[ Back to Main Registry Page ]

[ EDITOR/AGENT REQUEST FOR MANUSCRIPT/SCREENPLAY ] [ Rate this Work ]

Welcome to Authorlink, the news, information, and marketing site for editors, agents, writers, producers, publishers and fans. The Writers' Registry provides a comprehensive view of authors, journalists, and freelancers, what they do, their specialties, projects, and how to contact them.

Darin Hargraves

Projects or Proposals Offered

In additionan to this book I also have a business novel concept based on a story about the (real life) dumping of neuclear waste into the Bering Sea by the Soviet Union and Russia.

Searchable Keywords

business, novel, fiction, self-help, eskimo

Specialties or Categories of Interest

business, novel, fiction, self help, alaska, native,

From The Book

Business Principles of the Arctic People:

Orally Interpreted by an Eskimo Wiseman

Chapter 1: The Altercation

Russ Diamond, a lowly three year associate, sat at his desk, eyes transfixed at the wall across the room. The wall was decorated in the fashion expected by Senior Partners of Kellar, Schwald and Strash. Front and center, ordained in a wooden frame with gold inlay trim, was his Harvard MBA diploma. Such high priced education was nearly a prerequisite to work for the firm. The firm was built on academic traditions that had existed since the inception of the company in 1935.

Around the enshrined memento were nearly a dozen pictures commemorating achievements that made good topics of discussion. There was a picture of Russ giving his valedictorian speech in high school, a picture of Russ on top of a large snow blown mountain with his fellow Harvard Mountaineer’s Club members and a picture of Russ with a dog in Central Park. The dog was one owned by a girlfriend a few years back and was placed on the wall to demonstrate Russ’ softer side.

Each picture had been chosen with care and strategically placed according to a dissertation Russ had concocted in his mind. From the moment Russ woke up in the morning, until he went to sleep at night, Russ was completely entrenched in a business mode. While the pictures on the wall gave the impression that Russ was a well rounded individual, he certainly was not—Russ was driven to succeed in business, always focused outward to the client relationship, relying on his coworkers to carry their weight and watch his back.

Unfortunately, this outward focus had made Russ as much a potential tool of fellow workers at the Firm as it was an asset of the client. Russ had been motivated and conditioned through corporate pressures that when searching for the career defining ‘billion dollar deal’, no waking moment should be wasted.

Even that wall was part of his sales and marketing plan. The achievements on that wall made Russ feel important, successful and bound for corporate stardom. More importantly, it made his clients feel that way also.

It has been only six months since he had stood looking at that wall with Homer Otte, sole owner of Otte Communications, a large regional communications company operating in the southwest United States, excluding only the large metropolitan cities in California and Nevada. Homer must have liked what he had seen on the wall because it was later that day that Homer had outlined his short term plan for his company. That plan included substantial growth to include eastern expansion of his company into eastern Texas, Mississippi and Georgia as well as a push into all metropolitan markets in the regions served. No longer would Otte Communications be a regional player in the nitch country and rural markets of the Southwest.

To accomplish the aggressive growth strategy, however, Otte Communications needed outside help, help that Homer needed Russ to provide. That help would come in the form of a partner with capital to invest. Homer had outlined a likely company profile to begin the search. It should be a large company wanting to expand into the communications business but lacking the technical expertise, industry contacts and customer base to become immediately successful.

Homer had been very specific that any potential investor must be from outside the communications industry. That was vital to Homer because he wanted to retain control of his company’s future and not have it absorbed into the corporate culture of a competitor. Bringing in another communications company would only confuse his current business model and create problems.

After talking into the early evening, Russ and Homer had looked each other in the eyes and shook hands over this desk to informally seal an agreement to do business. It was decided that Russ would facilitate identifying and evaluating potential investors for compatibility and draft all necessary documents to implement the partnership with the chosen company.

After several months of work, Russ had culled through countless potential partners for Otte Communications. Unfortunately, it was harder than Russ had expected to find a good match. In most cases, all strong candidates had less than stellar motives to develop the partnership with Otte Communications. High among these was the takeover or dismantling of the company in order realize a quick profit or to alleviate competition. The communications industry was vicious and Russ had to be extremely vigilant.

It was only after getting pressure from his “handler”, a Senior Associate named Lou Lazur, that Russ agreed to facilitate a rushed deal with a large west coast electronics manufacture, Webb Electronics. By all outward appearances, Webb Electronics had the strong balance sheet required and could give Otte Communications access to the inexpensive hardware and software to facilitate desired growth. But Russ knew that he had not done complete diligence on the background of the firm and its ownership.

The signing was now less than 6 weeks away and Russ had earlier that morning gotten a disturbing report from the ‘Books and Audit Department’ about the ownership of Webb Electronics. The company, it turned out, was owned in great part by the brother-in-law of Winters Digital Corporation.

Winters Digital Corporation was a firm that had expressed interest in a partnership position but had been rejected by Homer with little fanfare. Russ was sure this new information would derail the deal for Homer given the family ties and business link between the two companies. Russ too felt the conflict was too great. It appeared to Russ that the out-of-the-blue interest by Webb Manufacturing, just a little too convenient.

Russ now sat looking at his golden wall of achievement, taping his Mount Bloc pen on his desk with the accuracy of a metronome, stewing at the events of the past two hours. In truth he should have seen it coming. He had been warned by business allies with the Firm and business associates working for other companies that such destructive and unfair behavior could happen in the corporate environment—especially in the cutthroat world of high finance.

Russ thought back over the past two hours and went over the events that had transpired.

Upon reading the report and grasping the new information provided by the auditors, Russ had quickly arranged a meeting with Lazur, to discuss the new information. Lazur had listened intently but quickly began to defend Webb Manufacturing and the unfortunate association with Winters Digital Corporation.

After an hour of heated discussion, Lazur announced his decision to proceed with a recommendation to partner with Winters Digital Corporation. Lazur commented that the firm could stand to lose credibility should this insignificant information come to light this late in the game. It was a matter of benefits vs. consequences, said Lazur.

“Besides,” Lazur smirked, “you never should have given your pre-approval without doing a thorough analysis.” But it was you who made the call to proceed in the first-place, Russ had wanted to scream. This contract would proceed without informing Homer or the Otte Communication legal staff of the new information.

Additionally, said Lazur, it was time to turn this account over to someone with more experience to push it through to its conclusion. Especially in light of Russ’s objectivity with both parties during future negotiations, it was necessary for him, Lazur, to take over.

(101 words deleted from text)

Russ could see that Lazur was not going to reconsider; his motive was just too compelling, this was his ticket to the big-time. Russ considered approaching one of the partners of Kellar, Schwald and Strash but decided that would not be advisable. Russ realized the ‘ole boy network’ would come into play and he as an associate would be shot in a crossfire.

Partners didn’t mettle with the affairs of Senior Associates. They were the next to become Partners in the Firm, a club of sorts, and as such were very close to the seat of power. Russ was just an associate and many at the Partner level would think “needing to pay some just dues.” It was the natural way of things.

As he had left Lazur’s office, Lazur had commented, “You’ve worked hard on this project and deserve some time off. Why don’t you take a vacation for a couple of weeds to clear your head? There are more deals to make; you can get on one of them when you get back.” He was only trying to get Russ out of the way. Perhaps he should give him his wish—with any luck the deal would fall through without his involvement. He would make sure he was not reachable.

Russ had since childhood wanted to visit Alaska and northern Canada. In children’s books, Russ had seen pictures of herds of caribou and bears from that great northland. That was one of the reasons he had jointed the Mountaineers at Harvard. Although the club never climbed any Alaska mountains during his membership, the club had traveled the world climbing peaks that Russ imagined were like those found in the northern regions of his own continent.

At Harvard, he had also spent hours in the library reading about frozen exotic places, and Alaska was at the top of the list, he was intrigued with the place. If he needed to get away from the injustices which he experienced at Kellar, Schwald and Strash and not be accessible, then Alaska seemed as good a place as any. He would take the opportunity to act on a lifelong dream.

“I would like to purchase a round trip ticket to Alaska.” Russ was walking out of this office building onto the busy streets of New York and talking to a travel agent. “No, coach will be fine.” Russ didn’t want to spend his money on that extravagance. He quickly gave the agent other pertinent information regarding times and contact information and read the numbers off his credit card. Closing his cell phone and replacing it into its belt holder, Russ hailed a taxi and headed home to pack. He had a plane to catch in less than 6 hours.

It was easy to be spontaneous when he was mad at what had happened. While it might be considered irrational behavior, Russ couldn’t wait to lose himself. At no time did he consider it the weakest course of action. At no time did he consider that he was being manipulated with very little resistance from himself.

It was a humiliated and broken Russ who 45 minutes later stepped out of the taxi into drizzling rain, and run for the door of his high-rise apartment complex.

Chapter 2: Running Away to Alaska

It had been a mad rush to get ready, packing cloths and sundry items into one large duffle bag, and another slightly larger duffle bag with his old mountaineering supplies. Included with these mountaineering supplies were the best of what was available from the top sports shops. A tent that popped up by itself when taken from its case into something that looked like a green igloo, a light duty REI sleeping bag, a one burner stove weighing less than 8 pounds and a complete fishing pole that could be easily compacted into a backpack, were a few of the items to be taken.

(73 Words deleted from text)

“Excuse me, excuse me,” Russ pushed down the isle of the airplane, past other passengers standing in the isles, putting their carry-ons in overhead compartments. This was among the many trials of flying, the wait in the airport and the march to his isle seat. “38C,” Russ looked at his ticket for verification. Choosing a seat was a crap shoot, sometimes you won; sometimes you sat next to screaming kids or a large person that snored.

(750 Words deleted from text)

Chapter 3: Meeting a New Friend

Arriving in Kotzebue, Russ made reservations with the charter service to be taken to his destination and inquired about a store to purchase needed supplies. The attendant pointed across the muddy gravel road from the airport to a small deteriorating building with miscellaneous signage. Russ read the signage and deduced that it was the local store. The signs that could be read exclaimed “Coke is it!”, “Marlboro Cigarettes”, “Johnson Boat Motors,” “Lund Aluminum Boats” and “Arctic Cat Snowmobiles.” Most of the signage looked dated to Russ.

Russ made the short trek from the small airport to the local grocery which was called Alaska Commercial Company. Another small sign tacked to the door said the company had been doing business in Alaska for more than 100 years, from the time of Russian fur trade.

It occurred to Russ that since arriving in Kotzebue, the whole atmosphere had changed and he felt a weight lifting from his shoulders. It was not just the scenery; it seemed to Russ that the tempo of life was what it might have been for people when this company had first opened its doors. Russ’s cell phone and computer would do him no good here. This life, in this village was drastically different than the life he was living in New York, on Wall Street.

The store, hardly bigger than a truck stop convenience store back home, had canned vegetables, canned meat, peanut-butter, bulk bags of oats, unrefrigerated cartons of sterilized milk, soda and frozen bread. They had Red Vine Liquorish that Russ considered but decided against because they were hard and stiff with age.

After making his purchase for what Russ felt was needed for a two week stay, the bill was nearly $400.00. He asked for a couple of boxes and carefully packed the supplies for the airplane ride to the lake.

The store attendant inquired if he would like help getting the heavy boxes to the airplane. Russ eyed the boxes and thankfully answered to the affirmative. The worker, appearing happy for the diversion, proceeded to load the boxes into a wagon attached to a 4-wheel drive all terrain vehicle. “Want a ride to the airplane,” asked the attendant? Russ shook his head “no” and watched as the ATV and cargo quickly drove across the street, around the outside of the building and onto the tarmac. Making a turn, the vehicle and rider disappeared behind the small building called Kotzebue Airport. It was apparent that terrorism wasn’t a big consideration in this part of the world.

Thirty minutes later Russ was flying in a northeasterly direction in a loud cabin that shook from the vibration of the engine. His seat felt as if it was designed for a child and Russ might have been uncomfortable if it had not been for the excitement he was feeling.

The wings of the plane were mounted high on the airframe which gave Russ a mostly unobstructed view of the scenery below. Only a large polished aluminum float prevented Russ from seeing what was directly below the plane. This didn’t matter to Russ as what he could see was breathtakingly wild and almost too much for this New Yorker to absorb.

The land was mostly flat with hundreds of lakes for as far as the eye could see. Mounds called “ice heaves” by the pilot appeared scattered across the landscape, between the bodies of water, topped with willows and bushy grasses. Russ had seen a special on TV about tundra and knew this land was perfect for the foraging of the native species of caribou and moose.

The plane rumbled along for nearly an hour before turning west to follow a ribbon of water, winding with the topography of the terrain. The ribbon of water was the Wulik River, the river on which his new friend Lincoln had grown up. Within 10 minutes the scenery began to change and large hills rose from the tundra. The hills continued to grow into small mountains as the plane flew inland, following the river.

The plane began to lose altitude as the pilot pulled back on the throttle and the methodical hum of the engine deepened in sound and changed tempo. The sides of the mountains filled the windows on both sides of the plane. Just as Russ began to wonder if the plane would have the ability to turn around in such close quarters, the mountains spread and a lake appeared below the plane.

(276 words deleted from text)

Within 10 minute all supplies and provisions were sitting in a pile on the sandbar. “Anything else you need before I leave?” The pilot was offering his hand. Russ took his hand and proclaimed his readiness for independence. “Don’t need a thing, just pick me up in a couple of weeks.”

“Great! See you in 12 days.” The pilot jumped into the water and pulled the plane free of the sandbar. Giving the plane a final push, the pilot stepped up, onto the float. Opening the plane door, the pilot paused and looked at Russ. “Hey, don’t tangle with any bears.” The pilot smiled and pulled himself up into his plane.

The engine turned over, sputtered and roared to life. The pilot gave one last wave before throttling up, and began speeding down the lake for takeoff. The plane was airborne within 100 feet and was out of sight within minutes.

Russ watched as the plane disappeared. “Don’t tangle with bears . . . are you kidding.” Russ wondered if the pilot was just playing with him. Suddenly, Russ realized he didn’t have a gun, bear spray or any other manner of protection.

It was mid afternoon and Russ needed to prepare a camp site. While the sandbar would be a possible location, Russ decided to scout around up stream and down the side of the lake before making a final decision. Using willow boughs, Russ pulled himself up a small bank, most likely the river bank during the spring runoff season, and began to explorer. First, walking down the side of the lake, he found a game trail that provided for easier walking. There was evidence of many types of animals. Most disconcerting to Russ were those of the large paw variety. Bears and Arctic Wolf sign were everywhere. This peaceful place was full to predators!

During all the outdoors trips to various parts of the world with the Harvard Mountaineers, Russ had never felt vulnerable. He realized that the meager experience and knowledge of the outdoors was not going to help him in this wild place. He was 70 miles from the nearest village. He had no means of communication with the outside world and he knew he would find more items, like the protection, that had been forgotten. “Perhaps” Russ thought, “this trip had been a little too self serving and reactionary.”

“It would be ironic if I don’t survive this trip.” Russ continued to contemplate as he walked. He wondered what Lazur’s reaction would be if he died on this trip. Lazur was a user and would most likely take advantage of his demise for his own benefit. Certainly the Otte Communications merger would happen more smoothly without him around. He could see Lazur telling Homer Otte that he had been killed by wolves. Lazur would chock up a few tears and say that Russ would want him to finish this deal. Heck, Lazur would probably tell Homer that he was his best friend.

Russ began to get angry. Was this whole trip as a result of a manipulation? But who was responsible for that, Russ or Lazur? Russ knew the answer, it was him. Russ had allowed himself to get pushed around. After walking a half mile down the side of the lake, Russ turned around and headed back to the sandbar. Russ was looking for a fairly open area to prevent his camp fire from spreading and to protect him from ambush by predators. It was apparent that most of the ground close to the lake was too congested with plant life for his needs. He would try upriver next.

When he arrived back at the sandbar Russ was surprised to find a flat bottom river boat pulled onto the sand near his supplies and a middle-aged Eskimo standing a few feet nearby. “Hello,” the Eskimo was smiling and waving his hand in greeting. Russ’s initial reaction when seeing the man and boat was to fear for his supplies and own well being. He was in the middle of nowhere and if he disappeared, no-one would think twice except maybe his pilot. “My luck, he would think the bears got me,” thought Russ.

Russ could see immediately that the Eskimo did not have any bad intentions and at once felt more at easy. Russ jumped with both feet onto the sand from the short grassy, dirt overhang that made the transition from shoreline to sandbar. Regaining his balance, Russ stood upright and waved back. “Hello. I wasn’t expecting to have company out here.” Russ smiled back. This was indeed a surprise to see someone this far into the wilderness. In some ways Russ was a little relieved to see that he was not alone.

Russ walked toward the man and the stash of supplies. “I just got dropped off by airplane—I’m looking for a good camp site. My name is Russ.”

“I’m Walter Apongalook. I’m camping upstream from here about a quarter of a mile and heard the plane. You’re not from Alaska are you?” Walter closed the gap as Russ had walked forward and held out his hand.

“No, I’m from New York.” Russ shook Walter’s hand and could feel the hands were ruff and callused from hard labor.

“This is a long way from the big city….” Russ and Walter made small talk for about 15 minutes, discussing the near 22 hours of sunlight, the animal life and the awesome fishing in the river and lake.

“As I mentioned, my camp is not too far from here and you would be welcome to keep me company.” Walter had assessed Russ’ situation and knew that Russ would be much better off with someone who knew how to survive in the wilds of Alaska’s bush.

It was true, so often, white men and others from different parts of the world had travelled to Alaska to see the sights and had experience wildlife. Walter had seen too many of their campsites: ripped tents, food stores strung all around and little evidence of the travelers. They had become a bear’s next meal. Walter did not want that to happen to this man.

“How long you going to be here?” asked Russ, trying to not appear too relieved.

“I’ll be here for another couple of weeks or so.” Walter moved toward the supplies and picked up one of the boxes. “Let’s load up, and get back to camp—I’ve got moose stew on the cooker.”

Russ walked to his pile and picked up a backpack in one hand and a knapsack in the other. “Moose stew sounds good.”

When Russ’s supplies were piled neatly in the bow of the boat, Walter started the boat engine and Russ pushed the boat free of the sand. Walter goosed the engine and wisps of smoke boiled free from the turbulence in the water as the boat shot forward.

Looking over the side of the boat Russ could see the rocks along the bottom getting progressively closer as they neared the entrance to the river. “What’s the minimum water depth for this boat?” asked Russ.

“About 4-6 inches depending on the load,” said Walter, his black hair blowing in the wind around his Remington cap. Russ turned and looked back at Walter, “This guy is in his element” thought Russ, “he lives a simple life, one without the riggers that I face each day back in New York. He is so lucky.” Walter smiled at Russ and gave the boat more gas. This was going to be a fun ride on the river. Turning back to look up river, Russ squinted as the cool river air rushed past, looking eagerly to see what was around the next turn.

Chapter 4:

Russ was on his second bowl of moose stew when Walter brought up the question than Russ had known would eventually come. “So Russ, what brings you to Alaska?”

Russ contemplated a moment trying to decide if he should give an abbreviated answer or the full blown version. Russ decided to go with the later—after all, he was going to be here for two weeks and time was not an issue. Also, he didn’t need to worry about disclosing anything that could potentially come back to hurt him. He was on an Alaskan river about 5000 miles from New York and most of what he had to say would be over the head of this simple Eskimo man.

Russ wasn’t prejudicial against anyone; he just realized the likelihood of Andrew relating to his world of high finance would be highly unlikely. Andrew was a subsistence hunter, getting by, hunting off the land.

Russ spent the next hour going over the Otte Communications contract, how he met with Homer and had spent months working on trying to find a suitable partner. He spilled out his dismay at seeing Lou Lazur muscle in on the deal and how he had been forced to recommend Webb Electronics. Russ expressed that he would not receive the commission on the deal, but would most certainly get any credit for when the deal went bad.

“Homer Otte is a good man,” said Russ in conclusion, “I just couldn’t stand around on the sidelines and watch things go down this way.”

“So, you’re running away,” said Walter after a brief silence.

Russ had been looking into the fire as he had spoke but now looked up to see Walter staring at him from across the flames. While it was not dark by any means, the sun was at its lowest and there was a cool chill in the air. He could see the light reflecting from the fire in Walter’s eyes. “I wouldn’t say I was running away, I just didn’t want to be around when things fell apart.” Russ began to think there was more behind those dark eyes than a seasoned Eskimo hunter.

“Seems to me that is when opportunities are most abundant.” Walter had stood and was reaching for the pot of hot water boiling on hot coals which had earlier been pulled to the edge of the fire. “It is the way of the hunter to wait for confusion within the heard before going for the goal, making the kill. It is during times of stress that mistakes are made and opportunities are created for the warrior. Is it that different in your world, in New York City?”

Walter pulled a tea bag from a tin can and put it in his cup. He poured the water slowly, careful to not spill the boiling water or burn him-self on the hot metal pan. “Are you a warrior, Russ?”

Russ was completely unprepared for this line of questioning, but years of training at Kellar, Schwald and Strash kicked in and Russ muttered an answer to the affirmative. “In my world, I am a successful warrior. I have been trained in one of the best business schools, have secured a position in a powerful Wall Street firm and am very well paid for my efforts.”

“What you say may be true but all the best warriors are celebrated for their deeds in battle. Your training, your membership in a successful tribe, and your tribal status do nothing to make you successful, they only set up an expectation that you will be successful. I ask you again Russ, are you a warrior?”

There was an uncomfortable silence between the two men and only the popping of the fire and the wind through the brush could be heard. Before Russ could answer, Walter continued, “Let me explain it this way Russ. The oil in the moose stew rises to the top but floats at the whim of that beneath. There is no substance and no stability--it is reactionary and moves at the whims of others. I have seen too many men rely on their training, their linage and their wealth within the clan to rise within their societies—they are like oil on water. A true warrior is like a rock in the rapids. It withstands the pressure of the water and sets its own agenda. It delights in the turbulence because it is grounded and secured, not on dress beads and the willingness of others to believe in the substance of titles, but on deeds and substance.”

Russ was looking at Walter as he spoke and he began to see there was more to this Eskimo Warrior than he had first thought. Already, he was beginning to wonder if he was more like oil in water than a rock in rapids. Had he risen to his position because of substance or had he been given his opportunities in life because of his dress beads? Perhaps it was time to reflect on this new train of thought. “Well Walter, if you put it that way, I guess I don’t know if I am a warrior. I would like to think I am.”

Russ continued, “You have a very interesting way of looking at things. Is that philosophy something that has been handed down from generation to generation?”

“Yes, we have a cultural tradition of telling stories and teaching the lessons we see in our environment. Nature is a wise teacher and has the answers to most problems if you only look for them.”

Russ wanted more answers and he decided to open things up for more conversation. “So what am I, a fraud within my company? How am I to know if I am a warrior?”

“What you are depends on what type of organization you are in. Understanding the dynamics within that organization will help you to find your place.” Walter stood up and walked around the back of the small cabin, returning with several items under his arms. Bending down, he laid out in front of Russ several jaw bones from different types of animals.

“Where did you get these?” asked Russ.

“My peole have been hunting this land for thousands of years. This cabin was built by my father when I was a boy and I was told by him that this camp site has been in our family for hundreds of years. I once found a stone arrowhead in the mud of a game trail, about a mile from here. I grew up on this lake during the summers, hunting and fishing. As a result, there are a few bones lying around.” Walter was smiling again, obviously finding himself rather cleaver.

“Thousands of years in the same neighborhood, I guess you are entitled to a few bones.” Russ smiled back.

Once again, Walter took on a more serious expression on his face. “These jaw bones are like organizations, each one is uniquely tooled for the subsistence of the body. Look at this wolf jaw. It has large sharp teeth in the front used for ripping and cutting flesh and the back teeth are for used for chomping the flesh into small pieces. The teeth in the front are the business end of this organization, pulling down the prey which is then processed by others, lower in the organization.”

Russ looked at the jaw bond and began to view it more like an organizational chart. The Senior Partners of Kellar, Schwald and Strash were the smaller, sharp refined teeth at the front of the jaw. These teeth suited them well as they where there for every large kill, carefully slicing away any resistance at lunch parties and board meetings.

The large canine teeth were the hooks that sank deep into a client, and almost always made initial contact with the prey. These canines were like the Partners of Kellar, Schwald and Strash and did most of the heavy lifting.

The progression of the teeth was much like the progression of the firm. From the Partners, you went to Senior Associates, Associates and grunts. Each had its place and function within the organization and each could not survive without the other.

Each jaw bone represented a different type of business and organizational structure. One thing was certain, the more predatory the organization, the sharper the teeth, the larger the organization, the larger and more powerful the jaw bone.

The moose jaw was in Russ’s mind much like a large manufacturing or nonprofit business, designed for the slow and consistent processing for data. Walter interrupted his train of thought.

“Russ, you need to decide what you are best equipped to do within the organization. You may have aspirations to be hire-up within the organization, one of the teeth that bring down the prey, but you may not have the inherent ability to play such a role.”

Was this true? Russ began to wonder if he had the ability to play the role to which he had been trained.

“Not all dogs can be the alpha dog,” said Walter. “Only one or two dogs in my dog team can play that role and never more than one at a time.”

One hour later Russ had set up his tent and was cozy warm in his sleeping bag, looking through the hole at the top of the bag at the walls of his tent. The walls were thin and light was getting through. What he had given up for portability and weight had detracted from the structure of the tent—the walls off the tent were rippling with the cool summer winds from off the mountains.

Russ was thinking about the jaw bones. When Walter was shown bones like those as a young man, it was in the context of tribal behavior and organization. What a unique way to demonstrate organizational dynamics. It seemed the Eskimos of the great northland had their own business schools.

Russ reflected on the discussion about the jaw bones. Walter had pointed out that when a tooth became infected or weak; the whole organization was weakened as a result. Walter also pointed out that the teeth on the lower levels could not do the job of the ripping teeth and despite the willingness of the lower teeth to try; it was unrealistic to expect them to get the opportunity.

It is possible that Lazur’s actions were predictable within the natural order of things. As an associate, was it his right to expect to pull down a billion dollar deal without the interference of one of his superiors? These thoughts ran through Russ’s mind as he went to sleep, tomorrow would be a new day and perhaps Walter, the Eskimo warrior would provide him with a few more insights.

Chapter 5:

Russ woke with a start to the sound of the boat motor starting up and idling. It didn’t seem to Russ that he had gotten his full eight hours but that was mostly because he had stayed up so late the night before. His internal clock was set early and if the boat motor had not awaken him; he would soon be stirring anyway. He was usually showered and dressed and headed for the subway by 6:30, most mornings. Groggily, Russ slid out of his sleeping bag, pulled on his pants and shirt, found a light jacket in his cloths bag and stepped out of the tent.

“Good morning Walter, what time is it?” Walter was in the boat, organizing the supplies and checking on fuel status.

“Don’t know, I’m not wearing a watch. We are on Eskimo time out here. Sleep when you want, hunt and fish when you get hungry. . .no schedules to keep out here.”

That sounded nice to Russ. Even when on vacation or on his days off from work, he had always maintained a schedule. “That’s going to take some time to get use to.”

“Thought I would take a trip around the lake and see if there is any game, want to come? Walter jumped from the boat and walked toward the campfire that he had started earlier that morning.

“Yea, that sounds like it would be fun.”

Walter picked up a large Thermos bottle and proceeded to fill it with hot water. He added a several “Constant Comment” teabags and several spoonfuls of sugar and nondairy creamer. “This is for if you get cold on the lake. It’s my own special brew, much better than those fancy coffee drinks you get in the big city.” With that, Walter motioned Russ toward the boat.

The air was indeed cool on the water and thankfully Walter cut the motor on the boat when they had traversed nearly the full length of the lake. Walter pulled out the Thermos and poured two cups of tea. It smelled good.

Leaning back against a flotation device to get comfortable, Walter surveyed the bank. Russ took a sip of tea and wondered about Walter, was he what he appeared, a simple subsistence hunter, communing with mother earth? Russ was going to say something but stopped when he saw Walter suddenly sit up straight and point at a large bird taking flight from a bluff of rock about 30 yards from the lake, up the side of the mountain.

The bird had a wingspan of nearly 4 feet and had yellow piercing eyes. It was a large arctic owl and its species was one of the largest birds of prey in the entire world. Its powerful wings beat the cool morning air for a few seconds then became fixed to glide.

Instead of climbing in altitude, the owl dipped low over the lake and protruded its large tufted claws. With a small splash the claws struck below the surface of the water and clung to a fish swimming near the surface. The bird’s wings began to flap again and the bird flew back to its rocky perch for a meal of fresh meat.

“Now that was a one in a million sight,” exclaimed Russ. “Bet you don’t see that every day?”

“No, you don’t. But I’ve been watching that owl for several days now. That’s his perch on the rocks.” Walter looked at Russ, “I knew that this owl would eventually get hungry for a fish and in the early morning hours, just before the day begins in earnest, he would find his prey. I just wanted to be there to watch it.”

“So you knew this would happen?” Russ was amazed.

“I knew it would happen eventually. You see Russ, while it is unlikely that an untrained person, one not knowing what to look for, would ever see an owl take a fish from the water, I knew it was possible and worked to position myself for the event. It took time and diligence on my part but I knew that I would eventually be rewarded. Most people don’t plan or have the dedication to see a plan through.” Walter sipped from his cup of tea.

“So you have seen this before?”

Walter nodded to the affirmative. “Yes, many times in my life but only a few times by accident. My grandfather showed me how to be patient and plan for the hunt.”

Russ thought back at his first meeting with Homer Otte. It was Homer who had sought him out, walked through his door. Was that by accident, did he luck out by being at the right place at the right time? Homer was a very successful business man and it seemed unlikely that would have been the case. Perhaps he had been part of a planned accident by Homer.

“One time, when I was very young, I found a dead owl on this very lake with a large salmon in its claws. I asked my grandfather about the owl and the fish and he said the owl was young and greedy. He tried to pick up a fish that was too large for him. When an owl strikes and locks its claws on a fish, it is committed, it cannot let go.”

Russ had worked with Lazur for much of the time that he had been at Kellar, Schwald and Strash. He was a brash upstart who had wanted to grow in the business at any costs. Lazur, Russ knew, had made many promises that he was finding hard to keep. Lazur was like that dead young owl, he was over committing himself professionally and it would likely be his death, professionally.

Suddenly it began to make more sense. Lazur was a broken tooth in a very predatory environment and he was struggling to survive. Lazur had stolen the Otte Communications business because he wanted the notoriety in the firm, but he was proceeding recklessly with the account due to timelines and self preservation.

“What are you thinking Russ?” Walter had focused his attention on this young visitor.

Russ spent a few minutes relating what he had been mulling around in his mind. Walter was smiling. “It is good that you see wisdom in the teachings of my people. We learned from our environment to survive—it was our education process in the village. For us, it was learning to survive the elements and the proper way to hunt, for you it is the dynamics of business.” Walter laughed. Russ could see that he was pleased.

“You have learned a very important lesson Russ. Things are not always what they seem. There may be more to your boss’s actions than what is on the surface.” Walter started the boat motor and glided the boat closer to mouth of the river. The bottom of the lake appeared closer.

Walter cut the motor and let the boat drift. Peering over the edge of the boat, Walter pointed out fish swimming close to the bottom. “Those are rainbow trout, good eating. Let’s catch a few for dinner tonight.”

Russ didn’t see any fishing poles and was wondering how they were going to catch the fish. His answer came quickly.

“White men like golf to hone their concentration and cognitive thought, Eskimos like me spear fish.”

How did this Eskimo know about golf and how did a word like cognitive become a word in his vocabulary? Russ would ponder on these questions later in the afternoon, but now Walter was handing him a wooden fish harpoon, tipped with a sharp ivory barbed spear point.

“Go ahead Russ and spear a fish.” Walter pointed to the water.

Russ had always considered himself a good golfer, if this was like golf, then this would be a piece of cake for him. Russ peered in the water and saw a large trout about 2 feet from the edge of the boat, in about 5 feet of water. Russ slowly lowered his spear to the surface of the water and plunged the spear as hard as he could until the spear hit bottom.

When the ripples cleared on the water’s surface, Russ could see the spear point resting on the sandy bottom in a location nearly 18 inches from when the fish had been. Russ expected a ribbing from Walter but instead he commented, “Things are not always what they seem.”

It was refraction of light that made the fish appear in a place that it wasn’t. Was this an inference to what he had discussed earlier with Walter about Lazur’s motives—was his perspective giving him a skewed view of reality.

“Sometimes you must visualize what is below the surface to get the prize,” said Walter who was now raising his spear and plunging it into the water. Walter quickly laid the spear across the sides off the boat and sat on it. Reaching out, he collected from the end of his spear a pink salmon. “This guy was early for the time of year,” said Walter, “it’s going to be a good year for salmon—plenty of meat for everyone. This is good.”

Russ watched his new friend through new eyes. He would continue to open his mind to what this Eskimo Wiseman had to say.

They speared fished, drank more tea and commiserated for the entire morning. That night, they had rainbow trout and pink salmon rolled in corn meal and friend in Crisco. For desert, Walter fried bear bread. They ate the bear bread with blue berries and sugar sprinkled on top.

( This novel concludes with Russ returning to New York to fight for the deal of a lifetime using the principles and new understandings about business taught to him by Walter. Walter arrives in New York to seal the deal on the Otte Communications merger; to Russ’s surprise Walter is more than an elderly Eskimo hunter, he is CEO of one of the multibillion dollar native corporations in Alaska. Interestingly enough, many of these successful CEOs visit historic family hunting camps!)

About The Author

I do not have an Agent. This is my first book. I have lived in Alaska for most of my life. This book is a business novel relating Eskimo teachings with a business twist, in the traditional oral tradition.

Copyright 2008-2009, Darin Hargraves (Expires December 28, 2008)

To request information on this author or a manuscript contact the listed agent or e-mail: dbooth@authorlink.com

Editor/Agent Request for Manuscript/Screenplay

This service is for legitimate publishers, editors and agents only. Please do not request a manuscript or information unless you can verify that you are an active professional in the industry. Thank you!

Note to Editors and Agents: Your contact information will remain highly confidential at all times. The information will be given ONLY to the person whose materials you requested. Thanks.

Author Reference Number	wr801005
Author Name	Darin Hargraves
Your Name
Your Company
Address
City
State
Zip Code
Your Title
Phone Number
E-mail Address
Materials Requested
Enter characters from image below: (we do this to prevent spam)
Phonetic spelling (mp3)

---