Andrew nodded and bit his lip, his eyes wide as he glanced at one of the windows.
The dog whined and snaked his way into Andrew’s lap, giving the boy a quick kiss on the chin.
The house shuddered with another onslaught from the waves that splashed up on the windows, black and gray.
‘‘Don’t worry about the windows, son. The waves are hitting the roof instead of the glass. Good thing we set the house at the angle we did.’’ Haakan patted Andrew on the shoulder. The glance he sent his wife let her know how deep his gratitude ran.
She nodded in return and continued with her hemming. ‘‘And so we continue to pray. We have our very lives to be thankful for and so much else.’’ She hoped she sounded more certain than she felt.
God, help us. Keep our windows safe from debris and from the terrible waves. Ingeborg hid her fears by laying her cheek on Astrid’s head. ‘‘Come, let us sing.’’
So they sang hymns, then ‘‘Yankee Doodle,’’ ‘‘Red River Valley,’’ and a song about the Shenandoah River, although Ingeborg wondered if that one was appropriate considering their river was causing all the problems. When they ran out of songs, they played hide the thimble and button, button, who’s got the button, along with guessing games and Bible quizzes. They worked on spelling words and arithmetic, and everyone took turns reading when one person’s voice gave out.
‘‘Tell us a story, Mor,’’ Astrid asked. So Ingeborg told them of the early days when they came to Dakota Territory; of the time Andrew got lost in the high grass and Wolf saved him; of hunting and fishing when the game was so abundant; of starting the school with Tante Kaaren teaching all the children.
And when Ingeborg played out, Haakan took over with tales of felling timber in the north woods of Minnesota and his travels as a young man in a new land.
Haakan and Andrew even carded wool after Astrid gave them a refresher lesson. Ingeborg spun it, and both she and Astrid kept their knitting needles clicking and the sewing machine singing.
When the wind finally died down and the house was still standing firm, they cheered and sang praises.
Men came by in boats to check on the farmers, but the Bjorklunds stayed safe in their upstairs like most of the others, visiting with the boaters through the windows and sending the men on their way to those who really needed help.
‘‘I have to go home.’’ Thorliff stood in front of President Mohn’s desk at St. Olaf College. ‘‘You’ve read of the floods in North Dakota?’’
‘‘I have, but what can you do?’’
‘‘Help clean up the mess. I’m sorry, sir, but my family needs me.’’
‘‘How long will you be gone?’’
‘‘I don’t know. I just know I have to go.’’
‘‘How will you get there? The trains aren’t crossing the Red River.’’
‘‘I’ll have to find a boat. Perhaps it will have begun to recede before I get there. We’ve never seen such flooding since we settled there in the valley.’’
‘‘That’s what I’ve heard. I cannot promise that you will graduate if you take this time off. I will have to discuss this with the board.’’
‘‘I understand.’’ Thorliff fought to keep his feet from carrying him out without permission.
‘‘Do what you must, and God keep you. Don’t do anything foolish. You can’t help your family if you drown or something.’’
‘‘I know. Thank you, sir.’’ Thorliff gathered his books, let Mr. Ingermanson know he was leaving, and trotted down the hill. Perhaps for the last time. By the time he reached the newspaper office, he had a hard time catching his breath as he pushed open the front door, setting the bell to jingling.
‘‘You are here early.’’ Phillip glanced at the clock on the wall. ‘‘Are you all right?’’
Thorliff nodded and sucked in a deep breath. ‘‘I got permission from Reverend Mohn to go home. He tried to talk me out of it, but I have to be there.’’ He raked long fingers through his hair, standing it on end.
‘‘But, Thorliff, what will you be able to do?’’ Phillip leaned forward in his chair.
‘‘I just feel I have to be there. What good can I do them here?’’
‘‘If you stay here, they won’t have to worry about you.’’
‘‘They won’t know I’m coming. There is no communication without boats. I’m sure our rowboat went sailing down the river at the first surge.’’
‘‘Then how will—’’
‘‘I will find a boat in Grand Forks.’’
‘‘Thorliff, I think you are cockeyed crazy. Wait until the river goes down and then go. That’s when you will be able to help.’’ Phillip threw his hands in the air. ‘‘All right. I see nothing I say will change your mind.’’ He rose. ‘‘Do you have enough money?’’
‘‘Yes. Thank you.’’
‘‘You’ll take the morning train tomorrow?’’
‘‘Yes. I missed today’s.’’
‘‘Mohn is right. You should stay until—’’
‘‘I can’t.’’ Thorliff reached across the desk to shake his friend and employer’s hand. ‘‘I’ll be back as soon as I can.’’ I hope.
CHAPTER THIRTY
The train stopped at Glyndon, Minnesota.
‘‘Sorry, son, we can’t go any farther. There’s water over the track, and a train is already waiting ahead of us.’’ The conductor shrugged as he pointed out the window. ‘‘Can’t see it from here, but once you step outside . . .’’ He shook his head. ‘‘Never seen it so bad before.’’
‘‘How long will we be stopped here?’’
‘‘I don’t know. You can stay on board or go into town. As soon as the water recedes, we’ll go on. ’Course they have to check the tracks first to make sure they aren’t washed out or anything.’’ The conductor continued on, making his announcement as he went along.
Thorliff stared out the window. From what he could see, the small hills showed green grass already shooting up, even though piles of snow still skirted the buildings where it had slid off roofs. But when he stepped off the train, he could see that muddy water covered the land ahead. The conductor hadn’t exaggerated. Thor-liff swung back up on the train and took out a textbook to study for the final exams he might never be taking. When he’d read the page three times and still had no idea what he’d been reading, he stared out the window. Had he acted in haste and run ahead of what God planned for him to do? He thought back to his decision to leave school. Had he prayed?
Of course I did, he firmly answered the questions in his head. But doubt loomed like the water ahead of them. I prayed, all right, but was it for my family or for my decision to come now? Would God have me sitting on this train for a reason, or is this my own fault? He could hear Reverend Mohn’s question regarding the same. He’d been so sure he was doing the right thing. Yes, they needed him at home. Or would need him when he could get there. Calling himself all kinds of names, none of which were complimentary, he forced himself back to his textbook. Were there any trains running east from North Dakota? Of course not. They were stopped on the other side of the flood.
When darkness fell, he ate the last of the food Cook had packed for him and settled down for a long night. The conductor came by with blankets for those who’d chosen to remain on the train, and cushioning his head on his rolled-up coat, Thorliff fell into a restless slumber that wasn’t much better than being awake.
Somewhere in the night he woke, thinking he heard Elizabeth calling his name. He snapped upright and then slumped back. He was not in Northfield. He was trapped on a train going nowhere. Pounding his fist on the wall seemed an appropriate response, but instead he slammed the seat and settled back down. If only he had asked Elizabeth to come with him. He hadn’t written to her to inquire, because he wasn’t sure how she would feel about making the long trip from Chicago. If people start getting sick, I’ll send her a letter immediately. With that thought solid in his mind, he closed his eyes and willed himself back to sleep. He�
��d be no good for helping anyone if he didn’t sleep.
In the morning he bought coffee and food in the dining car, hating to spend the money but knowing that he’d brought this on himself. He walked the streets of the small town in a slight drizzle, casting longing looks toward Blessing. As deep as the water was, where was his family? Were they safe? Would the house and barn stand against a flood of this magnitude?
Lord, forgive me for running ahead of you. When will I learn? But please, you are keeping them safe, aren’t you? The conversation, although seeming one-sided, brought him comfort. He swung back up into the car where he’d left his satchel and settled back into his studies. Whenever the worries about home and family grew too loud to ignore, he took out his Bible and read again how God cared for the Israelites as they wandered in the wilderness. At the moment he had a fair idea how they must have felt.
A cheer broke out when the conductor came through the second day and announced they were checking the tracks to make sure the route to Grand Forks was clear. Trains would not be able to cross the bridge into Fargo yet, but the tracks heading north were water free.
Thank you, heavenly Father. Now get me to Blessing, please.
Getting to Grand Forks was easier than getting out of Grand Forks and on to Blessing. No one had a boat. All those that hadn’t been carried off in the flood were being used in rescues on the swollen river. Much of Grand Forks was still under water, leaving Thorliff no place to stay. When he contacted one of the Lutheran pastors in town, the man invited him to share a room at the home of a member of his congregation who lived beyond the flood line.
‘‘I should have stayed in Northfield until the trains were running again.’’ Thorliff shook his head.
‘‘Hindsight is always perfect,’’ Pastor Ness said with a smile. ‘‘I know your father through Pastor Solberg. He speaks highly of all of you, and now I get to meet his prize pupil.’’
‘‘Not much of a prize but eternally grateful for all he has done for me. Have you heard anything about the folks at Blessing?’’
‘‘Sorry, not a word, but the waters are receding rapidly, so perhaps tomorrow the train will run again. The tracks are high enough above the ground that they dry out more quickly than the rest of the land.’’
While it took two more days before the train ran across the river and north, Thorliff had never been so happy to see anything as the bedraggled town of Blessing. Mud covered the walls and roofs of all but the two-story houses and barns. Soddies lay in heaps of rubble.
‘‘Thorliff!’’ Penny shouted his name as she ran to throw her arms around him. ‘‘Oh, they will be so happy to see you!’’
‘‘Everyone is all right?’’ Thorliff hugged her back and, glancing around, shook his head. ‘‘Where did you stay?’’
‘‘At the boardinghouse. Bridget took in any who needed help. We had a regular party up there.’’ She rolled her eyes, telling him the time hadn’t been all fun. ‘‘But we are safe and cleaning up to start over. That is all that counts. Livestock lost but not one man, woman, or child. Although I hear some are falling sick now that the flood is gone.’’
‘‘I need to get on home. Any chance the telephone lines have come to Blessing yet?’’
‘‘No, but the telegraph is working again. Grand Forks has telephones though, so who knows, perhaps one of these days we’ll have all kinds of newfangled gadgets here too.’’
‘‘I hope so. They are real handy. Will you be able to save anything from your store?’’
‘‘Some, I’m sure. Canned goods and things in glass or tins. Some things we’ll be able to clean up, like boots and perhaps materials if I can wash the mud out. One thing about our rich river mud, it stains like permanent dye. I got the kitchen stove cleaned out and working though so we can cook the food we can find. Thanks be to God that we canned so much last summer.’’
Thorliff nodded and kept from shifting from one foot to the other with an act of will and his mother’s insistence on good manners.
‘‘I know you want to get going out there. If you walk fast enough, you might not sink in past your ankles.’’ She patted his arm. ‘‘Sure good to see you.’’
‘‘Ja, God bless.’’ Thorliff headed out, his coat folded over his shoulder since the sun seemed to be trying to make up for lost time in drying the land. Several times he slipped and slid, barely keeping upright. Every so often he leaned against a friendly fence post to scrape the pounds of mud from his boots, gray black mud and grasses hanging from fence wires and piled around the bottom of posts mute testimony to the recent submersion. Trees wore dresses of gray black, pitch cleansing the wounds of missing branches as spring leaves forced their way through the coating.
The stench of putrid death rose like the steam from puddles. Instead of the verdant fragrance of spring, rotting carcasses stank in the fields to feed crows and other scavengers.
Silence, other than the slop of his feet as he strode the once leveled lane, lay across the land. Ahead he could see the black mud line above the windows on their house and up on the roof of the barn. But at least the buildings were standing and people were working. The joy of that brought tears to the back of his throat. ‘‘Thank you, Father, thank you. I have a family still, and I was right in that they need me.’’ If he could have run, he would have, but instead he scraped the mud off again and plowed forward.
A dog barking brought everyone’s attention to see him coming.
‘‘Thorliff!’’ Astrid dropped the broom she was using to clean the mud off the house and tore across the yard, the dog running and barking along with her. ‘‘You came!’’ But when she tried to stop her feet slipped in the mud, and without Thorliff’s grabbing her, she would have slid right into him. She wrapped both arms around his middle and clung like lichen on the sides of the trees. ‘‘I’m making you all messy,’’ she muttered into his chest.
‘‘Who cares.’’ Thorliff hugged her and grinned at the others running to meet him. ‘‘Careful, I can’t catch everyone at once.’’ Barney danced around Thorliff, barking and half growling, not sure if he should know this person or not.
Ingeborg hugged both Thorliff and Astrid, who still had not let go, with Andrew clinging right behind her. ‘‘What are you doing here? You’re not out of school yet.’’
Thorliff leaned back to look in his mother’s face. ‘‘I had to know if you were still alive.’’
At his words, Astrid burst into tears and tightened her grip on his waist. Thorliff fought the burning in his own eyes, and the tears streaming down his mother’s face almost undid him.
‘‘Thanks be to God, no one drowned in Blessing.’’ Haakan clapped his arm around Thorliff’s shoulders and the other around Andrew so that they formed a circle with Astrid safe in the middle.
‘‘Hush, Barney.’’ Andrew’s voice broke as he commanded the dog. ‘‘This is Thorliff, and he is family.’’
Yes, thank God, we are still family. All of us together. Thorliff recognized the new crevasses on his father’s face. Worry did that to a man. ‘‘It was bad?’’
‘‘Terrible. Still is. But we are alive, and eventually we will plant crops as usual. We still have the teams. I sent them west along with the dry and young stock, so we have something to begin with again.’’
Thorliff listened to the words and realized the loss behind them. There’d been no mention of the milking herd.
‘‘The water came up so fast in the middle of the night, there was no time to escape. Barney woke us up with his barking. If it hadn’t been for him, we’d have lost more of the household things. As it is, there is a lot to clean.’’ Ingeborg hugged him again. ‘‘I have never been so happy to see anyone in my entire life.’’
Thorliff looked over her head to his father. Haakan stood, his normally straight shoulders now rounded forward as if the burden were so heavy he could no longer stand straight. Was there something besides the flood? ‘‘Far, are you all right?’’
Haakan gave an almost imperceptib
le shake of his head with a slight glance toward the barn. Cow carcasses littered the area in front of the open barn door. Thorliff fought the gagging in his throat.
‘‘What are you going to do?’’
‘‘Burn them. Can’t dig a hole deep enough. It fills with water fast as we can dig, and I got to get the barn cleaned out. Kerosene will work, soon as I get enough. Drying wood too, so we can use that.’’
‘‘My chickens died too.’’ Astrid looked toward where the hen house used to be.
‘‘Looks like I should have brought chickens and pigs and—’’
‘‘Grain to feed them. Heard tell some farmers west of here are shipping hay and grain from what they have left to help us out. All our stock is still over to Solbergs’. Pastor ran some up in his haymow, and the rest made it through on a haystack. Good thing we had plenty of hay last year. It’s saving us now.’’
Ingeborg took his hand. ‘‘Come, you must be hungry. Soup is ready, and I baked the first bread just this morning.’’
The smell of mud and wet wood didn’t stop them from eating and talking around mouths full of food. ‘‘I need to go check on Sam’s family this afternoon,’’ Ingeborg said after refilling the coffee cups. ‘‘And the Valderses. They are both down with terrible vomiting and the runs. I have so little to offer. I just don’t know what to do for them.’’
‘‘Perhaps Elizabeth will come. And bring medical supplies.’’
Ingeborg stopped by the newly scrubbed stove. ‘‘That would be a godsend but a lot to ask. Even if she could just tell me what to do.’’
‘‘I’ll get a letter ready later, and you can mail it when you are at the store.’’ Thorliff said. ‘‘I believe she will want to come.’’
After dinner Thorliff wrapped a bandanna dipped in vinegar around his nose and mouth like Haakan did, and the two headed out to the barn. The stench overwhelmed even the vinegar smell, but he kept his meal in place in spite of a bout of gagging. They wrapped chains around the cows’ legs, then hitched the horses to the chains to drag out the bodies.
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