Cold Determination

by Jennifer Lyons

  Nils

  The days grew longer and even though I missed Rosa, I was doing good.

  Miss Fink told me she was proud of my hard work and sent good news home to Mama. I would pass into the next grade. Peter would as well. Mama was very proud and told anyone who would listen.

  Peter expanded our trapping line. We still trapped rabbits, but he wanted to start targeting fox and whatever else may come our way. He had a good plan. Instead of setting only one trap in each little area, we would set two. We extended our line from the fields all the way to the creek. He figured if we did this, we could make up to twenty cents a week just from trapping. Peter also found another buyer so we wouldn’t need to rely on that old woman anymore. He said he had plans for our money; we would buy new traps every week until we had enough to fill our line.

  Peter was a perfectionist with those traps. He laid them each night and checked them every afternoon before we fished or swam. He taught me to never let animal suffer and how to skin and clean them. It was alright work. I liked it better than sitting inside at school. We hid our coins in the bottom of our suitcase without telling Mama. She would figure it out soon enough.

  One day, I woke up discovering I had lost a tooth. I wasn’t ready for this. I couldn’t be a grown up and I wasn’t ready to leave Mama. I was so embarrassed, I refused to talk or even open my mouth much. It took two days for Mama to drag the truth from me. Finally, in a flood of tears, I explained my fears of my impending adulthood. We were doing our wash and I had just climbed out of the tub. Mama pulled me close, ignoring my wet hair in her chest. I could feel her shoulders shake and she didn’t speak. When she let me go, I saw her wipe tears out of her eyes but she told me I would be alright; I didn’t have to go just yet. I thought she had cried with me until I heard her telling Miss Vicki about it later. The tears were from laughter, nothing else. I wasn’t a man yet and from the way Miss Vicki and Mama were laughing, I had a long way to go. I was more relieved than offended.

  Life went along alright for the three of us. It wasn’t glamorous, but we were together each night. Mama told us that is what counted most. Peter and I noticed her smiling more as the days went on, and it was nice to hear her laugh. Mama was doing good and it showed.

  She walked down the hallways with a graceful strength admired by all. She didn’t look away from Mr. Joclav when he looked her over. She laughed with Miss Vicki and Miss Kate and kept up on all her duties. She started going to mass every Sundays. Her eyes showed a resilient healing each time she woke. She was no longer tired and ill with a stretched mouth. I was so proud of her even though I wished she wouldn’t make us go to church.

  Peter hated it more than I did. We sat, we kneeled, we prayed, and most of all, we fidgeted. I think Mama liked the rest; after all, she stood and ran all week. For Peter and me, it was a nightmare trying to be still. Every few minutes, she pinched us hard under our arms to make us quiet down again. As much as those little pinches hurt, we sure forgot quickly. We would be back to fidgeting only to earn them again.

  One Saturday evening, I noticed a man we had seen a few times before. He was in our restaurant, and I could tell he was watching for our mama. I knew he watched for her whenever he was in. He never said much to her. He just took his food and quietly ate. He was young and very quiet.

  Most young men had something to prove—they would shout and run to get attention. This man was different though. He always ate quickly and paid before he left. He didn’t try and grab anyone. He always took his hat off when he came in our building.

  Mama didn’t seem to take any special notice of him. She was busy, I suppose. The man ate and quietly left. The very next day, I saw him in church. I had never seen him there before, and he looked absolutely lost.

  He didn’t know when to kneel or when to pray. He tried being respectful but he was a mess. I guessed he wasn’t Catholic. I saw his eyes wander over to us, catching every pinch and fidget as we kneeled and sang our way through the service. After the priest dismissed us, he came right over to our Mama.

  Hat in hand, he looked as fidgety as Peter and I were. Peter glared at him.

  “Hello there,” came a quiet, soothing voice that caught Mama’s attention.

  She looked over. “Hallo.” Then she turned to us and said, “Boys, come.”

  I was so happy church was over and we could leave, I raced on out the door, leaving Mama with the quiet young man. I glanced back and saw him gesture her ahead of him down the aisle. Mama smiled, very pleased.

  We walked back to our building, and Mama and the man followed. They didn’t talk. They just walked along watching us. I noticed the young man looked pleased and when we got to the backdoor of the kitchen, he asked, “Could I come talk to you again, Katarzyna?” So, they had introduced themselves. I raised my eyebrows to Peter. We paid closer attention. Our beautiful Mama, always graceful and perfect, looked flustered. I hadn’t seen her look like that before.

  Color rose into her cheeks and her eyes widened. She didn’t say any words back at all; she just nodded and smiled. Then, she ushered us inside and followed quickly.

  Peter and I weren’t going to waste such a day indoors, we ran out almost as soon as the door closed behind us. Mama was busy, and we wanted to check our trapline. The quiet man was just turning the corner as we ran past him. Peter and I didn’t notice him follow us.

  I followed Peter out to the end of town into the open fields towards the creek. Our first trap on the line had trapped a fox just two days before. I could tell Peter was hoping for another. The trap was hidden well, right down in a little hollow near a tree not too far from the creek. There were actually two, just as Peter planned, and we knew we had something—we could hear it before we saw it.

  Peter skidded to a stop and peered over the edge and sure enough, one trap was full. A good-sized fox was yowling trying to escape. Peter clubbed him to sleep, and we set about collecting the pelt.

  “You boys seem to know what you’re doing.” The voice came from nowhere, and Peter dropped the fox in his surprise. The quiet man followed us to our line, and I could tell Peter didn’t like that. I myself wasn’t too sure how I felt about it either.

  “Don’t worry, I won’t take your catch. I just was curious where you were running to in such a hurry.” His voice was soft and soothing, curious and honest. Before long, Peter and I were telling him all about our line. We told how we started with just the two traps and grown it into twelve. The man was impressed; he raised his eyebrows, “How did you know where to put the traps?”

  I couldn’t answer, I never did figure out how Peter know just where to lay them. Peter just shrugged and muttered, “It just feels right.”

  He followed us up our line where we collected four more pelts. We finally reached the creek. Peter and I splashed around, washing off the blood and hair from skinning our catch. It was warm, and I was wondering if we could swim when Peter asked, “Why are you following our mama to church? You don’t act Catholic.” If Mama had been there, she would have admonished his rudeness. I didn’t care. I was curious, so I waited in silence.

  “It just feels right.”

  Peter and I looked up, and Peter laughed. “My name’s Peter, and this is Jurak.”

  “Mine is Nils.” I thought the name fitted him as he was quiet and unassuming. “I came here from Sweden. I got this job working the railroad and now I am thinking I will live here. People are nice, and I have work.”

  Peter looked over at me, his eyes thoughtful. It looked like Nils was going to stay. After that day, we saw Nils quite often. He went to church but still didn’t understand about the kneeling. We saw him eating in the restaurant. He ate there most nights and every Sunday. He never bothered Mama. He seemed content to wait and just enjoyed being near her. I could tell that it both pleased her and made her nervous.

  Nils also followed us out to our trapline every Saturday. He never pushed in to show us the right way to do things, he let us to figure it out. He watched and listened as we told
him about school. I told him about Victoria. That made him laugh and Peter grumble. I told him about our sweets and how Peter bought us one each week and that my favorite was strawberry. Nils said he liked ginger. It was the only thing I found I didn’t really like about him.

  A few weeks later, I told him about Rosa. Peter was swimming and being loud, but I was missing Rosa. I was just sitting on the edge of the bank. Somehow, I thought she would have liked where it was warm and sunny. Nils asked me how I was, and I got tearful. I told him what a good cat and friend she had been. I told him how she liked her fish and how she always followed me without me having to ask. I told him how she had watched over Mama. His brow furrowed the more I talked. I finally told him how Mr. Joclav smashed her to death. It broke my heart even after so many weeks.

  “Rosa never hurt anyone. She never went inside and she never took food from the kitchen. I don’t know why he killed her,” I finished.

  Nils didn’t say anything. He was quiet and looked out over the water, watching Peter for a time. I caught my breath and controlled my sobs while he watched.

  “Some people are just mean, Jurak. They take anything soft and nice and try to ruin it. Life is hard, but no one should be that hard.” He ruffled my hair. I felt better, but Nils looked distant the rest of the day.

  The next day was Sunday and we went to church. Nils now sat with us which was nice because Mama forgot to pinch us for fidgeting. She was kept too busy whispering to him to kneel or stand. Afterwards, he walked us home. Sundays were nice.

  Falls

  Nils came around more and more often. Peter finally asked Mama about it one Monday after our washing. “Mama, what does Nils want with us?”

  Mama was busy with her back turned, but I could tell she was smiling. The sides of her face had grown full. She took her time answering. “He is a nice man, Peter. I am happy to call him a friend.”

  Peter and I glanced at each other. We now had even less information than before Peter asked. Mama finished with her hair, and Peter and I helped carry our things back to our room. We hung our wash and Mama opened our window further. Summer was wonderful. Days weren’t too hot and each evening there was a soft breeze cooling the earth around us. The noise from the street mingled with the noise of our building. As rough as life had been and in spite of our losses, the three of us had somehow made a fine home.

  “I like Nils very much,” Mama whispered as we were falling asleep. I smiled. I liked him too.

  A few days went by and Mama started talking about school again. Peter and I had an excellent trapping business going. We fished every day and feasted every night. I didn’t want to think about sitting in school all day. I certainly didn’t want to think about the cold that would envelop the world again. Summer was too good. I heard Peter sigh deeply. He hated the thought of winter too.

  One day, on our way to check our trapping line, we ran into Miss Fink. Peter and I both liked her a lot, but the chance encounter put a damper on our day. She smiled at us and we straightened our backs to offer our hellos. She asked, “What have you been up to this summer?” Peter told her all about our line, and I told her about fishing. She smiled and nodded. We didn’t think to ask how her summer was.

  “I don’t want to start school again, Jurak,” Peter said as she walked away. He didn’t need an answer. He was just stating what every kid feels like at the end of every summer. Peter and I were totally free and giving that up came at a great price, especially for Peter.

  He hated the feel of long sleeves. He hated the lack of wind in his face. He hated someone else being in charge of his minutes and hours. School, for him, was little more than a detention reminding us of the summer we lost each year.

  I was content, though, but all of August still stretched in front of us. I tried to forget the upcoming school year and enjoyed all our adventures. Each morning, bright and early, Mama or Miss Florence would give us a good helping of bread and milk. Then, we ran to the edge of town. Before we took off through the fields, I would stand and breathe in all the good smells of the countryside. Peter and I ran up and down our trapping line and spent our afternoons in the water. Even though we spent each day the same, we never tired of the routine. I think the fresh air brought something new to us each and every day.

  Nils loyally followed us every Saturday. One of those afternoons, he asked us about our father. He wanted to know what he was like. Peter asked him why he wanted to know about him.

  “I want to know you better, that is all,” Nils said softly.

  “Ok, well do you know about our Rosie?” Peter challenged him. I couldn’t understand why Peter was so defensive. Nils had only asked about our father. He had never met him and, in this life, he never would. It didn’t seem like something to be defensive over. Nils was a nice man. Nils shook his head. He didn’t know about our Rosie.

  I gave a sad smile. My heart ached for Rosie and our papa still, but we didn’t talk about either of them often enough.

  “She was our ugly baby. She looked like a potato,” I explained.

  “She wasn’t ugly and she wasn’t a potato,” Peter sounded almost angry. “She was our baby sister. You can ask Mama; she was perfect. She had golden curls and pink cheeks. She was soft just like Mama. She died after Christmas two years ago after she got a cough.”

  “Well, before she got the curls, she looked like a potato,” I explained to Nils. “After she grew up, she was pretty with pink cheeks. She always smiled at us, and we had to hold her a lot while Mama cleaned up our house or made us dinner. We were helping her learn to walk when she got sick.”

  Nils looked thoughtful. “I had a baby sister. Everyone told us she was beautiful, but now that you mention it, she did look a little like a potato when she was first born.” I shot a triumphant look at Peter. After all, it wasn’t Rosie’s fault she had looked like a potato. We loved her even when she looked like one. “She died of a cough, just like your Rosie, when she was very small. Our mother cried for days and didn’t like leaving her in the ground in the cold. I didn’t like it. It seemed lonesome. I had a grandmother who was kind though. She told us the angels would keep her company, and I believe her. I don’t think your Rosie or our little potato are alone. You see, potatoes grow in bunches after all.”

  Peter watched Nils with a softer expression. “Well, Rosie didn’t look much like a potato if you ask me, but it is nice to think she isn’t alone.” Peter sounded very old. “Our mama was terribly sad for days after she died, just like yours. It seemed like only a few days went by and then our papa got sick too. Then, he just died,” Peter’s voice caught, and I saw him wipe a tear away. “He just died, and there was nothing Jurak and I could do. We wanted to work to help Mama, but we are just kids. Then, she left. She left him with us in our house for hours. His eyes were open and his body was dead.” Peter had to stop talking.

  “Our Aunt Anya—she’s Mama’s sister—finally came and helped us. She tried to close his eyes, but only one wanted to shut. We left him and went to stay with her. We never saw him after that. He was big and tall. He was loud. He made all of us believe him no matter what he said. He told us stories about dragons in the mines and old women hunting children in the mountains.” I had never talked to anyone, not even Peter or Mama about Papa since we left our house. “He worked all the time for us, and Mama was very proud. She told us he would do anything for us, even steal if he had to. I thought he would live forever.”

  The three of us were very quiet for a long time after that. Nils patted Peter’s back and rubbed my shoulder when we left. None of us ever said anything more about that day, but we were closer after that, and Peter never got defensive with Nils again. Not ever.

  We didn’t see Nils in church that Sunday and we could tell Mama was disappointed. I watched her look for him. Her eyes scanned the church over and over again. She pinched more than ever that day and after the service, she hurried home, snapping at us to hurry. I wasn’t used to such a mood from Mama on a Sunday, and my stomach had that pinched
feeling. “Where is Nils?” Peter whispered to me. I just shook my head; I had no idea.

  We didn’t see Nils the rest of that day nor all the way into next week. He finally showed up the next Saturday. Peter asked where he had been. Nils told us he had business. We accepted that answer, but I told him how much Mama had missed him. I think he liked that because he smiled a big smile.

  We did our trapping and fishing and brought it all back to town. When Mama saw Nils waiting at the backdoor with us, she acted as if she hadn’t missed him. She barely looked at him as she told us, “You boys come in and wash up. I will fry this fish.” Then, she acted like she had only just noticed Nils was with us. “Oh hello, Nils. Are you staying for fish?”

  Nils ate with us sometimes but not often. I hoped he would stay, but Mama didn’t sound too welcoming. Nils smiled big, and Peter and I kept quiet. He nodded to Mama. Mama didn’t even smile back. Peter and I pushed in—we were hungry.

  Nils took Mama’s hand before she went in. “I will be in church tomorrow. I was sorry to miss it last week,” Mama smiled. After that, she was nicer.

  School started the next week, and Peter and I were penned indoors for at least half each day. Miss Fink said she was happy to have us all back but she glanced out the windows as often as everyone else. Then, she dismissed us five minutes early all week. No one complained.

  Life took on a new normal in the following weeks, and Peter and I kept up our trapping line pretty good, even with having to do school in the mornings. The days were getting colder and one day, we woke to frost. That day was a turning point for the three of us, though it would take looking back and remembering it all to know life turned that day.

  It was a normal morning. Peter and I ate our bread and milk and then ran to school. The frost didn’t stay long. Miss Fink had gotten used to having students again and did not dismiss us early. I followed Peter out of town to check our traps. A terrible yowling noise greeted us.