by Donna Bishop
“I love you too, and I have loved our life together, Ross. If only that were enough. I can’t be less than I am either. If you want to be with us, you have to do this for us, and for yourself. You have to take the medicine and the counselling.”
His arms tighten around her and he turns his head to breathe in the scent of her hair. He gives her a soft kiss on the cheek, then loosens his hold gradually, and steps back, definitively.
“Well, this is it then,” Ross says.
“This is it then,” Liv says back. They step back from their embrace, wiping away their tears.
Walking away from him down the hospital hallway, Liv feels almost disembodied, as if she’s watching herself leave, a wobbly reflection on the shiny hospital floor.
It’s never occurred to Liv that her marriage would end by mutual agreement. She assumed that Ross would choose her and the kids over anything. She thought he would be so happy when he heard that she would stay in the marriage and try to make it work if he did his part.
She sits for a time in the parkade feeling numb and alone.
It’s December 20th, around 8 p.m. Liv imagines the babysitter is probably tucking the kids into bed about this time — her sweet kids, blissfully unaware of the change that’s coming to their lives.
On the outskirts of the city, she slows the car down and pulls over to blow her nose again. The night sky is alive with dancing stars and northern lights, flaring brilliant blues, purples and greens. It seems to her a sign that everything is unfolding the way it’s meant to. The moving curtain of celestial light brightens her path and reminds her of the strength, love and wisdom that have been forever woven into her spirit.
Later, she finds out that Ross checked himself out of the hospital that same evening, against medical advice. He booked into the hotel with the strip bar and Liv didn’t hear from him again until mid-January.
It wasn’t the worst Christmas ever. Liv couldn’t bear the thought of travelling to the coast to spend it with her parents, especially with her father dying. She hadn’t even told them about the separation yet. But Liv’s Little Mountain friends included her and Leah, Molly and
Micah in all their family traditions and turkey dinners. The usual Little Mountain festivities, sleigh riding, consuming mass quantities of marshmallowy hot-chocolate beside blazing bonfires after ankle-destroying ice skating in ill-fitting skates on crystal frozen ponds, weren’t quite as fun without Ross and he was missed. But it was still fun. It did her heart so much good to see she was able to make Christmas magical for the children, because that was what really mattered.
23
~ Resilience ~
Liv arrives at Celeste’s, exhausted, putting one foot in front of the other, doing all the things she needs to do to get ready for the divorce, but today she needs a boost, a distraction.
“I need to know the final chapter in Hannah’s life. All my other past lives I looked at ended with death, but Hannah’s life was just beginning to unfold. I want to see what happened to her.”
Celeste’s living room glows golden with late-afternoon winter sun. Liv takes a drink of minted ice water and relishes the chill it produces as it flows down her sore throat. She’s been fighting a cold the kids brought home from school.
“You know, of all the past lives I've visited, Hannah's still resonates with me the most. The characters are alive in my mind. It’s like a feature-length movie where I haven't seen the ending. As I make my way through this divorce, I find myself thinking about them. Even her annoying, religious sisters are part of my soul’s history and I love how Ingaborg infuriates them because she won’t bow to the rules.”
“She's certainly indomitable! She’s like you, Liv — a free spirit, despite all the pressure to conform. She remains optimistic in spite of the punishment she endures,” Celeste observes.
“Yes. Such a restrictive world, especially for girls. Strangely, despite the feminist revolution, I can relate to the pressure they're under. I’ve always been way too concerned about what people think I should be.”
“We all fight that conditioning. Hopefully our daughters will escape it.”
Liv takes another swig of water and smiles at her friend. She realizes she’s always felt deprived being the only girl in her family and maybe that’s why she's so interested in the Kleppen girls. She imagines what it would have been like for her to have a sister, someone with more in common, maybe someone who would protect her. As an adult, she’s been able to surround herself with “chosen” sisters, friends who have been there for her and she for them.
“I’m so curious to see how Hannah and Ingaborg managed in their lives, considering the challenges they faced.”
“Children have an amazing ability to find their way through troubled times,” Celeste says.
“I sure hope my kids have that kind of resilience. They could sure use it right about now, with all the changes.”
“Well, let's see how our girls fared, shall we? I hope it's a happy story, for everyone's sake," Celeste says, moving to her customary place on the footstool.
Session No. 12 transcript, Feb 1, 1989
Hannah 1858
Hannah is alone in the house. It’s absolutely wonderful to be with her again. She’s adding chopped cabbage to a pot of fish stew on the hearth when she hears something outside. She wipes the condensation off the window and sees Ingaborg approaching with two men. They’re strangers, and even stranger is their attire — they wear black wide-brimmed hats and have the distinct facial hair of Hasidic Jews. It must be her uncles. The Kleppens have received a telegram about their impending arrival to claim her.
Her first impulse is to run. She clatters up the stairs to the room she and Ingaborg share and sits crouched on their mattress, her mind swimming with conflict. She has never met these men before and they have come for her from far, far away. While her life here is not particularly happy, she at least has Ingaborg — any thought of leaving her brings panic.
Ingaborg is calling her from below. Hannah resolves not to leave her friend — she’ll send her uncles away, she decides.
Downstairs, she greets her uncles shyly, but begins to warm to them when she sees their joy at finding her and the kindness in their faces. They introduce themselves as her Uncle Benjamin and Uncle Samuel, her mother’s brothers. It’s clear they want to embrace her, but they just step forward and gently take her hands, looking into her eyes.
The Kleppens appear. They are shy at first, then it’s bedlam, with everyone speaking at once in different languages. The uncles speak English, basic Dutch and no Norwegian. Hannah is surprised at how quickly she lapses into speaking Dutch. She can also recall a little bit of English, so she’s the interpreter.
Her uncles extend their warm thanks to the Kleppens for saving Hannah and offer them generous compensation for caring for her for three years. Hannah observes the glint of greed in Mr. Kleppen’s eyes at the mention of money, but he quickly declines, saying they cannot accept payment for doing God’s work.
As Hannah talks and interprets, an idea begins to form in her mind. Perhaps there’s a way she can leave this backward place and take her friend with her. She knows the Kleppens consider Ingaborg a misfit — her rebelliousness is an embarrassment to them and they’re convinced she will never be a suitable wife or an active member of this strict community. If Hannah can find a way for them to save face, she hopes they can be induced to let Ingaborg go.
Speaking in Norwegian, she flatters the Kleppens, telling them she’ll never forget their kindness to her. She says she fears she’ll never adjust to a new life with these unusual looking men in their strange hats and long beards.
Hannah takes advantage of the linguistic limitations of the Kleppens and tells her uncles she won’t go with them without Ingaborg.
“We cannot take this girl from her family,” Uncle Samuel exclaims.
She tells her kind uncles that Ingaborg is beaten and abused by her father and she will suffer terribly if Hannah isn’t there to protect
her. She knows she’s exaggerating in some ways, but she’s desperate.
The uncles are horrified a father would treat a child this way. They tell her they will provide a home for Ingaborg if Hannah can arrange it.
That achieved, Hannah turns to the oblivious Kleppens and builds her case with them. Her uncles, she tells them, are aware that Hannah and Ingaborg have a strong bond. Negotiations continue and they offer Ingaborg a position as Hannah’s companion, with her salary to be paid to her parents until she’s of age.
She knows this will not only appeal to Mr. Kleppen’s greed but legitimize the decision in the eyes of the community. She clinches the deal by suggesting that Ingaborg will find great educational opportunities in England, which will make their family proud.
Hilde has grown pale with this talk. She and her husband confer quietly — it seems she’s alarmed at the idea of losing Ingaborg. He speaks to her firmly, then turns to the uncles and agrees to the proposal with stiff formality. Hilde stands behind him, her face grim and her lips trembling slightly.
Hannah and Ingaborg join arms and dance in a circle singing, “Tusen Taks, Tusen Taks, a thousand thanks.”
Hannah’s uncles are mystified this couple would allow their child to go so far away but they’re pleased a deal has been struck.
They must leave at first light the next morning so Hannah and Ingaborg run to Uncle Olaf’s house right away to tell him the exciting news. Uncle Olaf is happy for his cherished niece and her special friend. They are surprised the next day when he makes the long trek to see them off and hands them each a small, carefully wrapped package. Thrilled, they unwrap them to discover two delicate and intricate pendants. He carved them out of black soapstone the girls had brought him from the beach. Both feature the three Norse Norn sisters dancing, one with a moon over the dancer’s heads for Hannah and one with the sun for Ingaborg. He has hung them on fine silver chains he remade from a necklace he had bought his wife for their wedding.
They encircle him in a close hug. “Uncle Olaf, we love you and we promise to write to you about our adventures in Scotland!” Ingaborg has tears in her eyes realizing she'll likely never see him again.
~ ~ ~
It feels like I’m back in the barrel with Hannah but it’s Hannah and Ingaborg, cuddled together on a narrow bed on a ship. Hannah is terrified — curled into herself, quivering under a heavy blanket. This voyage brings back the horrors of the fateful journey that took her family from her. Ingaborg is tucked in beside her murmuring words of comfort, although she’s queasy from the motion of the rocking ship.
~ ~ ~
Now forward again. They’re in a horse-drawn carriage, clippety-clopping up a long, straight lane overhung by arching tree branches toward a grand, imposing home. The uncles sit in front with a uniformed driver. In the back seat, Ingaborg is quiet, staring with wide eyes, while, beside her, Hannah is fidgety and agitated. I’ve never seen her so antsy. As the carriage approaches the manor, I see the entire household staff has been assembled to greet them. Housemaids, a butler, liveried footmen and kitchen staff line up one side, the family on the other. A footman comes forward and opens the carriage door. Hannah bursts out and runs toward a gangly boy who rushes to meet her.
“Finn!”
Unbelievably, there he is — Hannah and her brother fling their arms around one another. “Finn, Finn, Finn,” echoes in Hannah’s mind, but for the moment, she is speechless.
Hannah regains her voice and she and Finn talk breathlessly as the party is led into the palatial entry hall. She’s introduced to a delicately beautiful dark-haired woman — her aunt Rachel, her Papa’s sister, who in turn presents her husband, Uncle Haim. He’s a tall, dignified-looking man who bends to greet them with sincere warmth. Ingaborg stands beside Hannah in silence, her eyes wide with amazement at the extravagance of this home.
Aunt Rachel fawns over Hannah and hugs her very tight, telling her she is lovely and very much like her mother. After three years of grief and uncertainty, she’s overjoyed to know Hannah is safe. She smiles welcomingly at Ingaborg.
“God bless you for saving Hannah, my dear, and welcome to our family.”
Aunt Rachel takes the three children to a grand salon with settees upholstered in rich gold velvet, where they settle beside the fire. A maid wheels in a trolley loaded with a pot of tea, cups and a platter of assorted sweets.
Aunt Rachel says she has always felt somewhat responsible for the loss of Hannah’s family, as they had been travelling to Scotland to visit her when they met with tragedy. Everyone had assumed Finn was the lone survivor. He’d been spotted by some fishermen two days after the wreck. His lifeboat had been carried further out to sea by an easterly wind, and he’d been found clinging to a dead old woman, hypothermic but alive.
Hannah holds Finn’s warm hand and glances at him often, drinking in his smile, as if she can’t believe her own eyes that he’s truly there.
Hannah and Ingaborg are taken up a stately staircase to a lovely room on the second floor with twin canopy beds heaped with pillows and luxurious comforters. A fire warms the room. There’s a knock and a maid enters. She shows them where to wash and helps them change into matching velvet dresses in cornflower blue with white eyelet trim.
All the while, the girls chatter excitedly in Norwegian — they can’t believe how their lives have so quickly changed. They stand side-by-side, clasping their carved, black pendants, looking at their reflections in an elaborately gilded mirror.
They’re ushered into an intimidating formal dining room and seated with Finn between them. Along the wall, a row of servants stand in wait with platters of fragrant food. Aunt Rachel signals for service. The girls’ eyes are wide with wonder at the generous meal before them. Before they begin to eat, Uncle Benjamin leads the table in a prayer of gratitude for the miraculous return of Hannah, for their new charge, Ingaborg, and for the blessed, hope-filled life they’re about to begin.
~ ~ ~
I see glimpses — Hannah, Finn and Ingaborg running across an expanse of lawn, then in a forest glen, rolling with laughter on green grass. Then they’re a bit older, exploring an ancient ruin, lingering on lichen-coated stones, entranced by the magic and lore of the Celts.
In a sunlit studio, perhaps at a music school, I see the three of them together, filling the room with music so affecting it takes my breath away.
Hannah sits erect at a grand piano, her mouth curved in song. She’s taller now, maybe about twenty, and her voice has gained depth but lost none of its sweetness. It’s perfectly suited to the rambling Scottish ballad she sings — strong and full of emotion.
Finn stands alongside, his face intent as he plies a violin with a bow. The change in him is remarkable. Gone is the awkward young boy. He’s filled out and grown muscular. There’s a trace of his father in his handsome features.
Ingaborg looks both womanly and angelic as she sways and plucks the strings of a graceful harp — her bright gold curls, tied back with a ribbon, cascade down her back.
Now they’re playing on a stage framed by towering red velvet curtains before a large, rapt audience. As the last notes fade into silence, they rise to the applause, join hands and move to the front of the stage to take a bow. They beam at each other and bow again.
~ ~ ~
I see them now back in the salon in their Edinburgh home, sitting once again on the elegant sofas. Hannah is a mature woman now — her face is leaner, and her dark hair is arranged into a smooth, refined bun. She’s reading a book, but as I watch she glances over, catching Finn’s eye. They share a smile. He says something to the woman beside him that I don’t catch, and she throws her head back and laughs. It’s Ingaborg, and she has her feet in his lap! He gently places his hand on her belly, which is distinctly round.
Finn and Ingaborg are lovers and they’re having a baby! How delightfully unconventional! Just like Ingaborg. This is astounding. I never could have imagined things working out so perfectly. I’m so happy for them, for myself. This seems
like a good time to come home.
“Come back slowly to this time…” Celeste intones.
Liv takes a few moments to process, then slowly opens her eyes. Liv breathes in what she now knows is her own truth, “My spirit does contain Hannah’s resilience and self-confidence and I will get through this time in my life.”
She’s certain that Hannah wasn’t someone she dreamed up to keep her company as a child. Her story is far too complicated and touches hers on many levels.
“I absolutely recognize these stories and these characters from the past. Hannah and I shared a soul and Ingaborg and I share a bloodline! When I go home, I’m going to do a whole lot of research and make some phone calls now that I have time,” Liv says, rising to go. “This is so exciting — in addition to being an awesome distraction from my divorce.”
“You, my friend, are the perfect hypno-subject and what a story your soul has to tell. I’m so happy this work we’ve done has helped you find your way.”
24
~ Roots And Wings ~
Celeste’s kitchen windows are foggy with steam the next day when the phone rings. A giant pot of borscht bubbles on the stove and she tucks the receiver between her cheek and her shoulder — her hands are busy kneading bannock.
“Celeste you’re not going to believe this! I know we don’t have a session today, but are you busy? I need to tell you something amazing.”
“Of course, come on over, my friend. Soup and bannock await you!”
Liv arrives half an hour later, pink-cheeked and breathless.
“I can’t wait to hear what has got you so excited, but catch your breath while I turn the stove down.”
Liv immediately begins relaying the stunning information she’s learned from her morning’s sleuthing.
“I couldn’t stop thinking about Hannah’s story. It was driving me a bit mad. So, I called around to see if I could discover whether and which of these people really existed. I got no information from my mom and dad. They were on their way to his oncology appointment, and they were pretty sure they wouldn’t be receiving good news. I told them I’d call back later to find out how it went.