My round, grey body hangs suspended twenty feet beneath the surface of the ocean, tail swishing rythmically back and forth. I roll over to gaze up at the surface. There is three feet of thick ice separating the ocean from the air.

    The tightness in my chest becomes unbearable. I scan the surface once more and, to my relief, spot a hole in the ice.

    There isn’t much time. Every cell in my body screams for oxygen and I propel myself up. I am closing in on the hole when my lungs begin to fill with salty water. I break through the surface, desperately sucking in air.

    “Atungak! Lazy one! Get up now!”

    I am abruptly torn out of my dream. Keelut’s voice vibrates inside my head.

    I rub my eyes with the back of my hand and look up. “I had the most amazing dream, Keelut. I was a seal swimming in the ocean. I was trapped in the ice, but I found a way out.”

    My brother holds my gaze intently for a moment and sighs. “I don’t have the luxury of dreaming. We’re waiting on you.” He kicks my foot lightly and walks away.

    I watch him leave, secretly hoping he will turn around at the last second and come back to me. We used to tell each other everything. But since papa died, Keelut has become a stranger to me. My eyes drop to the floor and a feeling of loneliness washes over me like a fog rolling in over the ocean.

    I sit at the edge of my bed, which is actually a block of ice. A low, twisting growl calls from my belly. It reminds me how long it has been since there was a good meal to eat. It is 30 degrees below zero, and the daylight hours have all but disappeared. It is the longest winter in my fourteen years so far.

    To make matters worse, the memory of my papa’s face is growing fuzzy around the edges. I squeeze my eyelids and struggle to focus on his small, grey eyes smiling at me. His cheeks are rough brown parchment. His beard is a silver bush creeping up over his chin. I hold on to the memory of his face, hoping he can still hear me.

    “Keelut can’t take care of us by himself,” I whisper. “I don’t want to be just another mouth for him to feed.”

    The early morning silence is suddenly ripped wide open by the high-pitched cry of the dogs outside. The team is ready to go and impatiently tells me so.

    “I’m coming. I’m coming.” In a flash of sealskin and fur, I am dressed. This is no small task considering the number of layers required for warmth. I drop to my knees and crawl out the entrance of our winter igloo.

    The sun reflects off the vast frozen desert of Northern Alaska. It’s impossible to tell where the white earth ends and the blue sky begins. They have merged at the top of the world to become one.

    “We don’t have much daylight.” Keelut hands me a tiny piece of blubber, the size of which insults my empty belly.

    I help him load our supplies onto the sled. The dogs are bursting with energy that radiates off their bodies in great waves that ride the Arctic air.

    “Atungak, mind your brother.” My mother pulls me to her tightly and whispers a prayer to Sedna, the Inuit Goddess of the Sea. “Please bring your children to us now in our time of need. We will honor their nourishment and life energy. We promise to return them back to you.”

    Keelut’s stoic brown eyes are on us now. He catches me staring at him and turns to see that the dogs are securely tied to their runners. His shoulders slump under the invisible weight of his new role as first-born and substitute father.

    I miss Keelut, my brother and friend. I’m not sure exactly what we are to each other now. But I know something has shifted like the great plates of earth grinding and slipping beneath our feet.

    “Let’s go,” Keelut urges.

    The dogs jerk and tug impatiently and I’m barely able to climb onto the sled before we are off and running.

    My mother and sister appear to grow smaller until there is nothing left but the howling wind whistling in circles around my head.

    Keelut cracks his whip and lets out a sharp cry.

    “Uuk! Uuk!”

    The dogs respond with eagerness as we close in on the coastline.

    It is late morning by the time we reach the ocean, which looks very much like solid ground.

    The dogs slow to a stop, eager for a well-deserved rest. I watch Keelut in silence as he surveys the frozen ocean before us. The icy surface stretches out like a giant mirror, reflecting sunlight back into the sky. The massive plate of ice creaks and moans as if mourning the loss of something precious. A half circle of gulls answers back overhead and I tilt my head up to bid them well on their journey.

    “What do we do now?” I ask.

    “Now, we look for breathing holes in the ice.”

    “How do we find them when it all looks the same?”

    “That’s the challenge,” he says. “We scour the ice and don’t stop until we find one.”

    “And then what?”

    “Maupok. Then the waiting begins.” Keelut reaches around and pulls a harpoon from the sled.

    The wooden handle is perfectly round and several feet taller than me. The head is a blunt triangle of walrus ivory tipped with a sharp blade of steel. A sturdy line of leather, thirteen meters long, wraps itself in loose circles around the handle.

    “They have to come up for air eventually,” Keelut says. He holds up the harpoon and I reach out to grasp the smooth handle.

    He takes the other harpoon for himself and turns away. He is all business.

    “We have a better chance if we separate and cover more ground,” he says.

    I suck in the frigid air and begin my search in the opposite direction. Since I have no plan, I close my eyes and let my Inuit instinct guide me. The minutes pile up into hours.

The infinite white horizon grows hypnotic. I’ve almost forgotten what I’m looking for when I notice a dark spot in the ice to my left. It takes a moment before I realize this is what I’ve been searching for all morning. I stand over the dark hole and reach into my pocket, pulling out a piece of bone with a down feather frozen to it.

    Then I drop to my knees and lightly pack a thin layer of snow over the hole. I jam the bone into the snow until it sits up straight.

    “Maupok,” I say out loud. “Let the waiting begin.”

    I grab the harpoon and my eyes settle on that feather, waiting for the moment to strike.

    I stay so fixated that the image of the feather begins to blur. Suddenly I am seeing the last time I was with my papa. Our final conversation replays in my mind.

    “When the seal surfaces his breath will set the feather fluttering,” he tells me. I stare up at him with wide eyes. “That is when you will know it’s time to strike with your harpoon.

    “When will I be ready to go with you?”

    “Soon,” he replies. “You will be ready for the hunt very soon.”

    I take a deep breath and release it slowly.

    “Not soon enough,” I whisper to the wind. A lump grows in my throat and tears slide down my cheeks. But my eyes stay fixed on that feather. Unwavering.

    I have no idea how long I sit staring before the feather begins to flutter gently. It begins so gently that I wonder if my eyes are playing tricks on me. But the fluttering becomes more rapid and I become conscious of my heart pounding to the same rhythm.

    I lift the harpoon high over my head and stand frozen for a moment, every muscle in my body tensed and ready. Then I plunge the harpoon into the icy depths below with full force.

    There is a wild thrashing at the end of the harpoon. It continues for just a moment and then there is nothing.

    At first, I’m stunned. I stand frozen, studying the spot where my harpoon disappears beneath the water. I’m not sure what to do next so I begin to scream Keelut’s name.

    He comes running.

    “What is it?” he asks. “Are you ok?”

    My eyes travel from his face to the harpoon and back again. It takes a second for him to catch on. But then he grabs the harpoon and begins to pull at the line. I stand in silence as he grunts and tugs. It doesn’t take long for Keelut to bring the massive seal to the surface.

    The entire time he struggles with his task, he is glancing up at me. It occurs to me that he is looking at me as if he is seeing me for the first time.

    Finally, he collapses onto the ice, the seal lying next to him. He is breathing heavily.

    “It won’t be long until it’s dark,” he tells me. “I’ll need your help”.

    I nod in agreement.

    We drag the seal slowly across the ice. The dogs howl and spin in circles. They are hungry and seem to know they will get their fill tonight.

    The sky turns grey as we glide along the icy trail back to our igloo. The dogs announce our final approach with a chorus of barks. My mother and sister are waiting outside when we arrive.

    My mother’s eyes search Keelut’s face, her forehead criss-crossed with deep wrinkles. Keelut meets her gaze and nods his head. She smiles back and the tense lines in her face relax.

    My sister runs to me and wraps her arms around my leg. She squeezes tightly.

    “I missed you, Atungak,” she says. “I had nobody to play with.”

    “I missed you too.” I look into her soft, chestnut eyes. “Are you hungry?”

    “Yes.”

    “Good,” I say. “Tonight we’ll celebrate.”

    Keelut and I drag the seal to an open area next to our igloo. I watch as Keelut takes a knife and strips the seal meat into large chunks.

    “The dogs first,” he says.

    I take several pieces of meat and toss them, one at a time, to each dog. Then I sit and watch Keelut carve the remaining meat with the mastery of one who has performed this task a hundred times.

    “You did good today,” he says. He continues without looking up.

    “Keelut?”

    “Yes.”

    “I think papa was there with us.”

    Silence.

    “I think maybe he brought that seal to me.”

    Keelut stops and looks at me without saying a word.

    “Did you feel him with us?” I ask.

    “I feel him with us all the time,” he says. His eyes are soft and swollen with tears.

    “Does he talk to you too?” I ask.

    “How do you think I knew you were ready to hunt with me?” He continues to work his knife with the precision of a painter and his paintbrush.

    “I missed you,” I tell him.

    “I never left you, my brother. I’m always with you. Even if I’m not standing right beside you.” He looks up at me and smiles for the first time since papa died. I smile back and my heart lifts in my chest.

    That night I dream I am a seal once again. The longest winter has finally come to an end and the summer sun has kissed the thick layer of ice goodbye. I break through the surface of the ocean and breath in the cool summer air, ready for the beginning of a new season.