A Song of Joy

by Lauraine Snelling

  “I think he has elves who work in the night, or he never sleeps. Cook is allowed out here to pick what she wants for the kitchen, but he likes to harvest too. He likes things done just so. We’ve had peas, and it looks like we’re about to have more.”

  Nilda looked around to make sure George was nowhere in sight and picked two pea pods. Together, they split them open and popped the peas in their mouths.

  “This is the best way to eat peas.” Nilda looked around to find someplace to hide the pods, then tucked them in her waistband. “Thanks to the greenhouse, we had fresh lettuce during the winter and vine-ripened tomatoes.” While she didn’t say it, the thought that wealth could buy comfort had become very real to her.

  “A far distance from life in Norway, and I’m not just talking miles.”

  “Tante Nilda, where are you?” Leif called.

  “Out in the garden. We’re coming back.”

  “Cook says tea is ready, and wait ’til you eat a gingerbread man.”

  Arm in arm, Nilda and her mother strolled back to the verandah. Mrs. Schoenleber was sitting at the glass-topped iron table, still in the shade. When the sun sank farther west, it would reach the flagstone verandah. A breeze came off the river and wafted around the women when they sat down.

  “Mor, what was your surprise?” Nilda asked.

  Gunlaug looked heavenward. “How could I forget that? I received another letter from Ingeborg. She added up the miles. She thinks that Blackduck and Blessing are only about three hundred and fifty miles apart, but the railroads do not go there directly. We would have to go south by rail, then west, then north. But it can surely be done.”

  Nilda turned to her employer. “Mother and Ingeborg are cousins and were best friends when they were growing up. Until there was a fight over some land when one of their uncles died, and the families were never allowed to speak to each other again. Then Ingeborg married and moved to North Dakota to homestead. They never communicated again.”

  “How terribly sad. Whatever is wrong with people who can carry a grudge like that?” Mrs. Schoenleber passed the cookie plate to Gunlaug. “Cook found that cookie cutter somewhere and always hoped she’d have a young visitor to bake for.”

  Nilda grinned at Leif, who was eating the legs off his gingerbread man. “We Carlsons were finally able to visit back and forth, but Ingeborg had moved to America by then.”

  “And you’ve never heard from her? Or about her?” Mrs. Schoenleber asked.

  “They would send letters, asking for relatives to come and work for them on their farm, but no one in our family wanted to go until Ivar, who kept saying that as soon as he was grown enough, he really wanted to go to Blessing.

  “We’ve not talked about it since we came here. Now I don’t know.” Nilda looked at her mother. “What about you, do you want to go there?”

  “I don’t know. It is a long and difficult journey to make, but I have made worse ones. Coming to America, for one. I’ll answer this letter and see what happens.”

  Chapter

  14

  Blowing stumps again today?” Signe refilled Rune’s coffee mug.

  He nodded. “If we can get a couple more acres cleared, the cows can pasture there. We’re going to run out of hay if we don’t do something. Knute, take the sheep to graze along the road tomorrow.”

  Knute made a face. “Can’t that wait for Leif to get back?”

  Kirstin looked up from picking food off her tray. “Ef, Ef, Ef.” She banged her spoon, looking for Leif.

  “Now see what you started.” Signe took a cloth to wash the child’s hands and face, hoping to distract her. It didn’t work. Once she set the little girl down, Kirstin headed for the screen door, still chanting.

  Knute beat his mother to lock the screen door, since he was the last one in for breakfast. “Sorry, Baby, you can’t go outside by yourself.”

  Kirstin banged her palms on the screen door, but when nothing happened, she turned to stare at the others, a frown taking over her forehead. Gerd handed her a toy, but she threw that on the floor. She was working up to a roar when Bjorn scooped her up, set her on his shoulders, and jogged her outside and down the steps.

  Knute hung his head. “Sorry, I . . .”

  “Let’s get going. You and Ivar go harness up the team. I’ll count out the sticks of dynamite. All the tools are still in the wagon, right?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Signe heard Knute muttering as he left. She shook her head.

  “What’s the matter with him?” Rune asked, pushing back his chair.

  “I think he had no idea how much Leif does around here when the rest of you are out in the big trees. Besides having Kirstin with him so much of the time. He misses working out in the trees.” She smiled up at him. Today one eye was more red than the other. “Remind me to wash your eyes in milk tonight.” That always brought him some relief.

  He nodded. “Takk.”

  “Please be careful out there.”

  He paused and looked over his shoulder. “We are always careful.”

  “I know, but . . .”

  He waited, but she just shook her head. Why was she more worried today? She knew that her husband was extremely cautious around the dynamite. After all, they’d been clearing land for the last two weeks. After today, he’d have the boys clean up the pieces so they could plow and disk the cleared acres to plant grass and alfalfa seed. This year the cows could graze on it later in the summer; next year they would cut it for hay.

  She’d heard the discussions many evenings. Between making skis in the shop, felling the big trees, and taking care of farming chores, all of the boys and Rune were working from dawn ’til dark and in the shop by lantern light.

  “All will be well,” Gerd said firmly. “You cannot worry about them. It does no good. We do our part and pray God protects them in theirs. You are the one who told me that more than once.”

  “Mor, here she is back,” Knute called as he mounted the steps. He slid Kirstin into her mother’s arms. “Far said to fill the water jugs for the wagon.”

  “Tell Knute thank you.” Signe waved Kirstin’s hand for her. “Thank you.” She swung her daughter around and carried the giggling little girl back in the house. “You play with the kettles for a while.” She opened the cupboard door and set Kirstin in front of it. “I guess I didn’t realize either how much you-know-who entertains her.”

  “That and having Gunlaug here. Think how often Kirstin plays with her while Gunlaug works at her loom.” Gerd handed the filled jugs to Knute and waved him off.

  “Having them both gone has left a real hole.” Signe sighed.

  When Rufus tore off down the lane, barking, they heard the jangle of a harnessed team. “Who could that be?” Gerd walked out on the porch. “Oskar and Selma are here. He must have come to help with the clearing.”

  “Oh good, Eric and the others will play with Kirstin.”

  Selma stepped into the house. “I hope you don’t mind our dropping in like this. Oskar felt he was supposed to be over here helping, and Eric got all excited to come, and since I am always thrilled to come, here we are.”

  Kirstin paused only a second before she ran to Selma and jabbered at her.

  Eric looked up at his mor. “Kirstin wants to go outside. Can we?”

  Kirstin put on her most imploring face.

  The women looked at each other, shaking their heads. Signe laughed. “I guess she does make sense, at least to someone. Maybe we should keep Eric here to interpret, and we won’t have as many frowning faces.”

  Gerd nodded. “What sounds like jabber to us obviously has meaning.”

  “Where’s Leif?” Eric asked.

  Kirstin stopped her chatter. “Ef?” She ran to the door and banged on the screen.

  Gerd told him, “He and Gunlaug went to visit Nilda in Blackduck. He’ll be back tomorrow.”

  “Can’t be too soon,” Signe muttered.

  Selma smiled. “Why don’t I take the little ones down to the
barn to play with the kittens? Unless there is something you’d like me to do here.”

  “That’s a great idea.”

  The explosion in the distance outside was so loud that it rattled the windows. A minute later, another, followed by three more in succession.

  “Well, we know they’ve been successful.” Signe glanced at the clock. “An hour ’til dinner.”

  “Boom,” said Kirstin.

  “Big booms,” Eric said with a nod. “Five booms.”

  Gerd smiled. “Very good, Eric. You’ve been learning to count.”

  “He can count to twenty and is getting close to figuring out the sequence to one hundred. He can print his name, and we keep singing the alphabet.” Selma smiled at her son. “All in English. He knew some of that already in Norwegian. And Olaf and Katie are learning too. Oskar made them a chalkboard, and they play on that.” She herded the three children ahead of her and out the door, then helped Kirstin down the porch steps.

  Signe watched her cousin. Such a difference now from that frightened young widow who came with Gunlaug. She and Oskar had been married nearly eight or nine months now. Sometimes meddling paid off. Why, Selma had blossomed; she was downright pretty.

  Signe went to stir the ham and beans baking in the oven, which were giving the kitchen the fragrance of home.

  Gerd inhaled deeply and smiled. “I’ll make an extra pan of cornbread. There’s plenty of beans.” She paused. “That Selma, she’s a whole different woman from that ghost who came with Gunlaug. And I would lay money that she’s pregnant, though barely showing.”

  “Do you think so? Oskar looks happier now than I’ve ever seen him.”

  And Signe? She, too, was as happy now as she had ever been in her life. So much family, so much plenty, so much laughter. Her heart was singing.

  “Welcome, Oskar, what brings you out here?” Rune leaned on his shovel handle.

  “A little bird told me you could use some help.” Oskar pulled his leather gloves out of his back pocket. “How many you got wired?”

  “Three. The boys are digging out the next two. I just took a water break.”

  “You got a mattocks out there?”

  “Ja, one.”

  Oskar reached into the bed of his wagon and pulled out another.

  From the far stump came Bjorn’s voice. “Far, we need a pry bar.”

  Rune looked in the wagon and shook his head. “Back at the shop.”

  “I have one.” Oskar reached into his wagon again. “Anything else?”

  Rune shook his head. “More hands than I’m used to. Thanks, I appreciate this.” The two men walked out to where the boys were digging.

  “We got a big rock here.” Ivar pointed to a chunk of stone. “Way under the stump.”

  “Well, we sure don’t want that flying through the air.” Oskar rammed the pry bar into the ground at an angle until it hit stone. “That is a big one.” He picked up his mattocks. “Come on, Knute, let’s dig a bigger hole.” They faced each other and swung the wider blades down in the hole, then pulled the dirt out along the side of the rock.

  Rune drove the pry bar down farther, but it still hit the rock. “Might take dynamite to blow that out of there. You boys got the other side dug out for the sticks? The size this tree was, I felt bad bringing it down. One of the granddaddies.”

  Oskar nodded. “Had one like that over at my place. My pa wanted to leave it, but he really needed the money. Near to broke his heart when that giant hit the ground. He left the stump as a memorial. It’s still there. We buried him and Ma both out there. Fenced the whole thing in for a burial site. Planted another pine tree there. It’s thirty or forty feet tall now. We take picnics out there sometimes.”

  While he talked, he kept slamming the mattocks into the ground. Knute was slowing down. He gave up and handed his mattocks to Bjorn.

  “We’re going to have to climb down in that hole pretty soon.” Rune handed the pry bar to Ivar, who jumped in the hole and stabbed the pry bar in at the same angle.

  “Got it. But it’s too big to pry out. What if we blow the stump, and maybe it will loosen the boulder?”

  Oskar and Rune both nodded. They inserted three sticks of dynamite around the other side of the stump. “And we’ll get far away.”

  Oskar took the boys to the next stump while Ivar and Rune planted the explosives and ran the fuse back toward the wagons. By the time noon was drawing near, they had five stumps ready to blow.

  “What if we set off the others and after they go, do this one. It just seems safer to me.” Rune looked out across their field and nodded. “Ja, that is what we will do.”

  “Bjorn, how about moving my team over there?” Oskar pointed a ways away. “And then I’ll stay with them while you go back to the barn.” He had learned of the lightning strike that damaged Bjorn’s hearing and that since then, Bjorn never stayed near the blasting zone.

  “Knute, you do the same,” Rune said. “Before we set anything off, Oskar, would you please do another inspection? Ivar and I already did, but I don’t trust this a bit.”

  When both horses and humans were back with the wagons, Rune handed Ivar the matches. “Don’t take any chances.” Sometimes the fuses went out or went faster than normal.

  One by one, starting at the farthest, the sound hit them after the stump, along with rocks and dirt and pinecones, lifted in the air. Some of the lighter pieces came as far as the wagons and rained down on them. Knute pulled off his hat and slapped it against his thigh before setting it back on his head.

  Rune and Oskar looked at each other, and both nodded. “Set off the big one, Ivar. I left longer fuses on that one.”

  They watched as Ivar struck the matches and waited to make sure the fuses were burning before he trotted back to the other side of the wagons. He turned and watched with the others. The first two blasts were simultaneous; the debris was falling when the next stick blew and then the final one under the rock. The stump lifted and fell to one side while the great stone rose six feet in the air, shattering as it blew.

  “Well, at least we won’t have to try to move that monster. Those pieces are big enough.” Ivar brushed dirt and bits of wood off his shoulders. “You want to clear this afternoon or blow some more?”

  “Why don’t you blow more, since you have these extra hands to help you?” Oskar held out his hands. “Good thing you had the sheep penned up, or they would have hightailed it as far as they could get.”

  “I don’t think the cows even looked up.” Knute climbed up on the wagon seat. “Let’s go eat.”

  They unharnessed the teams and let them loose in the pasture, where they immediately headed for the water trough.

  Bjorn walked to the house with them. “That was something to see, even from the barn.”

  Rune shook his head. “Even the thought of using the dynamite gives me nightmares. Something can go wrong so easily.”

  Oskar nodded. “I know a man up north who lost his eye when some little piece of wood struck him. That’s why I always say cover your head.”

  “I watched that big one,” Rune confessed. “We could have added another stick, but this worked. Maybe we’ll just bury the pieces of rock down in that hole. It should be deep enough for them not to work their way to the surface.”

  As they described the blasting over dinner, Signe shook her head. “It rattled the windows here. If there are flat pieces, perhaps we could use them to make a path to the outhouse.”

  “We’ll look. That’s a good idea.”

  “You should have seen that rock lift and break apart,” Knute said.

  Signe stared at Knute. “I thought you always kept your heads down.”

  “I did for the others, but that one was different. It was so big.” Knute gave her his most pleading look.

  She looked to Bjorn. “And you?”

  “I was at the barn like you said I had to be. Good thing, because the explosion made the sheep panic, and they all piled together in one corner. I waded in and made them move
. Some were too scared to even move, so I picked them up and set them back. How come sheep are so stupid?”

  “When Jesus called us sheep, He wasn’t paying people a compliment, was He?” Knute looked to his far, shaking his head.

  Rune smiled. “You’re right, son, but sheep are good followers. When their master calls them, they recognize His voice and follow. That’s what Jesus wants us to do. A shepherd has a big responsibility to keep the sheep safe and alive.”

  “Leif is a good shepherd. They follow him.”

  “Ja, they know his voice.”

  Bjorn shrugged. “I sure hope none of them die. He’ll blame me, but I tried.”

  “Good thing they were in the barn,” Oskar said again. “They might still be running, right through fences, if they’d been out in the pasture.”

  Kirstin banged her spoon on her tray.

  “That’s enough.” Signe caught her hand and held it.

  Kirstin glared at her. “Ef, Ef.”

  “Sorry. He’s not here right now.”

  Eric climbed down from his chair and went to stand by the high chair. He made a face at Kirstin. She stared at him. He made another. A smile started on her face. He stuck out his tongue, and she giggled and reached for his hair. When he backed away, he made another face.

  The others watched the two children play.

  “Thank you, Eric.” Signe patted his shoulder. “You get back in your chair and finish your dinner.”

  Oskar smiled at his son. When he had married Selma, he got Eric as part of the package, and now he referred to both boys as his sons. Olaf, five, and Katie, three, had come into the marriage with him. Now, Selma and Oskar were making sure all three children felt like part of the new family. Eric was learning English a lot faster than his mor was. She and Gunlaug attended the English classes Mr. Larsson taught at the church one evening a week during the longer days.

  When they finished dinner, including chocolate cream pie for dessert, the men and boys filled jugs with water and returned to the field. Rune stopped by the sheep pen with Knute. The sheep were milling around bleating their complaints about being locked in the pen.