Bring this to her son, I tell the wolf.

Breath, cloud.

And to Ronnie, breathe his life back. And the boy who flew across the ocean: fill his lungs once more, his balloon as well.

Breathe life into Lily.

Into me.

Deep in the snow, I feel a flash of how that first Yup'ik man of stone felt. A staggering jumble of blocks sinking, too slowly, into the tundra. I am cold and wet, and old.

The wolf steps closer and then around me. I can feel him at the small of my back, now my shoulder, now he's before me once more. I breathe deep; I'm ready. But then, without a look, without a sound, he leaps away, lands in a trot, then leaps again, and lands galloping, fleeing or leading me to some new and distant place.

I rise.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Those interested in the historical and cultural issues raised here should consult the following sources, to which I am indebted: Robert Mikesh's definitive Japan's World War II Balloon Bomb Attacks on North America; James H. Barker's beautiful and informative Always Getting Ready: Upterrlainarluta: Yup'ik Eskimo Subsistence in Southwest Alaska; Ann Fienup-Riordan's Boundaries and Passages: Rule and Ritual in Yup'ik Eskimo Tradition, where I first found a version of the myth of the sobbing boy buried beside his mother; Bethel: The First One Hundred Years by Mary Lenz and James H. Barker; Segundo Llorente's Memoirs of a Yukon Priest; and A. B. Hartley's Unexploded Bomb.

I am very grateful to the following individuals and institutions for helping me ground this work of fiction in fact: former Comdr. Hansel T. Wood, Jr., USN; CW04 John D. Bartleson, Jr., USN (Ret.), historian of the Naval Explosive Ordnance Disposal Association, Inc.; Maj. Sean Bourke, M.D., USAF; Robert C. Mikesh, former senior curator, National Air and Space Museum; Alan Renga, assistant archivist of the San Diego Aerospace Museum; Dr. William Atwater, Ph.D., director of the U.S. Army Ordnance Museum; Dr. Amy R. Cohen, Ph.D., Randolph-Macon Woman's College; Lt. Amy Hansen and the public affairs staff of Elmendorf Air Force Base; the National Air and Space Museum Archives and Library; the National Archives facilities in Washington, D.C., and College Park, Maryland, especially the archivists of the Motion Picture, Audio and Video collection; the Rare Book and Special Collections Room of the Library of Congress; the John Wesley Powell Anthropology Library of the Smithsonian National Museum of Natural History; the Alaska Room librarians at Anchorage's Z. J. Loussac Public Library; Aaron Micallef, director of education and public programs, and the archive staff at the Anchorage Museum of Art and History; the General Research Division of the New York Public Library; the Seattle Public Library; George Mason University's Fen-wick Library and Georgetown University's Lauinger Library; and the Martha Washington Library of the Fairfax County (Virginia) Public Library System.

A wide variety of patient and knowledgeable Alaskans helped me avoid making cheechako errors (such as misusing the word cheechako); I'm particularly thankful to Mike Martz and John Active of KYUK/Bethel Broadcasting; Joan Hamilton and Michael Stevens of the Yupiit Piciryarait Museum; Grant Fairbanks; Sarge Connick; Elias and Bernie Venes; Gladys Jung; Crusty Old Joe Stevens; Olivia Terry of Island Aviation; VPSO Mark Haglin; the folks at KNBA; and the extraordinary Susan Oliver (and her extraordinary family) of Kodiak.

A final thanks to those who read, again and again, and offered their advice and encouragement, especially my editor, John Flicker; my agent, Wendy Sherman; my provocateur, Susan Richards Shreve; and my parents, Joan and Charles Callanan; as well as Tony Eprile, Cathy Gray, Dan Kois, Mike Pabich, Nani Power, Paula R. Sidore, and Mary Lucy Wood; along with all the staff and students of the George Mason University Creative Writing Program.

Thank you most of all to my wife, Susan, whose love, quiet courage, great patience, and ability to defuse just about anything inspired much of this book.