She hated fishing season. Hell, it had gotten to the point that she hated fish all together. Sex between them was almost non-existent from June to Aug...st, and weekends were horrible. He brought his fishing gear to work with him and spent hours each evening standing hip deep in Ship Creek casting over and over. Early morning weekend sex--a mainstay during the long, dark winters--was a thing of the past. Saturdays meant up before what passed for dawn in Alaska, and out the door for hour after. Susan's car was still there. After driving aimlessly for over an hour he again drove by Stickner's. His wife's car was still there.He drove home, his mind seething, wondering what was left of his marriage and the life he had enjoyed. He wondered if he would ever smile again.The remainder of the day was spent dawdling around the house. He couldn't face cooking a meal, quieting his occasional hunger pangs by eating snacks, fruit juices and colas. The only break was getting another call from Susan. She kind of felt sorry for him. Although his parents were liberal in a way she was envious of, there was little the poor guy could do without earning some sort of criticism.His childhood was spent moving from place to place. He'd changed schools so often they'd become a pastiche - Junior having little idea which schools his memories came from. Then there was the separation from his father as Freddie went on lengthy tours, leaving him and his brother alone with a bitter mother.Freddie senior. He thought about the women. He realized that he hadn't thought of them as girls in a long time. He considered the attention that Big Cloud would give them, and knew that if they were willing he would do what he could. He nodded his head and said that he would speak to the women when they returned from the hunt. Big Cloud looked around and said, "Well, we don't seem to be hunting anymore, so can we go back now?" Fighting Hawk laughed at his enthusiasm and stood to head back to the village. All.
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