The Unlikely Allies (4 page)

“Rolf, you’re hugging me again!”

“Of course I am. That’s what pretty girls are for—to be hugged.” He laughed at her struggles to escape and then released her. “You’ll love my parents. I told them all the good things about you and left out all the bad.”

“What bad things are there that you left out?”

“That you won’t let me love you. I think it’s terrible,” he said, turning to give her an engaging grin. “It’s the least you could do for a poor scholar who’s taught you to be the best skier in Africa.”

Rolf had certainly been an enjoyable companion for Mallory as she had begun adjusting to life in a new culture. During her stay at Oslo,
he had been constantly at her side, and they, along with Eva and Lars, had taken two other trips to the ski slopes in the mountains, where he had indeed made a proficient skier out of her. He had also tried to prepare her for the bitter Norwegian winters, which sounded even more difficult than Mallory had imagined after being used to the sultry climate of Africa. During all that time he had romanced her incessantly, but always with a light spirit. Mallory had developed a great affection for the young man, and now she smiled at him. “I may have a few bad things to tell your parents about their son.”

“Go ahead. They’ll never believe it. I’ve been spoiled beyond belief.”

“I can believe that!”

Rolf continued teasing her in a jocular fashion as he turned down toward the sea. “There’s my home right there.”

“Why, what a charming house, Rolf. It’s wonderful.”

“I was born in that house. You think we ought to put a sign out in front saying, ‘Rolf Bjelland Born Here’?” Without waiting for an answer, he stopped the car, leaped out, and dashed around to open the door. “I can’t wait for you to meet my parents.”

Mallory smiled at the young man’s exuberance. “I’m going to miss you, Rolf.”

“Good. Absence makes the heart grow fonder.”

At that moment the door opened and a couple came out. “Hello, Mother, Father. Here she is—the woman who refuses to marry your son. I think you ought to take a stick to her.”

“It’s you who needs the stick!” Rolf’s father was a tall, broad-shouldered man with iron-gray hair and a weathered complexion. He put out his hand. “I’m Norman, and this is my wife, Hulda.”

“Come in by the fire,” Hulda said. “I would guess that son of mine hasn’t fed you.”

“I’m so glad to meet you,” Mallory said. “And, no, he hasn’t fed me today.”

“Well, come in,” Norman said. “Dinner has been ready since early this morning. Momma has been cooking a feast.”

Mallory entered the house, where a cheerful fire crackled in a hearth that warmed an open area including a sitting room, dining area, and kitchen. The fragrance of fresh bread baking filled the room. She looked around, noting the low ceilings with exposed beams and the wooden walls weathered to a silvery gray. The walls were liberally covered with drawings and paintings. The sturdy wooden furniture, polished smooth with age, was simple but appeared comfortable.

“You come this way,” Hulda said to Mallory, “and I will show you where you will be staying.”

“I feel like this is such an imposition.”

“Nonsense. It’ll be good to have company. I’m afraid you’ll find life here very boring. There’s really nothing to do.”

Hulda led Mallory down a short hallway and showed her through a door into a pleasant bedroom with white furniture. White curtains at the window with a blue-flower border matched a handmade blue-and-white quilt on the bed, and a dark blue rag rug warmed up the hardwood floor. “Why, this is a beautiful room!” Mallory exclaimed.

“It was our daughter’s, but she’s married now. Make yourself at home while I go put supper on the table.”

Rolf entered the bedroom as his mother left, carrying Mallory’s suitcases. “I’d better help you unpack.”

“No thanks. I can take care of that myself.”

He set one suitcase on a chair and the other on the floor.

“Your parents are very nice.”

“I’m glad you’ll be staying here with them. They get lonely. I don’t get up here much except during vacations.” He opened the closet door. “Hurry up and unpack. I’m starved.”

“You’re always starved. If you’d be so kind as to wait in the sitting room, I’ll be done before you know it.”

Twenty minutes later the four of them sat down to a meal that would have fed an army.

“This is delicious soup,” Mallory said. “What is it?”

“Hulda’s secret formula,” Norman said with a grin. “She’s only going to give it to Rolf’s bride. She guards her recipes jealously.”

“You might as well give it to her now, then,” Rolf said. He had stuffed his mouth full of a buttery roll and spoke around it in a muffled tone. “She’s going to marry me sooner or later—when she stops being so stubborn about it.”

“I’m not stubborn!” Mallory objected. “I’m just too old for you.”

“You’ll have to be careful of him,” Hulda said. “He’s been chasing older women since he was fifteen years old.”

“And caught a few of them, I daresay.”

Mallory flashed a smile at Norman.

The fire crackled and popped in the fireplace, and the pleasant smell of burning wood mingled with the odor of the fresh bread.

“I understand you’re going to be working with the Lapps,” Norman commented. He sipped dark tea from a huge cup. “They’re a strange people. Do you speak Lapp?”

“No, I don’t. But Rolf tells me that most of the young people learn Norwegian in school.”

“That they do these days. Back when I was a boy before the schools were here, you couldn’t communicate with them. Things are different now.”

“However are you going to get to them?” Hulda asked. “They wander all over the north country, all the way to Sweden and Finland . . . even the Soviet Union.”

“God will provide a way,” Mallory said, smiling.

“I understand your whole family are missionaries,” Norman commented.

“Yes, we all came from America originally, but I was born in Kenya and have never been anywhere else—until now.”

At the end of the meal, Rolf stood up. “Well, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to go.” He embraced his parents and then said to Mallory, “Walk me out to the car. You wouldn’t want my folks to see you kissing me good-bye.”

Mallory could not restrain a smile. “I’ll walk to the car with you, and we’ll shake hands.”

“All right. Have it your way.”

As soon as they got out to the car, Mallory said, “Rolf, you’ve been such a help to me, and it was so nice of you to work out the arrangements with your parents. They’re lovely people.”

“Oh yes. We Bjellands are all lovely people. Did you mean that about a handshake?”

“Yes!” Mallory put out her hand, but Rolf quickly leaned forward and kissed her full on the lips.

“I’ll be back before you know it. Watch out for these young fellas around here. They’re a bad lot.”

“I’ll write to you,” Mallory said. She watched as he got into the car and waved as he drove away.

When she got back into the house, Norman grinned at her. “Was it a nice handshake?”

“I expect you know Rolf better than that. He stole a kiss before I could even move.”

“He’s a rash young fellow. Now, why don’t you finish getting unpacked and relax a bit, and tomorrow we’ll give you a tour of the village.”

“I’d like to see the village, but I’m sure I can find my own way.”

“No, we’ll go with you,” Hulda said. “I’ve told everyone you’re coming, so I’m afraid you may find that they’ll be staring at you. Visitors are quite a novelty up here. We don’t get many.”

After cleaning up the next morning after breakfast, the three put on light jackets and left the house for a two-hour stroll around the village of Narvik. The Bjellands knew everyone, of course, which was not saying much in the small village. Many of the people were fishermen, Mallory discovered, and she could not keep their names straight. They were so very different from African names. When she mentioned this to the Bjellands, Norman simply shrugged his shoulders and said, “You’ll learn
their names in time. How long will you be here?”

“Not very long, I hope. I just need to figure out where the Lapps might be at this time of the year, and then I can get started.”

Norman shook his head, a doleful expression on his weathered face. “I can’t think how you’re going to make it. People born in this country would have a hard time living way up north with the Lapps, and here you were brought up in sweltering Africa. Are you sure God’s called you to do this?”

“Yes, I’m sure.”

“Now, you leave her alone, Norman,” Hulda said quickly. “If God has called her, He’ll make a way.”

****

In the days that followed, Mallory thought often of Hulda’s words—
”If God has called her, He’ll make a way.”
She was anxious to get on with her work with the Lapps, but there was one obstacle that was preventing her from doing so: no one knew where they were. She took long walks in the village and got to know some of the shopkeepers by name, but as the weeks went by, the weather continued to get chillier. Mallory noticed that many of the local residents still were not wearing jackets, but she needed to pull hers tight around her to stay warm. Some days, the wind off the sea hit her like an icy fist, and the sky joined with the horizon, making one seamless unit.

For most of September, Mallory felt cut off from the outside world. Narvik almost seemed like another planet, but rumors from the outside still made their way to the little village, and newspapers—sometimes weeks or even months old—arrived on the fishing boats when the weather permitted. With time on her hands, Mallory pored over the papers, reading in detail how Hitler had promoted himself to military chief earlier in the year and how in March he’d had a day of unparalleled glory. The dictator who had left Austria in his
youth as a penniless artist was cheered by thousands as he returned to Vienna to pronounce the
Anschluss
—the union of Austria and Germany. It had been a bloodless victory, but everyone in Europe knew it was not the last aggression they could expect from Adolf Hitler.

Mallory wrote to her parents and brothers, to Eva and to Sigrid, and there were times when she was tempted to give up on her plan. She could not simply walk out of Narvik and into the wild north country and find the Lapps. She had to have a guide.

While staying with the Bjellands, Mallory attended the Lutheran church with them. The pastor, Peter Knudsen, was a fine preacher and welcomed Mallory warmly. He was intensely interested in her plans to evangelize the Lapps, but he was not too encouraging.

“The Lapps,” he had told her, “are very resistant to the Gospel.”

Mallory asked him what their religion was, and he shook his head. “I don’t really know,” he admitted. “It’s almost as if they don’t have any, although I’m sure they do. Every people has a god of some kind.”

October brought more of the same routine for Mallory, and before she knew it, it was well into November. She could hardly believe she was still in Narvik. Rolf’s parents didn’t seem to object to Mallory’s extended stay, but Mallory was growing almost desperate with anxiety. She decided to seek God more earnestly and made up her mind to fast and pray for two days, and knowing that it would be impossible to conceal this from the Bjellands, she announced her intentions.

“Why, that’s a fine idea,” Hulda said. “We’ll join you. No meals for two days, Norman.”

The three set themselves to the task of seeking God, and Mallory stayed mostly in her room. She found she could not pray constantly, and much of the time she simply meditated on the Word, turning over the pages of her Bible, hoping that God would speak to her through one of the verses.

The second day she thought little about food, and late in the afternoon she heard a knock on the front door. Norman and Hulda were both out of the house, having gone to the village to visit some friends, so she went to answer it. When she opened the door, she found Pastor Knudsen on the step.

“Good morning, Miss Winslow.”

“Why, good morning, Pastor. Won’t you come in?”

When he entered, she said, “The Bjellands aren’t here, but they’ll be back soon.”

Knudsen pulled off his hat, which was covered with fine flakes of snow, and held it in his hands. “I need to speak with you.”

“Well then, let me take your coat.”

“No, I’ll not stay. I have a sick family to visit, but something came to my attention I thought might be of interest to you.”

“What is it, Pastor?”

“A young Lapp woman has been arrested. She’s in the local jail.”

“What has she done?”

“She’s been charged with drunkenness and disorderly conduct. I’m afraid she’s going to be sentenced to three months if someone doesn’t pay her fine. She doesn’t have any money, of course.”

“Does she live here?”

“No, and she is a rather disreputable young woman, I’m sorry to tell you. I went in to talk with her, and she’s a rough one. Curses every breath! I thought I’d heard profanity among the timbermen and the fishermen, but this one—well, I won’t go into that. She has no morals where men are concerned. Took up with a blacksmith and was just living with him out of wedlock.”

“How old is she?”

“Oh, probably only in her early twenties.” He hesitated. “If you are still intent on finding the Lapps, she can take you to them. But you’d have to pay her fine . . . and . . . well . . . perhaps I’ve come in error. This is actually not something I would advise you to do.”

“But, Pastor, this is clearly from God!”

“From God? What do you mean?”

“The Bjellands and I have been fasting and praying for two days now that God would open a door to get me to the Lapp people, and this is it!”

His face twisted with a wry expression. “Well, if you can put up with her ways, she can get you to the Lapps, all right. Maybe this is from God, but if you were my daughter, I wouldn’t permit it.”

“Thank you for coming by, Pastor. I believe God has used you in this way.”

“You’re actually thinking of going out into the wilderness with that woman?”

“If she’ll take me, I’ll go,” Mallory said simply.

****

Stepping into a cell at the tiny local jail, Mallory found herself the object of a pair of cold eyes. The woman’s name, she had been informed by the sheriff, was Orva, and like Pastor Knudsen, the sheriff had also warned Mallory about her temperament. “She’s a bad ’un, miss. I’d have nothin’ to do with her. Jail might take a little of the starch out of her.”