Blessing in Disguise (22 page)

She sighed and straightened, twisting to the side to pull out an aching muscle.
I know I’m just a silly old woman. Maybe I should have listened to Hjelmer when he said a boardinghouse would be too much for me to do. Then Augusta would have been safe at home instead of who knows where. Are you punishing me? But I really thought this was your idea. Plenty of people have been blessed because they stayed here, and you know I pray for each of them, just like you said
.

“You all right?” Goodie stopped beside her. “Why don’t you go sit down, and I’ll bring you some breakfast.”

Bridget gave the bread dough a final thump, then smoothing it into a ball, set it back in the deep wooden bowl Uncle Olaf had carved for her from an oak stump. She laid a clean towel over the bowl and set it on the top of the reservoir to rise.

“Why don’t you sit down too? You’ve been charging around here like a wolf is on your tail.” Bridget bit back a sigh as she leaned against the back of the chair, another creation of Olaf’s. She often thought he’d do better making furniture full time than running the sack house. Once the grain was shipped, that’s where he set up shop. He had his lathe humming all winter long, along with his saws and chisels. Between him and Sam, they could make about anything a body needed.

Goodie set a plate of ham and eggs in front of Bridget and returned to the stove to get the toast out of the rack she’d set over the coals in the firebox. Once they both had their meal before them, Bridget said grace, and they fell to.

“So, you have something you been wanting to tell me?” Bridget waved her knife at Goodie before cutting off another bite of ham.

Goodie looked up from buttering her toast. “How did you know?”

“Oh, you had that look about you, something like a cat who is sitting in a sunny window, licking the cream off his whiskers.”

“Oh, land, and here I been trying to keep it a secret. But, you know, after losing the last two, one is almost afraid to hope.” Goodie took a bite of her jam-spread toast.

“Ja, it seems God hasn’t been blessing the women around here too much with babies. Ingeborg, Penny, Agnes, you, and even Pastor’s wife.”

“Hildegunn neither. She and Anner sure are thankful for those two boys.”

“More so than Pastor Solberg.” The two women shared a bit of laughter over the antics of Jerry and Toby Valders.

“Well, I better get them sheets rinsed and hanging on the line. Won’t be too long before they’re freeze drying rather than wind and sun drying. I tell you, I ain’t looking forward to winter. Days are getting too short now as it is.”

“Check on Lemuel and make sure he’s not leaving half the vegetables in the ground. I need that cellar plumb full if we’re to feed all the boarders this winter. When are you due?”

“Oh, long about Eastertime, I think. Now wouldn’t a son be a fine Easter present for Olaf? New life for him just like he brought new life to me and mine.” Goodie got to her feet and picked up both their plates. “You just sit there a few minutes longer. It won’t hurt nothin’ for you to rest a bit.”

“Bestemor! Pa’s home!” Thorliff burst into the kitchen through the back door.

“Land sakes, boy, you about scared me half to death.” Bridget laid a hand on her bosom.

“Sorry. Ma said to tell you we’re having a welcome-home party tonight, and we want you to come for sure. Mrs. Wold, you too.”

“Then who’s going to make sure my boarders get fed?” Bridget waited, knowing Thorliff would come up with a good answer.

“They can eat early, or . . .” His blue eyes got even bluer, if that were possible. “They could come too. There’s always plenty of food.”

“We could bake a couple extra pies,” Goodie said with a nod. “And Ilse could serve those who didn’t want to go that far, although why anyone would turn down an invitation to a party is beyond me.”

“I think we’ll even clear out the barn for dancing.” Thorliff ’s eyes sparkled. “I’ll dance with you, Bestemor.”

“Shame Henry’s not here. We could use his fiddle if there’s to be dancing.”

I sure do wish I’d hear from Henry
. Bridget amended her thought.
I wish I’d hear that Henry or Hjelmer, either one, had found Augusta. She loves to dance. How she would enjoy being here
.

“Baptiste and me are going hunting. Roast goose would taste good, don’t you think?”

“It sure would. I’m surprised your ma hasn’t been out hunting.”

“She has, only we ate that catch already.” Thorliff headed out the door. “See you tonight.”

“Well, I better get to gettin’.” Bridget started to stand, but Goodie laid a hand on her shoulder.

“Why don’t you peel the apples, and soon as the sheets are hung, I’ll make the crust.”

That night half of Blessing gathered at the Bjorklunds’. Kaaren and Ingeborg set up trestle tables, and as people arrived, they set their food out and gathered to visit. Wagons with the team tied to the wheels lined the lane and yard. The children played up in the hayloft or out in the field, where a game of Run-Sheep-Run soon got under way. The harvest moon rose golden, making the field and yard nearly as bright as day and lighting the group of men talking politics in the yard. The women bustled around setting out the food and calling everyone to come and eat.

After Pastor Solberg said grace and the men had filled their plates, Andrew, Ellie, and Deborah got in line together to get their food.

“I hope there’s fried chicken left,” Andrew said, trying to see around those ahead to the chicken platter.

“I saw a fancy cake over on the other table. That’s what I want.”

Ellie brushed back a hank of hair that had come loose from her braids from sliding down the straw stack.

Andrew glanced over and saw Sam’s two young relatives, Laban and Mary Jane, off to the side. “Come on over here. We got room for you.” He beckoned and moved back to show the space. “Get your plates.”

“They don’t b’long with the rest of us.”

Andrew spun around to see who said the ugly words. “It’s not nice to say such things.” His lower lip came out, and he hunched his shoulders.

“Andrew.” Ellie glanced over her shoulder. “They’re bigger than you.”

“I don’t care. My ma says black people are no different than white.” He beckoned to the two children again.

“We’uns will wait.”

“Yeah, if they know what’s good for them.”

Andrew handed his plate to Ellie. “Hold this.” He started for the back of the line where the two Valders boys stood side by side.

Ellie ran for her mother but banged into Thorliff first. “Hey, half-pint, where you going?”

“Andrew—Toby and Jerry . . .” She sent a frightened glance over her shoulder.

“Now what did they do?” He lowered his voice so the grown-ups wouldn’t hear.

“I got to tell my ma.”

“No, come with me.”

Thorliff nodded to Baptiste and the two Baard boys, all four of whom were closer to man-size now than boyhood. Manda took Ellie’s hand and gave it a squeeze.

Andrew and the two Valders boys stood toe to toe. “You take that back.” Andrew’s fists were clenched at his side, and his chin stuck out, the glare in his eyes enough to start a prairie fire.

“Nigger lover,” hissed Toby. His brother sneered the same words.

“So?”

“Don’t you know them niggers got nits?” Toby spat at Andrew’s feet. “You’ll catch ’em if ’n you even stand by ’em.”

Andrew took one step forward and let fly with a right that connected to Toby’s nose. Blood spurted faster than anyone could blink.

Toby let out a shriek that could be heard clear to Bismarck and clapped his hands to his face. Blood leaked between his fingers.

“Good for you, Andrew.” Thorliff grabbed his arm. “But that’s enough.” Manda and Baptiste flanked Thorliff on either side. Both of them winked at Andrew, but Manda studied the Valders boys through slitted eyes.

“M-a-a-a.” Toby turned and screeched for his mother.

“What are you boys doing? Oh, my . . .” Hildegunn paused for one moment before descending on the now immobile group of children. “Tobias Valders, what happened?”

“H-he h-hit me.” Toby pointed at the much smaller Andrew standing with his brother’s hands on his shoulders.

“They said bad words.” Ellie moved a step forward to stand by Andrew’s side. She nodded to the two black children, who looked to be fading into the shadows. “About them. My ma said we was to never use such words.” All the time she shook her head and stepped closer to Andrew, as if she could protect him from the wrath above.

Hildegunn turned to Jerry. “Is that what happened? You tell me the truth, now!”

Jerry started to shake his head, began to say something, then stopped, thought, and wilted. He nodded.

“And were you part of it?”

If he could have tunneled into the ground, it appeared he would have. Another nod. This time he studied the tops of his shoes as if all wisdom were written there.

“Andrew Bjorklund, what is going on here?” Ingeborg knelt in front of her young son and looked him directly in the eyes.

“Jerry and Toby said bad words about our friends, and Andrew socked him a big one right in the nose.” Ellie told the tale so fast she ran her words together.

“Wait a minute.” Ingeborg rose to her feet and planted one hand on Andrew’s shoulder and one on Thorliff ’s. She looked her eldest straight, eye to eye. “Did you see or hear what went on?”

“Not really.” Thorliff shook his head. “I think Andrew took care of it himself.”

Hildegunn had a boy by each arm. “Wait until your father hears about this.”

“But, Ma, I—”

“Don’t you ‘but Ma’ me, young man. I want to know what you said.” She shook them again. “And right now.”

While the children all swapped looks under their eyelids, no one said a word.

“I’m waiting.” Hildegunn drew herself up to her full height, seeming to grow like a pig’s bladder puffed full of air.

Andrew edged closer to his mother.

Toby’s nose quit bleeding.

Sounds from the others enjoying their supper and the visit seemed to float around them, unable to penetrate the circle.

Jerry scuffed his boot toe in the dirt. Toby wiped his bloody hand on his pants.

“I’m waiting.”

Andrew looked up at his mother. “I don’t call people names like that.”

Ellie shook her head. “Me neither.”

“I won’t never again,” Toby muttered, elbowing his brother.

“Me neither.”

“Then you can all shake hands and be friends again.” Hildegunn glanced at Ingeborg, who nodded.

The boys shook hands, but anyone could tell there was no sign of friendship.

Thorliff turned around to see where the Negro brother and sister were, but they had disappeared.

“I don’t like them,” Ellie whispered as the two Valders boys followed their mother over to the pump to get cleaned up.

“And now we don’t get to eat with Laban and Mary Jane, and I like them.” Andrew sucked in a deep breath of air and let out a corresponding sigh. “Torly, why are they so mean?” He hadn’t used the baby name for his older brother for a long time.

Ingeborg watched Hildegunn attend to her bloody son. “They just weren’t raised like folks around here,” she said, then put a finger under Andrew’s chin and tipped his face up to look at her. “But that doesn’t excuse what you did. Andrew, you have to learn to outthink people, not bash them.”

“But, Mor, Toby and Jerry were mean to Laban and Mary Jane, and now they left and maybe won’t come back, and . . . and . . . it’s just not fair!” Andrew spit out the last word, his eyebrows making a straight white line across his wrinkled forehead. He sighed and shook his head. “They better . . .”

“Andrew.” Ingeborg made her voice stern.

“What was all the ruckus about?” Haakan kept his voice low, but the hand he laid on Andrew’s shoulder carried not only authority but a gentle squeeze of approbation.

Ellie told the story again, her voice gaining confidence as she recounted Andrew’s exploits. “And . . . and it’s not Andrew’s fault, so please don’t take him out to the woodpile.” She took two steps closer to Andrew as if daring anyone to go through her to get to him.

Ingeborg pressed her lips together. “We will talk about this later. You children go ahead and eat your supper while there is still food left.” She guided them toward the table.

Andrew took up his plate again. “Wouldn’t ya know there’s no fried chicken left.” He looked around. While Toby and Jerry weren’t there, neither were Sam and his family.

Both Andrew and Thorliff danced with their grandmother and their mother too, but Andrew danced mostly with Ellie and Deborah, in between running up and down the ladder from the hayloft.

“You want to dance?” Baptiste stopped in front of Manda and held out his hand.

“With you?”

“Why not? You were willin’ to fight alongside me.” White teeth flashed in his tanned face.

“That’s different. I don’t dance.” Manda scuffed her boot toe in the dirt.

“You do now.” He grabbed her hand and whirled her into the intricate steps of the Pols. The fiddle sang, and the guitars kept the beat along with a washtub played with a broom handle and clothesline.

At the end of the dance, Baptiste led Manda back to her leaning place against the barn and squeezed her hand. “Thank you.”