To Everything a Season

by Lauraine Snelling

  Miriam waited by the front door for the driver with the carriage. She smiled when Mrs. Korsheski stepped up beside her.

  “I decided to go with you, if that is all right.”

  “Of course. I can get my mother ready while you tell the others what you have in mind.” Telling your supervisor what to do, are you? Please, Miriam, do not be so bossy. She flinched at the instructions that flew through her mind. “Please pardon me for my effrontery.”

  “No. That is one of the many things I like about you. You are forthright and well organized. You see how things should be done, and you are not afraid to step out and do them.”

  “I . . . uh . . . uh . . .” Miriam blinked, trying to accept what Mrs. Korsheski had said. For a woman who was usually so chary with her commendations to lay out a list of good attributes was almost beyond believing. “Thank you,” she croaked around the blockage in her throat.

  “That is one of the major reasons I want you to go to Blessing. You will be a real help for the doctors Bjorklund, and I am sure you will help in the training of the two Indian women who will be joining as students in September. Astrid, Elizabeth, and Ingeborg trained two Indian women last year to assist Dr. Red Hawk. Do you remember him?”

  “Of course. He was so looking forward to returning to help his people.” She had a memory of the young doctor encouraging a child to try harder. “This hospital has a wide circle of influence, doesn’t it? I didn’t realize how much was happening.”

  The lovely black landau pulled in close to the curb.

  “Ready, Nurses?” The driver hopped down and held open the door for them. What luxury!

  The driver helped them down and glared at a couple of little boys who were edging too close to the horses, one of which stamped a front hoof and snorted. “Stay back a’fore you get hurt.”

  They drew considerable attention when the carriage entered the tenements. People stopped on the trash-strewn sidewalks to look, and children chased them down the street. Embarrassment crept heat up Miriam’s neck as they mounted the four flights of stairs. She was used to the stench, the filth, but having Mrs. Korsheski with her heightened her awareness of the squalor. If only she could get her family out of there. That was one reason she had gone into nurses’ training—to make enough money to move her family to someplace better. She rapped the signal on the door and heard someone approaching.

  “Who is it?” Joy’s voice.

  “Miriam, along with Mrs. Korsheski.” The door flew open, and Joy threw her arms around her sister.

  “You are back so soon!” She raised her voice. “Ma, Miriam is here!” Then she eased backward so they could enter. At least the flat was in order and clean as always, such a reprieve from the hallway.

  “Mother wants to know if you are all right.” Mercy came through the bedroom door. “Oh, we have company.” In her fluster, she failed to greet Mrs. Korsheski.

  “Hello, Mercy. I decided to come because we have some good news for all of you.” Mrs. Korsheski didn’t seem to mind any of their confusion.

  Miriam led the way into her mother’s bedroom. “Is today better?” she whispered to Mercy as she passed by her.

  “Yes, much.” She leaned over the bed. “Mother, Mrs. Korsheski is here from the hospital with Miriam. Would you like me to help you sit up with pillows?”

  “Aye, please.” She struggled and scooted as Mercy arranged her pillows. “Oh, Miriam, we get to see you again before you leave.” She clasped her daughter’s hand. “And welcome to our home, Mrs. Korsheski. I am sorry we have nothing to offer you. We’re out of tea, but Mercy planned to get some tomorrow.”

  “No, thank you. We need nothing. We have good news for you and the children. We want to admit you to the hospital again for observation, to see if there is any way we can help you. There may be some new treatments to try. Are you willing?”

  “Oh yes. Aye!” And Miriam’s mother, so careful to use American English, slipped into her brogue. “’Twould be . . . aye. Treatments. Do ye really think?”

  “We’ll see. Miriam, you prepare her. Children, all of you come out here with me.” And Mrs. Korsheski left the bedroom.

  “Eh, Miriam, I am so flustered, I canna think. I must dress.”

  “Is your wrapper in the clothespress?”

  “Aye.”

  Miriam studied her a moment. Her mother was paler than ever, her skin cool to the touch, her fingers cold. “Then we will take you like this.” She pawed through the clothespress. Everyone’s clothing was in this one wardrobe.

  “That Mrs. Korsheski, such a lovely lady.”

  “She is indeed.” Miriam pulled out the old threadbare robe and brought it to the bed. “She has jobs for Este and Mercy and even Tonio, if his present work ends. There will be more money coming to you. She saw to it. We have so much to be grateful for.”

  “Jobs! Eh, Miriam, do you not hear angels singing?”

  No, Miriam did not. As she tucked her mother into the wrapper, her despair silenced any angels up there. Her mother had lost so much weight. Thin arms, weak legs. Miriam should definitely not be leaving her. But with all Mrs. Korsheski had arranged, Miriam dare not stay here. She helped her mother to her feet and supported her as they shuffled out into the living room.

  Mrs. Korsheski was already explaining to the others all that she had arranged. The surprise and joy on their faces was evident.

  “Shall I send the children down for the driver to come get her?” Mrs. Korsheski asked when they were all ready to leave.

  “Mercy and I can manage, I think. She is so thin she weighs nothing.”

  Mrs. Korsheski pointed to Este. “Bring some blankets.”

  He ran back to the bedroom.

  Mercy and Miriam supported their mother so much, they were practically carrying her. They were forced to stop on each landing to regroup, but they got her to the ground floor without any mishaps. The driver lifted her up into the buggy without even a puff of exertion. Este handed up the blankets and they wrapped her up, for in spite of the warm sun, she was shivering.

  “Need I go get another blanket?” Mercy asked.

  Mother’s voice was so weak, and she was back to her careful American English. “No, thank you, Mercy. I will be very comfortable in a moment. I must get my breath is all.”

  Miriam sat on one side of their mother and Mercy on the other, both of them rubbing her arms and shoulders. Mrs. Korsheski shared the other seat with Este and the two girls, whose eyes were round and smiles stretching their faces.

  Miriam almost smiled. Never had any of them ridden through the streets in such splendor. No wonder her family was so excited. Mother laid her head back on the seat and closed her eyes, but at least she had stopped shivering. That feeling of doom pressed in again, the ache of knowing that as of tomorrow afternoon, Miriam would not see any of them again for an entire year.

  At the hospital, two of the aides brought out a stretcher, which made Mama’s trip inside far easier. Once she was settled in a bed, the two younger girls sat on either side of her bed and rubbed her hands.

  “You go to sleep, Mama,” cooed Joy. “You can rest well here, and you are not to worry about us. Why, Mrs. Korsheski even gave us money to take the trolley home. Mercy is meeting with her now. Este is talking to the man who takes care of the garden, and then he will talk with the cook. After that we will go home to tell Tonio all the good news. Won’t he be happy too?”

  “He will. And to think I will see at least some of you every day. What a gift that is. At church on Sunday, you remember to thank our Father for all this He has given us.”

  “We will.”

  “But you are not to tell people I am not at home.”

  “If you want.” They had only one neighbor who would even care, but Mama was always very careful ever since Papa had been killed. Life had taken a terrible turn after that.

  Miriam hugged them all a bit later as they were ready to leave and she’d changed back into her apron and cap. “You be careful now,” she reminded
them. “And make sure you write. I will send you my address right away.”

  “A year is so long,” Truth said with a sigh. “Our home is not the same with you gone. And now Mama too. I wish I could go with you. They probably have a school in that town you are going to.”

  “I’m sure they do, but I do not know where I will be living. The year will go by fast, and then I will be back again. You mark the days on the calendar.” She hugged Mercy again and whispered in her ear. “Tell me how Mama is doing. I want to hear all the news.”

  “I will.” She stepped back, tears sliding down her face. “Thank you for getting Mama in here.”

  “I didn’t even get a chance to ask. Mrs. Korsheski is as close to sainthood as anyone I know.”

  “And you used to complain about her!” A smile danced behind the tears.

  “I will like working here.” Este hugged her last. “The garden is huge.”

  Miriam watched them go down the steps and turn up the street to the trolley stop. “God, if you really care, please watch out for my family.”

  The next afternoon, after many good-byes and well-wishes from the staff and a trolley ride to the train station, the three young women boarded the westbound train, Corabell with a kerchief to her eyes, Vera with eyes dancing in delight, and Miriam climbing the steps feeling the load heavier than she could bear. She took the window seat and watched as they pulled out of the station. The hot air blowing in through the partially opened windows bore coal smoke and even tiny cinders. The urge to scrub the window felt nearly irresistible.

  Her future was beyond imagination. One year. A year that appeared to stretch forever. She tried to swallow the lump in her throat. They did not need two crybabies in this group. One was bad enough.

  What terrors lay ahead?

  Chapter 23

  BLESSING, NORTH DAKOTA

  Trygve, could you please bring a wagon to the station this afternoon to meet our nurses?” Astrid asked after church that Sunday morning.

  “Of course. I’ll be helping put up the tents for the immigrant workers from New York. Interesting they are all coming in on the same train.”

  “I know. That surprised me too.”

  “Are you going to Tante Ingeborg’s for dinner?”

  Astrid half shrugged. “Mor is so pleased to have all of us back out there, I couldn’t say no.”

  Now that Haakan was feeling so much better, Ingeborg and Haakan had left directly after the service to finish preparing. They used to get together there all the time, but more recently the families had pretty much been having Sunday dinner at their own houses. Astrid seemed to spend half of her life at the hospital.

  “The train arrives at three o’clock, right?”

  “Ja. I will be there too. And after delivering their luggage to our house and Thorliff’s, I will take them on a tour of the hospital.”

  “Won’t they be tired from the journey?”

  “It won’t take long. We have our first class tomorrow morning.”

  She glanced down to see Inga shifting from one foot to the other beside her. “What is it, Inga?”

  “Pa said I was not to interrupt you, so I didn’t, did I?”

  “No. I spoke to you first.” Astrid rolled her lips together. How could one ignore a girl with Inga’s energy shifting beside them?

  “Can I—er, may I go out to Grandma’s house with you? Pa said he had to go put up tents, and I know the other men do too, but I don’t want to wait.”

  “Wait for what?” Elizabeth stopped beside them.

  “I better get going so we can all get out there.” Trygve grinned at Inga. “See you later, and remember, Manny doesn’t talk funny.”

  “I know. Just different.” The disgust leaped from her face.

  Elizabeth tried to force a sort of smile, but she didn’t succeed. “I think before I go out to Grandma’s, I am going to go lie down for a bit.”

  “You are not feeling well?”

  “Not really. Perhaps I have a touch of whatever is going around.”

  Astrid’s smile worked better. “Let us walk with you. I’ll stop and pick up my basket, and then Inga and I can walk on out to Mor’s.”

  “I’ll ask Thorliff to bring me in the buggy later.”

  Reverend Solberg joined them. “I’m going to help with the tents for the newcomers too, so we will be out later. I’m glad they set the time at one thirty. With all the hands helping we should have those tents up in an hour or so. Good thing we did the frames earlier.”

  “I’ll tell her. Glad you are all coming too.” It felt like forever since they’d all gathered for Sunday dinner at Mor’s.

  Once they were on their way to the farm, Inga swung Astrid’s hand as she hopped along. Inga did nothing in a straight line, so she soon dropped Astrid’s hand but kept on chattering. Astrid listened to tales of her and Benny, of their trial by window at the hospital, of how strange Manny talked, of her dog, and the kittens that were now nearly grown.

  “I still have Emmy’s cat, but I don’t think she is going to want to leave her family when Emmy comes home.” She paused for a moment. “We are almost to August and then September comes after that, so Emmy will be home soon.”

  “Good for you on the calendar. Have you asked Grandma if it is all right for Emmy to have another cat at her house? Grandma’s cat might not like a rival.”

  “What’s a rival?”

  “Someone or something that . . .” Astrid paused, searching for a good definition. “Something that is competing for the same thing another one wants. Like two dogs and one bone. They are rivals for the bone.”

  “Oh. So if Benny and I want the same gingerbread man, we would be rivals?” She nodded. “That is why it is always good to have two of everything.”

  “Would that life were like that,” Astrid said under her breath.

  “Why?”

  “So people wouldn’t fight so much. That’s what starts wars—two countries wanting the same thing—more land usually.”

  “Oh.”

  “Do you have rivals?”

  “Not that I know of.”

  “I don’t think I do either.”

  “No, probably not.”

  Scraggy gray Patches, the new dog at home, came barking down the lane to greet them, jumping up to quickly lick Inga’s cheek, running around them, up the lane, back, another quick kiss, and finally slowing to a trot beside Inga, where her hand rested on his head as they walked.

  A trestle table was set up under the cottonwood tree in the shade with tablecloths already spread on it and enough plates and cups to keep the breeze from flicking the tablecloths off and dancing them away. Benches and chairs were scattered around, including the wicker furniture from the porch. Haakan was sitting in one chair and Manny on the settee so he could keep his leg up.

  Inga ran ahead and threw herself into her grandpa’s hug. At his invitation she perched on his knee and breathlessly caught Haakan up on the news.

  Astrid greeted both males and set her basket on the table before going on into the house, where Freda and Ingeborg were busy getting ready.

  “Do you want to chip ice for the swizzle?” Ingeborg asked after the greeting.

  “Of course.” Astrid took an ice pick out of the drawer and, after opening the icebox, started stabbing the halfway melted block of ice.

  The chatter level rose in the kitchen as others arrived. Carl and Grant ran outside to play with Inga. Ellie gave the baby to Haakan to hold so she could help in the kitchen. Astrid glanced out the window to see her far and Manny talking as if they were old friends.

  “Is that some kind of miracle going on out there? The boy talks to you two and no one else?”

  “I guess he trusts us.”

  “I saw how you were with him at the hospital, but Far? He’s not usually a big talker either.”

  “I think he decided that helping that boy get well was something he could do right now. He’s felt so useless, but now he has a purpose.” Ingeborg put an arm around her d
aughter’s shoulders. “I think we are seeing God at work.”

  Astrid heaved a sigh. “Did you hear the muttering at church about you and Far taking that heathen bank-robbing boy in?”

  “No. Whoever would say something like that? He’s a wounded boy who has never had family like we all have. Perhaps we can help him learn how to be a member of a real family.”

  Astrid smiled. “Finish your sentence.”

  Ingeborg’s eyebrows lifted. “And that is?”

  “Why, show him God’s love and forgiveness, of course.”

  “Ja, that too.” Her eyes narrowed. “So who is at the root of the muttering?”

  “Well, I’d guess Anner Valders. And Hildegunn goes right along with whatever he decrees.” Astrid turned from the window. “I used to think she told him what to think and say, but now I know differently.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “His stay in the hospital. He can be a bit of a tyrant. Not bad, but a bit. He is out for vengeance toward those McCrary men. If he had his way, I think he would have them hanged. I wished for a gun when they were holding me hostage, but they never really injured anyone. I know one thing: I was fighting mad more so than frightened.”

  “Daniel and Thorliff could have shot them with pleasure at that point. It’s a good thing God prevented that. I would think that the guilt of knowing you killed someone would be terribly hard to get rid of.”

  Astrid grimaced. “It’s bad enough on the operating table.”

  “Or the man who died from burns?”

  Astrid nodded. “I have to keep putting those things back in God’s hands, or I wouldn’t be able to keep going.” She turned at Inga’s bursting through the screen door, Carl hot on her heels. “A calf was just borned down at the barn!”

  “Oh good.”

  “Did you tell Grandpa?” Astrid asked.

  “He’s sleeping, and Manny is too.”

  “Not anymore, I’d guess,” Ingeborg said under her breath.

  Astrid held out her hand. “Come on. I’ll go back down with you.”

  “We watched from the stall door.”