“How are you doing

“How are you doing?” Daniel asked.
“Fantastic,” Laura said, trying to lighten her voice. “It could have been a Cessna, right?” Daniel turned just as they were about to exit the plane and pulled up the hood of her jacket. He tugged on the strings and tied them under her chin, just like he used to do when Trixie was tiny and headed out to play in the snow. “It’s colder than you think,” he said, and he stepped onto the rollaway staircase that led to the runway.
It was an understatement. The wind was a knife that cut her to ribbons; the act of breathing felt like swallowing glass. Laura followed Daniel across the runway, hurrying into a small, squat building.
The airport consisted of chairs arranged in narrow rows and a single ticket counter. It wasn’t manned, because the lone employee had moved to the metal detector, to screen passengers on the outbound flight. Laura watched two native girls hugging an older woman, all three of them crying as they inched toward the gate.
There were signs in both English and Yup’ik. “Does that mean bathroom?” Laura asked, pointing to a doorway with the word ANARVIK overhead.
“Well, there’s no Yup’ik word for bathroom,” Daniel said, smiling a little. “That actually translates to ‘the place to shit.’ “ The single door split off to the right and the left. The men’s and women’s rooms were not marked, but she could glimpse a urinal in one direction, so she walked the opposite way. The sinks were operated by push pedals; she pumped one to start the flow of water and then splashed some on her face. She looked at herself in the mirror.
If someone else walks into the bathroom, she thought, I will stop being a coward.
If the family outside has made it through security, to the gate.
If Daniel is facing forward, when I come out.
She used to play this game with herself all the time. If the light changed before she counted to ten, then she would go to Seth’s after class. If Daniel picked up before the third ring, she would stay an extra five minutes.
She’d take these random occurrences and elevate them to oracles; she’d pretend that they were enough to justify her actions.
Or lack therof.
Wiping her hands on her jacket, she stepped outside to find the family still crying near the metal detector and Daniel facing out the window.
Laura sighed with relief and walked toward him.
Trixie was shivering so hard that she kept shaking off the quilt of dead grass Willie had used to cover them for warmth. It wasn’t like a blanket you could just pull over yourself; you had to burrow down and think warm thoughts and hope for the best. Her feet still ached and her hair was frozen against her head. She was consciously awake - somehow she thought that sleeping was too close to the line of being blue and stiff and dead, and that you might pass from one side to the other without any fanfare.
Willie’s breath came out in little white clouds that floated in the air like Chinese lanterns on a string. His eyes were closed, which meant Trixie could stare at him as much as she wanted. She wondered what it was like to grow up here, to have a snowstorm hit like this and to know how to save yourself, instead of needing someone to do it for you. She wondered if her father knew this sort of stuff too, if elemental knowledge about living and dying might be underneath all the other, ordinary things he knew, like how to draw a devil and change a fuse and not burn pancakes.