Forever My Own

by Tracie Peterson

  Kirstin glanced to the left and started for the dining room. The oak floor was polished to perfection, and despite the only light coming from a lamp on the dining room table, it still gleamed. She passed through the dining room, where they had eaten lunch, and took a moment to glance at the flowered wallpaper and an unlit lamp hanging over the table. Mormor had lit the single lamp on the table, no doubt to give Kirstin enough light by which to navigate, but hadn’t lit the overhead lamp in order to be frugal. That was typical of Kirstin’s family.

  The kitchen came next, and Kirstin smiled at the similarity it held to her mother’s in Sweden. Here there was plenty of light. Mormor had probably been working in here recently, because Kirstin could smell something baking in the oven.

  White cabinets with carved trim attracted her attention. Little hearts and flying bluebirds decorated the edges, just as they did the wooden shutters in her room. No doubt her grandfather had carved and painted them. It brought cheer to the impeccably clean kitchen. There was a huge woodstove and an icebox and a long wooden table, also painted white, on which a person could prepare an entire smörgåsbord. A small table with four chairs sat to the far side by the window. Kirstin could almost imagine her morfar and Uncle Per taking a casual meal there with Mormor.

  From outside the house came laughter. It sounded like Mormor and Mr. Farstad. It hadn’t been hard to see that Mr. Farstad was sweet on her grandmother. The affection that shone in his eyes reminded Kirstin of the way Papa looked at Mama.

  Not wanting them to think she’d been spying on them, she hurried away from the kitchen door and into the lighted living room. A fire burned in the hearth, and Kirstin made her way over to warm herself. The clock on the mantel showed half past five. Goodness, she had slept a very long time.

  The front door opened, and Mormor stepped inside, looking over her shoulder to wave good-bye. “Yes, yes. We’ll be ready. Never fear,” she called. She turned back and spied Kirstin at the fire. “Ah, you’re awake. How did you sleep?”

  Kirstin shrugged. “Given I was in bed for nearly four hours, I would say quite well.”

  Mormor laughed. “Well, good. You’ll be nice and rested so you can tell me all about the folks at home.” She shrugged out of her coat and hung it on a peg. Next she bent to remove her boots. “I’m so glad you were able to rest. A lot of folks find daytime sleeping difficult.” She came to the fire and gave her granddaughter a hug. “It’s so good to have you here.”

  “I’m very happy to be here, Mormor.” Kirstin moved from the fire and took a seat after her grandmother claimed the fireside rocker. “Was that Mr. Farstad?”

  “Ja. He’s a good man.”

  “He seems rather sweet on you.”

  Her grandmother’s eyes twinkled. “Ja, det är sant.”

  “Of course it’s true. I’m glad you aren’t trying to suggest otherwise.”

  Mormor chuckled. “You were always a very observant child.”

  “Well, I’m a child no more.” Kirstin smiled and eased back in her seat. “I thought maybe I’d be the one to find romance in America, but now I see it shall be my grandmother.”

  Mormor chuckled and shook her index finger. “Don’t be so sure. There are many men in Duluth. Mr. Farstad has a son, as you might recall. He’s quite handsome and just the right age to take a wife. I’ve often thought it would be nice to have him in our family.”

  “I do recall he has a son. He has two daughters also. You told us in a letter about them living in Kansas—married to farmers—and Morfar taught Mr. Farstad and his son how to make those small sailboats.”

  Mormor nodded. “The Mackinaw boats. Ja. They used to work all together when the boys were free from their other jobs. Those were happy times.” She seemed to drift off in thought for a moment. “But there will be happy times again now that you’re here.”

  Kirstin noticed a long piece of jute attached to a nail on one side of the wall. It went along the wall to the other side, where it was again tied to a nail. There was some sort of twine hanging from the jute and tied together to make a diamond pattern. “What is that?”

  “I’m making gill nets. I earn my keep by making them for the fishermen. I sell eggs too. Out in the shed I have twenty hens. They are all good layers, except in the winter. The lack of light makes them lazy, so I threaten to eat them.” She laughed and slapped her knee as if she’d just told a great joke. “Habram put in a very small stove to keep them warm in the winter, so I just point to it and tell them they’ll go in the pot if they don’t lay eggs.” She looked at the net on the wall. “The gill nets are something I learned to do after I arrived here.”

  “What do the fishermen do with these particular nets?”

  “They set them in the water and catch whitefish or herring, depending on how big I make the holes.”

  Kirstin perked up. “I forgot you have herring in the lake. How wonderful. We can pickle and can it.”

  “Ja. We’ll have some for breakfast tomorrow.”

  “It’ll be just like being home.”

  “This is your home now. You are welcome to do what you like with your room, and if you want to change something in the house, just talk to me.”

  “No, the house seems perfect. Like a Swedish cottage. You even have the steep roof and traditional trim. I’d love to get a tour and see it all, when you have time.”

  “We can do that right now.” Mormor got to her feet. “Come, I’ll show you all there is. Even the chickens.”

  They toured the house with Mormor pointing out little things of interest. When they reached the bedroom she had once shared with her husband, she stepped aside. “You see that bed? Your morfar made it for me when we came to America.”

  Kirstin admired the four-poster bed. Mormor hadn’t put up a canopy but rather left the bed open. “Don’t you get cold without the curtains?”

  “Sometimes I use them in the winter, but I forgot to put them up this year, so I just added more covers.” Mormor smiled and ran her hand down the pine post. “Sometimes when it turned cold before we got the curtains up, your morfar would pile on the covers so that I could hardly move. I told him to stop or I wouldn’t be able to get out of bed. He said that was the way he liked it. He thought we should stay cuddled up all winter.”

  Kirstin giggled. “That’s a rather risqué thing to tell your granddaughter.”

  Mormor shrugged. “I suppose it’s all in how you take it. He was a good man to me and always showed me such love. You should remember that we were a love match. We did not marry because of convenience or necessity. We fell in love in school, and that love only grew stronger through the years. He was a good husband and provider.”

  “I’m sure he was, Mormor. I loved Morfar very much. He was so much fun. He would play with us children and always brought us sweets to eat.”

  “And he loved God. That saw us through both hard times and good. He used to spend time every night before bed in prayer. I did too. Prayer is so important, Kirstin. Always remember to pray.”

  “I do, Mormor. I love God very much. Mama used to tell me that God should come first before anyone else—even our husbands. She said if we put God first, our husband’s place coming next would be just right, because you want a husband who works hand in hand with God.”

  “Ja. I taught her that.”

  Kirstin smiled. “I know. She told me. And your mama taught it to you.”

  “And no doubt her mama taught her. It’s good for a family to put their trust in God. Always remember that, Kirstin. No matter what else you say or do, God must come first.”

  Mormor continued the tour by showing Kirstin a sewing room that also doubled as the laundry room in the winter and a bathing room when baths were needed.

  “We’ll get the tub out and prepare lots of hot water for you to take a bath after supper.”

  “That sounds wonderful.” Kirstin followed her into the hall.

  “This is the linen closet. I keep all the bedding and towels here. Your morfar built it right
into the wall so that it would be convenient for everyone to use.”

  “That was very smart.”

  “And this was Per’s room,” Mormor declared, opening the final door.

  Kirstin stepped into the decidedly masculine room. “But I thought his room was upstairs. The room I’m not using.”

  “No, this one was his.” Mormor offered no explanation of the room upstairs. “He liked to stay close to us in case of trouble. In the early days there were problems occasionally. He and Morfar always kept a loaded gun handy. I’m sure Mr. Farstad could tell you all about it sometime, if you ask.”

  Kirstin nodded, but what she wanted to ask about was the room upstairs.

  Chapter 2

  A few days later, after a wonderful breakfast of pickled herring, boiled eggs, and rusks and butter, Mormor told Kirstin it was time for her to learn how to make the gill nets. Kirstin followed her grandmother to the living room, where Mormor had laid out the jute rope and twine.

  “I have three orders, and all are pretty big. We’ll make them in sections, and then the men can attach them to their net stands.” She put all her things in order, then smiled. “You can see the net I’ve been working on.”

  “Ja.” Kirstin surveyed the piece hanging on the wall.

  “I have nails where I can secure the head rope. We tie it up like this.” Mormor took a long piece of sturdy jute and attached it to one nail and then to another midway down the wall. “The net will come down from this.”

  Kirstin watched as her grandmother picked up the twine and cut a piece about eight feet long.

  “I cut a few of these, but you need to learn how to do this too. I like to use pieces about this long, but you can cut them different lengths if you prefer,” Mormor said, holding up the pale-colored twine. “Fold it in half, then, with the top where it’s folded, you’ll attach it to the head rope like this.”

  Kirstin watched as Mormor took the looped top and put it behind the head rope. Then she drew both strands through the loop and pulled them through. “This is a cow hitch and secures the strands to the head rope. You put up as many as you need for however tall you want to make the net. You can always add on. It’s easy enough to do. I like to make them about five feet high at a time and then add to them depending on the order and the total length the fisherman wants it.”

  Together Mormor and Kirstin put up the strands. It seemed to take quite a bit of time just cutting the pieces the same length, but finally Kirstin got them done and attached to the new head rope.

  “Now comes the fun,” Mormor declared. “You’re going to make triangles and diamonds.” She took hold of the first length of twine. “We don’t do anything with this first strand, not yet anyway. You take the second and third strands and gauge how big you want your triangles by how close you have your cow-hitched pieces apart. This net will be for whitefish, so we’ll put the strands about two inches apart. Then you knot the second and third strands together like this.”

  Mormor showed Kirstin how to tie the pieces and snug them down to make the right size. That seemed simple enough. Mormor then took the next two strands and tied them together, then continued down the line in rapid succession. When she finished, there was a row of triangles all along the head rope.

  “For the next line you can now take that first strand and the second and do the same. Then third and fourth, and so on down the line.” She went to work, and Kirstin could see how quickly the diamond shapes were formed.

  “That’s all there is to it.” Mormor reached the end of the strands and stood back. “Do you think you can manage?”

  “I do. It’s much simpler than I thought. How marvelous. I can help you make these for sale.”

  “Between that and the eggs, I get by just fine. Folks in our neighborhood here on the river are good. We take care of one another. We women can food and quilt together, and most of the men work the lake and are good to bring the widows fish and sometimes other meats.”

  As if to prove her point, someone knocked at the door.

  It turned out to be Mr. Farstad. Kirstin wasn’t surprised. He extended a brown paper–wrapped package and grinned.

  “Vad är det?” Mormor appraised the package.

  “A pork roast. I traded for it at Johnsson’s farm. I thought we might enjoy it tomorrow.”

  Mormor looked at Kirstin. “We usually take our meals together since we are both alone.”

  “But what about Mr. Farstad’s son?” Kirstin had been curious about Mr. Farstad’s son since her arrival.

  “My Ilian works at the same lumber camp as—” Mr. Farstad stopped abruptly and cleared his throat. “He works with his friends up north about thirty miles from town. He lives at the camp, as the lumbermen do. So I am alone usually, and your grandmother kindly cooks for me.”

  “And Mr. Farstad often brings me things to cook for us.”

  “Ja, but tonight is special. Tonight, we do not work. We are going to a restaurant where they will do the cooking and the cleaning up. Your grandmother agreed to it yesterday, and I made all the arrangements. It’s my treat.” He grinned from ear to ear. “We will eat there at five thirty. It’s called the Brewery because they make beer there as well.” He turned back to the door. “I gotta go now. I have work to do even if we can’t run the dredger. We got repairs to make.”

  “Why can’t you run the dredger?” Kirstin asked.

  Mr. Farstad chuckled. “The ground, it is frozen solid. We had to stop working on our canal because it was too hard to dig, and the water, it is frozen. Makes it too hard on the equipment. But we’ll get that canal built, by golly.”

  Kirstin shook her head. “What canal?”

  “Oh sure, you wouldn’t know too much about that. We are making a canal so that the ships can come straight into Duluth without having to first go past Superior, Wisconsin,” Mr. Farstad said.

  Mormor nodded. “The town has been fighting with those folks in Superior. They don’t want us to have our own way in from the lake. They think it will cause problems for the bay and the breakwaters. They think they’re superior.” She laughed at her joke.

  “All these words I don’t understand.” Kirstin switched to Swedish and put her hand to her head. “I thought my English was good, but apparently I have a lot to learn. What is breakwater?”

  “You’re doing just fine,” Mr. Farstad declared. “You just keep asking, and we will teach you. The army came and built some breakwaters—sort of like walls in the water—to protect the coast and the harbor. Some have been destroyed, though, because Lake Superior is a fierce beast at times.”

  “And Superior, Wisconsin,” Mormor added, “doesn’t want us to succeed. They didn’t want Duluth to get the railroad, and now they don’t want us having a ship canal for direct access into our own harbor.”

  “Well, that hardly seems right,” Kirstin replied.

  “That’s the way we all feel. Folks ought to be able to do with their own land what they want.” Mormor nodded at Mr. Farstad. “Thanks, Habram, for the roast. We’ll enjoy it for sure tomorrow.”

  “I already checked, and Mr. Bemford said we can use his carriage and horse. I’ll come by for you at five fifteen. It’s pretty cold out there, so you’d better dress warm.” He headed for the door. “I might be back early, Miss Kirstin, and if I am, I can show you the boat I’m working on.”

  “A Mackinaw boat?” she asked.

  “Ja. Just like your morfar used to make.”

  “I would love to see it.” Kirstin remembered letters Mormor had written detailing what Morfar was doing with his latest boat. It would be fun to have Mr. Farstad show her one.

  Mormor saw him out and put the roast in the icebox before settling back to work on the nets. Kirstin could see a gleam in her grandmother’s eyes that only seemed to appear when Mr. Farstad was around.

  “He’s a good man, ja?”

  Kirstin’s grandmother gave a nod and began knotting strands of twine. “Ja, he’s a good one, to be sure.” She changed the subject. �
��Tell me about everyone at home. How is your little sister, Brita?”

  “Brita was great when I left, although she was sad that I was going. We are pretty close despite the years between us. She’s just starting to like boys and would ask me for advice.”

  “And you would give it.”

  “Of course. That’s what God has given me to do—give advice and fix problems.” Kirstin smiled. “I know more than most, not because of experience, but because of following the Bible. I try to listen to people rather than talk all the time. You taught me that, Mormor.”

  “And it has made you pretty wise. Your mor, she writes all the time about how you manage people like so many sheep. Always trying to steer them down the right path. I think maybe people have been hard on you for being so smart, ja?”

  “Sometimes.” Kirstin shrugged. “They mostly misunderstand my reasons. They think me nosy or bossy, but in truth I just like order and sensible decisions.”

  “What of emotions and romance?” Mormor asked with a glint in her eye. “How is it that you aren’t married? What was wrong with those boys?”

  “Some wanted to marry, but I did not want them.” Kirstin smiled and worked on her knots. “Mama always told me I’d know the right one when he came along, but none of them were right, as far as I could tell. Most of them were too concerned with their own plans to hear what I might like, and most didn’t care a fig about God and church. They drank too much and swore too often.”

  “Well, your mor is right. You’ll know the right one when he comes along, but just remember not to be too proud. If God has given you wisdom, that is good, ja. But you must be careful not to offend with your confidence. Some people . . . they cannot understand this confidence. Especially in one so young.”