Until We Reach Home (53 page)

“Thank you, Knute.”

Chapter Forty-One

T
HE FIRST TIME
Sofia had walked onstage to perform before an audience, her legs had trembled so badly she thought they would collapse. The accompanist had to play the introduction to her song three times before she managed to open her mouth and draw in enough air to sing. When she finally did, her wobbly voice sounded like she was singing in the back of a wagon on a bumpy road.

“I know I was terrible,” she told Mr. Lund afterward. “I’m so sorry, but I was terrified.”

“That’s all right, Sofia. It was your first time. You’ll get used to it.”

“How will I get used to it? When I looked out and saw all those people—”

“Next time close your eyes and forget about them. Pretend you’re singing to someone you love.”

Walking onstage the second time had been just as frightening as the first. Sofia’s costume was drenched with sweat from standing beneath the hot lights, and she still felt like her knees were going to collapse, but she closed her eyes and thought of Ludwig. She remembered how his violin music had soothed and calmed her, and she pretended that he was the only person in the audience. She sang just for him.

“I still feel like I’m going to be sick each time,” Sofia told Kirsten as they sat in her living room. Torkel played near their feet with the cat. “But singing is a lot less work than cleaning Mrs. Anderson’s mansion all day—and the pay is better.”

She and Kirsten got together at least once a week to share their letters from Elin. “It sounds like she really likes it up there in Wisconsin,” Sofia said.

Kirsten looked skeptical. “Maybe she’s just saying nice things about the place so we won’t worry about her.”

“I don’t think so. . . . And did you notice that she talks about Gunnar Pedersen in nearly every paragraph?”

“You don’t think she’s falling in love, do you?”

Sofia laughed. “Well, why not?”

When they learned that Elin would be coming back to Chicago to attend nursing school, they hugged each other in joy.

“I’ll help you look for a new place where you and Elin can live,” Kirsten told her. “Now that you can speak English and I know how to travel by streetcar, we should be able to find a nice boardinghouse by the time she comes home.”

Kirsten brought Knute’s little boy with her wherever she and Sofia went. Torkel didn’t cling to Kirsten quite as much as he did at first, but Sofia still liked to tease them about becoming a two-headed circus act. Together the three of them found a rooming house reserved for women near Augustana Hospital. Sofia could take a streetcar to the theater or to the music conservatory, where she had begun taking lessons. She began counting the days until Elin came back.

At last that day arrived. Kirsten and Torkel went with Sofia to meet Elin at the train station. Sofia wept with joy as she finally hugged her sister. Kirsten laughed out loud when she saw their battered trunk once again.

“I thought we were finally rid of that thing—and here it is!”

“Elin and I will carry it,” Sofia said with a smile. “You shouldn’t be lifting heavy things anymore.”

“Yes, look at you,” Elin said. “You’re starting to get a little thick around the middle.”

“I guess I won’t be climbing trees much longer.”

“Climbing trees?” Elin asked. “Why in the world would you want to climb trees?”

“Somebody had to teach Torkel how to do it.”

“Oh, Kirsten. I’m so glad you haven’t changed!”

Sofia lifted one end of the trunk and waited for Elin to lift the other. “I wish you could see Gunnar Pedersen lift this for me,” Elin said as they began hauling it out of the station. “You would think it weighed nothing at all.”

Sofia looked at Kirsten and smiled. “We can’t wait to hear all about your friend,” Sofia said.

“He’s a good man,” Elin said. “He loves the land and he works very hard, but he’s kind and gentle, too. I can’t wait for you to meet him. He wants to come down here for a visit after the harvest.” Elin spoke in her usual serious way, but Sofia couldn’t help smiling at the tenderness she heard in Elin’s voice.

“It sounds like you have feelings for Gunnar Pedersen.”

Elin didn’t reply until they reached the street and set down the trunk again. “I do,” she said quietly. “We’re going to keep writing to each other. And I think I want to move back to Wisconsin when I finish school. Gunnar says they’ll need nurses up there.”

Sofia’s smile faded at the thought of Elin leaving again. “But in the meantime,” Sofia said quickly, “Kirsten and I found a place where you and I can live. We’ve hired a cab to take us there now.”

“And I’m going to give the driver a big tip,” Kirsten said, “so he’ll carry the trunk all the way up to your room.”

They all climbed into the back of the carriage and Torkel nestled onto Kirsten’s lap. Within a few minutes, he had fallen sound asleep from the rocking motion. “You should see what a wonderful mother our Kirsten has become,” Sofia said.

“I can see already,” Elin replied.

“He called me Mama for the first time the other day,” Kirsten said in a whisper. “I was worried that Knute would be upset, but he wasn’t. He said he was glad. He said Torkel needs a mother.”

“And Kirsten has turned her little house into a real home,” Sofia added.

Kirsten looked down at Torkel and brushed his silky hair off his forehead. “It feels like a real home to me, especially now that we’re becoming a family.”

Elin took Sofia’s hand in hers. “I hope you aren’t upset, but I think I’ve found a home, too—up in Wisconsin.”

“I’m not upset,” she said softly.

“That’s what we wanted all along, wasn’t it?” Kirsten asked. “To have a home again?”

“Yes, that’s why we left Sweden,” Elin said. “But what about you, Sofia? What about a home for you?”

She took a moment to put her feelings into words. “I haven’t found a home in the same way that both of you have—but I don’t feel sad about it. To me, this whole adventure wasn’t about reaching a destination and finding a home—it was about the journey. Think about how much we’ve learned, how much we’ve all changed and grown since leaving Sweden. And everything we’ve endured has brought us closer to God.”

“And to each other,” Elin said, squeezing her hand.

“Yes, that, too—even if we do have to be apart. Remember how Kirsten said we would all marry rich husbands when we got to America and sit in the warm sunshine all day eating strawberries and cream?”

“I remember,” Kirsten said, smiling.

“Well, if God had given us a home like that right away,” Sofia continued, “we never would have turned to Him. We wouldn’t have needed Him, and so we wouldn’t have known that the new homes and new families we’ve found were gifts from Him.”

Sofia paused, swallowing her tears as she thought of Ludwig. “God will give me a home, too, when the time comes. But until then, I’m happy to continue the journey, because I know that God is with me. When I was alone on Ellis Island, He showed me Psalm 66. It says to sing the glory of God’s name, and that’s what I’ve been trying to do. It also talks about how God sometimes tests us. It says, ‘You brought us into prison—’”

“Don’t remind me!” Elin said.

“‘And laid burdens on our backs. . . .’”

“You mean like this trunk we’ve been lugging around?” Kirsten teased.

“Yes,” Sofia said, laughing, “like our faithful trunk. And it says, ‘We went through fire and water, but you brought us to a place of abundance.’ I think we’re finally finding that place.”

“Amen,” Elin murmured. “Amen.”

The carriage plodded slowly through the congested city streets. Finally the traffic began to thin and Sofia sat forward in her seat, growing excited as they neared the Swedish neighborhood.

“I’ve asked the driver to take a little detour,” she said. “There’s something I want to show both of you.” When she spotted the billboard she was looking for, plastered on the side of a building, she asked the driver to stop. Kirsten and Elin were astonished to see her name on it:
Sofia Carlson, the Swedish Songbird
.

“And I have another surprise for you. Mr. Lund gave me free tickets for both of you. You’re going to come and hear me sing tomorrow at the matinee.”

“I haven’t seen her show yet,” Kirsten said. “I can’t wait.”

Elin hugged her tightly. “Me either.”

Sofia was surprisingly nervous the next day as she prepared to perform for her sisters. She always wanted to do her best, but especially at this performance, with people she loved in the audience. She drew a deep breath as the curtain opened and walked to the center of the stage. With the spotlight shining on her, she couldn’t see Elin and Kirsten in the darkened theater, but she knew they were there, cheering for her. The pianist played the prelude to the Swedish love ballad that had become Sofia’s theme song. She closed her eyes, thinking of Ludwig, and sang the words just for him.

As she neared the end of the song, Sofia thought she saw a shadowy figure moving toward the stage down one of the aisles. She tried not to let it distract her as she poured her heart into the final heart-stirring chorus. Then, in the brief silence before the applause began, the shadow in the aisle called out to her.

“Sofia! . . . Sofia Carlson!”

Her heart began to race. She shaded her eyes and hurried to the edge of the stage to peer down. An usher was trying to pull the man away from the stage, away from her.

“Sofia!” he called again.

Ludwig.

It was him! It was Ludwig!
Oh, thank God he’s here at last!
But a second usher was hurrying down the aisle to help wrestle Ludwig out of the theater.

“Let him go,” she cried. “That’s Ludwig!”

Sofia raced to the side of the stage and down the steps to the auditorium, praising God for bringing Ludwig back to her. The applause went on and on, and she realized that the audience must think this was part of the show—two lovers were being reunited, just like in the song.

She could barely see through her tears of joy, and without hesitating, she ran straight into his arms. She had forgotten how tall he was, how handsome. He lifted her off her feet as they hugged each other.

“Ludwig!” she wept. “Ludwig, it’s really you!”

“I find you! At last I find you.” It took her a moment to realize that he had spoken in English. And that she had understood him.

The audience was on their feet, cheering and applauding, believing this was the climax of her act. Sofia took Ludwig’s hand and bowed again, then led him up the stairs the way she had come and through the curtain to the backstage area.

“Great ending to your number!” Mr. Lund said as he came forward to shake her hand. “The audience loved it! How did you think of it?”

Sofia shook her head, still too emotional to reply.

Mr. Lund’s eyes went wide. “You mean that was
real
?”

“Yes,” she managed to say. “This is Ludwig. I haven’t seen him for . . . for . . . I thought I’d lost him.”

Mr. Lund smiled and patted her arm. “Why don’t you go in the back and talk.”

Sofia and Ludwig held each other again in the privacy of the dressing room. At last she wiped her tears. “I know English, a little,” she said.

“I, too. But I learn how to say one thing in Swedish.” He held her face in his hands and looked into her eyes. “
Jag älskar dig.
I love you, Sofia.”

“And I love you, Ludwig.”

She went into his arms again and he held her tightly. “I thank God I find you,” he said in English. “I am looking for a long, long time to find you. In the fire, I lose everything. I know your name but not your house in Chicago. I am walking all around, looking and looking. I will knock on all of the doors in Chicago if I have to. I pray to God for help and then I see a big sign: ‘Sofia Carlson.’ And I am wondering if it is you—and it is!”

“The newspaper is telling about the fire on Ellis Island,” she said, looking up at him. “I am fearing you are there.”

“The ship is going to take me back to my country and I am thinking to swim, but before I do, there is the fire. I help some little childs to escape and the American officials see this, and they say that because I am strong enough to save those childs I am strong enough to live in America. They let me stay, but I have no money. My money burns in the fire, too. Some people from my country who are in New York, they find for me a violin to play and a job making music so I have money to come to Chicago. I tell them I have to find my Sofia. I cannot forget her.”

“I knew you would find me.”

“I love you, Sofia. All this time, I am hoping you love me, too.”

“I do!” she wept. “I do!”

They talked until the show ended. Then Sofia led Ludwig to the lobby, where she had promised to meet her sisters. “This is my sister Elin, and you already met Kirsten,” she told him in English. “This is my friend Ludwig Schneider,” she said in Swedish. “He came for his violin and his Bible.”

“We thought so,” Elin said, smiling.

Ludwig reached for her hand and held it up to show them. “I come to find my Sofia,” he said, “and I will not let her go again.” And even though he spoke in English, Sofia knew that her sisters understood.

“See? I knew he would find me,” she told them. “I knew he would.”

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Lynn Austin