No Distance Too Far

by Lauraine Snelling

  Astrid studied him, recognizing the same things she had the day before. He looked pale, shaky. How do you walk up to one of your teachers and ask, “Sir, how are you feeling? Are you sure you are all right?”

  Instead, she stopped beside him and asked in a low voice, “Have you talked to your doctor lately?”

  He whipped around and stared at her. “No. Why do you say that?”

  Now he thinks I’m a fool. “Just some things I noticed. I . . . I think it might be a good idea.”

  “I see. I will take that under advisement. And now let’s begin our class.”

  Astrid took her seat and glanced around. Dr. Gansberg and his wife weren’t there. She shook her head. She’d like to have talked this over with the doctor to see if he noticed what she did. Maybe she was making this up, seeing goblins where there were none.

  Halfway through the class Rev. Thompkins took a step forward, seemed to stumble, and then slumped to the floor.

  Astrid was on her feet and at his side before any of the others shook off their shock and began to move. She loosened his necktie and checked his pulse. “Get a stretcher in here now.”

  Two of the men jumped to do what she said.

  Rev. Thompkins was turning whiter, if that were possible. Astrid put her fingers on his carotid artery. Irregular. He was cold too. Was he bleeding internally? Heart? Stroke? God, help me. His circulation must have stopped somehow.

  She began to massage the left side of his chest, and a little color crept into his face. But she could tell his body was in shock. She glanced around the room to see if there was anything she could use. “Bring me his coat from the coatrack,” she ordered, “and any other coats or sweaters. Put a stack of books under his feet and legs.”

  A sweater was offered to her, and after rolling it and placing it behind his neck, she spread his coat over him, adding other jackets as the men shared theirs.

  “I called the infirmary. They have a bed ready for him,” Peter said at her shoulder.

  “I think they will need to send an ambulance. But have someone search for Dr. Gansberg. And I need a stethoscope.”

  “Where can I get one?”

  “Infirmary.”

  He charged out to do her bidding. The men returned with the stretcher and laid it on the floor.

  Astrid stood. “Okay, you take his feet,” she instructed, “and you take his shoulders. Lift him carefully on three and lay him on the stretcher.” She counted, and they got him moved. She tucked his hands in at his sides. “Now let’s have four people, one on each corner, and we’ll carry him as quickly as possible to the infirmary.”

  They did so, meeting Dr. Gansberg coming down the hall. He turned, pulling a stethoscope out of his pocket as they continued. He put the ends in his ears and the chest piece inside the reverend’s shirt.

  “Stop for a moment,” Astrid ordered. The bearers did.

  “Let’s go again,” Dr. Gansberg said. “His heart is skipping beats.”

  Astrid held the doors open so they could enter, and the school nurse led the way toward a bed with the covers folded at the bottom.

  “What happened?” Dr. Gansberg asked. Astrid told him, keeping her eye on Rev. Thompkins.

  “I said they should call the ambulance.”

  “You are right. Did they?”

  “The ambulance is coming down the street,” one of the stretcher bearers said from the window. “Should we take him out to the door right now?”

  “Yes.”

  With Rev. Thompkins tucked into the ambulance and Dr. Gans–berg in with him, Astrid stepped back.

  “No, you come too,” the doctor said. “You were the first to see his symptoms.”

  “We’re ready. Do you want to meet us at the hospital?” one of the ambulance men asked. “Or come now?”

  Astrid climbed into the ambulance and took one of her teacher’s hands in hers. Lord God, you know what is going on. Thank you that we could be here for him and that you can heal him. Please, Lord, this man does so much for all of his students. Let us keep him here.

  THE NEXT MORNING Dean Highsmith entered the breakfast room. “I have an announcement,” he said as the room quieted down. “Rev. Thompkins is stabilized and recovering due to the quick response of our own Dr. Bjorklund. Thank you for being observant and knowing what to do.” He nodded to her and began clapping. The others joined in. Astrid wished she could stop the blush she could feel burning her face.

  Thank you, Father, had been her offering all night, once she heard he was breathing better and his heart had resumed its normal beat.

  After breakfast she went to the front desk, purchased stamps, and put her letters in the outgoing mail. She paused, trying again to understand all the implications of this decision. How would her family cope with the news? She thanked the woman at the desk and turned to go to her first class.

  Dean Highsmith caught her going by his office. “Dr. Bjorklund, a telephone call just came for you. You can talk here in my office.”

  Her heart in her throat, Astrid picked up the dangling earpiece. “Hello.”

  “Astrid, this is Thorliff. You must come home immediately. Elizabeth might be losing this baby, and Mor said we desperately need you here. We have to save Elizabeth.”

  She composed herself enough to ask several questions about Elizabeth’s condition.

  “I’ll catch the next train.”

  She hung up and turned to face the dean. “I have to go home right away. There is a family emergency with my sister-in-law, Dr. Elizabeth.”

  “I’ll have Marlin call the train station and find out when the next train leaves.” He turned to confer with his secretary.

  While she lifted the phone, the dean took Astrid’s hands in his. They were warm and strong. “Dr. Bjorklund, the words I spoke to you yesterday are the same today. God triumphs. He brought you here for His purposes. Wherever that leads.”

  16

  BLESSING, NORTH DAKOTA

  Ingeborg, you cannot keep up this pace.”

  She stared at her husband through eyes that felt as scratchy as a day-old mosquito bite. With a deep sigh she said, “What else am I to do? Tell everyone not to get sick, not to have any accidents, and above all, not to birth any more babies?” She’d just come home from being all night with one of the newer families south of town. While the baby had been slow to come, he’d entered the world with a healthy yell. Sometimes that was the way with first babies.

  “They could have brought her to you at Thorliff’s so you didn’t have to travel so far.”

  She smiled up at him and leaned against his side, the chair she was sitting on creaking resentment at her movement. “And who was it that drove me out there and slept the night on their floor so he could drive me home after the grand arrival?”

  “Well, at least I slept.” Haakan stroked her hair with a callused hand. “I thought those days and nights of doctoring were over for you.”

  “They would be if Elizabeth hadn’t gone and gotten pregnant again. For all she loves caring for others, her own body seems to betray her in this matter of having a baby.” She looked up at Haakan again and whispered, “I am so afraid we are going to lose her. Then how will we manage with Astrid in Africa . . . and Thorliff . . .” She shook her head. “He will have a terrible time with this.”

  “Aren’t you borrowing trouble? Like you say to never do?” He moved his fingers to rubbing her neck, digging deep with his thumbs in the tender spots.

  “Ja, I guess I am, and I do know better. I thank God that He has a plan and that He is indeed in control.”

  “I hear a but in there.”

  She groaned with relief as his hands kept up their healing work. “But when I get so tired, those sick and frightening thoughts sneak in, and before I know it, they’ve taken up housekeeping.”

  “Right now you are going to your bed to sleep until you wake. I will take Freda to town to watch over Elizabeth, and we will post a sign that the surgery is closed for the day. Only if there is an em
ergency where life is being threatened will I let them call you.”

  “I should sleep at Elizabeth’s.”

  “You will stay right here.”

  “Between Freda and Thelma, Elizabeth will stay in bed and sleep.” Please, Lord God, let it be so. I am so tired. She followed Haakan to the bedroom and sank down on the edge of the bed.

  He turned back the covers and knelt to unlace her shoes. He pulled them off carefully, rubbing her feet for a moment. When he looked up, she was half asleep but aware of his ministrations. He tipped her over on her side, lifted her legs, and tucked them under the sheet and light blanket. With each motion he touched her gently, his fingers lingering to soothe away the lines dug into her forehead. With the cover around her shoulders, he leaned over, kissed her forehead, and paused a moment with his hand on her shoulder.

  When he left the room, he closed the door with a subtle snick.

  Hours later, Ingeborg could no longer ignore the need to relieve herself, so she sat up and swung her feet to the floor. She’d slept so deeply that she hardly remembered crawling into bed. Haakan had been at work for sure. Grateful anew for the bathroom the men had installed over the winter, she washed her hands and face afterward and smoothed the flyaway strands of hair back with still-damp fingers. The house was quiet. Where was Emmy? Did Freda take her with her?

  No one in the kitchen, but a pot was simmering on the back of the stove. Catching back a yawn, she stared out the screen door. No one on the porch. From the angle of the sun it was now late afternoon. Where was everyone?

  Her big orange and white cat joined her at the door and chirped her request for the door to be opened. Ingeborg complied and followed her outside. The wondrous smell of growing spring wafted by on the breeze. A robin swooped with one of the bits of yarn she’d knotted loosely on a nail on a porch post and took it up in the cottonwood tree to add to her nest. The mister followed close behind, blue yarn in his beak.

  Hearing a child laugh, she looked out across the field to see Ellie striding the path, Carl and Emmy running and laughing before her. That answered the question of where Emmy was. Ellie had fifteen-month-old baby May in a sling on her back and her sunbonnet shielding her face.

  Emmy looked up as if drawn by an invisible string. Her “Gamma’s up” echoed across the field, and she took off running, leaving two-and- a-half-year-old Carl behind to run as fast as he could. He could not keep up with the girls yet, much to his disgust.

  “Gamma! Gamma! We baked cookies.” Emmy was swinging a tin pail, which no doubt contained her treasures. When she got to Ingeborg, she threw her arms around her legs and hugged as if she’d been gone for days rather than hours. Looking upward, her brow wrinkled. “You sick?”

  Ingeborg leaned down to return the hug. “Not sick, just tired.”

  “Bad tired, huh? Grampa said be quiet, very quiet. So we went to Carl’s house.”

  “Where is Grampa now?”

  The little girl shrugged and looked around as if he would pop out from behind the tree trunk. “Don’t know. Freda gone to Inga’s.”

  Ellie opened the gate, and Carl dashed through. “Gamma, you good now?”

  “He thought you’d been sent to bed because you were naughty.” Ellie slung the baby off her back and held her on her hip in the age-old way of mothers everywhere.

  Ingeborg hugged Carl, who now had her other side in a hug grip and held out her hands for baby May. The little one gave her a toothy grin while wiggling to get down and walk too. Already she tried to keep up with Carl, much as he did with Inga and Emmy.

  “Tired as I was, I must have been naughty somehow. But that baby who didn’t want to come into the world after he’d started the trip finally gave up. It was a lusty boy, and he told us what he thought about all the indignities he’d been through.”

  “Was this that young family, Englebret . . . ? Ellie’s brow wrinkled in trying to remember. “When I saw her in church, she was pooching out pretty far.”

  “Her name is Ida, his Oslo, and yes, you were close. Engebretson. They named the baby Rufus, after his grandpa.”

  “How long have they lived there now?”

  “A couple of months. I’m going to mention him to Thorliff. He’s looking for a job. They have only a small parcel, enough pasture for a cow or two and a small hayfield. He said he doesn’t really want to raise wheat, not that they have room.”

  “Did you invite her to quilting?”

  “I most certainly did. And if she feels well enough to come to church on Sunday, I invited them to join us for dinner too. He’s hoping to talk his brother into moving here. Word is out that there are jobs to be had in Blessing.”

  Ellie smiled at her mother-in-law. “I’m sure you enjoyed birthing that baby.”

  “That I did. Been some time since I got to do that. I was more encourager than doctor. Interesting the things we can talk about in the dark hours of the night, in spite of her needing to scream once in a while.” She glanced over to see Carl and Emmy sharing cookies out of the tin pail. “Don’t you go spoiling your supper now, you two.”

  “As if anything would keep Carl from eating.” Ellie reached for May and, settling her back on her hip, led the way into the house. “I have an idea you might have some strawberry syrup left. Doesn’t a swizzle sound good right now?”

  “If we were in town, I would take you and our three here, and we would go visit Rebecca’s sweet shop. She’s getting impatient for the strawberries to ripen for her sundaes and sodas.” Ingeborg retrieved the strawberry syrup from the icebox. “You get the vinegar out while I chip off some ice.”

  “Ice cream?” Emmy and Carl snapped their attention at her as if drawn by a magnet.

  “No. Swizzles.”

  “Oh.” Emmy stuck out her lower lip. “I like ice cream best.”

  “Well, I do too, but there are no strong men here to crank the ice-cream maker, so we’ll make do.” In a few minutes they had mixed the ingredients and took their fizzing drinks out to the back porch, along with the tin pail of cookies and some more out of the cookie jar. Ellie sat in the rocking chair and snuggled a sleepy May against her chest.

  “I should be home making supper.”

  “Why don’t you and Andrew come here instead? There’s a pot of ham and beans ready. I think Freda baked bread this morning, and I know I saw a pie on the counter in the pantry.”

  “She is such a hard worker. Reminds me of someone else I know.” Ellie took a sip from her glass, held the cool against her cheek, and rested against the chair back. “How are your peas doing?”

  “Haakan put up the trellis yesterday. I need to get out there and convince all those shoots to hang on to the string. Some of them can be so contrary. And yours?”

  “Carl helped me put up the strings. You should have seen him bent over talking to the plants, telling them to hurry up and grow strong so he could eat the peas.”

  Ingeborg chuckled. “That must have been some sight. I remember the year that we had a violet growing out behind the barn. Thorliff came running to tell me, so Andrew and I wandered down there too. We tried to get Andrew to sniff the sweet smell, but all he did was blow on it. Thorliff thought that was the funniest thing. He started laughing, which set Andrew off. How could I not laugh along with them? Anyone seeing us would have thought we’d lost our minds.”

  “Andrew always said he was going to marry up with me. Where do you think he got that phrase?”

  Ingeborg shook her head. “Heaven only knows.” She sipped her drink. “I am so pleased that you thought of this. Guess I am just not ready for summer yet.”

  They let the twittering birds and children sing on the rising afternoon breeze. A cow bellered, answered by another one.

  “The cows are ready for milking.”

  “I know. Goldy always announces the time. You’d think she carried a pocket watch.”

  “If you carried an udder as big as hers, you might want to get milked too.”

  “Point well taken. Did you leave Andre
w a note?”

  “Where else would I be with the horse and buggy there? Of course, I could have walked to town. I haven’t visited with Sophie in forever. Other than at church.”

  “Andrew always comes by here on his way to the barn. You don’t need anything from home do you?”

  “You still have diapers?”

  “Of course.”

  Ellie glanced down at the child sleeping on her lap. “She was fussy this afternoon and didn’t want a nap, but look now.”

  “We can lay her on the bed if you want.”

  “Maybe later. Oh.” She dug in her apron pocket and pulled out a letter. “Here. This came from Mor yesterday. It says she is coming to visit.”

  “All of them?”

  “No, just her. Arne and Rachel aren’t out of school yet, and Rachel can get the meals. I think Mor just wants to see her grandchildren. You’d think we lived on opposite sides of the state for the times we get on that train and go visit.”

  Ingeborg unfolded the letter and read it through quickly. “That’s pretty much what she says, all right. Ah, Goodie, how wonderful it will be to see you.” They became such good friends when she and the children came to live with them, those many years ago, after Goodie’s husband died that terrible winter.

  “You’re right. We need to visit more often, and I still think we should convince Uncle Olaf that he could have his furniture making right here in Blessing. After all, so many of his pieces live here, why not the maker too?”

  “He got flooded out one too many times.”

  “That’s a terrible excuse.”

  The two women shared smiles, and Ingeborg passed the cookie plate so Ellie didn’t have to move and wake the little one.

  “I am so glad you came. We haven’t had time like this for, well, it seems like years.”

  “What do you hear from Astrid?”

  “Other than she is enjoying the missionary school and still not sure if they will approve her, not a lot.” Ingeborg tipped her head back and set her rocker to creaking. “The thought of her being clear around the world in Africa . . .” She shook her head slowly. “No matter how much I pray for her and that situation, I have yet to find peace in it. I talked with Pastor about it, and I get the feeling he’s in the same boat. Wouldn’t you think that God would calm my mother heart?”