played on the elite Alaska All-Stars team before moving to Michigan to play hockey his senior year of high school. And it wasn’t long ago that my protective big brother decided to leave Wasilla and protect our country overseas.

  Track is the most private person you’ll ever meet. Though he’d been talking about joining the military for a while, he hadn’t mentioned it to me that past summer. I was blown away by the news then that he’d been talking to recruiters, the same ones who would come to the cafeteria at Wasilla High School to talk to potential recruits at lunch. I figured he’d stick around Wasilla. He was a full-time student at the University of Alaska at Anchorage, the largest college in our state, and he had a full-time job.

  In hockey, he was the type of guy who was always getting injured, and finally it caused him to give up the sport he loved so dearly. He had even had shoulder surgery earlier in March of that year. I think that’s when he started considering joining the army more seriously. He missed the camaraderie of the team and was sick of the way the war was playing out without him.

  When he told Mom that he had been visiting recruiters, she was a little surprised. But Track had a very strong dose of the independent spirit my parents instilled in him, and he knew exactly what he wanted to do. He and his friend from high school, Johnny, enlisted into the U.S. Army as infantrymen when Dad was on the Slope.

  Everyone was so supportive—yet emotional—about his decision. I knew he’d be a great soldier. He loves to help people, he loves his country, he’s a very hard worker, he’s very athletic, and he’s really smart. What a perfect way to apply his skills by serving his country!

  A few days later, after everyone had adjusted to the idea that he’d be gone, he went to his doctor to get his physical.

  “A physical?” The doctor looked at him. “For the army? Are you nuts? You can’t go to Iraq with your bad shoulder.”

  Track went from the high of deciding to join to the low of being told he wouldn’t qualify.

  But he is not easily dissuaded. He went straight to the military doctor, who looked over Track’s forms, looked up at Track, and asked, “Are you good to go?”

  “Yes, sir!”

  He and Johnny took the oath at the military recruiting office in Anchorage on September 11, 2007, as my mom and Johnny’s mom blinked back tears.

  As his little sister, I beamed with pride at the thought of Track serving his country. But part of me wanted to just have him here in Wasilla forever. He had always been the kind of brother who watched out for his sisters and helped us in ways too numerous to mention.

  The thought of him going to Iraq was especially unsettling, but it wasn’t the only transition that lay ahead for my family.

  When I was back home visiting Wasilla and having my bear-baiting outing with Levi, in early March 2008, Willow walked up to me, holding something in her hand. “Mom’s pregnant,” she said.

  “Shut up,” I said. “She is not.”

  That’s when she told me she had found a black-and-white ultrasound picture. It was the first time I knew of my little brother.

  “I found it on the table,” Willow said. “They left some papers behind, and it was in an envelope.”

  “They were here all weekend,” I said, trying to make sense of it all. “They didn’t mention anything about a pregnancy!”

  I immediately picked up my phone and dialed my dad, but he was already on the plane heading back to Juneau. My call went straight to voice mail.

  “Dad, call me as soon as you get this,” I said frantically into the phone. After I hung up, I turned to Willow. “I told you she was getting fat!”

  In fact, I’d told my friends just a couple of weeks ago that I thought Mom was either gaining weight or was pregnant.

  My guy friends protested; they always said she was hot, and they didn’t believe she’d suddenly let herself go like that. And the fact that she had just turned forty-four made us wave off the idea that she could be pregnant.

  But there I was with an ultrasound in my hand, trying not to be upset. As I waited for their plane to touch down in Juneau, I struggled with a wide array of feelings. Mainly, I just didn’t understand the need for the secrecy.

  Later I’d realize that Mom was worried that critics would
complain that she wouldn’t be able to perform all her tasks as governor with a baby on her hip. Only one other governor in American history has given birth while in office—Jane Swift gave birth to twins in Massachusetts. As the first female governor of Alaska, Mom worried voters would regret electing a woman into office.

  Dad called me back as soon as he landed, and I realized there was more to the story.

  “Yes, you are going to have a little brother, and he may have special needs.”

  His statement was very calm and very direct, but my heart felt like it had fallen out of my body. Not only was I dealing with the fact that Mom—gross!—was pregnant, I had no idea what to think about the fact that he might not be healthy. My cousin Karcher, with whom I lived in Anchorage, is autistic, but you can’t tell by looking at him. Would my new brother look different than we do? Would he struggle for the rest of his life?

  I started crying and clutched my phone so hard that it broke. My initial shock wore off quickly. By the next morning I was so excited to have a baby brother that I’d gone shopping for blue baby clothes!

  The next day, Mom called three reporters with whom she had a good working relationship and asked them to meet her, Dad, and Piper at the Capitol. There was a big seafood reception for legislators put on by the city of Kodiak to celebrate its seafood industry. Mom thought it would be fun to break the news to these reporters before walking down to get some good lobster and king crabs.