“Thank you for coming by, Pastor. I believe God has used you in this way.”
“You’re actually thinking of going out into the wilderness with that woman?”
“If she’ll take me, I’ll go,” Mallory said simply.
****
Stepping into a cell at the tiny local jail, Mallory found herself the object of a pair of cold eyes. The woman’s name, she had been informed by the sheriff, was Orva, and like Pastor Knudsen, the sheriff had also warned Mallory about her temperament. “She’s a bad ’un, miss. I’d have nothin’ to do with her. Jail might take a little of the starch out of her.”
As the sheriff closed the cell door behind Mallory, she greeted the woman warmly in Norwegian and introduced herself. “I understand your name is Orva.”
The woman did not speak or make a move but sat sullenly on the bunk. Her black hair was tied back with a leather thong, and Mallory noticed that her eyes were golden brown and somewhat oriental looking. Her face was broad, and she had dark skin with wrinkles around the corners of her eyes. She was wearing well worn men’s clothing. For a moment, Mallory thought she didn’t understand the language.
“Well, what do you want?” she finally grunted.
“I’m sorry about your trouble, Orva. Pastor Knudsen told me about you and thought you might be able to help me.”
The woman raised a dubious eyebrow and smiled cynically. “You want me to help you?”
“Yes. I know that comes as a surprise, but I’ve come to Norway to live with your people, the Lapps.”
“What do you want with us?” She asked the question with a disdainful sneer and punctuated with some of the language Pastor Knudsen had warned her about.
“I’m a missionary, Orva. Do you know what that is?”
“No.”
“It means I want to tell your people about the God I serve.”
“We have our own gods!” The words were cold and hard, and there was something savage about the woman’s expression. She looked very strong, and as Mallory explained what she wanted to do, Orva simply shrugged. “You will die. No white woman could live like we do. Besides, we don’t need any white woman’s god!”
“I know you feel that way, and I hope to change your mind. What I would suggest is this—I understand you’re going to have to stay in jail for three months if someone doesn’t pay your fines. Do you think anyone will?”
“I don’t know anyone who would pay for me.”
“I will.”
A flicker of light touched the woman’s dark eyes. “Why?”
“Because I want you to take me to your people, to be my guide. I can’t do it by myself, but if you would go with me and help me, I think I can.”
“You’ll give me money?”
“I’ll pay your fine, and I’ll pay you for guiding me.”
Orva got up and stood squarely facing Mallory. “I don’t want to be in jail,” she admitted sullenly.
“Then you’ll guide me?”
“You’ll probably die.”
“That’s not your problem. You can introduce me to your people.”
Suddenly the woman smiled, revealing a missing front tooth. “My own family tries to avoid me when they can.”
Mallory was taken aback, but she quickly recovered and said, “If you can find them and keep me from getting lost and starving, I’ll pay you.”
“All right, I’ll do it. Anything to get me out of this place.” She stood up and went over to the bars, which she shook violently, cursing the jailer and everyone else who came to mind.
****
Thirty minutes later the two women entered the Bjellands’ house to find the couple sitting at the table. They looked up, alarm showing clearly on their faces. “I know you’ll think this is foolish,” Mallory told them, “but I believe God has sent this woman to help me find the Lapps.” She went on to tell them of the pastor’s visit and her own trip to the jail.
“When will you be leaving?” Hulda asked, her eyes not leaving the dark, strong face of the stranger, who revealed not a flicker of emotion.
“We’ll go to buy the equipment we’ll need first thing tomorrow morning, that is, if you don’t mind. Is it okay if Orva stays in my room with me tonight?”
Norman and Hulda exchanged a look, and Mallory saw Norman give Hulda the slightest nod.
“Yes, of course that’s fine,” Hulda answered.
Mallory took Orva into her room, where she quickly packed her bags. Orva watched silently and finally asked, “How are you going to carry those?”
The thought had not even occurred to Mallory. “Why, I don’t know.”
“You can’t carry them on your back, can you?”
“No, I can’t, but—”
“You’ll need a tent. Do you have one?”
“No, but I’ll buy one tomorrow.”
Orva snorted with disgust. “You’ll never make it out there.”
****
The next morning Hulda fixed them a hearty meal to break their two-day fast, and then Orva and Mallory set out to buy supplies for the trip. Orva took Mallory to a shack on the outskirts of Narvik where an old Lapp man lived who was some distant relation to Orva. Apparently, he had given up the wandering life, preferring the warmth of four strong walls around him. After a suitable amount of haggling in their native tongue, they agreed on a price for a sled and one reindeer.
Orva turned to Mallory and told her the amount they had agreed on. After a moment’s hesitation, Mallory pulled some bills out of her purse. Orva grabbed them and separated out several for the old man, who grinned at them toothlessly and nodded. She put the rest in her pocket.
“I’m going into town to buy something to drink,” she said, smirking at Mallory’s uncomfortable expression. “Just as soon as I hitch up this reindeer.”
When the sled was ready, Orva motioned to Mallory. “Come on, let’s go.”
Mallory smiled her thanks to the old man, and they began walking back toward town, with the reindeer plodding along behind them, pulling the small sled that would serve to carry their provisions.
The wind made a shrill, keening whistle, and the cold bit at Mallory’s face as the two women leaned directly into it. Every now and then, Mallory turned to make sure the reindeer was still following, even though Orva held the reins. It was a strange-looking animal and much smaller than Mallory had imagined a reindeer to be, but it seemed strong enough, and the wooden sled trundled after as the animal obediently followed the woman.
At the general store in town, Orva made most of the decisions. They left with a tent, cooking supplies, some canned and dried food, and warmer clothes and thicker boots for Mallory. Orva also bought two gallons of whiskey. Mallory started to protest at this waste of money, but Orva immediately snapped, “I get the whiskey or I don’t go.”
Mallory bit her tongue, knowing this was one problem she wasn’t going to solve right away.
The two women loaded the sled down and then went back to the Bjellands’ to pick up Mallory’s things.
The older couple accompanied the two young women outside and watched as Orva made sure the reindeer was secured firmly in its harness. Mallory thanked the couple repeatedly for taking her in, and they assured her it had been no trouble and they would be praying for her. When Orva indicated that she was ready, Mallory waved to the Bjellands as she trudged along after the sled. She turned around and gave one last wave before turning a corner.
Norman shook his head. “We shouldn’t have let her go, Hulda.”
“We couldn’t have stopped her. That young woman’s got a mighty stubborn streak in her. My, how I’m going to miss her!”
CHAPTER FOUR
Living With the Lapps
“I’m afraid I can’t go any farther, Orva.”
A moaning wind almost drowned out Mallory’s voice as she called out to the woman who had forged ahead tirelessly, leading the reindeer.
Orva turned to face Mallory, a look of satisfaction on her dark face. “This is as far as
you can go, huh?”
“I’m afraid so. My legs hurt and I’m freezing.”
Orva laughed a brittle laugh, one of the very few sounds she had made all day as the two had trudged across the land. “All right. I said you wouldn’t make it, didn’t I?”
“I’m sorry. I’ll do better when I get toughened up.”
Ignoring this, Orva pulled the tent off the sled and tossed it onto the cold ground, ignoring the tiny white particles of sleet that stung Mallory’s face like beestings. Orva seemed impervious to the cold, even though she was dressed in much lighter clothing than Mallory was. She wore her heaviest clothing, including her new reindeer-skin boots and leggings, thick fur coat, and warm cap.
Mallory attempted to help, but even inside her thick gloves, her fingers were numb. “I know how to put the tent up, but my fingers won’t work.”
Orva just kept working, and the tent went up mostly under her efforts. She turned and said, “Get inside, but don’t go to sleep.”
“No, I want to help.”
“You’re no help.”
The curt sentence summed up Mallory’s condition. Her legs ached fiercely from the difficulty of the icy walk. She had thought she was in good shape, but she was not accustomed to the cold, which seemed to increase her fatigue. Stubbornly, she stayed outside, unpacking the sled, and at Orva’s direction began to gather whatever dried-up shrubs she could find. By the time Orva had fed the reindeer, Mallory had managed to get a fire started.
Orva glanced at Mallory, reached under the sled, and pulled out one of the jugs. Uncapping it, she took a long swig before offering it to Mallory. “You?” she said.
“No.”
“I’ll drink one for you, then.” Orva took another swig, sighed gustily, and then capped it and put it back on the sled.
Mallory found it difficult to stay awake. She walked back and forth, beating her arms and stomping her feet as Orva dug through the supplies, found a can of beans, and opened it. She dumped it into a saucepan along with some dried meat and soon had a makeshift stew bubbling.
“Eat,” Orva commanded.
Mallory squatted down and, holding the spoon awkwardly in her numb fingers, ate hungrily. As the stew went down, the warmth of the food and the small fire hit her hard. “I’ve got to go to sleep,” she said.
“Get in the tent, then. I’ll be in soon.”
Creeping into the small tent, Mallory managed to get into the sleeping bag she had bought. She fastened it and almost immediately fell asleep.
She was startled awake when Orva entered the tent. Mallory could say nothing before the woman lay down right beside her and pulled a rough blanket over them both. She felt Orva’s arms go around her and pull her close. “What are you doing?” she asked in alarm.
“Two are good,” Orva explained. “Each one of us is a little stove. This is the way my people survive. Go to sleep now.”
Even in the bitterly cold air, Mallory could smell the rank unwashed odor of the woman. She was to learn later that the Lapps did not change clothes all winter long. Added to this was the smell of alcohol on her breath. Nonetheless, it was warmer beside Orva, so ignoring the stench, Mallory tried to pray. But she was so weary she went to sleep before she could frame a single sentence.
****
“Come out!”
Mallory tried to dig deeper into her sleeping bag, but the grating voice persisted.
“Get out! Time to leave!”
Almost desperately Mallory shook herself awake and crawled out of the bag. The cold hit her like a physical blow. It was a fierce, biting, penetrating force that froze her flesh and seemed to sink deep into her lungs and all through her body. She struggled out of the tent and into the dark morning to find that Orva had cooked a breakfast of fried meat. A pan of water also bubbled over the fire.
“Eat.”
Mallory quickly followed Orva’s instructions, and as soon as she was finished with the sparse meal, Orva looked squarely at her. “You want to go on?”
“Of course.”
“We can go back. You’re not going to make it. This is only November. It will get colder yet in December and January.”
The challenge angered Mallory. “If I don’t make it, just put me on the sled and let the reindeer pull me.”
“Hah!” Orva laughed, her eyes crinkling up till they were almost invisible. “I’ll steal everything you have and leave you for the wolves.”
Her threat silenced Mallory. She wasn’t sure if Orva had said it in jest or was serious. Struggling with her numb hands and feet, Mallory helped as best she could to take down the tent. When the reindeer did not promptly obey Orva’s order to come be harnessed, she struck it so hard with one of the tent poles that it staggered.
“Don’t do that, Orva,” Mallory said, shocked at her mistreatment of the animal.
“It’s just a beast.”
“He has feelings too. Don’t hit him again.”
Orva stared at her employer, silent for a moment. “You’re too soft,” she grumbled and shrugged. “You’ll toughen up, though—if you live that long.”
Before they set out again, Orva took a lengthy swallow from her jug. She lowered it and stared at Mallory, daring her to say something. “Aren’t you going to preach at me?”
“I don’t think you should drink.”
Orva cursed and capped the jug, glaring at Mallory. “Don’t tell me what to do. You’d die without me.”
So the day began and continued with Orva leading the way and drinking. They traveled until almost midmorning before Mallory asked a question that had been puzzling her. “How come the sun sets so early in the afternoon?”
Orva looked around and grunted. “Better get used to the dark. Come December, you won’t be seeing the sun for weeks.”
Mallory shivered uncontrollably now, not only from the cold but from the realization that they were far enough north that the sun would soon be staying below the horizon. She tried to concentrate on putting one foot ahead of the other, but she felt as if she were in an alien atmosphere. The ground was hilly, uneven, and rocky, as well as being covered with snowy moss and lichens, which provided cushioning for their feet but was awkward and slippery to walk across. The farther north and inland they went, the colder it became.
At one of their resting places, Orva pointed toward some movement in the distance. “Look, reindeer herd.”
“Is it your people?” Mallory asked hopefully.
“No.” There was no further explanation. Orva did not believe in wasting words. “We go now,” she said as she got up.
Mallory stuck it out until midafternoon, and finally she had to tell Orva she could go no farther. The sun had already set, and she was too tired to even help put up the tent, but Orva put it up quickly and efficiently. Once again it took all of Mallory’s strength to resist the numbing effects of the cold. She walked back and forth stamping the earth, trying to get feeling into her feet, and beating her arms against her sides to restore circulation.
Orva cooked a simple meal, and after they had eaten, she fed the fire with a few more twigs. They both sat staring into the tiny flame. It gave off a pitiful amount of heat, and Mallory, hungry for warmth, crowded close. “Couldn’t we build it up bigger?”
“It won’t help. When it goes down again, it’ll just seem colder.”
The two women sat there quietly, Orva simply staring into the fire. There was a stolid hardness about her, and Mallory thought, She’s just like this land. Mallory offered up a prayer before asking her companion, “Orva, will you let me tell you about my God?”
“You can if you want, but it won’t do any good.”
Mallory smiled at the invitation and began. “There is one God, Orva. He made all of this. He made the whole world and the stars and the sun and the moon. And He made us, you and me.”
“He made everyone, you say?”
“Yes, of course.”
“He’s not a very good maker, then. I’ve seen some pretty pitiful specimens.” Orva
grinned and downed a swallow of her whiskey. “Go on. Tell me some more about this maker of yours.”
Mallory struggled to get her message across, and finally she spoke about Jesus. “We were all so bad that there was no hope for any of us,” Mallory said. The wind had died down, and an immense silence rested on the barren landscape. It was as if everything in the world had died and all was totally silent. Mallory’s voice sounded thin and weak as she said, “God was holy and righteous. And He sent his Son to save us.”
“To save us from what?”
“From hell.”
“Hell? What’s that?”
“It’s a place where people go forever who are lost and die in their sins.”
“And what is this hell like?”
“It’s a place of burning fire.”
Orva laughed and hugged the jug to her chest. Her eyes gleamed, and her teeth glowed white against her dark skin. “That’s where I want to go, then. I’ve never been warm in my whole life. Yes, I want to go to hell.”
Mallory was speechless. She struggled to find a way to explain what she meant, but no words would come. Finally she said, “For you and your people, I guess hell would be a place of eternal ice, with no fire and no warmth.”
Orva blinked. “I wouldn’t want to go to a place like that. I’ve had enough of that kind of misery.”
Mallory did not know how to say what was on her heart. “Jesus is the Son of God, and He came to give us peace. To make everything right.”
“He’s got a big job on His hands,” Orva said sardonically. “How does He propose to fix the mess we’re in?”
“He came to earth and He died for us.”
Orva grew still and fixed her dark eyes on Mallory. “He did?”
“Yes,” Mallory said, encouraged at the woman’s interest. She went on to speak of how Jesus was born without an earthly father, and this also interested her.
“He had no father? Just a mother? That can’t be.”
“It was the only time it’s ever happened. God was His father, and Mary was His mother. So He was God and man.”
“It makes a nice story,” Orva said with a shrug. “This is what you’re going to tell my people?”
The Unlikely Allies Page 4
