Midgård

The summer sun was beating down on her head as she sat outside the longhouse. Her back ached an d she could feel the baby pressing down on her pelvis. Soon it would be time. Soon.  The boy came running around the corner; his light, almost white hair caught the sun. With him came the grey dog, his constant companion. He stopped in front of her, panting. The dog jumped around him a few times, his pink tongue hanging out of the side of the mouth. 

“Mor.” The boy put a hand on her leg. “Will he be home today?” Gudrun caressed her son’s gleaming hair.

“Any day now.” The boy looked up at her with dark blue eyes. The same eyes as his father.

“Can I go down to the shore and look for the ships?”

She knew he missed his father as much as she missed her man. She knew he was anxious to see the sails in the horizon, grow bigger and bigger until you could hear them beat in the wind. Hear the men call out to each other. See his face again. He would wave from the ship, jump in the water and run to them as they waited by the shore.

“Yes you can but…” The word but made her son roll his eyes. “You have to bring your sister and Torbjörn with you.”

“Mor…” he started complaining. She reached out and took a handful of his hair in her hand. She didn’t pull hard enough for it to hurt but he knew that there was no point complaining anymore. She let go, smoothed the hair with her palm. “I can’t have Torbjörn around my feet all day, you know that.” He sighed deeply. “And,” she continued, “take one of the baskets and pick some blueberries on the way. Ask Marya for some bread to bring along.” The dog lifted his ears when he heard the name Marya. The dog was clever, knew where he could get food.

“Loki,” the boy said and the dog was instantly at his heels. Both of them took off running like before. Gudrun was  about to lean back against the wall once more when she remembered.

“Sune!” she called and the boy stopped. “Don’t let Torbjörn eat too many blueberries or sand.”

The boy and the dog disappeared around the corner of the house. The child inside of her kicked hard against her ribs. She had to put a hand on the foot and press. Please stay in there until Valdemar is home. Please. The only time she had giving birth without Valdemar at shore it had ended gravely. After Sune, the first one, she had given birth to a strong, angry girl less than a year later. The third one, a thorn still stung her heart when she thought about the third one.  The rain pounded the house that day. Everything was damp even though it was in the middle of the summer and the child did not want to come out. She pushed and pushed but no. Eventually the midwife had crawled in between her legs, put a hand inside of her and pulled the child out. Oh, this child. Transparent, red haired. No fierce cry. Only a whimper.

She had put this child to her breast, weakly she suckled and then she fell asleep. The midwife said to keep the child close, let the child rest. She wasn’t sure when she realized that this life would never last. She stroked her breasts, forced small of drops of her milk into the child’s mouth. Five days later the rain stopped. A rainbow grew across the sky when the sun broke through the clouds. The child lay in her arms, more transparent than before. Eyes closed and she simply stopped breathing.

When Valdemar came home Gudrun lay in bed with her face against the wall. Didn’t speak. Didn’t eat. Didn’t tend to her children. He tried to talk to her but she didn’t respond. She laid, in a state of neither sleep nor wakefulness. Until one morning, she felt someone crawl over her and Sune pressed himself in between the wall and her body. He strung his arms around her neck and placed his head under her chin.  His breath against her skin. He lay still and quiet for a long time.

“Mor,” he whispered, “I don’t like Marya’s porridge. Can you make me some?”

She opened her eyes, looked down at his golden head, put her nose on his hair and breathed in. He smelled of the woods, of the fireplace and the sea.  He smelled like life.

When she felt stronger again she had walked across the forest, across the yielding grounds of the moor to her father. He had fallen into trance for her. Searched for the little transparent girl in the spirit worlds. When he came back he told her that the little girl was trapped. Held back by Gudrun’s love and yearning. Couldn’t move into Gimle. Stuck in between. All the little girl wanted was to be allowed to leave. She was never supposed to be here. Her father taught her a croon. A few words, a few lines, rhyming, easy to remember. Every time she thought of the little girl she would repeat the croon. Soon the words would take over the place in her mind and the girl would be set free. Her mind let go faster than her body and for years no child would stay long enough to be born. Until Torbjörn. Robust, howling, suckled until her nipples bled.

 

“Tova! Tova! Where are you?” Sune had the basket in one hand, the leather satchel with bread in the other and Torbjörn behind him toddling as fast as the short legs would let him. They had been searching for their sister everywhere. First down by the pigs, sometimes she went down there and talked to the pigs. Fed them leftovers and scratched them behind their ears. In the winter when it was time for slaughter and sacrifice she hid in the house. She could not stand to see the blood steaming in the cold air. He laughed at her, teased her, happy the fearless girl was scared of something.  Then he had walked to the horse corrals and even taken an extra turn around the beehives. He had sent Torbjörn in to the henhouse and the storehouse, Tova was nowhere to be seen. Finally he spotted her sitting on top of the root cellar in the shade under the old oak tree.

“Tova!” he screamed and she stood up, “We are going to pick blueberries and go down to the shore to look for the ship. And Mor said you had to come.”

The girl ran down the side of the root cellar, her braids bounced on her back. She grabbed the basket as she ran by him.  Loki yelped out of excitement and ran after her. Sune started to run but Torbjörn let out a howl and he had to slow down to let the little boy catch up.

The tall pine trees gave enough shade to make the forest pleasant compared to the bright sunshine. The pine needles had turned the trail into a copper snake; it slithered around the blueberry bushes. The bushes were  covered in big, dark blue, almost black berries. Tova was already picking  and dropping the berries into the basket. The dog lay on the trail with tiny forest flies all around his warm body.

“Don’t eat too many blueberries,” Sune said to Torbjörn. “Not good for your stomach.” He poked the little boy in his round, soft belly.

His fingers got red from the berries and they had attracted the mosquitoes. He watched one land on his arm, pierce his skin with its trunk and drink his blood.  The back part of the body grew, turned from grey to brilliant red.  He started to get tired of picking. He wanted to go down to the shore, look at the horizon and search for the first sign of the ships. The dog could sense his restlessness, walked around him with his tail wagging. Egging him on.

“Let’s go down to the shore,” he said and started to walk down the trail. Tova didn’t stop picking, when she had started she could keep going forever. Her eyes got glazed over and she didn’t seem to hear or notice anything.

“Tova,” he raised his voice and the girl lifted her head. “I am going down to the water.”

Torbjörn with a reddish blue circle around his mouth started to walk after him but Sune started to run.

“Une! Une!” the little boy screamed, but he pretended not to hear.

 

He came down to the shore and the dog ran straight out in the calm, warm summer water. Sune sat down on the rocks and put his feet in.  Loki came up and sat next to him, the water dripping from his long fur.

“Should we scare them?”

The dog’s tail started to pound the rock when he heard the anticipation in the boy’s voice.

The boy and the dog walked back on the trail again and hid behind a big moss covered stone. He held his arms around the dog and whispered in its ear.

“Soon, soon, when they come walking we jump out and scream. Soon, soon.”

Sune heard Tova’s voice long before he saw them. She was singing loud and clear in the forest.

“Bridges and stones. Bridges and timber. No one can cross. No one can cross. Till you tell me your beloved’s name. What is his name?”

The dog shivered in his arms.

“Soon,” he murmured. Torbjörn came first, tottered, fell and got up again. Tova carried the basket with the berries in one hand and the leather satchel with the bread in the other. He slowly released the grip around the dog’s body. Both of them jumped down on the trail. The dog barking and the boy shouting. Torbjörn sat down on his behind and started to cry terrified. Tova let out a high pitched scream, dropped the basket on the ground and the berries rolled out. Her face got red.

“Sune,” she growled. “You and your stupid dog. Look at the berries!”

Even though he was older she was taller and stronger than him. Her hand turned into a fist and she waved it at him.

“I will punch you in the face if you don’t pick them up.”

He was wise enough to take her threat seriously. A punch from her wouldn’t be as bad as his mother’s anger though. He sat down and started to pick up the berries and put them into the basket again, he sang softly  as he worked.

“Tova got scared. Tova got scared. Tova got scared.”

She smacked him on the back of his head and he stopped singing.

“Torbjörn and I will go down to the water. Come when you are done.”

 

Tova pulled the dress over her head and helped Torbjörn with his tunic. She took the small boy in her arms and walked into the sea. The water was soothing against her skin. She opened her hand and dropped a piece of bread, watched it slowly sink.

“Ran, Aegir and your daughter’s nine. Bring home my father in soon time.”

Morfar had taught her the croon last summer and every time she went down to the shore she recited it four times.  Torbjörn splashed with his chubby hand in the water.

”Ran, Ran,” he said and smiled.

“Yes, Ran will bring him home.”

 

After she had played with Torbjörn in the water she handed him over to Sune and she started to swim.  Dived down into the murkiness.  Touched the dark rockweed and the glowing light green seaweed. Came up when her lungs hurt. Swam to the cliff and climbed up. Squeezed her fingers and toes into crevices, she never fell. At the top she looked down at her brothers. Torbjörn and Loki had curled up on the grass and were sleeping. Sune looked up at her; she knew he wanted her to look out over the sea. See if she could spot the ships. She craned her neck, squinted, strained but had to shake her head to him. She backed up and ran to the edge and jumped. Flew through the air and landed in the water with a splash. Felt the bubbles around her body, heard them crack as she pushed her way up again.

Sune watched the bubbles,  waiting for her to resurface. The water scared him, the unknown down there. The seaweed that grabbed his leg. Morfar had said that the spirits would leave him be if he wasn’t scared. But he didn’t trust himself so he stayed on land. The water broke and Tova’s head showed up. Her light blonde hair was darker now when it was wet. She waved to him as she swam to the cliff again.

She climbed up again, craned her neck, squinted and strained. Something was out there on the horizon, a small dark line of something. She squinted some more, it wasn’t a trick of the eye. Something was out there. Was it Far and his ships? She couldn’t tell yet but she turned around and nodded to Sune. He jumped up excitedly and ran to the cliff. When Loki tried to follow he told the dog to stay with the sleeping Torbjörn.

He climbed up and joined his sister. She pointed to the spot on the horizon. He squinted and strained. The spot grew slowly, eventually turning into four spots. The spots took form into four ships.

“It is him!” Sune exclaimed and grabbed his sister’s hand. “It is him!”

Tova nodded and pressed his hand.

“We have to tell Mor.”

Gudrun leaned against the wall when the children came running from the woods. For the last few hours she couldn’t deny anymore that this child wanted to enter this world, sooner rather than later. Tova carried Torbjörn on her back and the dog bounced around them.

“We saw them! We saw them!” Sune shouted.

Her womb contracted hard and the pain shot down her legs.

“He is coming home,” she said and caressed her stomach. “Welcome to the world.”