Lord, I am enjoying this land you have given me! he thought. I just want to work it and see a harvest.
The harvest truly is plenteous, but the laborers are few . . . Unbidden, those words came to him. Jan felt conviction under the implications of those words.
Ja, Lord, you are right. I do need to spend time with you. Your harvest is more important than my harvest. Ja, I see this.
With the roof complete, the men and Søren set to leveling and packing the house’s dirt floor. They scraped away uneven places and used mallets and rocks to pack the dirt. They then poured water on the dirt and created a mud slurry that they spread evenly across the floor and left to dry.
The house was done but the floor needed to cure for a few days, so the men worked on pens for the animals. For two days they cut and laid sod. Off one side of the soddy they built a chest-high wall that followed the curve of the hillock; Karl built a crude gate across the end of the pen.
That evening Søren spread newly cut prairie grass inside the pen. After he and Jan watered Molly and the oxen at the slough, they led the animals into the pen. Their five beasts had enough room to turn about and to lie down. The sod wall provided them good shelter from the wind.
The oxen could not break out of the pen and, if a wolf or coyote came near, Jan and Elli would be sleeping on the other side of the pen’s wall. They would hear the oxen’s distress.
For the pigs, the men laid a shorter wall, perhaps three feet high, off the other side of the soddy. They built a wall to divide the pen in half and gates for each pen. Next spring after they mated the boar and the sow, the dividing wall would keep the boar away from the sow and her piglets.
Jan reinforced the chickens’ house and placed it at the end of the pigs’ enclosure. He and Søren built a strong coop around the chickens and their house, one that would not so easily be blown down by a storm.
The six surviving chicks, at around eight weeks, were fully feathered and beginning to act and sound like grown chickens. Elli started teaching Kristen and Sigrün how to feed and water the chickens. Later, God willing, they would gather eggs, too.
After days of dedicated labor, the soddy was ready to move into. Jan and Karl hitched the two loaded wagons, put the table and benches on them, and drove the wagons to the soddy.
Jan unpacked Elli’s cookstove and reassembled it. It was a lovely thing, a gift from her parents before Jan and Elli left for America. Elli ran her hands over it, admiring her pretty new stove with its colorful tiled doors and enameled handles.
They placed the stove outside the soddy’s front door. The women would cook outside during the heat of the summer. When the weather cooled, they would bring the stove inside. It would easily heat the two rooms of the soddy/dugout.
Jan placed an empty crate against the soddy and hinged its lid. He placed oilcloth over the lid and tacked the cloth all around the lid so that the edges would drape down the sides. Here the fuel Kristen and Sigrün gathered daily would stay dry.
The men unloaded and opened trunks and crates. The men and the women selected items to keep out and those to be repacked. The women asked Jan and Karl to stack a few of the empty boxes in the kitchen to use as cupboards, as they had seen in Henrik and Abigael’s home.
Karl and Jan unpacked and set up the two iron bedsteads and built simple frames from wooden packing crates for the children’s beds. Elli and Amalie placed the new mattresses stuffed with hay upon the beds and covered them with linens they had brought from home.
Jan whittled pegs and hammered them into the walls wherever asked to. The women unpacked clothes and kitchenware, hanging them on the pegs. Jan hung the two guns from pegs high up on the soddy’s wall next to the door.
Karl brought in a trunk packed with their clothes and placed it in the dugout room. Jan did the same, placing their trunk next to their bed. Then they moved the table and benches into the soddy’s common area.
They had slept in the soddy three nights when another storm rolled through. It was nothing like the one they had survived huddling under the wagons. Still, as they ate a quiet dinner around their table, they felt blessed to be inside, protected from the winds and rain.
When lightning sizzled particularly close to them, Amalie sighed and looked around, comforted. “I didn’t think I could live in a dirt house, but I must be honest. Until I had nowhere to run from a storm except under a wagon, I think I could not appreciate this. Today I am grateful to God for this dirt house.”
~~**~~
Chapter 11
It was nearing the end of summer. Life for the Thoresens had settled into something of a routine. Jan and Karl had planted a few fields and harvested the early corn patch; a second field of corn was ripening quickly. Elli and Amalie were feeding their families from the green garden and canning or drying all they could from its bounty.
Søren milked Molly twice every day. She was a good producer; they drank all the milk they wanted and still shared some with the Andersons; the women made butter and cheese with what was left over.
Abigael had her baby, another boy, and Amalie grew rounder as her pregnancy progressed. A neighbor from farther west, Norvald Bruntrüllsen and his son, Ivan, drove over to make their acquaintance.
“I am sorry we did not come to meet you earlier,” he apologized. “This spring I had decided to break sod on another field. I know you have found how long this takes.”
The men talked crops for an hour. Søren, delighted to see another boy his age, showed Ivan everything the small beginnings of their farm had to offer. Ivan was impressed with their pigs.
The boar was coming into his size, and it was considerable. The sow was not far behind him in weight. In the spring when they were both a year old, the Thoresens would mate them.
“You brought them on the ship, eh? I’ll bet they were a lot smaller then.”
“Oh, ja. Just weaners,” Søren replied. “I could hold them in my arms like big puppies when we left.” They wandered back to listen the men talk.
“Some of the farmers around here have decided to take our corn and wheat to Omaha together,” Norvald was saying. “We can sell our corn to the feedlots there and negotiate a better price for our wheat if we sell it to the eastern buyers at the same time.”
Jan and Karl were keen to hear more.
“We heard you have four oxen and three wagons,” Bruntrüllsen continued, “but perhaps not a big enough harvest this first year to fill all your wagons? If this is so, we were thinking to make you a proposition.”
It was true that Jan and Karl would not have much to send to market this first year. In fact, of every crop they grew, they had to save back some for feed, some for seed, and enough to eat until the next harvest. What remained over and above these needs could go to market. The Thoresens would have little corn and wheat to send this first year.
“Ja, we are listening,” Karl answered.
“We propose that you load what you have into a wagon. We will send responsible men to fetch your teams and wagons. Two of our neighbors have offered to pair their mules to pull your third wagon. The men we send will load your wagons with crops others have grown and haul them to the siding where the train stops for water. We will take your crops to market for you and barter something in return for the use of your oxen and wagons.”
Karl and Jan both became quiet. They would not allow their oxen out of their direct control to men they had just met.
Jan cleared his throat. “Perhaps one of us will come along.” Karl was relieved; Jan had said just the right thing.
Bruntrüllsen nodded. “Good; I said as much to the others. What would you like in return? We thought a calf. A heifer.”
Karl and Jan looked at each other. It was a generous offer. “Ja,” Karl answered. “We agree!”
“Most families are also sending supply lists to Omaha with us,” he told the Thoresens. “We will keep accounts of every man’s crops, how much they sold for, and how much we spend at the grocers and hardware stores to fill his list.”
Norvald showed Jan a small book of lined pages. “Here are last year’s accounts. Only four of us farmers did this last year. They voted to send me to Omaha with the crops. You can see how I managed each man’s account.”
“It is a big job,” Jan noted, appreciating the careful figures under each man’s name. “How many farmers are sending crops this year?”
“Eleven, now that you and your brother have joined us,” Norvald answered. “The farmers voted for me and Klaus Schöener to take the crops this year.”
He smiled. “We may fill two cars this year! I will keep the accounts the same way so that every man may see what he has earned and what we spent for him.”
“Will we not pay you and Klaus for your work for us?” Karl asked.
“Ja; We agreed that whoever takes the crops will split two percent of every man’s earnings. See here,” Norvald pointed to Klaus’ earnings from the previous fall. “Klaus earned $75 last year. I kept $1.50 for taking it to market. Also, we split the cost of the cars and my ticket back.”
Karl and Jan were impressed with the system the farmers were putting together. “This is a good way to do business, Norvald,” they both told him.
Elli and Amalie set to work cutting burlap and stitching bags together for the corn and grain they would send to market. Elli taught Kristen how to seam the coarse, open-weave fabric using a whip stitch.
They decided that Karl would stay on the claims with their families and Jan would drive one of the wagons. Jan would carry a list of items they had carefully made for Norvald and Klaus Schöener to fill. Jan planned to be gone two days.
On the appointed day Karl and Jan had their teams hitched and their crop loaded. The four sacks of corn and six sacks of wheat did not fill even half of one wagon, but it was all they could spare. Norvald and a farmer they did not know, Gunnar Braun, arrived on horseback with a team of mules for the third wagon.
Jan returned two days later with Gunnar and two of the wagons. A week later, Norvald returned their third wagon and brought the supplies they had requested. Behind the wagon he led a late-born calf.
Jan and Karl were pleased with the bargain they had struck and more pleased with their neighbors and the system they had devised to send their crops to market.
“Will you come to church with us?” Norvald asked. “It is a German church and a little strict, but they accept us Swedes.” He shrugged. “Sometimes we don’t understand everything, ja? But it is a good church with good people.
“I will warn you in advance that there are many differences between this German church and what you are accustomed to back home. Still, it is good to sing the hymns and hear God’s word and pray together. I have asked Henrik and Abigael also.”
Jan glanced at Karl. “We should go. We will meet new people and perhaps find out more about the neighborhood. Søren needs to meet other boys. Perhaps we can ask about school.”
Karl looked a little askance. “Is that why we go to church? Just to meet people?” He shook his head dismissively and turned to Norvald. “Ja, we will come.”
Karl did not seem to notice Jan’s clenched jaw and white face, but Norvald glanced between the two brothers. He made his goodbyes and the family drove away.
As soon as their friends were out of earshot, Jan turned on Karl. “Listen to me, brother. You do not correct me in front of our neighbors as if I were a child.” His anger was simmering, rising quickly to the boiling point.
Karl stepped back, surprised that Jan was angry. “What? Are you angry for those few words?”
Perhaps if Karl had stopped there or had apologized, the situation would not have escalated. But he added, “Brother, I would not have spoken like that if you had not said a childish thing!”
Jan’s fist shot out and clipped Karl’s jaw. Karl staggered back, stunned.
“So? Why did you do this, Bror?” He touched his chin, still confounded.
Jan was already walking away, his strides long and angry. He strode past Amalie and Søren, not acknowledging them. They had both witnessed the short yet explosive argument.
Søren ran crying to his mor, unable to understand what he’d seen and terrified by it.
“Jan, you must tell me what you are feeling,” Elli pleaded. “Please.” Jan had fled to the other side of the low rise on which he planned to build their house, where he had stood that first day surveying their land.
It was hard for Jan to speak of his feelings to Elli, to anyone for that matter. But he knew, instinctively, that the anger seething within him was dangerous. It may have been easy to forget about it while he and Karl labored through the summer, but it was clear that the anger was still there.
I know this anger is not pleasing to you, Lord. Jan’s mind and heart were in a tumult of confusing emotions.
“Ach, my love, it seems I am always struggling so with my temper,” he finally muttered.
“Ah.” Elli was quiet for a minute. Then she asked, “Is it your temper that is the real problem?”
Jan rubbed his face. “What do you mean?”
“I know you, ektemann—my husband. You are not often angry, but when you are it is almost always with Karl, not so?”
Jan was silent but his anger shouted yes! within him.
“You and Karl are very different. He is more like your far, serious, maybe even a little cold at times. I think you rub him the wrong way sometimes and I know he rubs you the wrong way sometimes.”
Jan expelled his pent-up breath. “You make it sound simple, but it isn’t. Karl acts as though I live in his home and I am to obey him as we obeyed our far. This is not how it is, and I cannot let him continue acting so.”
Elli nodded. “I know. I have seen it, too. But I think the real problem is that you have never told him how you feel and how it damages your relationship. You must have a good talk with him. Explain to him why you are angry. Explain how things need to change, that he must treat you as an equal, ja? But not while you are angry. The Bible says we are to speak the truth with love, so you must do it when you are calm.”
Jan considered Elli’s advice. “Perhaps you are right. I will pray on it.”
~~**~~
Chapter 12
Their wagon rattled into the yard where the German church met, alongside others who were just arriving. The Thoresens watched families they did not yet know greet each other. They were being scrutinized, too. It was an uncomfortable feeling.
Soberly, the Thoresens climbed down from their wagon. Jan and Karl unhitched the oxen and walked them to an open stand of prairie grass. Together they hobbled the oxen and lifted the yoke from their necks.
Karl was much less comfortable with strangers than Jan. He looked around, sighed, and clamped his mouth shut. They rejoined their wives and children and entered the house.
The church members had added a large room to the house and filled it with narrow wooden benches. The Thoresens counted perhaps fifteen families, but the room was large enough.
Even though Norvald had warned them, the differences between this church meeting and their village church back in Norway were considerable. Elli was disappointed when she saw that the room was divided down the center with the women and children on one side and the men and older boys on the other.
Elli and Amalie and their daughters found seats next to Norvald’s wife, Inge. The Thoresen women nodded pleasantly to the faces staring back at them. Elli felt that soon her face would crack from smiling so much.
The church’s lay minister, Tomas Veicht, was an old man. He did not have much hair but he was possessed of impressive bushy, white brows. When he spoke, his brows wiggled like fat tomato worms.
Søren stared, his mouth agape in amazement until Jan squeezed his leg a little. “It is not polite to stare, Sønn,” he whispered, trying himself not to smile.
Søren wanted desperately to say something to his pappa about the old man’s eyebrows but knew he should not talk in church. After a moment’s struggle, he was able to keep quiet and just looked aro
und. He nodded to Ivan and noticed one or two other boys who were looking as curiously at him as he was at them.
The service began with the minister asking Norvald to introduce his guests. Norvald stood up and, in broken German, gave the people Karl and Jan’s names. Several men reached over to shake Jan and Karl’s hands. Jan nodded to Gunnar Braun and Klaus Schöener and some of the other farmers who had sent crops to Omaha with Norvald. Henrik and Abigael arrived a little late, and Norvald introduced them also.
After a short prayer, the congregation stood and began to sing. Elli noticed that the families owned their own hymnals. The elderly woman standing in front of them wore an old-fashioned kapp. She turned and smiled, offering her hymn book to Elli.
When the woman smiled, Elli could see that her mouth was missing many teeth. Nevertheless, the old woman’s eyes sparkled as she patted Kristen and Sigrün’s hands, her smile growing even larger.
“Heidi,” she whispered. “Ich bin Heidi Veicht.” Her voice was soft and papery. Her chin wagged and quivered when she spoke. “Willkommen.”
“Elli Thoresen,” Elli whispered back. “Amalie Thoresen,” she pointed at her sister-in-law. She thanked the woman and took the book even though she would likely not be able to read or understand many of the words.
Heidi’s kapp bobbed, her smile broadening further, if possible. The woman standing next to Heidi, perhaps her daughter, nudged her. Heidi smiled again and turned back to sing.
A lay elder led the singing. All the songs were slow and reverent, and the voices rose in well-known a cappella harmonies. Elli and Amalie recognized a few of the hymns, but the words were all in German, of course. Occasionally they hummed a little under their breath.
The small congregation sang for more than an hour. After a while, Elli closed her eyes and gave herself over to just listening to the beauty and reverence of the harmonies. When the last song began, slow and stately, Heidi turned around again.
She took her hymnal from Elli and turned to the right page, pointing to the words. Grateful, Elli and Amalie tried their best to sing the unfamiliar words to a most familiar song.
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