The Settlers (25 page)

Early one Sunday morning, shortly after New Year’s, the Olaussons came to call unexpectedly. Karl Oskar had been out in the woods looking for a pig which had broken out of its sty, and he had just returned. Neither he nor Kristina had had time to think of their Sunday rest, and they had not yet cleaned up. They were surprised at this early call from their neighbors; when Bible discussions and spiritual gatherings were held, the families did not get together until the afternoon of the Sabbath.

Kristina pulled forth chairs for the callers, who were dressed in their Sunday best. Petrus Olausson had put on a tie and trimmed his beard, and his thin tufts of hair were combed and orderly. Judit wore her best white-frilled black dress which buttoned all the way to her chin. Her black hair was pulled back severely and parted in the middle, displaying a line of skin like a straight white ribbon from her forehead to the top of her skull. On the back of her head she wore a black cap with white embroidery. Her powerful nose stuck out sharply, a spy for her prying eyes. Her mouth as always was tightly closed, the right corner slightly higher than the left.

The couple’s expressions were set in their customary Sabbath severity which Karl Oskar and Kristina recognized from earlier Sundays, but their faces also displayed something serious and ominous. What could they want so early on a Sunday morning?

The Olaussons sat stiffly and ceremoniously and twisted awkwardly on their chairs; they had not come just to amuse themselves, that much was clear.

Karl Oskar began telling them about the pig he had been hunting for over an hour. What luck the weather was so mild this morning—it was an important pig, a sow he intended to send to the boar for mating when her time came again.

Petrus Olausson listened absentmindedly. Then he said, “We have come to call on a matter of great spiritual importance.”

He raised his chin with its newly trimmed beard and spoke as if he were reading aloud from the Bible. “We have come to open your eyes and to warn you, our beloved neighbors and fellow Christians.”

“To open your eyes, indeed!” interrupted the wife, adjusting her cap, which had slid down over her left ear.

“It is the duty of a person who sees to warn the one who is blind,” continued the husband. “It is our duty as Christians to safeguard our neighbors’ souls.”

“Exactly so,” echoed the wife. “We are here to fulfill our duty.”

“It concerns your souls, our dear neighbors . . .”

Karl Oskar and Kristina listened with increasing confusion. Their neighbors spoke as if the Almighty himself had sent them here with the message that the Day of Doom would come on the morrow.

Petrus Olausson went on. “We have for a long time thought about this. We have hesitated, delayed. As Christians we can now no longer be responsible.”

“What’s this all about?” exclaimed Kristina. “What in the world is going on?”

“I will tell you.” He rose and moved closer to her. “Some time ago I met in this house an unknown woman. A Swedish woman. You must recall our meeting . . . ? The woman had . . .”

“You said she made a fright of herself in a hat!” interrupted Judit.

“That is correct—she wore a hat on her head. A very large piece of headgear, full of vanity and most outlandish.”

Judit Olausson had her opinion. “A Swedish woman gone plumb crazy of vanity! Putting on a hat when she gets to America!” Her voice was brittle with disgust.

“I have now learned who this woman is,” said Petrus Olausson slowly, as if announcing a great discovery.

“You must mean Ulrika, I gather,” said Kristina.

“That’s her name, that scarecrow,” confirmed Judit, pulling up the right corner of her mouth still further.

“But Ulrika didn’t put on a hat from vanity—she is as good as any upper-class woman,” said Kristina. “We’re intimate friends.”

“Friends?” interrupted the neighbor. “My poor woman—this ‘friend’ of yours is married to the Baptist minister in Stillwater!”

“She has gone over to her husband’s religion and she has been rebaptized!” echoed Judit.

“I know all that; it concerns no one but herself.”

Olausson straightened up to give greater weight to his words: “You also know this: we must have no connection with lost souls! We must keep clear of sectarians. And that is why you must have nothing to do with this woman who is the wife of the Stillwater priest.”

Karl Oskar and Kristina stared at each other. At last they began to grasp their neighbors’ purpose.

“Look out for this Mrs. Jackson. Don’t let that woman into your house. Don’t ever open your door to her again.”

Karl Oskar snorted loudly. Petrus Olausson’s advice seemed to him so outrageous that he wanted to laugh. But he held his tongue.

“With this Mrs. Jackson you admit the Evil One into your home,” continued Olausson. “I heard that woman’s raw and unbecoming speech. She carries the devil’s own tongue in her sweet mouth. Without you being aware of it, she pours irreligion’s poison into your ears. Only because of Christian love do we wish to warn you. It concerns your soul!”

“We do our duty as Christians!” added Judit.

“We only wish your best, dear neighbor. Listen to your friends’ advice; have nothing more to do with that woman!”

Olausson turned toward Kristina, whose face had stiffened as she listened. Words stuck in her throat as she tried to answer.

“Uncle Petrus . . . do . . . do you know . . . you’re talking about my best friend in America . . .”

“Yes, I know. And because of this friendship the danger is so much greater for you.”

“You’re blind!” insisted the neighbor wife. “Friendship blinds people.”

“Mrs. Jackson offers you her hand and you do not perceive the claw hidden in the paw.”

“Because you are blind!”

Kristina’s face had turned flaming red. What was this her neighbor asked of her? She needed time to collect herself in order to understand. They asked that she sacrifice her friendship for Ulrika and close her door to her! This friendship . . . She remembered so well what Ulrika had once said to her: I sold my body at times for a loaf of bread, but my friendship costs more than any man or woman can pay. I don’t throw it away on just anyone. But you have it, Kristina. You have it for all time. Of that you can be sure. You got it that time when you shared your bread with me on the journey. You have received the most valuable possession I have to give to any human being. That was what Ulrika had said, that was how valuable was her friendship. And she, Kristina, had it; Ulrika had by her actions proven it to her. And here came these people, demanding that she repay good with evil and deny her friendship for Ulrika, that she behave treacherously, that she betray her best friend . . . !

Kristina had her own ideas about right and wrong toward other people, and never had anyone been able to sway her. Nor would Petrus Olausson and his wife be able to do so, not to the smallest degree. They asked her to betray a friendship, they asked her to wrong a person, they demanded that she commit this gravest of sins.

And there stood Uncle Petrus and continued to talk to her in the patient voice of an admonishing father. He knew from experience the dangers of heresy, he himself had for a time followed a false prophet. But one day his eyes had been opened to the true light, and now he wanted—along with true Swedish Lutherans—to found an Evangelical Lutheran Church in America, which would be free from interference by worldly authorities and unblemished by heresy. And among those true Christians who must build this Church were Kristina and her husband. He must therefore protect them against false prophets who called themselves Baptists. They were sent by the devil to spread dissension among the Swedes. They were sunderers, this Baptist ilk, they wanted to create dissension and dissolve the true faith.

He took Kristina by the arm, pleadingly, admonishingly, mildly rebuking her as if she were his beloved, disobedient, self-willed child.

“Dearly beloved Kristina! These sunderers and false prophets deck themselves out like friends. You do not recognize them for what they are. You do not know the Fiend in the soul of this Mrs. Jackson! But as long as she continues to come here, your home is besmirched. Therefore, beloved Kristina, do not ever let her cross your threshold again. Will you give me this promise?”

“No!” she screamed out. “No! No! No! Never!”

And Kristina violently pulled herself away from him, as if he were unclean and had besmirched her. Her explosion was so sudden that Olausson took a few steps backward. His wife jumped up from her chair.

“This is enough!” cried Kristina. “Listen to me, you, once and for all. You come to me and talk ill of Ulrika—what do you mean? Do you think I’m a fool? I’ll tell you something, both of you! Pretending to be my friends, ah?”

“Poor child! How you talk!” said Judit Olausson and turned her head so quickly that her cap slid down over her right ear.

“Dear Kristina, calm down!” pleaded Olausson.

“Wretched woman! The devil speaks through her mouth,” added Judit.

With Kristina’s sudden explosion, Olausson lost his composure. He turned to Karl Oskar. “You must correct your foolish wife, Nilsson! She acts as if she had already been led astray. Help us bring her back to her senses.”

Karl Oskar rose from his seat and straightened up to his full height, “This is crazier than hell!”

“Yes, yes, here we come as friends and fellow Christians and your wife treats us as if we were . . .”

“You have given order in my house, Olausson. But you have done it for the last time.”

“What’s that, Nilsson? Are you too against us? Are you as blind as your wife?”

Karl Oskar looked steadily at his neighbor and raised his voice until Olausson drew back. “You leave Kristina alone! She can open her door to whoever she wants! And this I had intended to tell you before: I don’t need a guardian! Nor does my wife! Now you know!”

“But Nilsson—my dear neighbor—you must understand us! All we want is to warn you against the sectarians . . . you know—those Baptists! We must be careful—every moment of our lives we must watch out against . . .”

“That’s enough! You force me to tell you right out: take care of yourself and shit on others!”

Kristina had stepped between the two men, her eyes aflame. “Let me have a word in this matter! I want to be open with you, Petrus—you come here and try to separate old friends. You insist I kick out the best friend I have. And you speak of sundering and dissension! Who is the sunderer? Who is trying to spread ill will and dissension? No one but you!”

In her excitement she no longer called her neighbor Uncle Petrus. He tried to get a word in in reply, but she wouldn’t let him. “You shut up—it’s my turn to talk now! You try to part Ulrika and me! You yourself are the sunderer, you spread discord, you slander Ulrika and accuse her of evil deeds! You belie your fellow men! You’ve forgotten the eighth commandment, Christian that you call yourself! You bear false witness against your neighbor! You run about and spread evil rumors—you, a grown man! You ought to be ashamed! Or haven’t you any shame in your old body? Haven’t you any decency, you evil old man!”

Petrus Olausson remained frozen, listening. His eyes were riveted on Kristina; his look was one of sorrow rather than anger. It was as if he looked upon his neighbor’s wife as a father might look at a difficult and straying child.

“You ought to feel ashamed of yourself, Petrus Olausson!”

“Dear neighbors—I’m amazed and saddened. It is with sorrow and pain that I hear . . .”

“Come, Petrus!” said Judit Olausson, adjusting again her black cap. She took her husband by the arm. “That woman is possessed! Insulting us like that! Lets go!”

“But our duty as fellow Christians . . .”

“You can see we’re too late,” said his wife.

“Dear Judit, it’s never too late to lead a straying soul back to the true . . .”

“But can’t you hear—the sectarians already have snared her in their nets. Let’s go home. Come, Petrus!”

Judit walked toward the door. Petrus Olausson cleared his throat and turned once more to Kristina, lecturing her kindly. “Our Christian love for our neighbors brought us here today. We so want to warn you, and you reward us with insults. But I forgive you, Kristina. I overlook your words. For it is an evil spirit that speaks through your mouth.”

“Shut up about your evil spirits! No one has led me astray! I intend to remain a Christian Lutheran as long as I live! But I won’t betray my friends! Now you know! And so shut up!”

“You are a foolish woman. We must pray God to protect you against snares. We will pray for your mind to change so that you never again will admit that Baptist ilk into your home. As Christian people we must avoid this unclean house until it has been cleansed.”

“Out with you!” shouted Kristina, trembling. “Out of my house, both of you! Not clean in here! That I’ll never forget as long as I live!”

At this her voice failed her.

—3—

The Olaussons left. Karl Oskar and Kristina sat down to rest, exhausted as if by some heavy chore.

“Well, I guess our neighbor-peace has come to an end,” said he.

Kristina thought of the spring day last year—it had seemed to her then like a Sunday—when Karl Oskar for the first time had heard their new neighbor’s ax ringing in the forest.

“I lost my temper—but I don’t regret it,” she said.

Her voice still trembled: what did they take her for, this Olausson and his woman? Who did they think she was? A nodding doll, without a mind of her own? A stupid woman they could lead wherever they wished, one whom they must lead by the hand? A silly sheep, in utter simplicity letting herself be devoured by those ugly Baptist wolves, Ulrika and her husband?

But the neighbor’s remark about her unclean house had hurt her the most.

“Well, now they know how we feel,” said Karl Oskar. “Let them get mad if they wish. How stupid that we must quarrel with our neighbors because Ulrika jumped into the river and got herself baptized. It doesn’t make sense.”

Ulrika was not as close to him as she was to Kristina. The former parish whore still had many characteristics he found difficult to accept. But over the years he had learned to value her more and more. And regardless of who the person was, no outsider could come to him and dictate whom he could admit to his house and whom he must exclude. They would open their door for whomever they wished.