“That was close,” Dr. Gaskin said. “Might not have had this happy picture if it hadn’t been for you.”
Elizabeth stared down at her hands. Yes, this was what they were designed for. She looked up at the doctor. “I must get into medical school. But what if I’m not accepted?”
CHAPTER FIVE
Blessing, North Dakot
Plowing until past dark left precious little time for schoolwork, let alone for writing.
Thorliff dragged his tired body up the stairs to the room he and Andrew shared and flung himself across the bed. While the full moon was beautiful, it only meant longer hours behind the teams.
“Another one of the baby pigs died.” Andrew sat on the bed to unlace his boots.
“Sorry.”
“Pa says that’s just the way of pigs. That’s why they have so many, but there must be ways to keep them from being stepped and laid on. That dumb sow.”
“Some are sure more careful than others.” Thorliff levered himself upright. Today Pastor Solberg had given him the forms to fill out for application to St. Olaf. Now the big question came. Would he be going against his father’s orders if he just filled out the papers? Pa hadn’t said not to fill out the papers. He’d said Thorliff should stay on the farm. What do I do, God? If you are working on changing Far’s mind, I sure don’t see it. He thought to the verse Pastor Solberg had had the whole school memorize. “Faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.” So does that mean I’m to have faith that you are changing Far’s mind and proceed as if you have?
“Why do things have to be so difficult?” He slammed his fist against the pillow and stood.
“I don’t know. I’m going back out to check on them.” Andrew tied his laces around his ankles and clomped back down the stairs, leaving Thorliff to stare after him. Things were so simple for Andrew. Go to school. Do the chores. All he cared about was what happened on the farm, in school, and in their town of Blessing. He wouldn’t mind leaving school, but when he’d suggested so, Mor had given him a big piece of her mind. Andrew hadn’t asked again.
Thorliff took his books and papers back downstairs to work at the kitchen table where the light was better. The paper he’d been assigned—to compare the teachings of the apostle Paul and the teachings of Aristotle—was taking longer than he’d planned. Reading the writings of each in Greek slowed him down some, but writing his paper in English slowed him even more. He flipped both books open to the pages he was reading and started in again.
The forms for St. Olaf stayed out of sight in the back of the leather case his father had made him for Christmas.
With four students graduating from Blessing School, the first class ever, Pastor Solberg had asked all of the graduates to write a commencement speech as well as a paper on what they felt the school had done for them. He then called a meeting one afternoon after the bell rang.
“So then, how are your themes coming?” He looked at each one of them directly.
“I’m finished.” Anji held up her pages.
Thorliff sighed and gave her a rolled-eye look. Anji always had things finished ahead of time. “I’m about halfway done,” he said. “The longer the daylight, the less time I have.”
“I understand that.” Solberg looked to Manda.
She shrugged and shook her head. “I hate writing stuff like this.” She gave her scribbled pages a shove, then scrambled to keep them from fluttering to the floor.
“I know.” He nodded to Jacob, the eldest son of a family new to the area. “How about you?”
“I wrote it all right in Norwegian, but uff da, saying it in English . . .” The slender boy who walked with a limp shrugged. “I am working on it.”
“Good. Now I’d like to talk about the graduation exercises. Of course, your final exams come first, but the actual graduation ceremony will be held in the church. Hjelmer has gone to the trouble of having a photographer come, so we will have pictures of you for both the church and your families. He looked to the two boys. “If you could borrow a suit or if you have one, that would look very nice.”
Thorliff had an idea his grandmother and his mother and Aunt Kaaren were sewing him a suit on their Singer sewing machines. Mor had measured his arms and chest and down his legs. When he’d asked what it was all for, she’d tapped his arm and said, “None of your business, young man.” He shared a grin with Anji.
“If there is any way I can help you, please don’t hesitate to ask.”
“You could write this paper for me,” Manda muttered loud enough for only Thorliff to hear. He knew she’d rather be out training horses than staying in school, but Pastor had insisted she finish. Thorliff kept a chuckle from going further than his mind. Here he wanted nothing more than to go to school, and she’d rather farm.
The discussion continued with Pastor Solberg outlining how graduation would go, what papers he expected before exams, and how he would run the final exams. “I just want to make sure we’ve met all the state requirements.” He glanced at each of them again. “Are there any questions?”
“If there is nothing else, sir, I need to get home,” Thorliff said.
“You want a ride?”
“No. I can run it faster than the team. Thank you, anyway.” Thorliff rose. “See you tomorrow.” Once out the door, he hit the ground running. He burst through the kitchen door and, seeing no one around, leaped up the stairs to his bedroom to change clothes. Back downstairs he cut off a chunk of cheese, sliced a hunk of bread, and chewing them both, headed for the barn. Andrew already had the team harnessed. As they lifted the yokes over the necks of the oxen, one of the beasts shifted and stepped on Thorliff ’s foot.
“Ouch.” He gave the animal a shove. “Get off.”
“I think he does that on purpose.” Andrew tried to keep from laughing. “General would rather stay in the pasture.”
“Dumb beast.” Thorliff bent down to push the bow up through the holes in the yoke. His hat fell off when the same critter nosed it. “Now see what you did?” He pushed the pegs through the hoops and reached down for his hat, only to get a nose swipe from Paws. Thorliff came up wiping his nose and glaring at his brother, who’d lost his skirmish against laughter.
Paws leaped from one boy to the other, yipping his delight at having them home again.
“You’d think he was still a pup the way he carries on.” Thorliff thumped the dog on the ribs and settled his hat back on his head. “You want the horses or the oxen?”
“I’ll take the oxen. Pa said for you to go on over to Onkel Lars’s section.”
“All right.” Thorliff backed the horses on either side of the sulky and hooked the traces. “See you later.” He started to cluck the team forward but looked over his shoulder to Andrew instead. “You seen Baptiste lately?”
“No, but Metiz was on her way to the store when we came home from school. Mor is at the boardinghouse.”
Metiz, who was old when the Bjorklunds met her soon after they located land to homestead, was half Lakota Sioux and half French Canadian. Her grandson, Baptiste, had grown up with Thorliff, the two fast friends. Baptiste had learned what he needed and left school as soon as he could.
Thorliff nodded. Tonight he’d suggest Pa hire Baptiste to help plow during the day. Although why they hadn’t already done that was beyond him. Or Sam from the blacksmith, if he wasn’t working for someone else.
Burning the midnight oil took on new meaning for Thorliff as he struggled to finish his commitments to school, keep up with his share of work on the Bjorklund farm, and eke out a bit of writing. He collapsed into bed long after the rest of the family slept and woke up tired.
“What time did you blow out the lamp last night?” Ingeborg asked as she set a plate of ham and eggs in front of him.
“I don’t know.” He rubbed his eyes and scrubbed a hand over his hair. “I’ll be glad when school is over. That is all.” He shoveled in the food and pushed back his chair. “Mange takk.”
Ingeborg
walked with him down the steps. “Have you filled out the forms for St. Olaf yet?”
“No. No time. Besides, I know we can’t afford that, and you know how Far feels. How can I go against him?”
“You let me deal with your far. You fill out the papers and send them in. Somehow this will all work out.”
That afternoon Thorliff stayed after school long enough to finish the forms he’d started to fill out during the day. From there he ran over to the store and handed his envelope to Mr. Valders, who helped his aunt Penny in the store when she needed to be gone.
“All the womenfolk are over at the boardinghouse.” Mr. Valders reached for the letter. “That’ll be two cents for the stamp.”
Thorliff dug in his pocket and laid a nickel on the counter. “The mail hasn’t gone yet, has it?”
“Didja hear the train come?” Mr. Valders asked, handing Thorliff his change.
Thorliff shrugged. “Sometimes I don’t pay no attention.”
“Well, it should be here right soon. Your mor need anything?”
“Not that I know. Thanks.” Thorliff headed back out the door and broke into a run, leaping off the porch, hanging on to his porkpie hat with one hand until he snatched it off his head and pelted down the lane. Fields awaited him.
“Thorliff, wake up.” Andrew shook his brother’s shoulder the next day in class.
Thorliff raised his head from his arms. He blinked, then shot upright. “Sorry.” He could feel his face flaming as one of the other students giggled. He’d fallen asleep at school, his head on the desk. He glanced up to see Pastor Solberg shaking his head.
“You have been burning the candle at both ends and the middle too, I’m afraid.”
Thorliff could do nothing but nod. Of course he was right, but what else could he do?
That night when Andrew blabbed about the incident at the supper table, Thorliff wanted to reach over and smack him. “Hush!” He put as much authority into a whisper as possible.
Haakan studied his eldest son. “Are you behind in your schoolwork?”
“No, sir, but . . .” Thorliff thought of his hours ahead. “Just have a lot to get done before graduation.”
“I see.” Haakan and Ingeborg exchanged a look. “Then I suggest you take the next afternoons and finish before you fall asleep on the plow and fall off. You can get hurt right bad thataway.”
Thorliff nodded. “Thank you.”
“And tonight, get to bed early.”
“Yes, sir.” Thorliff took another bite of his bread. “What about hiring Baptiste?”
“Good idea. I’ll talk to him tomorrow. Since he’s been providing much of the meat for the boardinghouse, he’s not had much free time.”
The next afternoon Thorliff arrived home to see his team already out in the field. Ignoring the guilt that thrashed him about the head and shoulders, he helped Andrew yoke up the oxen, then set to his books. With the extra sleep he’d been able to accomplish more during school too, so when Haakan blew out the lamp, Thorliff closed his books and headed up the stairs.
“Thanks again, Pa.”
“You’re welcome. There’s some letters to go in the mail tomorrow if you’d take them with you in the morning.”
“Of course. Good night.” Thorliff stumbled on the top stair and caught himself on the doorframe. Was he really that tired? He crawled into bed without disturbing the sleeping Andrew and rolled onto his side so he could look out the window. Sayings from the apostle Paul and from Aristotle chased each other through the maze of his mind, as if the two were debating. But when they both began speaking in Norwegian, he pulled the pillow over his head. Run the race. He repeated the words in both English and Norwegian. God, what is the race you have set before me? How can I run it if I don’t know?
When he woke in the morning to the sound of Haakan calling his name, he felt as if he’d been running all night.
The following Sunday, graduation day dawned clear and sunny like all the days preceding. Thorliff knelt by the windowsill to watch the flaming orange disc break clear of the horizon. Shouldn’t there be fireworks or something spectacular to herald this day?
“Lord God, beginning and ending, how can one thing be both?” He whispered the words so as not to wake Andrew. He needed every moment of rest possible, just like his older brother. But sleep had been hard to come by the night before, and Thorliff had risen before the rooster crowed, when the sunrise was only a promise of narrow silver.
If only I knew for sure what I am going to do. He rested his chin on his crossed hands and listened to the wrens twitting their morning song, the cheery notes seeming to promise good things ahead.
“Thorliff, Andrew, cows to milk.” Ingeborg’s voice floated up the stairs at the same time Haakan’s whistle told Paws to round up the cows. Most of them would already be lined up at the back barn door, patiently waiting to trail inside.
Andrew stirred in the bed, then his feet hit the floor. “You all right?”
“Ja.” Thorliff stood, his knee creaking a protest after kneeling on the hard floor for so long. They shrugged into their overalls and headed for the barn.
“Ready for the big day?” Ingeborg called after him. Thorliff didn’t answer. Didn’t matter if he was ready or not, the day was here and would go on in spite of him. The thought brought up his coming commencement speech. Now he had a whole flock of butterflies chasing around in his middle. All the while his hands pulled milk from the cows, his mind repeated his speech. How come the other day it sounded just fine, and now it seemed like barley chaff to blow away on the wind?
“You ready, Thorliff?” Astrid greeted him with a grin after the men had washed up at the outside bench.
“I guess.” He rubbed his middle.
“Hungry, son? Let’s get seated and say grace.” Ingeborg set a platter of sliced ham on the table. When they were all seated, Haakan waited for silence. After the normal I Jesu navn, he paused before the amen. “And, Lord, give our son a calm spirit this day as he prepares to give his speech. We all know he will do a fine job, now please calm him inside and out.” He raised his gaze to wink at his son. “Amen.”
Never had Thorliff spoken a more heartfelt amen.
“Thorliff, you are handsome.” Astrid stared openmouthed at her big brother, dressed now in his new brown tweed suit, sewn with love by his mother, grandmother, and aunt Kaaren.
He could feel his ears flaming at her unabashed delight. “Mange tusen takk.” He resisted the urge to pull at the neck of his new white shirt or loosen the knot in his tie. This was a day of firsts for all kinds of things. A new suit, a new tie, and even new boots that shone with all the polish Haakan could apply. And it would be the first time he would have his photograph taken. Pastor Solberg had said that Uncle Hjelmer had arranged for a photographer to come from Grand Forks to take pictures of the graduating class, since this was the first for Blessing School.
Instead of running across the prairie as was his wont, Thorliff rode in the wagon with his family.
His breath caught in his throat when he saw Anji waiting with the others by the front door of the church. A vision in a daisy-sprigged white dress trimmed with a yellow sash, she smiled nervously when he approached.
“You . . . you are . . . are . . .” He stopped to clear his throat. He who could cover a page with words so effortlessly—where had they all gone now when he needed them? She touched a hand to her throat where a cameo hung on a yellow silk ribbon.
He still hadn’t found his vocal cords by the time they filed into the church to sit in the front row. His heart pounded so loud he was sure Pastor could hear it clear up by the altar.
CHAPTER SIX
The Sunday morning service proceeded as usual with the opening hymn, “Holy, Holy, Holy.” All Thorliff could think about was the beautiful young woman beside him who kept giving him questioning glances when his voice continued cracking instead of rising strong on the familiar words.
Before the closing prayer, Pastor Solberg waited for the sh
uffling to cease. “And, Father God, we beseech thee to send rain in the right amounts this year. We confess to our fear of another drought and thank thee for thy great mercy in seeing us through the last one. Now to Him be all glory and honor as we praise His holy name. Amen.” Pastor Solberg looked over his congregation. “As you all know, we will be having dinner together first, and then we will celebrate the graduation of four young people from our school. I invite all of you to attend and help these fine members of our congregation celebrate this large milestone in their lives.” He smiled at the four in the front pew. “And now”—he paused and raised both hands—“the Lord bless and keep thee, the Lord make his face to shine upon thee . . .”
So often the words were just for closing the service, but today they smote deep into Thorliff ’s mind and soul. Every Sunday around the world those words were spoken and had been for centuries. And they would continue just as there always would be young people graduating from school and going on with their lives.
He glanced at Anji, who apparently feeling his attention, turned to smile at him. That, too, felt like a benediction, a blessing. He smiled back, wishing he dared take her hand. He could get lost in Anji’s smile. His throat clogged, and the backs of his eyes burned. He looked forward again and commanded himself to take deep breaths. Together they stood for the closing hymn, each holding half of the hymnbook. His voice cracked on the first notes, so he swallowed and tried again, harmonizing as naturally as she did.
If life could get any better than right this moment, he was hard put to think what it might be.
Sometime later Pastor called everyone back inside the church. “We are gathered again now to honor these young people of ours, the first graduates of Blessing School.” Pastor Solberg beamed at the four in the front row. While some folks had left for home after the dinner, most had stayed for the ceremony.
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