Northern Lights Trilogy (14 page)

Kaatje finished cleaning up Astrid as best as she could, wrapping her tightly in a second sheet, then looked up at Kristoffer. He was laughing and crying, gazing at his new son with joy and pride. “It is good for a boy to arrive in the midst of a storm!” he said boldly, smiling down at his tiny child. “We will call you Lars, for a brave man I knew once.”

He looked over to Astrid, obviously expecting the glowing mother to smile over at the newest addition to their family. His face fell. “Where is Knut?” he asked dazedly. “His mother needs to see Knut.”

“I will go for him,” Elsa said. She hurried from the room, as aware as Kaatje that Astrid’s time was short.

Kaatje watched as Kristoffer made his way to his wife, securing the child in her arms with a cloth sling. He grunted as another wave racked the ship. The child quieted, as if he, too, knew his time with his mother was short.

“You have done well, Astrid,” Kristoffer whispered. He kissed her forehead. “You will get well, and we will make a new life in Maine.” He spoke in a monotone, as if voicing his wishes would make them come true.

A small smile stole over her face. “Prop me up,” she managed to whisper.

Kaatje grabbed her pillow from the top bunk and handed it to Kristoffer, who did as his wife asked. They had just gotten her settled when Knut and Tora arrived with Elsa.

“Mama!” Knut cried, running to the bunk.

They all braced against the next wave. After it passed, Astrid raised a shaking hand to stroke Knut’s hair. “I love you,” she whispered in Norwegian. “Never forget that, my sweet little
nisse
.”

Kristoffer placed his hand over hers, tears running down his cheeks. Knut looked up at his father in surprise. “He won’t forget, Astrid. You’ll be there to tell him.”

Her eyes drifted up to meet his, and Kaatje fought off a feeling of panic, helplessness. Her friend was drifting away.
Lord!
she cried out silently.
Help us!

Astrid’s shaking hand left Knut’s head and went to Kristoffer’s face. Her voice suddenly gained strength, her last effort. “Take close care of our children, dear heart. I have loved you with all I have in me.”

“I know, Astrid,” he said. “I have loved you with all I have in me too.”

Kaatje glanced at Elsa, then both gave in to tears at the sound of resignation in Kristoffer’s voice.

Astrid closed her eyes, and they all held their breath, thinking that she had left them. Once more, her lids rose. This time her blue eyes were bright with life, and Kaatje found new hope that she would make it.

“Oh, Kris, Kris,” Astrid breathed. “It is so beautiful here. Come with me, dear heart. Come with me.”

Kristoffer let out a small sob. “I cannot, sweetheart. I need to stay here with the children. Wait for me. Wait for me.”

“I’ll be waiting, Kris. On the … other side.” And with that, Astrid closed her eyes forever.

The morning after the storm broke bright and clear with a freshening breeze. Tora welcomed the morning—even knowing she awakened to the burden of two children. She had been terrified throughout the night, certain that the
Herald
would be ripped apart piece by piece, sending them all to the bottom of the sea. She had gained a healthy respect for the sailors who braved the sea out on the decks, even, be-grudgingly, for her brother-in-law. He had, after all, seen them through the worst.

But the night had dealt them a second blow, she thought, as she numbly walked about the deck, cradling Kristoffer’s newborn son. She was still unable to quite believe that his mother would never ask for him. And how was she going to manage? She was too young for such a burden! Why, it was practically like being
married
to Kristoffer,
and
saddled with two small children. At least the tiny infant was asleep. Little Lars had wailed throughout the night until Cook arrived with a bottle of goat’s milk. After taking a tiny bit, the child slept as if he wanted to awake to a better world.

Despite her misgivings, Tora sensed the tiniest feeling of love beginning to grow. Lars and Knut had lost their mother, after all, and needed her. Where would she have been without her own mother?
Who would have protected her from her father? They would never have lived in peace without Mama as intermediary.

Tora found a seat on the deck and watched the sailors as they attended to the wounded ship. Here and there were groups of men working on a splintered mast, bringing up reserves of rope from the hold or mending a sail. Extra sails had been brought up and mounted early that morning when the storm broke. They worked feverishly, energetic with a new lease on life, tending to the ship’s worst needs first, in case another storm hit.

Cook approached and wordlessly handed her another bottle of goat’s milk. Knut watched the sailors, leaning close to Tora for once, as if seeking comfort from her presence. She wondered if he truly realized that his mother was gone.

Nearby, some of the men began singing as they pulled strong twine through a sail, like women at a quilting bee.

Long time was a very good time
,

Bully blow, blow, blow, boys
,

Long time in Mobile Bay
,

Bully long time ago
.

The song seemed to have endless verses, but Tora grew tired of translating their nonsensical English to Norwegian so she could understand it. One could respect their bravery, yes. But there was no understanding men such as these. They signed on to serve a captain to the death, facing fierce storms, boring doldrums, awful food, and terrible sleeping conditions. For what? She could make about as much sense of it as she could their songs.

“Tora,” Elsa said, suddenly at her elbow.

“Elsa,” Tora said dully, nodding.

“Kristoffer has finally left Astrid’s side. He wants to hold Lars. And you need a rest.”

Tora rose instantly, honest tired tears forming in her eyes. “Thank you. A nap would be wonderful right now.”

“I’ll come and wake you for the noon meal,” Elsa said. She looked
tired and sad. It
was
sad. It seemed almost unreal to Tora. Could Astrid really be gone? So fast? The poor woman had made it so far. Almost to America.

“He’s probably wet,” Tora said as the baby began to fuss. Her sudden concern for the baby’s well-being took her aback. Why should she care?

“I’ll find something to diaper him with,” Elsa said. “Go. To bed with you.”

As she left Elsa, something akin to love began to rise for her sister again. Elsa wasn’t all bad, Tora supposed. If she were truly a tyrant, her sister would never have come to help her with the boys.

“Stay with Elsa,” she said to Knut sternly. “Don’t wander. The sailors are very busy and don’t need
nisse
about.”

“An elf!” Elsa said with a weary laugh. “That’s exactly right! Come, my little elf,” she said to Knut, reaching out to him. “Let’s go and see your papa.”

Burying a passenger was the most dreaded of captain’s duties, thought Peder. Thankfully, with Pastor Lien on board, he would be spared this particular funeral. In the past year, Peder had buried five sailors at sea, three at once from a bout of cholera that had swept through the ship. But a woman. A woman as dear as Astrid Swenson. The thought tore at his heart. What if it had been Elsa instead? He needed to get her ashore in Maine soon. There she would be safe. No, the rigors of sea were no place for a woman.

He sighed and stood, suddenly feeling much older than his twenty-four years. Peder glanced out the cabin window and saw that everyone had gathered on the main deck for the burial. Earlier, Nora had prepared the body, then Karl had wrapped it in a tarp and weighted it with ballast to sink. It was a proud way to leave one world and enter the afterlife, Peder thought. Nothing could be better than burial at sea. But not for a woman.

Peder opened the cabin door, straightened his cap and tightened
his belt over his coat, then walked with all the confidence he could muster to the heart of the group. He stood beside Elsa, who was weeping, and placed his arm about her. Directly across from them, Kristoffer stood with Knut in his arms, his chin high, his eyes red. Tora stood beside him, cradling the sleeping Lars in her arms. Peder bowed his head in silence for a long moment, hearing only the waves washing alongside the ship and the wind in the sails.

“On a voyage such as this,” Pastor Lien began, “we do not expect tragedy to enter our ranks. After all, we are going to a new life, with new hope. To encounter death is a shock and most unwelcome. Yet yesterday our dear friend Astrid gave birth to a beautiful new child, and in turn she was reborn. She entered a place the Scriptures tell us we can be confident in because of what our Lord sacrificed for us. Her many weeks of pain and suffering are over, and she is whole and happy and at peace because she has met her Savior face to face.”

His face brightened. “Let us concentrate on that! Yes, we all feel the pain of her loss, especially for Kris and Knut and little Lars. But we will meet this sister in Christ again, and we will rejoice together in the light of the Lord.”

He paused, then opened his prayer book and read, “In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen. Our Lord Jesus Christ saith: The hour is coming in which all that are in the graves shall hear the voice of the Son of God, and shall come forth; they that have done good, unto the resurrection of life; and they that have done evil, unto the resurrection of damnation.”

Pastor Lien stepped forward and placed his hand on Astrid’s swaddled head; he gazed down at it as if staring at her lovely face in sorrow. “Out of dust art thou taken. Unto dust shalt thou return. Out of the dust shalt thou rise again. Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who according to his abundant mercy hath given us a lively hope by the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead.”

Together, they all prayed the Lord’s Prayer, then Pastor Lien spoke again. “This is from Psalm 130,” he said, reading from his
Bible. “Out of the depths have I cried unto thee, O Lord. Lord, hear my voice; let thine ears be attentive to the voice of my supplications. If thou, Lord, shouldest mark iniquities, O Lord, who shall stand? But there is forgiveness with thee…. I wait for the Lord, my soul doth wait, and in his word do I hope. My soul waiteth for the Lord more than they that watch for the morning: I say, more than they that watch for the morning. Let Israel hope in the Lord; for with the Lord there is mercy, and with him is plenteous redemption.”

Pastor Lien looked at all of them and said unashamedly, “Beloved, our Lord came so that each of us might have eternal life. Let us serve him always and never falter in our belief that he is the resurrection and the life. Our sister Astrid was a good and true servant. She goes before us as an example we all could follow. And we will meet her again in glory. Amen.”

With tears streaming down his face, the pastor stepped away. Peder nodded to two grim-faced sailors. They stepped forward, picked up Astrid’s wrapped body, and carried it to the railing. Kristoffer went to her head, placed his big hand upon it in silent farewell then looked away as tears coursed down his cheeks.

Peder swallowed hard, pushing away unwanted visions of saying good-bye to his own dear bride. “On the third day the Lord created land and seas,” he said. “Father God, we give back to you your own dear child, Astrid Swenson. We thank you for her time with us, for she was truly a godly example.” Then he nodded, swallowing hard again against the lump that was forming in his throat.

The sailors lifted Astrid’s body over the rail, and after a soft word from Peder, dropped it into the swirling seas. Her tarp-bound body floated for but a moment in the bubbly waves, then promptly sank.

At that moment, Kris let out an animal-like cry of pain and sank to his knees crying, “
Hvorfor?
Why, Lord? Why?”

The man’s visible weakness took Peder aback, but he could not allow his own feelings to show, though his second mate’s distress threatened to bring him to tears. He was captain of this ship, and the sailors
would not appreciate such weakness in their leader. He set his mouth in a grim line and went to Kristoffer, placing his hand on the weeping man’s shoulder. Knut, frightened by his father’s crying, started to sob too. Peder nodded to the people, allowing them to disperse from the uncomfortable scene. The sailors left first, then the others. Only Kaatje, Tora, Elsa, and Karl remained.

It was Kaatje who finally went to Kristoffer and gently encouraged him to rise. She looked up at him with tender eyes and spoke quietly. “She was a gift, Kris. I’ll always treasure her memory. You do so too.”

The others also found words of comfort for him, but Peder’s mind was blank. All he could think of was being in Kristoffer’s position and losing Elsa. It left his mouth dry and his mind grimly determined. No, the sea was no place for a woman.

E
lsa struggled with her skirts as she made her way up the ladder to what had become her daily perch on top of the captain’s cabin. Her heart pounded with excitement. Today she had a special subject for her sketching: the
Massachusetts
, racing the
Herald
to America, now just ten days away. An old clipper ship, the
Massachusetts
was a grand lady and about the weight of the
Herald
. She sailed broad on their starboard beam, her sails unfurled. The
Herald
was faster, but Peder stayed alongside, enjoying the sudden company in the midst of the Atlantic. Sailors climbed the rigging above Elsa, waving to their counterparts across the water, who were doing the same.