Kulluk (Burb)

 When an oil rig crashes in your back yard, you get more barges and ships with supplies, more people, and more money sprinkled around town, including in Tim's pockets!

 He has gotten a lot more hours at the pier, and odd hours they are. He sort of knows the days he works, but never the times. It's whenever the container ship arrives, or in this case, whenever whatever ship needs docking and unloading/loading. In fact, Timmy is pretty whenever too. He is random. No normal office hours. He is a like a Jackson Pollock painting. It makes things interesting, and difficult.

 So, how did I meet his man? Funny story, to me, to us. 

 I was walking on Shelikof with Abby in the stroller. There was this guy walking on the opposite side of the street directly parallel to me. He sort of slowed down, so did I. He sped up, so did I, not really on purpose, just seemed to happen that way. He kept walking though, but I took some initiative and yelled out "Hey you!" I asked him where he from from (since he clearly was not from Kodiak based on his attire). He is from Kodiak. I didn't really believe him. He walked with me and we talked. I was totally weirded out that I had a guy talking to me when I am pushing a stroller (that is not normal!).  We hung out for a couple months. He was pretty weird and I am surprised I continued to hang out with him. I don't know what the hell happened, but we started having a lot of fun together.

The Timmy that was...
The Timmy that was, before the fire, was pretty radical, and pretty fun to be around some times. It's hard to describe him. I only knew him for like five months (seems longer). I had heard a lot about his antics, but only experienced a smidgen. From September to November was, at least thus far, our heyday. Tim has changed a lot in some ways (like less boom and less fireworks), and some a little. He is slightly more aware of how he effects others.

The mid-weeks of January were not pleasant. He just wasn't around and when he was he seemed distressed or very distant. I felt like I had lost him. I guess I did really. He went feral, like a wolf. He ran to the woods for a few days at a time, howled at the moon, and came limping back to my place with a whimper early in the morning. He came to be with me, and eat, and took off again. I picked sticks out of his beard. From what I gather, he felt that I did not deserve him. He would always say to me "what did you do to deserve me?, as in, what  could I have possibly done to deserve someone as wretchedly unworthy as him? At the same as feeling inadequate, he was afraid of losing me. All of this, us, amongst the ruin of his life. It was too much for him to handle.