by Riker, Becky
Mr. Sodergaard rose and turned to the door, but Karlijna stopped him.
“Wait,” she took her coat from where it was draped over a kitchen chair, “I will go to Mr. Spilde.”
“What?” Ingrid’s voice raised in protest.
“Leif,” she turned to her friend, “will you come with me?”
Ingrid looked at her husband and knew he would accompany the girl. She folded her arms across her chest and turned from him.
Mr. Spilde was in his office when Leif and Karlijna entered.
“Mr. Anderson,” the man barely glanced up before returning to the greasy-looking piece of metal on his desk, “what can I do for you?”
“Mr. Spilde,” Karlijna spoke up, “I have a matter I would like to discuss with you.”
The man kept working, “Discuss it then, Miss Bergstrom.”
Karlijna was taken aback, “How did you know my name?”
He grunted, “I make it my business to know who everybody is, especially if they’re going to make the news.”
The girl sat down across from him, “That is just what I had hoped to talk about, Mr. Spilde. I don’t wish to be in the news.”
“I guess you wouldn’t, but your name has been passed around for the last couple months without any proof behind the slander. Don’t worry,” he looked up long enough to raise his eyebrow at her, “tomorrow’s news is going to be better.”
“I know about the letter, Mr. Spilde,” she decided to speak plainly.
“You do, eh?” he continued to tinker with the object in front of him. “How?”
“Mr. Sodergaard showed it to me. Please,” she needed to get on with her purpose, “don’t print the letter.”
The man stopped working and really looked at the girl for the first time since her entrance.
“Did he offer you money?” he asked after a few moments contemplation.
“No!” Karlijna was appalled at the very thought.
“Why? The letter will clear you of all suspicion and put those two liars in their place.”
Karlijna shook her head, “It is not going to help anything to repay their actions with evil of my own. It could hurt Mr. Sodergaard’s business. If you care nothing for him, think of the men who will lose their jobs should his business fail.”
Mr. Spilde rocked a little in his chair. He was quiet for some time.
“Normally,” he took off his wire-rimmed glasses and met her eyes, “I don’t get involved in the gossip around town. A newsman has to be able to be objective. But the things people have been saying about you have been pretty bad. Don’t you want me to end that if I can?”
“I’m leaving in the morning, Mr. Spilde. The lies can’t hurt me anymore.”
The man looked down at his greasy mess, “Where are you going?”
“Is that important?”
He laughed, a hoarse sound that said he didn’t try it often.
“Are you leaving to get away from the gossip?”
Karlijna thought about that question for a moment and decided to answer honestly, “Yes.”
“I won’t print the letter.”
Karlijna beamed, “Thank you.”
“But I’m keeping it and if the talk doesn’t come to an end soon, I’ll be printing it on the front page.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
The women boarded for Chicago and slept the night on the train. At Chicago Karlijna made a smooth transition to the train taking her north to Minneapolis.
It was the middle of the afternoon when Karlijna arrived. She was achy from the trip, smelled like she hadn’t bathed in weeks, and had run out of food that Ingrid had given her. Karlijna had some money but was unwilling to use any more than necessary.
She was wondering how to get word to the Gunderson family when she heard a woman’s voice calling her name.
“Karlijna Bergstrom,” a couple walked through the depot looking from left to right, searching through the crowds of people.
The girl stood quickly and hoisted her suitcases to her hips before calling back, “I am here. I am Karlijna.”
She hadn’t realized she had spoken in German until she felt every eye turn to her. Many looks were unfriendly – even hostile. She recovered as best she could.
“I am Karlijna,” she called to the couple, this time in English.
The couple, turned toward her voice. The woman’s eyes connected with hers first, warm and inviting. Karlijna chanced a look at her husband and found his expression to match his wife’s.
“Karlijna,” the lady reached out both hands to the girl and grasped the thin fingers, “we are glad to meet you. I am Sigrid Gunderson, and this is my husband Will.”
“I are glad to meet you too,” Karlijna knew that wasn’t quite right, but the couple didn’t seem offended.
“Do you have any other luggage?” Mr. Gunderson asked.
Karlijna displayed her two suitcases, “All I have is here.”
“Fine,” Mrs. Gunderson put an arm around the girl and began leading her through the depot, “We’ll need to stop and eat before going back home. I’ve been looking forward to eating out ever since we heard you were coming.”
Karlijna was glad the woman was speaking slowly, but her words were still confusing. Surely, they weren’t going to eat outside. It was a mild day but still December. Nonetheless, Michael’s parents were her hosts, and she was obliged to do as they wished. Karlijna nodded and smiled.
“We can walk to Puddles,” Mrs. Gunderson commented, “but let’s drop your things at the car first.”
Karlijna was again confused. Maybe there was more than one meaning of the word, “drop” and she couldn’t remember what a puddle was, but it sounded vaguely familiar.
“Here,” Mr. Gunderson took her suitcases as they stepped outside, “I’ll carry these for you.”
“Watch yourself,” his wife cautioned, “there is a little ice on the sidewalk.”
It occurred to the girl that perhaps she was being told to be careful, but the thought of trying to actually look at herself struck her as funny. She smiled.
Mrs. Gunderson didn’t notice. She was now talking about the weather they had been experiencing. Mr. Gunderson, though, saw the smile and wondered if the girl was enjoying his wife’s chatter.
“Sig,” he stopped his wife after they had walked a block from the station, “here’s the car.”
The woman stopped and looked in surprise at the vehicle, “Oh,” her softly rounded face broke into a grin, “I guess I was talking so much I lost track of where we were.”
Her husband opened the trunk and stored Karlijna’s cases.
“How did you meet my brothers?” the older woman resumed her chattering as soon as they began walking again.
“I was met Torkel on his boat,” Karlijna explained. “He sailed me from Poland.”
“Oh,” the woman looked bewildered. She was silent for a few yards. Then, “But you aren’t Jewish, are you?”
Karlijna shook her head, amazed at how many people thought it was only the Jews who were suffering, “No. I am a Christian.”
Mrs. Gunderson nodded, her face thoughtful.
Karlijna decided to elaborate a bit, “Many people call a Christian who is no Jew, but I do not, Mrs. Gunderson. A Christian is who follows Jesus. That is me.”
The lady stopped walking and took Karlijna’s hands in her own, “I am so glad, Karlijna. Many people here call themselves Christians too, but don’t follow Jesus. I am glad we agree about this.”
The three resumed walking and were soon standing in front of a building with a sign overhead. Karlijna smiled at the word, ‘Puddles.’
By the smell escaping, she could only assume it was a restaurant. It was such as relief as her stomach was beginning to cramp with hunger. Still wondering if she was going to have to eat out-of-doors, Karlijna followed Mr. and Mrs. Gunderson to a table.
“Do you read English?” Mrs. Gunderson looked up from browsing her menu to ask.
“Yes,” the girl assured he
r with a slight flush, “better than I speak it.”
“Then you must read it very well,” was the gracious reply.
“Thank you, Mrs. Gunderson,” she knew the woman was being polite. There were so many things she still did not understand.
That woman frowned a little, “Please,” she said with a look of consternation on her face, “call us Sig and Will.”
“Are you having trouble with English, Karlijna?” Will asked.
“Sometimes I do,” she admitted, laying her menu on the table.
Sig raised her eyebrows, “What is difficult?”
Karlijna didn’t have a chance to answer.
Will spoke up, “You remember how it was when you were learning English, Sig. There were a lot of little things that confused you.”
Sig nodded, “There are so many words that mean the same thing and then other words that mean many things.”
Karlijna laughed a little, “I think eating out, does not mean we will have our food outside.”
Sig’s eyes grew, “Is that what you thought?”
As Karlijna was nodding, a young lady came to take their order.
“What would you like?”
The couple looked first to Karlijna who, taking her cue from them, spoke slowly to be sure each word was correct, “I will have a bowl of chicken soup, please.”
The girl wrote it down, “Would you like bread with that or a potato?”
Karlijna didn’t think she should indulge herself more than just the cost of the soup, “No, thank you.”
The girl looked up and stared at Karlijna, “You don’t want bread or a potato?” She looked as if she had never heard of such a thing.
Karlijna wondered if that was a rude thing to request. She became uneasy.
Sig rescued the girl, “Karlijna, the soup order comes with a choice of bread or potato.”
Karlijna thought she understood, but had to be certain, “It is cost the same?” she spoke softly to Sig.
“Yes,” Sig’s face and voice were kind.
Karlijna looked to the waitress, “I would like the bread, please.”
The young lady wrote that down and turned to the other two who ordered quickly.
Will turned to the girl as soon as the server had gone, “Do not worry about the cost of this. We will pay.”
Karlijna tried to protest, but it was no use. The couple refused to discuss it and promptly began a new topic, effectively cutting off any further argument.
On the trip home, Karlijna tried to revisit it.
“I do not have belief you should pay for my food.”
Will and Sig were silent.
“I haf money from my job in Sweden. It is changed to American dollars because Michael did this for me.”
Sig turned around and looked at the passenger, “That is fine, Karlijna.You save it for now.”
The girl knew she had to accept the gift, “Thank you.”
Sigrid and Will looked at each other and smiled, realizing what it must have cost the girl to give in so easily.
The trip to Red Wing took over two hours. Karlijna tried to carry on a conversation with her hosts, but found she was not equal to the task. She fell asleep and didn’t wake until Will pulled the car into the Gunderson driveway.
Karlijna sat upright and blinked her eyes. It was dark outside, and the street lights did not shed much light into the back yard.
“Here we are, Karlijna. Will,” she instructed her spouse, “let us off by the back door so we don’t have to trudge through the snow.”
He dutifully did as he was told, “I’ll bring in your things after I put the car away.”
Sigrid opened the kitchen door and bustled her companion inside, “You must be frozen clear through. I wore my winter boots, but your shoes couldn’t have kept much of the cold out.”
Karlijna was cold. She hadn’t been worse than a little chilly when she dozed off, but the temperature had dropped significantly. Her feet ached to the bone, and it felt as though her heavy woolen coat was made of light cotton, so biting was the weather. As she shrugged out of her coat and stepped further into the room, a warm blast of air hit her face.
“I n-n-never knew you could get s-s-so c-c-cold,” Karlijna chattered.
Sig turned from hanging up her own coat, “You poor girl,” she reached out and felt Karlijna’s icy fingers, “Come over to the stove and warm yourself. I wish we would have brought more than that one blanket for you. That back seat gets awfully cold.”
Karlijna was too grateful for the heat seeping through all the frozen members of her body to mention she hadn’t seen a blanket in the seat with her.
“How about a little hot tea?” Sigrid was already bustling about the kitchen. “That will warm us up from the inside out.”
Karlijna had never been much of a tea drinker, but right now it sounded heavenly.
A gust of wind blew Will in the door, “It feels as though we’re in for some more snow.”
Sigrid bustled about, putting tea cups on the table and slicing bread, “I hope not. Your sister won’t bring Sara and Ellie back from the farm if the weather is bad.”
Karlijna was loathe to leave the heat of the wood-burning stove, but she felt a duty to graciousness, “May I be helpful of something?”
Sigrid laughed, “Your lips are blue and your shivering is making me cold,” she pulled a kitchen chair up to the stove, “Here,” she gently pressed the slim girl into it, “I’ll bring the cup to you.”
After removing his outer clothing, Will carried Karlijna’s bags to another part of the house.
“You’ll have to take Michael’s room for now,” Sig watched her husband leave, “the girls’ room isn’t big enough for a third bed.”
Karlijna was getting sleepy so she blurted out, “It will be nice to sleep in a bed after so long time on the floor.”
Sigrid’s eyes opened wide, “You slept on the floor?”
Karlijna wished she had kept her mouth shut. She had no desire to imply that Ingrid and Leif had been less than gracious.
“It was a mattress,” she defended hastily. “It was soft, but it was more cold in winter.”
Sig still looked concerned.
“Ingrid offered a bed in small room, but that was for Michael when he stayed.”
Sig smiled to put the girl at ease, “Here is your tea. Drink it quickly so you can get to bed. I don’t think you’re going to warm up until you are bundled into your covers.”
Karlijna did as she was told, grateful the lady of the house did not wish her to stay up and visit. Karlijna knew she wouldn’t be able to stay awake much longer.
The young lady woke the next morning to see a fresh blanket of snow covering the ground, coating the trees, and even camouflaging the automobiles parked on the street. She climbed slowly from the bed, surprised at how light it was outside. Typically when she woke, it was still dark. With some dismay, she wondered how long she had slept.
“Knock, knock,” a voice sounded outside her door.
Karlijna snatched her robe and called back, “Come in, Sig.”
The lady entered and Karlijna was surprised to see her still in her robe as well. She spoke in Swedish, “Are you nearly ready for breakfast, Karlijna or would you like to bathe first?”
Karlijna responded in English, “Would be problem for I cleaned up before breakfast? I wouldn’t take long.”
Sig waved a hand dismissively, “Don’t worry about how long you take. You can use the tub if you prefer that to a shower.”
Karlijna did prefer. Leif and Ingrid didn’t have a bathtub – just a shower – and she hadn’t felt comfortable using the one at Mr. Sodergaard’s house. It had been nearly a year since she had soaked in a tub.
“In fact,” the woman suggested, “why don’t you take a long bath and that will give me time to make brunch instead.”
“Brunch?” Karlijna did not know what kind of food brunch was.
Sig chuckled, “It is breakfast and lunch mixed together – brunch.”
Karlijna caught on to the new word, “Brunch,” she repeated proudly.
“Really,” the woman leaned forward confidentially thought they were the only two in the hall, “it is just a way to be lazy. It means we can get up late and not have to make a dinner besides.”
Karlijna gathered her toiletries and her clothes for the day and made her way into the bathroom. She hadn’t really noticed it the night before, but it was a lovely room. Decorated in shades of brown and blue, it would have been masculine but for the flower patterned paper. Tan rugs dotted the tile floor and gave the room a cozy feeling.
Karlijna filled the tub with hot water from the tap. Testing the temperature with a toe, she decided it was good. However, when she lowered her body, she realized it was too warm. After adding a little cold water, she tried again. Perfect.
Karlijna laid her head back against the wall and closed her eyes. She couldn’t remember if her last bath had felt this good. She ran her fingers slowly through the tub, causing soft waves to splash over her legs.
Looking down at her body, Karlijna allowed herself to honestly analyze what it had become. Her legs were quite long, and, since she had lost so much weight, they put her in mind of a chicken. Though seventeen, the young girl had not developed much in the way of feminine curves. That could also be attributed to war rations and then her diet in the camp. Thanks to Ingrid’s cooking, Karlijna had put on some weight since her release in April, but there was little to spare on her figure.
With a sigh, Karlijna closed her eyes again. She was determined not to dwell on her shape or lack thereof. Worrying over it was not going to change the truth.
Karlijna’s mother, Edmee, had been tall, but with generous curves. Her father teased his wife that it was one of the things he had liked so well about her. Their children knew Florent Bergstrom was in love with his kind and gentle wife for reasons that went far beyond the physical, but Karlijna also realized there was some truth in his statement.
