No Distance Too Far (14 page)

“You have an industrious family.”

Astrid nodded. “I originally thought I was going to become a nurse to help my sister-in-law in her practice, but instead, she insisted that I train to be a doctor, and I’m glad she did.”

“How does she feel about her trainee leaving for Africa?”

“She is terribly disappointed but agrees that a two-year term would be similar to my going on for further medical training.” Astrid ordered her shoulders to go back down where they belonged. Why did she feel they’d been grilling her for hours?

She glanced up to catch a slight smile in the dean’s eyes. She must be doing all right, then.

“Are there any further questions, comments?” he asked, glancing around the table.

One of the men who’d been leaning back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest, raised one finger.

“Yes, Rev. Arbuckle.” While Astrid had nodded to him at the introductions, she’d not seen a smile anywhere near his face.

“I have to say that I believe we would be making a grave mistake in sending a young woman, not yet nineteen, alone with no husband”—he emphasized each point with a sharp nod and fierce glances at those around the table—“to Africa. Unless . . .” He paused and leaned forward. “Unless she is sent to work in an established hospital and not out in the bush. Rev. Schuman, as I understand, operates out of a small village and uses a bicycle to call on patients and to travel to other villages.” He shook his head. “But even sending her to a city would be a mistake, I think.” He turned to look directly at Astrid. “Go home, find a husband, and then the two of you see if this is something that appeals to both of you.”

Astrid smiled politely while inside a banked fire threatened to combust. As if she’d come here on a whim. That she was dying to go to Africa, thinking it was a romantic adventure.

Dean Highsmith, eyes narrowed, stared at the other man. “Would you go against the will of the almighty God?” His soft words dropped into the silence, spreading out like ripples on a still pond.

“No, not at all.” Arbuckle blinked and huffed a sigh. “I-I-I think God must make it very clear that this is what He wants. That’s all.”

“You think we are not all praying along these very lines?” Another pause. “Dr. Bjorklund herself has reiterated how this must truly be God calling her.”

One of the other men leaned forward, meeting Arbuckle’s eyes. “Jonas, when you see the burning bush, you come get us, all right?”

Slightly snide, Astrid thought but hoped the feather-light chuckles would ease the tension in the room.

Dean Highsmith laid his palms on the table. “Since I see no other questions, I declare this meeting to be adjourned. I thank you all for coming and also Dr. Bjorklund. We will be notifying you sometime in the next month of our decision. Meanwhile, I trust that no matter the outcome, you will feel that your classes here have been a valuable use of your time.” He nodded to Astrid. “You are all invited to dinner in the cafeteria, and you won’t even have to stand in line to serve yourself. One of our students will be your host.”

As they all stood, the scraping of chairs on the waxed walnut floor was louder than the conversation. Astrid turned to leave the room, but Dean Highsmith stopped her with a touch on her shoulder. She looked up at him, hoping he wouldn’t catch her awful need to go hide in a corner and cry out her frustration.

“Won’t you please join Rev. Arbuckle and me for the meal?”

She stared at him, catching her words before they tumbled forth.
Why would I want to spend time with that man?
Somehow he seemed to hear her thoughts and she flushed.

“Trust me, it’s important.”

Trust me
. God wasn’t the only one saying that lately. Maybe she’d misheard the dean, he’d spoken so softly. God seemed to be trumpeting his request. Or was it orders? Here she’d been struggling so with this whole fear thing, and Rev. Jonas Arbuckle acted like he was the only one who’d given any thought to the dangers of Africa.

Astrid ordered her lips to smile and her head to nod while a voice inside kept shouting,
Run, run. Go home to Blessing, where you don’t
have to put up with one more man saying you are too young, you are not
married, you can’t possibly be a real doctor.
But she said aloud, “I’d be glad to.”
Liar! You don’t have to go that far. But be polite
. That had to be her mother’s voice. Gracious and kind, two words that the Bible repeated over and over, and at times like this, two of the hardest to obey.

She almost asked to be excused and said she would meet them in the dining room later, but she realized she might not get herself out of her room if she returned there now. Instead, she walked between the two men to the cafeteria, trying to think of something to say.

Dean Highsmith pulled a chair out for her at one of the smaller tables set for four.

“Thank you.” She sat and smiled up at him.

After the men seated themselves and they had all picked up their napkins, she glanced at Rev. Arbuckle. Brooding might be a way to describe him. His well-trimmed dark beard matched his equally dark hair, though tempered with bits of silver creeping in. Hard to guess his age since his face wore lines of anger. Laugh lines did not lighten his dark eyes as they did Dean Highsmith’s. Talk about two men who looked so opposite. Although the dean’s hair might have been dark in his youth, the silver of it added to the air of distinction that fit him and his position.

They gave their orders to the young man who waited on them, and then the dean turned to Astrid. “I know that Jonas’s remarks in the meeting offended you, and I want to give him an opportunity to explain why he feels the way he does.”

What could she say? He clearly didn’t believe young women should be in the medical or missionary field. But her curiosity was aroused. Surely there was a story here. She nodded.

“First of all, Rev. Arbuckle has served many years on the mission field, leaving for Africa when he was not much older than you. He has been back in this country on leave, and we have asked him in the meantime to serve on our mission board.”

“I see.” She turned to the man, feeling scrutinized by eyes that seemed to burn right through her.

“I beg your pardon,” he said in a low voice, “if I said anything that offended you.”

Rolling her eyes seemed a telling answer, so she kept still and silent.

“Africa eats men and women alive. For some reason I have come through twenty years unscathed, but most are not so fortunate.”

“Let’s be honest here, Jonas, you are not unscathed.” Highsmith turned to Astrid. “Jonas’s wife died and is buried in Africa, along with his daughter and one son. Two of his sons were sent back to America, or they might not have survived either.”

Astrid swallowed and blinked. She looked to Rev. Arbuckle again and saw eyes still filled with pain, not the anger she had originally surmised. “I am so sorry.”

He nodded but brushed his hand as if to push an invisible cobweb away.

She wanted to ask him for particulars, but the hand made her wary. He obviously did not want to talk about his family.

“I was training young Africans to be ministers and teachers. That’s what I am. A teacher. Or was.”

“And will be again.” Dean Highsmith spoke with all the assurance at his disposal.

“We shall see.”

“In the meantime Jonas is helping our students prepare for missionary service in Africa. Today he will be lecturing about the living conditions, and tomorrow he is conducting a session on tropical diseases.”

“Are you a doctor also?” Astrid asked, then smiled at the young man serving them. “Thank you.”

Also noticing the server, Rev. Arbuckle said, “You realize that young man is probably your age or a bit older? He will finish college here and then attend Bible School for a year or more. And if he can pass the exams, he will be considered for the missionary field
—
if he still believes he has the call to do so.” Adding with a sharp nod, “And no, I am not a doctor.”

Astrid sighed to herself. Ah, back to her age. “I know that you feel I am too young, but I have more medical training than many men far older than I. Isn’t it better that I am not married, so that I have the flexibility to go now without burdening a family?”

“Your husband would have to have the desire to go also.”

“If I were a man, would you be saying the same things?”

“I believe nineteen is too young for a man also. The more life experiences one has, the more one can adjust to the culture there, to the climate, to the calling.”

“Would you want one of your sons going there?”
Lord, please keep
me from arguing with him.

Rev. Arbuckle slowly shook his head. “The cost can be too great.”

“Would you go back?”

Strangely, this time he nodded. “Africa has become home to me.”

“Will you go back to teaching?”

Again he nodded. “Strange, is it not? Here I am doing my best to discourage you, and yet I am praying to return.” He leaned forward. “But I am teaching young people, African young people, to do the serving and the ministering. I believe we should be training doctors and nurses, schoolteachers, and businessmen to go out and take care of their own people.”

“I think Rev. Schuman disagrees with you.”

“He says the people can’t wait that long, that while we must train native people, we must also bring the gospel and medical help to them now.” Arbuckle leaned back in his chair. “We are all called to different parts of the body.”

Astrid stared at her plate, where the food had disappeared as they talked.

“We have banana cream pie for dessert,” Dean Highsmith announced.

“More iced tea?” the server asked.

“Yes, and bring us three pieces of pie.” Highsmith smiled at Astrid. “I know. I am just trying to keep you two here a while longer. For some reason God made me think the two of you would be good for each other.”

“Dean Highsmith, ever a mediator.”

“You do your calling; I’ll answer for mine. Keep the discussion going. I believe there is more to be shared.”

Astrid sucked in a breath. “My mother always said that it is not polite to ask personal questions.”

That brushing of the hand again. “Ask away. Let us not stand on propriety.”

“How old would your daughter be now?”

“Twenty years. She died at fifteen in a cholera epidemic. All three of them were gone almost overnight. We had shipped the two older boys back to the States for school. Perhaps that is what saved them.”

“Everyone didn’t die at that time.”

“No, but white people had not the constitution for the climate that natives had, so the number of deaths was higher in the white families.”

“Did you have it too?”

“A light case. Sometimes understanding God’s will in situations like this is near to impossible.”

“Perhaps understanding is not what is needed but acceptance and trust.”

He stared at her. “Where have you gained such wisdom?”

She was sure he was thinking
at such a young age
, but he refrained from saying it. “I think I am quoting my mother. She has many pearls of wisdom that I find myself echoing now.”

“I think I would like to meet your mother.”

“Come to Blessing. You wouldn’t be the first to seek her counsel. I am just beginning to realize how very fortunate I am.”

The slice of pie appeared in front of her like magic. She’d been so engrossed in their discussion she’d not even noticed the server bring it.

Rev. Thompkins stopped at their table. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but Bible class is starting in just a few minutes.”

“Thank you. I’ll be right there.”
And thank you for getting me out
of this situation.
She once again let go of a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. How do you disagree with a man who has experienced and lost so much? And yet she still hoped she was following God’s will. How she would like to have asked Dean Highsmith what he had hoped to accomplish by this discussion.

Both of the men rose when she did.

“Thank you for the time,” Rev. Arbuckle said with a slight bow. He looked to the dean too. “But I still don’t believe going to Africa would be the best thing for you.”

Astrid shrugged. “Since I am not convinced of it either, I guess we’ll just have to see what God decides. I will keep praying for clarity, and I hope you will too.” She nodded to both of the gentlemen and made her way to the door. Out in the hall an attack of exhaustion made her sag against the wall for a moment. What had that been all about? Her mother would most likely have taken her to task for her forthright questions. But if she was indeed an adult now, doing adult things, surely discussing such deep matters was part of life. If it wasn’t, it certainly should be. She sucked in a deep breath of energy and headed for her Bible class. An errant thought caught her by surprise. Did she really want to meet with Rev. Arbuckle again?

11

BLESSING, NORTH DAKOTA

W
hen the mud is dry, we will start building all the windmills I sold last fall.” Hjelmer walked around their nearly finished wagon, nodding all the while. “You’ve done a good job here.”