3 a.m. Sun

It was only a ten minute drive from the Qaanaaq airport into what was the town. The airport road entered town and became First Avenue. The first left on entering town was First Street. It went north, perpendicular to First Avenue before turning right to run parallel with First Street and becoming Second Avenue, passing Second and Third Streets before crossing the glacial meltwater that ran south into the bay, into the west side of town, where Fourth Street, the health-care center, the playground and the police station all were. The cemetery was on Second Avenue too, just about half a kilometer out of town.

The names of the roads did not come from the locals, who didn’t name them on maps, but from the seasonal population that started arriving with the warmer weather.

The property the cookie company bought in Qaanaaq in preparation for an influx of tourism was just a few structures down from the hotel, which was on the corner of Second Avenue and Third Street, on the east side of town. That’s where the airport shuttle brought them at about three in the morning. Leffer was still accustomed to east coast time, so in his mind he knew it was midnight. But outside the midnight sun loomed, and even though he had expected it and prepared himself for it, it made him feel disoriented in an unexpected way.

He was ready to work, but there was nothing to do. It was three in the morning for the people here. He checked in to the hotel, which had an automated kiosk. He looked around for signs of human life. The lobby lights were on, not much sun got in there, but outside it didn’t seem there were any lights or any movement in any of the windows.

He decided to take a walk to the company office, just about 80 meters down the street, but he was stopped by a police officer just as he got to the door.

The officer had followed the airport shuttle up Second Avenue and pulled up up the street to watch the passengers disembark. As it turned out, Leffer was the only one. The police car followed the airport shuttle after it left Leffer at the hotel.

Two more passengers were dropped off at residential addresses, one he recognized as a cousin of the Nanooks, while the other he suspected had been dropped off at an illegal homestay. He noted the address but didn’t see a reason to stop the man. He followed the airport shuttle the rest of the way.

The other four passengers were all dropped off at the health-care center, which was quickly growing into a hospital with the addition of dorms for visiting specialists. They had a full time dentist now even.

Officer Holland could’ve went back to the police station after the airport shuttle got to the health-care center, it was very close, but something made him think of returning to the hotel. He drove down Second Avenue in the other direction and saw Leffer walking up to the structure the cookie company had taken over, a two-story brick building put up after a fire burned through half the old block.

The cookie company had not told anyone Leffer was coming. As far as Officer Holland knew, the cookie company hadn’t told anyone much of anything. There was the strange couple with the robot they claimed could map the interior. They left not long after arriving. They’d only used the cookie company building once. Then there were the three men, surveyors they said they were, who had come with quite a bit of equipment to attempt an expedition to the company’s parcels. Officer Holland suspected the Amarok had gotten them, even though he didn’t believe those stories.

The officer pulled up right across the street from the cookie company building, watching Leffer walk up to the door. Leffer would have normally easily seen someone who was tracking him in that manner, in broad daylight, but the midnight sun acted like a blind spot in the center of his vision.

-Yo ho ho, Officer Holland shouted from across the street. Are you looking for cookies?, he asked as he crossed briskly over to Leffer’s side.

Leffer had been caught by surprised, and was embarrassed by it. He turned around, jingling the keys in his hand.

-I’m afraid they didn’t send me with any cookies, Leffer said. It was a popular question when anyone found out who he worked for. He even had a windbreaker with the old cookie logo, but he had left it at the hotel. He hadn’t unpacked anything before deciding mindlessly to walk over and see what this building the cookie company had up here was.

-You’re with the company?, the officer asked. Leffer couldn’t tell if it was a sincere question.

-Sure. What else would I be doing with the keys?

-I don’t know what those keys are for, and its three in the morning.

-Jet lag, Leffer muttered.

-What’s that?

-Jet lag. I just flew in, all the way from America.

-You sound European.

-Indeed.

-Isn’t it smarter then to get some sleep, get used to the midnight sun and the time, instead of wandering around and making a scene?

Leffer looked up and down the empty street. Some scene. Even the passengers on the airport shuttle seemed like ghosts to him. He didn’t want to argue.

-Sure, of course. You know how it is with the brain, Leffer said, tapping his skull with two fingers.

-Listen, he continued. I am here with the company. We’re trying to figure out what’s going on. Who could I talk to about it in the morning?

-Any of the officers will know the same thing. No one’s ever asked.