All Things Hidden

by Tracie Peterson

  Sweet laughter drifted to her through the open window. She hadn’t heard the girls laugh together for some time. Especially after Gwyn’s near-drowning. And then life started moving forward at a rapid pace. Nasnana had been so busy helping the families that had been displaced by the flood that she’d hardly been able to do much more than offer Gwyn a hug in passing.

  Gwyn and Sadzi walked in the door, smiles on both of their faces.

  “Good morning, Grandmother.”

  “Good morning, Nasnana.” Gwyn leaned down and kissed her cheek. “How was your prayer time?”

  “Very productive.” She grabbed Gwyn’s hand and squeezed. “How have you been doing, my dear? You look thin and pale.”

  “Well, I’m always pale, but I must admit, I often forget to eat.” She pulled the pins out of her curls, ran her fingers through her hair, and began to pin it back up. “Father is constantly on me about it—even more so since the flood—but he’s just as bad. We’ve been too busy to take time to eat. They’re planning on moving the clinic soon.”

  “It makes me appreciate even more that you still make time to come for our Bible studies.” Nasnana patted the sweet girl’s arm. “Our journey through Psalm 139 has been precious to me.”

  “Me too.” Gwyn sat across from her.

  Sadzi brought a teapot from the stove. “Gwyn, catch us up on all the news in the town.”

  “There’s so much going on. I think I told you that there’s been all kinds of mix-ups with shipments. Some of the construction workers they sent up don’t know what they’re doing, but I guess they were so desperate for jobs that they lied about their skills. One of the colonist’s homes has been torn down and restarted three times.”

  “Oh dear.” Nasnana understood the people’s desperation, but the consequences for everyone involved were always difficult to bear.

  “But many of the others are going at a rapid pace. It will take a lot to get everyone in a home by winter, though. Things have been very rough, but the majority of the people understand that pioneering is just that . . . rough. The reporters and photographers are often a nuisance. They want to chronicle every little thing that happens and every dispute, stating that ‘the American people want to know!’” Gwyn waved one of her hands in the air and rolled her eyes. “I don’t mind Mr. Schaleben too much. He seems to genuinely want the best for the people. And the children love posing for his photographs. Since he lives among them, he truly understands. The others, well, they come and go in their fancy suits with their fancy newsreels and cameras. And they like to focus on the naysayers.”

  “I didn’t think there were many complaints. Most of the people I’ve met are happy to be here.”

  “Oh, there are complainers all right. In fact, the latest is a group of a few that have been stirring the pot, so to speak. They wanted their complaints to be taken to the White House, even sent a telegram to Washington. So the president sent up Eugene Carr, who’s supposed to be the troubleshooter for the Federal Emergency Relief Administration. He’s the man that arrived the day the river flooded.”

  “A troubleshooter?” Nasnana questioned. “What a title. A man who will shoot at troubles.”

  “More like a man who will be shot at with complaints,” Gwyn countered.

  “Complaints about what?” Sadzi chimed in.

  “Oh, the prices at the commissary, the shortage of supplies, and the sickness. Most of the colonists want the agitators ousted. They don’t want to be ridiculed for coming to this country, for volunteering to pioneer. But even among those, there are people who are worried that some of the children might die.”

  “Is it that bad?” Nasnana leaned forward, her heart aching.

  Gwyn hesitated before she answered. “Yes, I’m afraid some of the cases are pretty severe. And there’s only so much we can do without adequate medical supplies. We need a hospital, desperately.”

  “Well then, I will add that to our prayer list.” Nasnana wrote on a paper she kept tucked in her Bible.

  “Grandmother, while you are at it, could you pray that Clarence would disappear and leave Gwyn alone?”

  Nasnana looked up and caught Sadzi giving a wink to Gwyn. Her cheeks tinged pink.

  “Sadzi, I told you that in private!” the blonde spit out through clenched teeth. “There are much more important things to pray for.”

  “You want him to disappear? Is that a prayer request?” She poised her pencil over the paper, teasing Gwyn.

  Both hands covered Gwyn’s face. When she let them down, her face was an even deeper shade of pink. “He annoys me to no end. Follows me whenever he gets the chance. Keeps asking me to go on a picnic with him. All he talks about is money and traveling and big cities and luxuries and how I should have all of it. It’s disgusting.”

  “You mean, he’s disgusting,” Sadzi threw in behind her hand.

  Nasnana tossed a scolding glance to Sadzi and then couldn’t help but laugh. Clarence Novak was disgusting. “I’m sorry, Gwyn. We shouldn’t be laughing about this.”

  “I was hoping he’d get the hint at some point. I haven’t encouraged him. I don’t even like being around him. He seems so . . . shady.”

  “What do you mean?” Nasnana’s own senses had been heightened around the man, but she wondered what Gwyn had observed.

  “Have you ever noticed that he’s always completely clean? And yet, he talks nonstop about how much work he’s doing to help his family.” Gwyn held out her hands and turned them over. “And his hands. Not a callous or a splinter anywhere. His look more like women’s hands than mine do!”

  Sadzi poured more tea for all of them. “I haven’t met his family. Are they nice people?”

  “That’s another thing. Suzanne is a sweet Christian lady. But I never see her anymore. I never see William either.”

  “That’s odd.” Sadzi bit into a cookie.

  “And the worst part? I’ve seen Clarence talking with Gertrude Albany on several occasions. And she’s always on a rampage about Indians. Clarence knows how close I am to you, and yet I’ve seen him nodding and whispering to her.”

  A disquiet grew in the pit of Nasnana’s stomach. She needed to temper this discussion. “It’s one thing to tell us why he’s bothering you, Gwyn, but entirely another to be gossiping. I’m not worried about Gertrude or her rumors. She has plenty of reason not to trust us, just as my people have reason to doubt the newcomers. But I’m willing to be patient. Please let it take the time that’s needed to build relationships of trust. Everything is new and overwhelming to these poor souls.”

  “I’m sorry, Nasnana.” Gwyn bowed her head. “I’m just afraid he’s up to something. I don’t trust him.”

  “I don’t either, dear. So maybe we need to add him to the prayer list.”

  “That he would disappear?” Sadzi giggled and grabbed Gwyn’s hand.

  She couldn’t help but smile. “Well, we’ll leave that in God’s hands. But we should at least pray for his soul.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” The girls replied in unison.

  “Now, how are your father and Dr. Vaughan?”

  Pink flooded Gwyn’s cheeks again. She glanced at Sadzi. Apparently the two had already discussed the handsome young doctor. “Father is doing well, but I can tell he’s wearing thin. I don’t think he sleeps more than a couple hours at a time. Jeremiah as well. They both are working around the clock, it seems.”

  Nasnana knew there was more. So she waited. Then prodded. “And?”

  The young blonde peeked up through her curls. “And . . . he called me beautiful the other day but hasn’t said a word to me since. I’m so confused.”

  The rumble of a truck nearing the cabin brought all three women to their feet. Nasnana peered out the window and watched one of the construction trucks barrel toward her front door. It came to an abrupt stop, and Jeremiah jumped out, leaving it running.

  Something was terribly wrong.

  “Gwyn! Gwyn!” Jeremiah yelled and banged on the door.

  Nasnana o
pened it and welcomed him in.

  “Please, there’s no time. I need all of you to come with me now.”

  “What is it?” Gwyn voiced the question she assumed they all had on their minds.

  “It’s Rose. She begged me to come get you. Dr. H. is with her right now.”

  “Is she all right?” Nasnana put on her shoes and waved the girls to the door.

  “It’s little Daniel. I don’t know if he’s going to make it.”

  12

  There had to be some way to get Gwyn’s attention. He’d been subtle so far, but maybe it was time to make more of a move. Granted, it was a small community, but Clarence needed to do something. To stand out.

  And not manual labor. Suzanne kept nagging him about helping in the community garden, and clearing the land, and helping build the house. Didn’t she know who he was? Maybe if he threw a little money at her that would shut her up.

  William was willing to ignore him for the most part. They left together each morning to work, and then Clarence found a way to leave every day in the middle of the chaos. William would keep his mouth shut if he knew what was good for him.

  Besides, Clarence wasn’t one of the original colonists. He didn’t receive all the handouts everyone else did, so he shouldn’t be required to do the work they were doing. It wasn’t like he had any sort of investment here. Not in this barren little shoddy no-name town.

  He walked through camp four and enjoyed watching all the women. They were all married, and dirty, but there were a few pretty faces in the group. Some even wore pants and low-cut blouses. That was what he liked to see. Modern women. What would it take to get Gwyn dressed up in a little number?

  Wouldn’t he love to have her on his arm as they cruised the world, spending all they wanted on rich foods and ritzy hotels? How much longer would he need to wait before he could return to the real world? The isolation of this territory weighed heavily on him. Why, he couldn’t even get decent liquor. It was appalling.

  “Clarence,” a nasal voice accosted him. “I need to speak with you.”

  Gertrude. The woman might be useful at some point, but at the moment she was grating on his nerves. “Yes, Gertrude. What can I do for you?”

  “Didn’t you say you are adept at math?”

  “Yes?”

  “My oldest is wantin’ to go to college, and he’s a bit behind in math. Would you mind helping him?”

  It would be the right thing to do. Even though he didn’t want to. Maybe this could help get him into Gwyn’s good graces. Besides, he needed an excuse to get closer to Gertrude. The woman was an absolute treasure of information. “Why, of course, I’d love to help.”

  “It would have to be after all his chores are finished, but I’m sure you’ve got plenty of time in the evenings.”

  Her insinuation rubbed him the wrong way. “Of course. We can start with once a week. How does that sound?”

  “That will be acceptable. Thank you, Clarence.” She raised her nose in the air and headed toward her tent.

  Clarence stood in the road for a moment as a new idea emerged. It was a bit risky, but it would provide a solution.

  “Good morning, Mr. Novak.” One of the young teen girls from the camp smiled up at him and giggled.

  “Good morning to you too.” He gave her his best smile. Even though he hated children, he knew how important it was to have them on his side. And he needed everyone on his side.

  The young girl went back to digging in the dirt. Didn’t these people have any ambition? They seemed content to just farm and survive.

  Depression or no Depression, Clarence had a far different life in mind.

  And he intended to get it.

  Gwyn looked at her father. She could tell by his expression that Daniel’s condition was grave. “What can I do?” she asked.

  “I’m not sure there’s anything we can do,” he said, keeping his voice low. It didn’t do any good, however.

  “What do you mean? What are you saying?” Rose asked. She cradled her tiny son even closer to her breast. “You have to make him well. He’s all I’ve got.”

  Gwyn knelt down beside the woman. “Rose, we will do everything we can. Did I ever tell you how I used to nurse baby animals back to health when I was a girl?” She wanted desperately to get the woman’s mind off her woes, if only for a few moments. “Father said I had quite a touch. We’ll just have to apply that hard work to Daniel.”

  She glanced up to find her father frowning. She’d been warned in the past about not giving false hope to patients. Her father was a firm believer in being completely honest with people. He felt that to do otherwise bordered on cruelty.

  “He’s all I’ve got,” Rose said again, as if to make certain Gwyn understood her desperation.

  “You’ve got God as well, Rose. He loves you,” she said softly. “Don’t forget that. God created Daniel’s life, and He alone numbers Daniel’s days. But He loves you both.”

  “God isn’t loving. He took Daniel’s father,” Rose said, reminding Gwyn of their previous discussion. “That’s not love. You don’t give somebody something and then just rip it away if you love them.”

  Gwyn couldn’t help but think of her own mother. She had once claimed to love Gwyn, had said she loved her husband too. But then she’d gone away, as if the words meant nothing, as if they were only a lie.

  Nasnana put her hand on Gwyn’s shoulder. “I sent Sadzi for one of the Matanuska village women who recently had a baby. I doubt Rose here is getting enough nourishment to feed little Daniel. We’ll have this woman help in feeding him. Maybe that will restore his strength.”

  Gwyn smiled and nodded at Rose. “That’s a wonderful idea.”

  In her mind she could hear the echoing words of Rose’s husband. “God has provided.”

  JULY 1935

  Too many cases and not enough hands. If only they had a hospital built now. Not that Harold wanted to complain to the government. It was an incredible undertaking to build a colony like this, and many Alaskans were ecstatic that their territory was getting attention and growing. But to rush hundreds of people up here and not have all the pieces in place wasn’t the smartest of moves. Harold would continue to do his best, but he was growing weary. Fast.

  The monumental task would’ve been impossible without Jeremiah. He was so thankful the younger man had decided to come. He hoped he would stay. Could it really be the beginning of July already? Where had all the time gone? How would they be ready for winter?

  And with all the tuberculosis cases and sanitation problems, how were they supposed to keep everyone well? Granted, most of the cases were common—measles, mumps, chicken pox, pinkeye—but there were so many. They were in desperate need of a vehicle for the doctors to get around to everyone in the valley, but all the vehicles were designated for the construction workers.

  He was behind in his notes on all the cases, and they needed another shipment of medication. He’d called Anchorage earlier to see if they could ship up what they could spare on the next train, but they hadn’t received a restocking yet either. More medications were scheduled to arrive on the next ship, which was supposed to dock tomorrow in Seward, but Harold didn’t want to put all his hopes on that.

  A knock sounded on the door behind him. “Come in.”

  Eugene Carr entered. “I’m sorry to bother you, Harold. But I’d like to discuss a few things.”

  “Not a problem. What can I do to help?” Everyone knew Eugene was there by order of the president of the United States. He didn’t want to see the colony fail.

  “Well, you know why I’m here. The newspaper reports were beginning to slant toward negativity, and then we received the telegram from the colonists. What I need to know is how much of it is true. You’ve been here a long time. I’d like to ask for your perspective.”

  “Certainly. But how much of what is true?”

  Eugene held out a piece of paper. “This is the telegram received in Washington. I’d like your thoughts.”

>   Harold took the paper and put on his glasses to read. The message bore no punctuation. Not even a break or the traditional “stop” between thoughts. Harold studied the message a moment to unscramble the words.

  June 18

  Six weeks passed nothing done no houses wells roads Inadequate machinery tools Government food undelivered Commissary prices exorbitant Educational facilities for season doubtful Apparently men sent to pick political plums Irwin and Washington officials OK hands tied Colonists cooperating Request immediate investigation

  Patrick J Hemmer Mrs IM Sandvik

  Colonists Representatives

  “It has only been a few weeks. Sounds like some people are complaining just to complain.”

  “True, but do you see any merit to the complaints?”

  “Mr. Carr, I know how difficult it can be to get the correct supplies up here. Things take time. This is Alaska, not New York City. Let the people settle in; I’m sure it will calm down.”

  “I hope so.” Mr. Carr then handed him a newspaper. “But this was Arville’s article the next day.”

  The headline on the front page read:

  Colonists Appeal to Roosevelt for Aid

  Harold skimmed the article. His heart sank a little. “This states that they are demanding better medical facilities as well.”

  “Yes, that’s why I’m coming to you.” Eugene leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. “The government thought when they first started the colonization that people could go to Anchorage if they needed medical care. But that’s still a good distance. Over forty miles. I know you’ve been here for many years, but your clinic isn’t in the town, and you already had a load of patient care from the settlers and natives who were previously here.”

  A sigh escaped his lips as he glanced out the window. “We don’t have enough medical care. We don’t even have enough supplies.” Harold looked Eugene Carr—troubleshooter for the president—in the eye. “I need to level with you. I would never want to induce a panic in the people here, and that’s why I haven’t said anything, but with all the sicknesses, and so many children in close quarters, I’m concerned. If something started and spread, we could have an epidemic before we knew what hit us.”