JOURNEY TO THE MIDNIGHT SUN
James Sheldon
LOVE CONQUERS ALL
Book 1 of 3
Chapter 6
The women of the clan, being without their men, had moved from their respective huts into the long house where they might better organize themselves to meet the challenge of the coming winter. It was not a small job but they got it done in good order and eased their loneliness in the process.
First to rise that morning, Emma stood on the longhouse deck, wrapped in a robe of woodland caribou. The first hint of dawn revealed the little river below, its dull silvery gloss visible under drifting whiffs of steam. Above the river, the outline of the forest against the awakening sky stood out as the only other recognizable form. From the silence, a warbler called out to herald the birth of a new day. A second warbler answered from beyond the north edge of camp where, in the creeping light, a large shadow revealed itself to be a section of wall. Piles of dirt, a log pole here and there, all part of a construction site that would soon come to life.
Sipping hot tea and listening to the birds, the Matriarch filled her mind with pleasant recollections of days past. She could see John and Laureal in her mind’s eye. They were guiding the giant that drug the poles up the river trail. They were working like a couple that belonged together, clearing obstacles in natural concert so as not to get snagged. Emma had watched them from the deck, and later, from inside the longhouse, she had listened to their voices drifting in through the open window. They had agreed to dig all the post holes first while the weather held. They dug for days, John and Laureal, and Cody also, digging together, down through roots and rocks. Those days had left them covered in dirt, and day's end had been a comedy in and of itself, brought about by strict protocol around washing and bathing. After that the family always gathered for supper at the long table. Then with bedtime approaching and temperatures falling, they stoked the hearth, wrapped themselves in caribou robes, and worked with John, drawing maps and sharing valuable information regarding the land to the north. For fun in the flickering firelight, Laureal had shown John the traditional dance of the Kasskatchen people, a waltzing type of trot in which the dancers intermittently paused to do a form of Zumba. Emma could not help but smile. The thought of John and Laureal lingering in the starlight on the edge of camp, bidding one another farewell at day’s end, all out of words, all tuckered out, and yet neither wishing to part from the other’s company. And so it was that the Matriarch had to ask herself, was it only wishful thinking or did the young pair, despite their tragic beginning, have the makings of a partnership strong enough to someday return the House of Emerson to its former glory? If only Mr Summerfield would let it be.
At present, just enough daylight spilled over the trees to reveal the silhouette of a man sitting on a log bench looking out over the water below. Curious to know what young Summerfield was about, Emma gathered her robe close around her and proceeded down the porch steps.
“Good morning, sir.”
“Good morning, ma’am,” standing and removing his cap.
“You are up early.”
“Yes, ma’am,” both haggard and urgent, as if he hadn't slept a wink, “I very much need to speak with you.”
“Oh really.”
“Yes, ma’am,” his hat still in hand, “I am hoping we can renegotiate our contract.”
“Oh, how so?”
“Ma’am, I was not honest with you in our last meeting.” And with a forlorn glance over flowing water, “I was not honest with myself.”
“Mr. Summerfield,” breaking the silence, “are you in love with my granddaughter?”
“Yes, ma’am, I am,” returning his eyes to her, he appeared all but hopeless, “I am desperately in love with her.”
Emma nearly laughed, “There are worse things than being desperately in love.”
“Agreed,” the smile kindling on his face, a testament to the promise of youth.
“Before we begin anew,” said the Matriarch, “I must confess, I failed to tell you one small thing about my granddaughter when last we spoke. Her father and grandfather are to blame. With her being so beautiful from birth, they couldn’t help but spoil her. I’m only telling you this because I want you to know, she’ll boss you if you let her.”
John nodded, his expression that of one who has cast his lot.
“Your decision brings me great hope, John Summerfield. Although, I do hold out some reservation, being that, as impressed as we are, we have known you only a short time and, yourself having wandered so far from home, you are yet something of a mystery.”
John narrowed his eyes even as he kept a smile, “I would not say I have ‘wandered.’ I am on a mission. It has taken me far afield. There’s a difference.”
Emma appeared contemplative. “Perhaps you are searching for something either way, and now is the time to ask yourself...would you be happy if you found nothing more?”
John nodded slowly but surely, "Yes.”
Returning to the longhouse, Emma found Jessie and Laureal working at the hearth, “Good morning.”
“Good morning.”
“That smells good.”
“It’s for John,” Laureal stated.
“May I have a little?” feigning humbleness.
“Of course! I apologize, grandma! I’m not thinking.”
“Laureal and John are going to picnic in the aspen grove today,” Jessie chimed, shooting a smile at her mother.
“I see,” said Emma, opening a shutter on a window overlooking the river, letting fresh air mix with the air of the house. Then, turning from window to daughter, “The man we spoke of, the man we found to be a good match for Laureal…I have spoken with him again. He has asked for Laureal’s hand. And myself believing you would approve, I have granted it. He and Laureal are to be wed.”
Stopped dead in her tracks, Laureal gazed at them in shock and horror.
“That would be Mr. Summerfield?” Jessie asked, quick catch her mother's ruse.
“Yes, of course,” replied Emma, breaking into a smile, “Mr. Summerfield and Laureal are to be married, providing of course, Laureal accepts.”
“I accept!” cried Laureal, looking like she’d been led to the edge of a cliff, given a push and lost her balance only to be drawn back a moment before falling to her death. Her mouth, yet partly agape, slowly gave way to a joyous smile. Her eyes wide with questions, she glanced back and forth between mother and grandmother, “When did you speak with John? How long have you known?”
“I just spoke with him this morning, in the yard, above the river.”
Laureal strode quickly to the window.
“He’s gone to the aspen grove, dear. He knew that you and your mother and I would need to have a talk. This is not a cut and dried thing.”
“‘Not cut and dried?’” Laureal echoed, suddenly worried, “What do you mean, grandmother?”
“I will tell you…after you finish your business at the hearth.”
Difficult as it was for Laureal to wait, they first ate breakfast and prepared a special picnic basket. Only then did the three women sit for a talk at the hearth:
“Mr. Summerfield has asked for your hand,” Emma began, “and you have accepted. However, you are not to be married until he returns from his quest in the north.”
“But grandma, he doesn’t need to go...not anymore,” as if stating the obvious. “He can stay here with us,” and with a moment's more thought, “John and I can cut poles for our house today!”
“Laureal,” Emma knowingly began, “just as you have been raised to rebuild our family, so has John been trained to carry out a mission. We cannot take that away from him anymore than we can take what is yours from you.”
“But we can compromise,” added Laureal’s mother.
“Yes we can,” Emma agreed. “And we can support one another.”
Turning her eyes to the fire, the Matriarch fell silent and seeing the change in her countenance, Laureal and her mother traded looks of concern.
“Grandmother, is something wrong?”
Emma drew a heavy breath, “Mr. Summerfield and I spoke for some time, and he conducted himself with courtesy as always. But even when he laughed, I could see he carried a burden of great weight. I knew what it was even though he did not want to tell me. I implored he do so. He said it could destroy your love for him. He fought to hold it in but, such was his burden, he was struggling so, I could not help but beseech him, that he might get it out and be done with it. And through tears, he told me.”
“Grandma…what did he tell you?” asked Laureal, her eyes welling up.
“He confirmed what we already know. He didn’t know that Cody had seen and told us what happened that day between your brother Cory and John.” Then with a trembling voice, “John gave his account of Cory’s final moments, and his story matched what Cody has told us.”
Jessie leaned forward in her seat. Her head went down into her hands and she began to weep.
“Mom,” cried Laureal, leaning in, wrapping arms and pressing together, their tears falling to the wood planked floor like the first drops of a gully washer in a rainy season.
Wiping at tears, Emma put one hand on her daughter’s shoulder, one hand on her granddaughter’s shoulder, and waited until the time was right to speak. And when at last it was right she spoke soft and sincere, “Jessie, I know your heart is broken. Laureal, I know your heart is broken. We are all broken. And, if I am to be fair, I must acknowledge that John’s heart is also broken. For even though he would never say so, it is because of his love for you, Laureal, that his heart breaks for what you have lost.”
Taking a moment to steel herself, Emma continued, “I could never have agreed to this if John had not proven himself to be the young man we’ve been hoping for. Crazy though it be…I have no doubt that Engel, my own dear husband who led the attack on John, would have loved him like a son.”
Emma let out a belated sigh. “What gives me pause is not John’s decision to defend himself but the terrible consequence of his decision that haunts my hope for your future, Laureal. You and John will face difficult trials, all couples do, and my concern is that these dreadful circumstances could worsen those trials.”
In the silence that followed, it was Jessie’s weeping that most stung Emma’s heart. Alas, trying to speak, the Matriarch choked up, her eyes flooding with tears, “I thank God that, in the midst of battle, the Spirit touched John’s heart, that we might keep our Cody!”
Having been drawn into the arms of her daughter and granddaughter, and also Mia who had come to huddle with them; Emma calmed and concluded with steadied voice, “Laureal, I know you have made your decision, and your family stands behind you. But we can never change the dreadful circumstances that surround John. And however fond I have become of John, however good a match I believe you and he could be outside of our reality, I cannot help but worry that these dreadful circumstances will amplify the challenges that all couples must face. Laureal, this is the time to ask yourself one last time: can you live with this?”
Laureal lifted her head from her mother’s shoulder and, with reddened eyes, gave her solemn reply, “Yes, grandmother, I can live with it.” Then, speaking to them all, “Our men were protecting what we need to survive. John was protecting what he needs to survive. And that’s the end of it!”
Laureal turned her eyes to the Matriarch, and for the first time, Emma saw the full woman coming though in her granddaughter.
“Let the future be what it will,” Laureal continued. “I will not ruin it with misplaced blame and resentment. Nor will I live in an unending state of confusion. I love John, that is all I know!”
The silence that followed was broken only by the sounds of a new day coming to life. The crackle of the breakfast fire. The birds singing their morning songs. The water in the little river, making its way around snags. The last hoot of an owl, retiring until the dark of night once again returned.
“We should be happy,” Jessie started, rising up as if to dig them out of a hole, wiping tears from her cheeks and eyes.
“Yes we should,” Emma seconded, also rising.
“I must go to John,” putting on her cloak, taking basket in hand.
“Daughter.”
“Yes mother,” turning from the open doorway.
“You and John take the day off. We love you. We are happy for you, and we are behind you. So remember us, remember how you were raised, and honor us. Be home before bedtime. And remember, you are not yet married and under no circumstance whatsoever are you to do as married couples do. Do you understand me, dear?”
“Yes, mother, I understand. And thank you, thank you all! I do not know what I would do without you! I love you so much!” spoken like a young woman that knows she is cherished and cared for. And in the next instant, she was gone.
As Laureal neared the aspen grove, she heard no noise of a man at work. No chopping, no dragging or throwing of branches upon the brush pile they had made. No sound whatsoever except for the rattle of dead leaves yet clinging in the autumn breeze high up in the oaks.
Upon reaching the grove, she saw it was empty. No sign of John Summerfield. No coat hanging on a limb, no horse, no tools. A moment of panic gripped her as she glanced about, and then, at last, she caught sight of him. Yet two long stone throws ahead, John sat on a log overlooking the river near their picnic spot, his elbows on his knees, his head turned to the ground.
“John!” Laureal called.
John came quick to his feet, his eyes fast to find Laureal coming up the path. She was walking with intent, then striding, and at last, setting her basket down, she broke into a run.
Straight into his arms she ran, straight into the open front of his wolverine long coat. Her hood fell back as she lifted her face to his, “I love you, John,” tears streaming from her eyes, “that’s all I know. I love you.”
“And I love you, Laureal,” wrapping his arms around her, bringing his lips to her ear, speaking soft but strong, “I love you with all my heart.”
How long they remained in one another’s arms cannot be known. Maybe five minutes, maybe a half hour. At such times, time cannot be measured. They did not get hot and heavy but just held on to one another like they would never let go.
