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toward the community building, the only building with running water. The ordinary life of this village went unobserved by the tourists. You would hardly know there were people living here when the boat was at the dock. But now, as the visitors made their way back to town, the villagers emerged to resume their daily lives.
    From the dock the whole town was visible. A couple dozen houses framed a small, sheltered harbor where the only vessels in sight were a few kayaks. The houses were painted in the colors seen all over Greenland—brick red, mustardy yellow, bright green and sky blue, each one built in the same style, steeply slanted roof, a square attic window above a white front door with two small windows on either side of that. Each roof had an identical chimney and all the buildings were trimmed in white. The only difference between the dwellings was the color of paint.
    Drying on wooden and twine racks throughout the village was the staple food for the sled dogs, halibut. The couple dozen adult dogs were chained in a cluster on a small hill and several thick-furred puppies frolicked loose. Next to one of the houses a red snowmobile was parked, useless until autumn.
    Kelly and Pippa stood in front of the post office and general store, the Pilersuisoq. The only other commercial building in town was a restaurant, a brick-red building across the harbor that survived by serving lunches to tourists and the occasional group of hikers.
    “Was she flirting with you?” Pippa asked, sounding slightly annoyed.
    “Sonja? A little.”
    “Do you like her?”
    “No idea. I just met her. She seems okay.”
    Pippa was curious about the lesbian dating game, Kelly decided. Though she hadn’t come right out and said it, she had thrown out a few timid remarks that suggested she might be gay. Or at least wondering if she was. Without a community of lesbians around, she naturally had questions about how women get together.
    “Are you going to see her again?” she persisted.
    “I don’t know, Pippa. Flirting is just harmless fun. It doesn’t have to mean anything.” She put a hand on Pippa’s shoulder. “Come on, let’s get going.”
    “In a minute. I want to get some ræklinger first.” Pippa nodded toward the little store.
    “Oh, crap! Are you going to eat that stuff on the trail?”
    “You don’t have to eat it.”
    “I won’t, believe me!” Kelly wrinkled up her face in disgust. Remembering the one bite she’d had of the stuff the last time she was here, even the thought of the dried halibut made her cringe.
    “You don’t have to kiss me either,” Pippa said cheekily, casting a sideways glance at her before sauntering toward the store.
    Kelly stood where she was, taken off guard by Pippa’s joking comment, then roused herself to follow. For such a small space, Pilersuisoq had a remarkable array of goods, like an old-fashioned general store—food, fishing equipment, clothing, CDs and DVDs, small appliances, tools. There wasn’t much choice of any one thing, but there were lots of things. Since this was the only place to shop for twenty kilometers around, the inventory had to be diverse.
    Pippa found her ræklinger, sold in a small package, which surprised Kelly, considering the racks and racks of dried halibut throughout town. She decided these packages were for the tourists looking for a fitting souvenir. Fitting, maybe, but not edible for anyone who wasn’t raised on it. She was sure of that. It was the worst thing she’d ever tasted. Dry and sponge-like, unsalted, with an intense rotten fish flavor that lingered on your tongue long after you’d spit it out. Pippa, like other Greenlanders, loved the stuff and ate it as a snack.
    After leaving the store, they put on their packs and started on their journey, heading south along a rocky ridge. Rodebay remained clearly visible behind them for the first kilometer before they dropped down over the ridge and lost sight of both the town and the bay. Now there was no