Lydia smiled. “Hello, girls. How nice to see you.”
“Mother said we could come. Can Kjerstin and Britta play with us?”
“Absolutely. Zee and I can spare them, can’t we?”
Zee nodded. “I think it would be the perfect afternoon to go outdoors. The sun is shining and the temperature has warmed up nicely.”
“Still, I want you to wear your wool sweaters. There’s no sense in taking a chill.”
The girls jumped up from the table and headed for the peg where their sweaters were hanging. Kjerstin was already telling Natasha about some new kittens that had been born the day before, while Britta was whispering to Illiyana in a most conspiratorial manner.
Once the girls had gone from the house, Zee turned to Lydia and chuckled. “We won’t see them for hours now.”
“If I know Kjerstin and Natasha, they will spend all their time with the kittens, and Illiyana and Britta will no doubt take up residence in the new playhouse Kjell built.”
“That is quite the little house he put together. I like that it’s built up off the ground like a cache. The girls aren’t so inclined to have a wild animal wander in that way,” Zee said as she gathered up the girls’ embroidery.
“I’m glad,” Lydia began, “that you aren’t feeling quite so angry at the mission workers.”
Zee tucked the sewing away and straightened. “I don’t approve of everything they’ve done, but I’m starting to see now that there is no perfect way to minister. I suppose my biggest frustration is that we as white people come into a culture and demand that the natives do things our way. I want to see their lives bettered as much as anyone, but who says we have somehow arrived at the perfect way to live? Especially for specific areas of the world?”
“What do you mean, Zee?”
She came into the kitchen, where Lydia was already working to prepare supper. “Well, take this area for instance. The people here had established a way of living—of eating, of farming the land, of dressing. They knew what worked and what didn’t because of the generations that had gone before them. Then the whites come in and demand they change their way of living. They demand the children dress like whites and cut their hair. They demand they no longer speak Tlingit, but English. And for what purpose? Jesus certainly doesn’t require such things in order to be saved.”
“Of course He doesn’t,” Lydia agreed.
“But the white mission workers act otherwise. They tell the Tlingits that in order for their children to assimilate into the white world, they must cast aside every part of their Tlingit culture. I think that’s wrong.”
“I agree, but is there a way to seek a balance?”
“I believe so, but apparently Sheldon Jackson doesn’t,” Zee said, shaking her head. “I truly think the man intends good. He’s done great things, and I am not without admiration for him. Still, I think when it comes to the natives, it’s wrong to strip them of their heritage. If they are forced to stop speaking their language and hearing their old stories, it won’t be long before it will be completely forgotten. I think that would be a tragedy.”
“But on the other hand, if the children are caught between superstitions and false spiritual teachings, shouldn’t we step in to help them see the truth?” Lydia asked. “I believe that was the desired result by Mr. Jackson and the Presbyterian mission’s board.”
Zee considered her words for a moment. “I’m just not sure we always go about things in the best manner. Again, it’s one thing to try to help another people understand who Jesus is—that He died for their sins and offers them salvation, just as He does the whites. It’s another to step in and say you can’t be saved if you go barefoot and wear a blanket as your clothing. You can’t be saved if you speak a language other than English. You can’t be saved if you attend a potlatch feast. It’s just wrong, to my way of thinking.”
“I can see your point, Zee.” Lydia smiled sympathetically. “The Tlingit are fortunate to have you on their side.”
“For all the good it will do. I have helped to get plans for the new maternity hospital started, as well as worked with many of the young brides to learn about hygiene and sewing, but the force of our people is a hard one to stand up against.”
“Then perhaps we need to figure out ways not to oppose each other, but to blend together,” Lydia said. “Take the good from both sides.”
“I couldn’t agree more, but that’s not the attitude I see from our people. We storm into a place and say, ‘Our way is the only way!’ I cannot abide that. I don’t see Jesus doing that in the Bible. He said He was the only way to God, but He didn’t say that people had to first change everything else about their lives in order to be saved. He said, ‘I am the way, the truth, and the life: no man cometh unto the Father, but by me.’ ”
“But repentance from evil is necessary,” Lydia added.
“Yes, of course that’s necessary, as is putting aside idols,” Zee replied. “I agree with you. But I don’t see that all customs have to change.” She picked up a peeler to help Lydia with supper. “I don’t see that at all.”
“But shouldn’t we take some supplies?” Illiyana asked.
Britta shrugged. “The village is just up the mountain. It’s not that far. We can walk real fast and get back before it gets dark.”
Illiyana considered this for a moment. “And the shaman will be the one with the most powers. He can surely help us. My mother said in the old days he could make special potions to do all sorts of things. He had powers to bring the salmon and to help in hunts.”
“Mama and Zee said good powers come from God alone, but that He lets us do great things, too.” Britta shook her head. “I don’t really understand how it works, but I’ll bet the shaman does. Aunt Zee told me a long time ago that most of the old Tlingit people were letting Jesus come into their heart. That means he’d have to have good powers, right?”
The little girl seemed to give this careful consideration. “I just don’t see how it could be bad, if he loves Jesus. So you think he could have powers to keep me here so that we could go on being friends forever?”
“I think so,” Britta replied. “He will have a special way to keep your parents from moving back to Russia. I’m sure of it.”
Illiyana smiled and nodded with great enthusiasm. “That’s all I want.”
Chapter 26
Evie could hardly contain herself as Lydia opened the door. “I’m so excited about this. Joshua doesn’t suspect a thing.”
Lydia’s eyes widened at the news. “Are you certain?”
“Yes. I think he’s actually forgotten his birthday is even coming up,” Evie replied. “He definitely doesn’t expect us to throw him a surprise party.”
“Good. If he did, it wouldn’t be a surprise anymore. So did you bring all the ingredients we asked for?”
Following Lydia into the house, Evie glanced around. “Yes. I was able to get everything.” She put down the bag of goods. “Where is everyone?”
“Britta and Kjerstin were just enticed outside by the Belikov girls, and Zee went to tend to other chores. We’re alone for the moment.” Lydia pulled out a chair at the table and motioned Evie to sit. “Would you like some tea?”
“Yes, please. The walk here was refreshing, but I always find a cup of tea is the perfect conclusion.” Evie sat down and put aside her shawl.
Lydia was only a moment. She gathered two cups and saucers and brought them to the table. “I had just brewed a pot, so your timing is perfect. When Zee returns, we’ll have her join us.”
Evie nodded. “I’m so grateful to you for helping me with this. Joshua and I were talking about birthdays once last winter, and he said he had never had a birthday party in all of his life. Then when he arranged for such a nice dinner last month for my birthday, I knew I had to do something special.”
Lydia laughed. “It’s a great deal of fun to surprise someone with such a festive event. Are you two still going to come over tonight for supper?”
“To b
e sure.” Evie took the offered tea and sipped. “Oh, this is quite delicious. Thank you so much. I figure if we come tonight, and you just casually mention having us over next week, then he won’t be any wiser to what’s happening.”
“It also helps that we aren’t actually celebrating on his birthday,” Lydia said as she took her seat.
“Exactly.” Evie put her cup down. “Phoebe is going to help me get the invitations out to folks. She’s been such a great help.”
“I think Dalton definitely found a winner in her,” Lydia remarked. “She loves to keep busy. I could never accuse her of laziness. She keeps the cleanest house I’ve ever seen.”
“That’s true. Oh, by the way, what time should we plan on arriving tonight?” Evie asked.
“Come after work. Joshua and Kjell both usually finish up around five this time of year. So just head out after that.”
“All right. What about Dalton and Phoebe? Have you included them?”
“I haven’t yet, but you could certainly get word to them on your way home. I’d love for them to join us. I keep thinking surely one of these days they’ll be announcing that Phoebe is with child. I don’t know why, but I just expect it won’t be long.”
Evie put her hand over her flat stomach. “I’d like to think it could happen for us, as well, but I don’t count on it.” She looked up at Lydia. “I would so love to give Joshua children. He says it’s not the end of the world if we can’t have them, but I think it would make me very sad.”
“Don’t borrow trouble, Evie. You have no reason to think you can’t have children. You aren’t that old. Give it time.”
Reaching across the table, Evie placed her hand atop Lydia’s. “You have always been such a dear friend to me, Lydia. I cherish that. You always encourage me and give me hope. Thank you for welcoming me here. I’m so glad that God put you in my life.”
“I feel the same way about you. Not only that, but I’m blessed that Dalton had a chance to be raised with you in his life. Especially now that he knows about the others, and about his father.”
“The trip to Kansas City was good for him, Lydia. It made him realize some important things. I know he still struggles with some of it. I remember the deep hole it left in my heart when Mama died. I can’t help but imagine Dalton has struggled with a similar hole where our father is concerned.”
“But Kjell has always been there for him,” Lydia protested. “He was a much better father than Floyd could ever have been.”
Evie nodded. “Yes, and Dalton knows that. He loves Kjell as his only father, but you must understand. There will always be those questions—those unanswered questions. Am I like him? How has his blood influenced me? Will the past affect my future? Our father is dead and gone, but in here,” she said, tapping her chest, “in here, we can’t help but ask those questions.”
Lydia considered this for a moment. “I suppose I can understand. I used to ask some of those things myself. I worried that Dalton would turn out to look and sound like Marston or Mitchell.
Worse yet, I feared he would be hateful and mean like Floyd.”
“And Dalton can’t help but harbor those same concerns, Lydia.
You have done a wonderful thing in raising him here away from the influence of anything having to do with the Gray side of his heritage. But Dalton will continue to evaluate his life in the light of his father’s memory.”
“I’m heading home early,” Kjell told Dalton. “I plan to get some repairs done on the horse shed before I lose all of the light.”
He stretched and Dalton could see him try to hide a grimace of pain.
“Sounds good. I have some doors to finish putting on the cabinets in the kitchen. I figured to get those done before I head out.” Dalton looked around the large open room. “It’s finally coming together. It was hard to see when we first started, but now I’m so amazed at what we’ve accomplished.”
His father leaned back against the doorjamb. “It’s the best thing I’ve done yet. I wish you weren’t so passionate about boat building. I think we’d make a great team in building together.”
Dalton nodded. He thought of how his father’s back had been bothering him more and more of late. “I’ll keep that in mind. Could be that no one will want my boats and I’ll fail miserably.”
“I seriously doubt that,” Father replied. “Oh, but speaking of boats, I heard that there would be quite a few Tlingit boys graduating this year who are skilled at boat building. They’ve been taught by a man at the Industrial School. You might want to go there and see about hiring them on. You could plan to put together some really nice pieces—even bigger boats than you figured on.”
“That’s a great idea. I’ll plan to go talk with them.”
“Sitka is changing—growing. I’ve heard about a lot of the plans and can’t help but think that as folks figure out that Alaska isn’t just ice and snow, more and more people will come north.”
“I hope there aren’t too many who come here,” Dalton said thoughtfully. “I rather like our small community. After spending time in Kansas City and seeing so many of the States below . . . well, I’m content to live a more isolated existence.”
His father nodded. “I agree. Maybe Sitka is a secret best kept.”
After his father had gone, Dalton went back to work. He was glad he’d let Kjell make special cabinets for the kitchen. They had ordered beautiful oak wood from the States, and it complemented the room in a wonderful way. Dalton ran his hand over the door he’d just secured. A sense of pride washed over him.
“Hello?”
He turned. “Yuri?” He walked to the front of the house and found his old friend standing hat in hand. He looked hesitant. Dalton couldn’t say as he blamed him. “Come in.”
“I was hoping we could talk.”
Dalton nodded. “I think we need to. I know I owe you an apology.”
“And I owe you one, as well.” He looked at Dalton rather sheepishly. “I sure haven’t been much of a friend to you.”
“I guess we’re even then.” Dalton extended his hand and Yuri took hold. For a moment, they just stood there. Dalton could see the pain in Yuri’s expression. He wanted nothing more than to put his friend at ease. “Phoebe told me I was an ignorant beast.”
Yuri laughed. “And what did you say?”
Grinning, Dalton shrugged. “I told her she was right. I honestly don’t know what got into me.” He dropped his hold. “Come on. We can sit in the kitchen. There’s a table and chairs. It’s about the only furniture here right now.”
Yuri followed him as Dalton led the way. “This house is incredible. It’s so big. You’ve got enough room here to hold a dance. Phoebe should be pleased.”
“I think she is. There are four bedrooms upstairs. We plan for her mother and brothers to live with us. There is one larger bedroom downstairs near the back of the house. We figure it will give us a bit of privacy. Have a seat,” Dalton said, pointing to the table. “Sorry we drank all the coffee. The stove’s gone cold or I’d put on another pot.”
“I didn’t come for that anyway,” Yuri replied. The two men sat and both folded their hands on the table as if by prearrangement.
Dalton smiled. “I guess we’re a lot alike, you and me.”
Yuri shook his head. “Not nearly enough. You’ve always been the better man. I think that’s what I’ve allowed to come between us. I’ve been jealous of you for a long time now. You were always the better boat builder—the better son.”
“That’s not true, Yuri. You’re a good man and a good son.” Dalton remembered Phoebe talking about the degree of danger involved with Yuri’s problems. “We all make mistakes, Yuri. The biggest, however, is to let a situation go on without seeking the help that might reverse the problem.”
“That’s what Phoebe helped me to see. She’s a good woman, Dalton. She loves you more than you even realize.”
Dalton leaned back in his chair. “I’m just coming to see that. I don’t know why I got so angry when
I saw you two together. I guess it just reminded me of your interest in her.”
“I would never try to take her from you, Dalton. You are married. That is sacred. I can’t say that I wasn’t upset when you came home to Sitka, and up and proposed marriage to her. I was sure I would have time to woo her, but now I realize you two probably fell in love when she fell into Sitka Sound.”
“I think you’re right,” Dalton agreed. “I didn’t realize love could hit a person that way.”
For a moment, neither one said anything. Dalton could see that Yuri was uncomfortable with what he’d come to say, however. He clenched and unclenched his jaw, and Dalton noted the little tick around his eye that always flared when Yuri was troubled.
“So why don’t you tell me what’s happened to cause you this grief.”
Yuri looked up. “I’ve managed to amass a huge gambling debt. The drinking marred my judgment, and I made bad choices. I kept thinking I could win back the money, but I only continued to lose more. The men I fell into company with allowed me credit, and now they are demanding the shop.”
Dalton shook his head in disbelief. “The boat shop?”
“Yes. They’ve agreed to at least wait until Father and Mother leave for Russia. I figure I will just have to tell Father at a later date that I sold the shop. I can’t bear to face him with the truth.”
“But, Yuri, he would want to know. You can’t give up your inheritance.”
“But that’s part of the problem, Dalton. I don’t care about the shop like you do. I don’t want to be a boat builder for the rest of my life.”
This wasn’t the first time Dalton had heard Yuri complain about the business. He knew his friend was far less interested than he in the craft, but so far he’d never heard Yuri say what did appeal to him. “So what do you want to do with your life?”
“I don’t know, and that grieves me even more. I don’t feel capable of anything. I thought about fishing, but I would have to apprentice with someone. I don’t know nearly enough about it to head out to sea and not end up dead. I’ve thought about other things, as well, but, Dalton, I don’t feel like I’m good at anything.”
[Song of Alaska 02] - Morning's Refrain Page 24