A Grave Too Small Read online

CHAPTER 4

  The sky was overcast and gloomy, ominous clouds were boiling up over the horizon, it wouldn’t be long before lightening would strike and the rain and sleet would come plummeting down over the new little house in the cove.

  “I don’t know what else to do, the fever is so high and Jenna’s so little,” sobbed Elsa, “can’t we send for the doctor?”

  Olav sat at the kitchen table his head in his hands, not seeing the plain room, not hearing his wife’s pleading voice.

  He didn’t have any money, none at all. He couldn’t call the doctor, how could he pay? No one would say Olav Gunderson accepted charity, he always paid his way. But he couldn’t fish until the storm passed, it might be days. By that time his beautiful golden haired daughter would be dead. She was the most important thing in both their lives, she was perfect. Why was God punishing them, what had they had done wrong?

  What was the use, soon she’d be gone.

  Ever since Elsa gave birth to their twin daughters nine years ago, life had become a constant ordeal.

  One child, thought Olav, as he sat staring at the rain running in sheets down the kitchen window, so bright and loving, the other twisted and full of evil. They should have put Grunhilda outside and allowed her to die. That’s what my Mother would have done if she was here, and she would have been right. But Elsa had such a soft heart and wouldn’t hear of it.

  “We’ll manage,” said Elsa, and they did for a while.

  Olav and Elsa knew when Grunhilda was born; they’d have to hide her. It was a shameful thing to have such a child, people wouldn’t understand why they let her live.

  They cared for Grunhilda the best way they could. When they were finally able, they built the house in the cove on the Fraser River. Olav made the little girl a room in the attic and no one knew she was there, except little cousin Muriel who came to play with the bright and shinning twin.

  Grunhilda was upset that night because she knew there was something wrong with Jenna. She was the only one Grunhilda loved, she worshiped her sister.

  Grunhilda howled like she was the one in pain and threw herself about the kitchen banging into the walls and stove in her grief. She kept running in and out and slamming the back door, the rain and cold coming in the door was going to affect Jenna.

  He couldn’t take it anymore…

  He stood up and slapped her with the back of his hand; he hadn’t meant to hit her so hard, but she fell backward out the door and tumbled down the stairs into the cold rain.

  While Elsa was putting cold cloths on Jenna’s feverish forehead, she looked around for her other daughter.

  “Grunhilda, come here this minute,” she called still concentrating on the sick child.

  But Grunhilda didn’t come.

  Olav, sopping wet came in from outside and stood by the kitchen table and slammed it with his calloused fist. Rain water dripped from his hair and mixed with the tears that coursed down his face and drizzled into his beard. Nothing went right in this God forsaken place!

  How was he going to tell Elsa what he had done?

  His thoughts turned to those first days when he and Elsa were married in Langesund. She was just sixteen and the most beautiful girl in the whole of Norway. She could have had any one of the many suitors that came to call, but she chose him and he was so proud. He would make a good life for her; he knew he just needed the chance. Olav was the sixth son in the family and had no hope of an inheritance, so when the opportunity came to go to the new world, he jumped at the chance.

  When they came to this cruel land from Norway, they were so young and full of plans. But the harsh work began to tell on Elsa, and they accepted that they wouldn’t have any children. But one day when she had almost given up, a miracle happened. They were so happy, the future was finally bright.

  The two of them spent joyful days looking for the perfect spot to build their new home. Somewhere Elsa could have a garden and maybe, someday, a cow. Somewhere Olav could keep his fishing boat, where it would be sheltered from the rain and snows of winter.

  Finally they found the cove. The ravine running down the side meant fresh clean water all year long. The small meadow was big enough for a house and garden, and there was even the ideal place for an apple tree. It was perfect.

  They both knew they would have to live on the barge house at the foot of Annieville Hill a little longer, at least until spring but especially till Elsa had her baby. Her spirits lifted and she blossomed into motherhood, but she also had a secret that she couldn’t bring herself to tell Olaf. She was much heavier than she should have been. What if she was having twins?

  Heaven forbid!

  Twins were a terrible hardship. Many times there wasn’t enough milk for two babies and the parents would have to choose which twin to put outside and allow to die.

  Please God, Elsa prayed, not twins, please, not twins.

  How can I tell Olav?

  The time finally came and Elsa sent Olaf to the neighbours to call her good friend Miriam Erickson to come and help with the delivery. She was pregnant too, but she still had a few more months to go and after three children of her own Miriam knew what to do.

  When she got there and saw Elsa, she knew her delivery would be very hard, and the two women promised if anything happened, they would look after each other’s children.

  Many hours later Miriam finally held up the first baby girl, Elsa was ecstatic, but when she was shown the second child and how deformed it was, she made Miriam promise never to tell anybody. As far as anyone else was concerned, Elsa had only one baby, and it was a girl.

  Olav was stricken when he saw the two babies. There would never be enough milk for both children. And when he saw how deformed one baby was, he grabbed her and was about to throw her overboard but Elsa cried and pleaded with him not to. “I’ll hide her,” Elsa promised, and she did.

  Coming out of his reverie Olav, with tears in his eyes finally went down the steps to look at his poor misshapen daughter sprawled in a heap at the foot of the steps.

  He went to the shed and picked up his shovel, paced back and forth in front of the house unmindful of the snow that was falling covering him and the little house. Finally he went to the water’s edge and looked at the river, but there was no comfort there either. At last he went to the small apple tree he planted that fall and started to dig a hole.