“I’m going to take a prisoner north to Vard0. He’ll serve his sentence at Vard0 Fortress.”
“You travel with people who are going to prison?” asked Dina.
“Yes,” he said simply, took a sip of punsj, and gave a teasing look to each of them in turn.
“Is that good work?” asked Anders skeptically.
“It’s as good as anything else.”
“But those wretched people?”
Dina shuddered and sat erect.
“We all have our prisons,” Leo observed.
“That’s different,” said Anders.
He tried to hide that he was shaken by this Russian’s work.
“Do you travel with prisoners often?” asked Dina.
“No,” he replied laconically.
“What made you decide to do it?” asked Johan.
He had been sitting quietly, and somewhat shocked, saying nothing.
“Laziness, and a desire for adventure.” Leo laughed.
“Wouldn’t you prefer some proper trade … rather than this prisoner business?” Anders wondered.
“This isn’t business. I’m not interested in business. This is being involved with people in difficult circumstances. People interest me. They teach me things about myself.”
“I don’t understand,” said Anders, embarrassed.
“And what have you learned from the prisoners?” Dina interjected.
“That your actions don’t always reveal who you are!”
“The Bible says our deeds determine who we are. Isn’t that true, Johan?” said Dina.
Her back was very erect now.
“That’s true,” agreed Johan, clearing his throat. “But of course, there may be much we don’t know about a person’s unhappy fate.”
“Niels, for example, does things he really doesn’t want to do, because he’s a stranger at Reinsnes. Had he felt at home here, he’d have done things very differently,” said Leo.
Anders stared at him, gaping.
Dina leaned forward.
“Niels is surely no more a stranger than I am,” Anders protested, with a quick look at Dina.
Dina leaned back in the chaise lounge and said:
“Tell us about it, Leo Zjukovski!”
“I’ve heard how Niels and Anders came to Reinsnes. Heard their stories. Which are parallel Nonetheless, something about this house excludes Niels and embraces Anders.”
“What do you mean?” Dina asked brightly.
“I think it’s the mistress’s example, which everyone else must follow.”
One could hear the snow swishing past the windows. A slow, warning rustle.
“Why should I exclude Niels?”
“I don’t know.”
“Perhaps you could ask him, or anybody else, for that matter?”
“I’ve already asked Niels.”
“And what did he say?”
“That he hasn’t noticed it.”
“And doesn’t that tell you that something is haunting Niels’s conscience? Like dirty lice in a clean bed.”
“You may be right,” said Leo.
Anders grew uneasy. He found the conversation disgraceful.
“He made Stine pregnant and denied paternity!” Dina burst out contemptuously.
“Men do shameful things like that all the time. But they don’t often go to prison for it nowadays.”
“No, but maybe a man ought to go to prison if he deceives someone into believing he wants to get married,” said Dina.
“Maybe. But the prisons would be filled. And then what would we do with the murderers?”
“The murderers?”
“Yes. Those we regard as dangerous. Those whom we must isolate from everyone in any case.”
Somewhere inside her, she shot out a fumbling hand. Hjertrud was not there! Lorch! He was in pitch darkness.
“It’s getting late,” she said lightly, and stood up.
Johan pulled his coat lapels. He thought the conversation had little to do with Christmas.
“I can’t see that anyone here at Reinsnes has treated Niels improperly. We give him our confidence … and work and housing and food. I agree he’s a bit strange. But Dina can’t be blamed for that,” Johan concluded.
He cleared his throat several times.
“I think he feels so excluded that he’s considering going to America,” Leo said into thin air. As if he had not heard Johan’s last words.
“America?” gasped Anders in disbelief.
Dina’s face was a mask.
“One day just before Christmas I found him looking at a map of America. I asked if he was thinking about taking a trip. Judging from his response, the thought is there,” Leo explained.
“But he’s never said a word! And it’s so expensive!” muttered Anders.
“Maybe he’s been saving money,” said Leo.
At that instant, Dina’s eyes began to sparkle. She sat down again. And one shoe, which had been only halfway on her foot, soon lay askew under her toes.
The numbers? Columns of numbers rose up the wainscoting. And crept from the shadows along the silk tapestry. They became so clear!
Dina watched and listened with an open expression.
“Saving? How could he possibly save any money?” asked Anders. “I have a larger income, since I get a percentage of the cargo boat profits, and I don’t have anything to save! Niels only receives a salary, after all…”
He looked apologetically at Dina and Johan, in case they felt he was talking too freely.
“He doesn’t have as many living expenses as you, Anders. He may have been saving for years!” said Dina harshly.
She put on her shoe and tied the laces properly so she would not trip and break a leg. Then she gathered her skirts and got to her feet again.
She was no closer to Leo than to the Big Dipper.
“It’s getting late,” she repeated,- and walked across the room toward the door.
“If you need Niels in the warehouse and store, you must make him feel he’s part of Reinsnes. Otherwise you’ll lose him,” Leo said slowly and clearly to Dina’s back.
“You may be right,” mumbled Johan. “I’ve known there was something. He wrote me such strange letters when I was away…”
Dina turned so abruptly that her skirts flared.
“Those who don’t behave like decent human beings, and don’t accept responsibility, will have no peace, no matter where they go,” she said, suddenly breathless.
“But that’s not for people to judge,” remarked Johan.
“Nobody has judged!” she said firmly.
“That’s not completely true,” Anders objected. “Niels doesn’t know how to make things right again. It’s an impossible situation. And he couldn’t marry Stine … just because of the child.” “Why couldn’t he?” she snarled.
“Oh, for God’s sake…” Anders hemmed and hawed.
“He did something wrong, obviously. But we all do that, sooner or later,” Johan said quietly. “And after all, Stine has a good life here now,” he added.
“Stine doesn’t have a good life! She’s rotting here. While he’s making plans to go to America! But I think that’s fine! For everyone concerned. Then the air will be clean. And we’ll be able to breathe.”
“What about the warehouse?”
Johan did not know what objections to raise. Just knew he must say something.
“Don’t worry, we’ll find someone,” said Dina confidently. “But after all, he hasn’t left yet!”
“I heard rumors at the warehouse that Niels would prefer Mistress Dina,” said Leo.
The man did not give up, apparently. Dina should have been out the door already. Now it was too late. She had to stay longer.
“I see! And does Leo Zjukovski want me to marry Niels so he won’t feel excluded?”
The small smile was a barrier around her.
“Forgive me! That was impolite,” said Leo. He rose and bowed, then hurried across the room to hold the d
oor for her. He said good night and closed the door behind them.
The hallway was dark. The candle had burned all the way down in the brass candlestick. But through the tall window, the moon created pillars of light and turned the grating of small panes into a latticework over them.
He had crossbars on his face and shoulders. They moved in the same grates.
He put his arm around her as they climbed the stairway. It creaked slightly, as it always did. His hips touched hers. The words he had just spoken, and everything in their wake, disappeared. Simply no longer existed.
He was a solid weight. Deep, deep in her lap.
“Forgive Niels,” he whispered, as they reached the second floor.
“That’s not up to me,” she replied, angry that he had broached the subject.
“It will give you peace.”
“I don’t need peace!”
“What do you need, then?”
She grasped his hips with both hands and forced him toward her.
Then she opened the front of his shirt and put her hands inside.
The brooch in his neckband pressed against her hand, jabbed it again and again.
Suddenly she twisted free and slipped into her bedroom. It happened so fast. Was so dark. Could have been something they had dreamed. Each one separately.
Chapter 16
Make a joyful noise to the Lord, all the lands!
Serve the Lord with gladness!
Come into his presence with singing!
Know that the Lord is God!
It is he that made us, and we are his.
— Psalms 100 : 1-3
They went to church on Christmas Day. In the longboat. Johan had to give the sermon on short notice, because the pastor was ill.
It was an important occasion, so they bundled up Mother Karen carefully and carried her aboard like a package.
She smiled and nodded to everyone again and again and was bursting with pride over Johan.
The pastor was confined to bed, but his wife attended the service.
Mother Karen sat with her in the first row. Dina and all the others from Reinsnes were seated in the second row.
Leo chose to sit in the back of the church.
The massive stone walls. The candles. The shadows that lived in corners where neither daylight nor firelight ever prevailed. The hymn-singing. Humans grew small under God’s immense ceiling. They sat close to one another on the wooden pews and warmed themselves together.
The Gospel of John: “And the light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it…. He came to his own home, and his own people received him not.”
Johan had prepared his sermon carefully during the days just before Christmas. Had practiced it with Mother Karen. His face was extremely pale, and his eyes asked for mercy. But his voice was resonant.
He spoke about the grace that comes from believing in Jesus.
About being ready to accept revelation and salvation. About how sin loses its power when a person lets in the light. The two greatest marvels known to mankind were Jesus Christ and Grace.
Mother Karen nodded and smiled. She knew each word by heart. Old as she was, her brain still functioned like a chest of drawers. Once she had put something there, she could find it when needed.
People liked the sermon, and after the service they flocked around Johan in the churchyard.
“It truly gave one peace,” said the pastor’s wife, pressing Johan’s hand.
A constant vapor came from each mouth. It formed a cloud over their heads. Slowly, the congregation made its way to the parsonage for a coffee hour.
Dina took her time. Went to the outhouse first. Alone.
The churchyard grew quiet at last. She walked along a narrow, trampled path to the side of the church that faced the sea. Then she climbed the snowdrifts to the parapet. This was a church in which you could defend yourself. With thick walls and an unobstructed view of the water.
As Dina gazed at the mountain ridges across the fjord, Hjertrud showered them with millions of mother-of-pearl shells. They gleamed so brightly that the sounds from the parsonage disappeared. The boats on the ebb-tide beach were enchanted spirits that lay waiting.
She stood unseen. With the huge stone church between her and the others.
Then his steps broke into Hjertrud’s glow.
They walked into the empty church, through the sacristy. The door was not visible from the parsonage. It was quite dark inside, now that there were no candles burning.
Their steps echoed from the stone walls. They walked the entire length of the church, from the choir to the main door. Side by side, without saying a word. Up the steps to the organ loft. There, it was even darker than below. The organ leaned over them, ponderous and silent.
“I think we need a blessing,” he said.
“Yes. But we’ll provide the light ourselves,” she replied, with her mouth against his neck.
There should have been silk sheets and lighted candles in the choir. It should have been summer, with vases of birch leaves lining the center alsie. at the very least, the naro wooden noor should nave been swept. But there was no time for preparations.
They did not see much of each other. But blood pumped strongly into all the small veins and vessels. Time was very limited. But it sufficed for a complete initiation.
His scar was her landmark during the wildest storm. There was no way back.
Before Leo appeared at the parapet, he had seen the sexton leave the churchyard. Witnesses could wait until another time. The location was not planned. But since it was to be, there was no better cathedral in all of Nordland,
At the parsonage, the coffee hour proceeded with dignity.
The sheriff and Johan sat on either side of a merchant from Bergen who had settled in the parish and received an innkeeper’s license. This had irritated many people, because he threatened existing trade.
The conversation was about glaciers. The man from Bergen wondered why so few glaciers existed here in the north. After all, there were high mountains. And dampness from the sea all year round! In Vestland, and especially in Sogn, where he had lived, the climate was milder, but there were large glaciers nonetheless.
The sheriff spoke knowledgeably. The sea here was not as cold as people might think. And there were warm currents.
Johan agreed with the sheriff. And added that whereas farther south in Norway you had to go far above the tree line to find cloudberries and dwarf birches, here in the north these luxuriantly crowned birches grew all the way down to the sea. And cloudberries ripened even on the islands and beaches!
But no one had a true explanation of such complex natural phenomena.
Mother Karen thought God made people different according to His own wisdom. He probably saw He needed to let the cloudberries and birch thickets grow down to the seashore in the north. And He wanted to spare the Nordlanders from the awful glaciers, because they had enough problems. All the cold weather. All the autumn storms and crop failures! And the inscrutable ways of the fish in the sea. Everything considered, God was wise!
The pastor’s wife nodded amiably. At that, less-informed people from surrounding farms nodded too. If the pastor’s wife agreed, it must be so.
Johan did not want to discuss Mother Karen’s theological explanations of the nature and distribution of glaciers. He just gave her a tender look and kept silent.
The merchant ignored the old woman disrespectfully. He said it was very strange that glaciers were not always found on the highest mountain peaks. They seemed governed by no plan and no law.
Dina entered the room quietly, and a girl in a sheer white apron served her coffee and Iefse. People made room for her at the table, but she chose to sit on a high-backed chair near the door.
The sheriff said he could not accept the theory that glaciers were formed by damp sea air. For as far as he knew, the Jostedal glacier was in one of the driest districts in Sogn, whereas the Romsdal and Nordland mountains, which rose from the edg
e of the sea, had scarcely any glaciers!
About this time, something occurred. A general unrest. Which had nothing to do with Norwegian glaciers. It was hard to say where it began. But soon a subtle fragrance spread in the room. Carefully at first. A peculiar earthbound vapor. It made people restless.
Leo arrived a few minutes later, and praised the marvelous church. This did not lessen the distinctive smell of earth and salty sea winds. But by then, the altar candles had already sensed the fragrance for a while.
People were reminded of something they had once felt. In the distant past? In early youth? Something that had long lain fallow within the soul?
Still, some nostrils trembled when the tall Russian came too close. Or when Dina’s hair and hands brushed past. Somehow the men could not continue the conversation any longer. They bowed their heads over their coffee cups.
The sheriff absentmindedly inquired about the pastor. The poor man lying upstairs with a cough. The pastor’s wife nodded in bewilderment. This was the second time the sheriff had asked the question. She had told him that the pastor was still feverish and coughing. So no one should go upstairs to visit him. But she was to greet everyone.
This time, she replied tersely, “He’s fine, thank you!” and brushed a tiny speck of dust from her sleeve.
They passed the cookie plate around, again and again. Poured coffee. A mood of sleepy contentment settled on everyone. And between mouthfuls, their noses sniffed the air.
Even if people’s imaginations had been clever enough to identify the smell, they were not bold enough to track down its origin. Simply because it could not exist in good people’s thoughts.
But it was present. It affected appetites. Interrupted conversations unexpectedly, as words stopped for a moment and gazes became blissfully distant. Was a stimulating balm that gently dissolved toward the end of the coffee hour. Only to reappear again in memories, long afterward. As people wondered what had created the marvelously good atmosphere at the parsonage on Christmas Day.
The pastor’s wife also felt the effect. She sniffed the air lightly after the parish flock was well on its way.
What a blessed coffee hour!
She went upstairs to her sick husband. Brought him great comfort, and peace to his soul.
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