The Laptev Virus

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“Your problem, Max, is that you take too many chances,” said Brian.

Max grunted and turned his lips down in a scowl.

“Betting a week’s wages when you only had a straight,” said Ted, chuckling. “Max, Max, we gotta teach you to hold back, think a bit, not just go for it with no fear!”

Max gave Ted a dirty look and set his jaw in grim determination, as if their little game was a serious affair, one that his companions could never understand. “No guts, no glory,” he said.

“Well now, how about another round?” asked Brian, his tone conciliatory and light.

Brian and Max were bunk mates. This was the first time that either of them had lived in the Arctic. Where Max was large, broad of shoulder and belly, Brian was short, slight of build and he always wore a cap, even indoors. Over the weeks the two men had developed a friendship as Brian enjoyed listening to Max’s hunting stories and was good at explaining things about their work in a way that Max could easily understand.

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