JOURNEY TO THE MIDNIGHT SUN
James Sheldon
LOVE CONQUERS ALL
Book 1 of 3
Chapter 9
The clouds moved in overnight, causing the morning sky to loom dreary and gray. The snow covered forest stood silent. A trail of smoke rose from the longhouse chimney to meld with the overcast, its only evidence, the scent of burning wood in the nostrils of our hero and heroine. Up the river they went with Ellie in tow. Their stomachs full, their bodies rested, a pair of youth chasing a dream.
“If we were married,” Laureal began, putting her arm in John’s “we could camp and stay the night.”
“This time of year? I would think you’d prefer the comfort of a hut.”
“I would, but we have to get married first,” smiling.
Up ahead, where the river disappeared around a bend, a tall cutbank of dark earth and roots stood under a crown of snow cornices. Directly above the cornices a grove of maple, their bare bodies juxtaposed against a low blanket of clouds, created a black and white simplicity relaxing to the eye.
“John, I would be happy even if all we had to begin with was a tent.”
“Oh yeah? I wonder how long that would last?”
“Hey you,” stopping and turning to him. “I’ve spent as much time in a tent as you have.”
“I doubt that.”
Laureal placed her hands on her hips, “When the men of our clan go hunting in the north, we women go with them. It’s a special time of year, and I always look forward to it.”
Having learned which skills belonged to men and which to women in Laureal’s world, John knew that building wickiups was woman’s work. Laureal, therefore, had a point. While the men hunted, the women built the hunting camps.
“I guess it makes sense that you would team up on extended hunts,” he acquiesced. “Still, you’re talking about summer. It’s winter now.”
“I know that!”
“I know you know! I’m just saying, it’s a different story when it's winter, and your spit freezes before it hits the ground.”
Laureal appeared surprised, “Have you been on the trail when it’s that cold?”
“Close enough to know it was damn cold!”
“John! Don’t curse!”
“Sorry. I apologize…again.”
“Apology accepted,” and smiling up at him suggestively, “You didn’t have a partner in your tent to help you stay warm.”
“Well, to be perfectly honest, I did.”
Laureal stepped back, “I did not need to hear that!”
“It was only a small dog…not very helpful.”
“John!”
(Laughing.)
“That wasn’t funny!” and turning away, she proceeded as if to leave him behind.
“Oh, come on,” walking after her.
They walked on in silence.
“Miss Emerson.”
“What?”
“May I please have your arm back?”
“You may not,” feigning indifference.
They continued walking.
“Here’s an idea,” said John. “When we get married, the aspen grove sits in a natural windbreak from the north. We can try our luck there some winter night, and if it gets too cold, we’d only be a mile from home.”
“It’s an idea,” as though she could take or leave it.
“When we get married,” he reiterated, carefully getting her arm in his.
Walking in a winter wonderland, being good medicine, helped our lovers get back on track. And that was good, for upon arriving to their work camp, they were all the more happy to find that not one of the ash poles had cracked during the drying process. Wisely perhaps, John refrained from calling it beginner’s luck, and Laureal refrained from claiming it part of a divine plan.
They chose the best two poles to serve as the sleigh’s runners. The four remaining ash poles, two on either side of the sleigh, would be turned with candy-cane ends facing down to fasten atop the ski runners. This would make an oval track shape when viewed from either side (like tracks on a bulldozer). The straight sections of the four curved poles would form the right and left rails of the sleigh’s floorboard. John planned to use a pair of straight poles to serve as shafts to attach horse and sleigh, including an evener. More straight poles would be cut for crossmembers. They only needed to build a functioning frame, the bare basics for having fun. Later, on John’s return, they could add a wicker seat, birch bark splashboard, side aprons, and rear panel. That was their plan at least. Presently, they shaved the candy cane poles at their mating surfaces, drilled them, and secured them with tapered dowel pins coated in hot pine glue (a method superior in strength to 21st century screws).
Next they cut the crossmembers which they planned to notch, drill, pin, and hot glue. They made the notches using bucksaw and hatchet. The hatchet served as a wood chisel, a piece of ash firewood used as a hammer with which to strike the chisel. In their excitement they made great progress so that by nightfall they had both sides assembled with cross members made and ready to install. Almost a bare-bones sleigh, save for a pair of shafts and an evener.
Leaving their camp intact, the lovers headed for home atop Ellie. The clouds had moved out again, which meant a cold night. The river before them gently curved through the forest, a silvery ribbon of snow glistening below a blanket of stars. Sure footed as always was Ellie. Her huge cleated shoes provided her excellent traction while not gripping so much as to injure her. Her ice cleats were not spikes. Rather, each shoe had very small squared-edged chunks of steel forge-brazed with bronze to its bottom. It was very effective, “Crush, crush, crush.”
As tired as they were satisfied, the lovers planned to take a day off from the bitter cold. By their calculations, they hoped to have a usable sleigh in one more workday and both were anticipating great fun. But then again, things do not always go as planned.
That same evening, it was nearly bedtime when Laureal came breathing heavily through the longhouse door, shed her coat, boots and overpants, then crossed the floor, climbed the ladder to the loft and fell into her bed where she lay weeping.
Below, Emma looked to Jessie, “She’s your daughter.”
Jessie went to the bottom of the ladder, “Sweetheart, what’s wrong?’
“Mom,” came a pathetic whimper.
Climbing the ladder, Jessie came to her daughter’s bedside, “Did you and John have an argument?”
“Yes.”
“Would you like to talk about it?” taking a seat on the edge of the bed, her face softly illuminated by a single oil lamp.
Nodding, Laureal whipped at tears, “All I did was suggest that because we women plan to go to our summer home in spring, I thought John and I should get married now. That way, come spring, we could all go north together.”
“And what did John say?”
“He said he cannot marry until he completes his mission. He said we should wait here until his return. He thinks it’s unsafe for us to travel alone. I didn’t want to push him, so I tried to explain how it would be better for us all if we went north together because we can help one another. It would be safer for us all. We might have to put his mission off until next winter, but with him having a base much further north than we are now, it would increase his odds for success. He got testy and that made Ellie antsy. We dismounted and had an argument on the ice. He lost his temper and began to shout. Ellie spooked. He spun to catch her but she got away and disappeared in the forest. John chased her and I was so upset, I climbed up the opposite bank and ran for home.”
“Where is he now?”
“I guess he went to find Ellie. He shouted for me to come back, but home was just round the bend and I kept running.”
“Sweetheart, I think it would be best if you went out there and helped him.”
“Mom,” beginning to cry all over again, “before I ran away John shouted that he’d have been better off if we’d hung him up by his feet,” the implication being that John would have been better off if the men had captured him, dragged him back to camp, and tortured him to death.
“He said that?”
“Yes,” squeaking.
“Well, I’m sure he didn’t mean it.” And with a sigh, “Sometimes, when lovers get angry, they say stupid things.”
“I never heard dad shout at you like that.”
“Oh, your father and I had our shouting matches. We just managed to do our yelling out of earshot, thanks to the wisdom of your grandparents.”
“I never knew that.”
“Someday,’ half-smiling, “you and John will leave your kids with me so you can go off in the woods and shout at one another.”
“Mom, that’s awful.”
“You and John will have more good times than bad, but there will be bad, and sweetheart, you know you have to take the bad to get the good.”
“I know that,” and, musing in thought, “I can take the bad…so long as it’s not too bad.”
“John shouldn’t have shouted at you, but these things happen. He’ll probably apologize before this night is over. And sweetheart, you have a part to play. There’s a reason he shouted. He’s frustrated. He has put his mission off repeatedly. You don’t want him to go, I understand that, but crazy as it may seem, you may be making him feel like he has no value. Perhaps you could improve the situation by making him something that will be useful in his mission.”
“I want to support him, mom. I helped him with his maps before we got engaged, or at least I helped as best I could,” knowing her grandmother had done most of the mapping work with John. And thinking further, “We gave him dad's furs. Other than that, I don’t know what I could make him. You’ve seen his stuff, he has everything.” And with a sigh, “I know, I’m making excuses. I’ll think of something. But mom, right now I just honestly believe it would be better for us all if we went north together. And if we’re going to do that, then John would be putting his mission off until next winter, and so, we may as well get married now.”
“Well, I think you’re right.”
“Really?”
“Yes, but after you suggest it, give him time to mull it over.”
Holding hands, mother and child shared a moment of silence while their minds wandered through past, present, and future. Then, from recollection, a smile crept upon Jessie’s lips, “Has grandma ever told you the story of Brant and Freya?”
“No, not that I recall.”
“Brant was hung by his feet after the men of our clan captured him trespassing in our territory. But as things turned out, according to the story anyway; Brant and your great-great-great aunt Freya had a long and happy life together.”
“Really? He wasn’t killed?”
“No, the clan adopted him. It rarely happens, but it did with Brant. Ask grandma, she knows the whole story.”
“They cut him down on my great-grandmother’s orders,” said Emma who, having quietly come up the ladder, leaned comfortably against the wide rail of the loft, observing the exchange between her girls.
“I was only a small girl. My memory of it is vague,” coming to sit on the edge of the bed, “but I know this; our men captured Brant and brought him to camp where they hung him up by his feet. My great-grandmother was Matriarch, and when she saw how handsome and well-made Brant was, and, more importantly, how he never let out a peep, never showed any pain or discomfort during all the poking and taunting but would throw a wicked punch at anyone that got near…she was impressed. She ordered him to be cut down and tied to a post.”
“What happened then, grandma?” sitting up with interest.
“My great-grandmother assigned your great-great-great aunt Freya to take care of Brant. Freya was a comely and well-mannered young lady near your age. She fed Brant, kept him company, and showed him kindness. Of course, being high spirited, Brant tried to chew through his sinew tether, but the men would only add more. Eventually, Brant had to make a choice. He could either chew sinew all day, or relax and be civil, and speak with dear Freya. They spoke for days, got to know one another. In fact, the last few days Freya slept out there. Not within Brant’s reach of course, as that would have been highly inappropriate. Anyway, when the men cut Brant free he ran off. But he came back several days later, hungry, cold, and longing for his Freya. He and Freya were married, and they lived happily ever after.”
“If only we could have adopted John like that,” Laureal sighed wistfully. “Dad and Cory, Grandpa, and cousin Norm would all be here with us. We’d be one big happy family.”
“Indeed,” said Emma, “I am certain John would have been spared if our men could have taken him alive. He would have fallen in love with you. Of that I can have no doubt. But, things didn't work out that way.”
Jessie stroked her daughter's hair, “We live in an imperfect world.”
“Far from perfect,” Emma seconded, ‘but when the Creator closes one door, he always opens another.”
“Yes, and sweetheart, hard as it may be to understand, any door the Creator opens will always lead to something better than before. And whomever he opens it for will walk through, unless, talked out of it by that voice that speaks from the dark.”
“That doesn’t mean what we had was bad,” Emma clarified. “We cannot know why the Great Spirit allowed disaster to befall us. Except that, he gives us free will and, here we are. We can still be grateful for what we had, and for what we still have. We have their memory and legacy. We have one another. We have our home. And what your mother says is true. The door that stands opens is a bigger door than the door that was closed. It always is. And here we are, at this very moment poised on its threshold. And even though we cannot see through to what lies beyond, there can be no doubt that it is greater than anything we have ever known.”
Laureal started out of bed, “I need to go and help John.”
“No, dear,” Emma ordered softly. “We can’t have you wandering the woods at night, especially in this bitter cold. John will find Ellie. He’ll have light to see his way, what with all the stars, and the snow reflecting the starlight.”
“What should I do?”
“Go to his cabin, build a fire, then come back here and wait for him,” said Jessie. “He’ll find Ellie and come home to you, I’m sure.”
“I hope so!”
“He’ll come home.”
“Is everything okay?” asked Mia, coming up the ladder, having just put the twins to bed.
“Yes, dear,” replied Emma, “just a little lovers spat.”
“Been there, done that,” said Mia, cautiously smiling.
“John’s coming,” said Cody from below, sitting by the hearth, listening to the women while carving a fish hook from the wishbone of a grouse.
Everyone listened and, in the silence, the sound of Ellie’s hooves came through the night, “Crush, crush, crush…” drawing nearer until, entering the courtyard, they could hear John’s footsteps as well. Next came the sound of his cabin door being opened and, after a moment, closing. Then, only silence.
“I need to go to him,” said Laureal, getting up, straightening her bangs and heading for the ladder, but no more had she got to the edge of the loft than the door opened and John stepped into the longhouse.
“Hello, Cody.”
“Hi, John.”
“Is Laureal here?”
Cody nodded to the loft. And John, looking up, saw Laureal, her face illuminated by firelight, stricken with a mixture of hope and anxiety.
“Laureal, I apologize for shouting. Can you forgive me?”
“Yes John, I can,” her countenance changed to one of great hope. And yet, with lingering anxiety, she asked, “Can you forgive me? I’m so afraid I will push you away.”
“You’re not going to push me away,” he replied as if the very thought were ridiculous. Then, pushing his hood back, “I’ve been thinking about what you said, and I think you might be right. I might lose a season, but if I were to spend the hunting season among your kinfolk in an advanced base of operation…well, it stands to reason that I would have opportunity to gather information which might prove invaluable. Plus I would have a new base, closer to my objective. Such things could make the difference between success and failure.”
Laureal could hardly believe her ears, “John…do you really feel that way?”
“Yes, I do.”
“Oh, thank God! Now we can be together so much longer! And John, your mission is important to me. And I promise to help you in any way I can!”
“Thank you, sweetheart. It means a lot to hear you say that.”
Jessie appeared beside Laureal at the rail, “John, this is wonderful news! We will feel so much safer with you along!”
“I’m glad to know you feel that way, Jessie. I thought about that very thing while out in the woods.” Then, lifting his hand as if to give an all-quiet signal even as he smiled, “I’ll be right back. I’ve got to get Ellie taken care of. Oh, and I’m going to stop and light a fire in my cabin so it can be warming up in there,” and turning for the door, “I’ll be back.”
“I’ll take care of the fire, darling,” said Laureal, hurrying down the ladder. “You see to Ellie. And we’ll meet back here.”
“Sounds like a plan,” and through the door he went with Laureal close behind, herself carrying a clay vessel in which she had stowed a few fire coals.
At the bottom of the longhouse steps, Laureal came alongside John, “Mr Summerfield, I love you so much!”
“I’m glad you do,” smiling.
Laureal held the smoldering vessel clear as she leaned in to kiss him. They were always kissing, occasionally fighting, but then, they were young and in love.
“Laureal.”
“Yes, John.”
“There’s something I need to tell you.”
“What?” at once curious, and a little worried.
“It’s nothing to worry about. It’s just that, before I got here, when I had gone to track Ellie down, I saw something. Something happened in the forest.”
“What did you see? Tell me!”
“I’ll tell you after I take care of Ellie. But you have to promise not to tell,” and with a kiss he pulled away and went to take care of his horse.
Laureal entered John’s cabin where she lit the hearth, lit an oil lamp, and arranged the caribou blankets on his bed. She then sat beside the fire, waiting and thinking until he came through the door.
“John, darling,” standing to meet him, “I want you to know that whatever comes, I am already so very happy, I can scarcely believe that you will be coming north with us.”
“It’s the right thing to do.”
“Is it what you want to do, John?”
“Yes,” affirmatively.
“Then it is a prayer answered,” her emerald eyes shining in firelight.
Seated together by the fire, Laureal lay her head on John’s chest. The fur of his caribou coat, so cool and yet, silky soft to the touch. She could feel the fire warming them. The pleasant crackling of fire logs. The aroma of the hearth, mixed with the fragrance of spruce boughs that padded his bed. She closed her eyes, the warm traces of firelight dancing on her eyelids.
Nearly falling asleep, Laureal lifted her head to see John’s eyes were closed, his jaw slacked, the upturned corners of his lips spoke to contentment.
“John?” she whispered.
He smiled fondly.
“Darling, does your decision to come with us have something to do with what you saw in the forest tonight?”
“I’m not sure,” turning his face to hers, “but it certainly got me thinking.”
“Well…are you going to tell me about it?”
“Yes, I just feel…well, I mean, here I’ve asked you to let up on the spiritual stuff, and you agreed. And now here I am about to put fuel on the fire.”
Laureal let out a sweet little laugh, “There’s no need to feel that way. Just forget about all of that and tell me what happened.”
“Well,” pulling himself up a bit, “when I saw you run around the bend I knew you were only a few steps from being safe at home. So I went to find Ellie.”
“I shouldn’t have run away,” frowning. “John, I’m so sorry.”
“I don’t blame you, I would have run away too.”
“No you wouldn’t have, but thank you for trying to make me feel better about it.”
“I shouldn’t have yelled at you.”
“True, but it all worked out, and here we are,” nestling to make herself comfortable, smiling in anticipation.
Drawing silent, John looked back a mere stone’s toss in time. His eyes filled with recollection. His broad chest rose up and fell like the changing of a tide.
“Ellie didn’t go far into the woods. I tracked her through the snow. When first I saw her standing amid the trees, I felt relieved and, I stopped and looked up. I don’t know why I looked up, I just did. I happened to be in a birch grove. All the limbs were bare of course and I was struck because the stars backlit the lattice to such a degree; what would otherwise have gone unnoticed appeared boldly pronounced and…I got this sixth sense kinda feeling, like something more was there. My eyes couldn’t see it and yet, it was as crisp as the air. What came next was, well, I’m certain it was only an illusion. I had become mesmerized. My eyes played tricks on me. The stars, they appeared to be as leaves in the trees.
“Ellie nickered and I snapped out of it. She was watching me. She wasn’t going anywhere. I looked back up to see the stars had returned to the sky but, whatever it was that I'd sensed, it remained. I can’t explain it but I’m sure there’s an explanation. Some phenomena yet to be discovered.
“Anyway, I started home with Ellie, and my thoughts turned to what you said. I was trying to figure out what to do. And all the while, this thing was there, in the silence of the forest, in the river beneath the ice, it was flowing under my feet, and up in the sky too…it was everywhere. I was walking in the eye of a hurricane, or at least that’s how it felt. Calm and quiet as a winter night could be, in the midst of power beyond my understanding.”
John shook his head, “I know I must sound crazy.”
The Seeker could not know that the night had only seemed perfectly still when in fact the earth and its forests spun with tremendous force while simultaneously flying with the moon and sun through space at well over a million miles per hour. Even in the rocks, electrons in orbitals raced around atoms at well over a million miles per hour according to the 20th and 21st century’s best and brightest scientific minds.
“You’re not crazy,” herself thinking on an entirely different level.
“You think not?”
“I’m certain of it.” And with a knowing smile, “You had a vision.”
“You think so?”
“Yes. Grandma has them all the time.”
