Ӕgir's Captive Pt. 14

That was pretty much exactly what the little girl did the moment that the car stopped in front of the house. She fumbled with the seat belt until Kirsty assisted her, then she was pushing past her father and trying to open the door. He smiled at her efforts and opened it. And she was off...like the horses out of the gate at Ascot.

The rest of them piled out of the car. Petrine reached for her once more, taking her hand, "You, guys, go and help Sven and Bjorn. Kirsty and I will go after Monika. It will give me a chance to show her around a bit."

Mikael was scowling...again. But his father did not give him a chance to say anything as he put his hand on his shoulders and guided him towards the dock that she could see behind the house.

Petrine turned to her and smiled once more, "Well, that was easier than I thought it would be. Walk with me and we can have that talk. Monika will be in her play area near my greenhouse. It is just over there," she said as she nodded towards a stand of trees. The undergrowth had been cleared out so Kirsty would not consider it a forest but the mix of hard wood and conifers stood like centurions guarding the gates of this place.

She found herself following along after the woman, looking around as she went. Quiet, peaceful, tranquil...none of them seemed to adequately describe this place. She inhaled deeply smelling the mixture of loom, pine and the sea. This place, nature, relieved some of the tension inside of her.

When they came out of the trees into a clearing, she could almost imagine it blooming with wildflowers in a few months. But now, it was preparing for the winter which lay ahead, the grass tall and tan as it blew in the brisk late autumn winds. As the woman had said the little girl was happily swinging on a play set that was larger and much more elaborate than the one at the school. What was more, she noticed a pink wooden play house, a sand box and a tricycle strewn about the area.

"My sons spoil her as you can see," smiled the woman. She reached out a hand and brushed back a strand of hair that the wind had blown into Kirsty's eyes. Or that was the excuse she was using for the tears that burned her eyes at that moment.

Then she was wrapped in those arms. She had no choice but to go as the woman held her tightly. "Let it go, sweetie. Let it all out," those were the words that Kirsty felt she had waited a lifetime to hear. In that sweet maternal way that she had always imagined. She could not fight it. Any more than she could fight Bjorn when he looked at her that way. It all came out then. A life time of tears that 'good girl' had held back.

She did not know how long they stood there like that. Her crying and blubbering over this woman, who was a stranger. But when she came to her senses, she tried to pull back. Looked down embarrassed at the muddy ground, "I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me," she mumbled.

The woman laughed, "My sons, I imagine. They can be a bit...overwhelming."

Kirsty reluctantly looked up at her with a smile. Somehow as hard as she fought it, she felt connected to this woman. It was different, of course, but the feeling was just as strong as she had felt that day when she looked up into Sven's face as he pulled her through the turnstile. And the smile, on the woman's face that still shone with the beauty of her youth even through the lines, wrinkles and silver hair, said that she felt it too.

They stood silently watching the child play for a couple of minutes. It was odd. Most people would be uncomfortable with such things, but this was not like that at all. It was as if the silence spoke louder than any words could. It was that silence that finally gave her the courage to ask the question...one of them anyway...that had been on her mind at least for the past hour or so, "What did that man say?"

Petrine turned to her and sighed heavily, "My sons would not want me to answer that question. But I never liked the way that they and their fathers always tried to shield me from such things. I don't get the feeling that you do either. I will tell you...it was not pretty. But if you honestly want to know I will tell you," this time her smile was tighter as if this weighed as heavily upon her as it did upon Kirsty.

She looked over to where the child played carelessly upon the swing. She wanted to be like that...in her own world, oblivious to it all, not caring what anyone said. But as much as she wanted that, she could not overcome the trainings of a lifetime where what other people thought mattered more than what you wanted. "I am not sure I want to know, but I need to, don't I?" she asked turning back to the older woman.

"As wise as you are beautiful, my boys did well," this smile reached those dancing green eyes that she had gifted to her youngest son. Then they clouded over once more, "My Swedish is not quite as good as my Finnish, so I cannot say word for word, but the gist of it was...asking if my sons had found another whore to service the lot of them and breed another generation of mongrels. That if you wanted to enjoy real men they would 'entertain' you for a bit."

Kirsty had not known what she expected but something so vitriolic was beyond even that. She felt her knees begin to buckle as her hand flew to her mouth and tears stung her eyes once more, "Oh my god," was all she could say.

The woman lifted her, just held her for a long moment. She trembled as those words played through her mind, but there did not seem to be any more tears inside of her. Finally, the woman pulled back just enough so that she could stare into her face.

"It has been over four decades, sweetie, since I visited your home land. But do you know what struck me the most when I traveled there?" Kirsty shook her head as the woman continued though Kirsty was not sure what any of this had to do with what was paramount in her mind, "No one smiled. You could walk down the streets of your London. Pass thousands of people, all the same, their heads down as they rushed about...and not a single smile from any of them."

She turned her back so that Monika filled her cloudy vision, "Worst of all, I remember the children. Tiny little things. All dressed exactly alike in their grey wool skirts and shorts. Stiff white shirts buttoned up and matching sweaters. I remember them too marching in their lines early in the morning to school." She paused and brushed back that hair which once more had blown into Kirsty's face, "And none of them smiled either."

"Life comes at a price. It always will, sweetheart. Those sons of mine are the direct descendants of the Jarls and Kings that once ruled these islands. Like those strong men, they make their own rules. And like the villagers and warriors than once followed their ancestors, few people have the courage to call them on it. Oh, it happens, like today, but that is rare. But I will not lie to you...making your own rules comes at just as high a price as following everyone else's."

She sighed and studied Kirsty's face. She wanted to look away, feared that this woman would find her lacking, inferior, not good enough for those kings that she had born and raised to be such men, each fine in his own way. But as much as she wanted to look away, this woman deserved so much more than that, so she met that gaze just as boldly.

"Kirsty, if that life is what you truly want, then I will personally take you to the main land. Place you on a plane and see you safely back there. I promise you not a one of my sons will dare cross me on this one. But like me, I don't think that is what you want. I believe that you are willing to pay the price...and trust me it is a relatively small one...for making your own rules," she finished.

Her words shook Kirsty's world like an earth quake. Somehow this woman had looked into her very soul and hit upon the very dilemma that haunted her. Not just for the past few days, but a lifetime. The only difference was that now she had an option besides merely pushing on with all the others, unsmiling and unhappy. The past three days she had seen that, they had given her that. This woman's sons. But did she have the courage to take it? That was the question.

"How do you do it?" she whispered.

The woman's laughter was rich and as fragrant as this place, like coming home...and that was how she felt. For the first time in her life, Kirsty could almost believe this place, this woman, her sons...it could be home. If she had the courage to reach out and take it.

"Mostly, I ignore it. The other thing is that I make myself indispensable to them. There are not too many things that I learned from the few times my grandparents drug my wild ass to their strict Pentecostal church when I visited them in the summer. But one was something about kindness heaping burning coals on the heads of your enemies. I always liked that image," she winked.

"When I first got here like you, I did not speak either Finnish or Swedish. English, some French and a few words of German were all I had to get me by. But it did not take me long to figure out that these people were talking behind my back. It bothered me. But then again I was only in town a couple of times a month to shop. So I was happy to just pretend I did not see their stares...I still do sometimes," Kirsty realized then that this woman had not been as ignorant of those men in the store as she had seemed.

"When Sven went to school, it all came to a head. He was already reading by then. With his fathers at sea, I had long periods alone with my son...and five almost six years before Mikael came along. So I sent him to school reading and doing basic math, way ahead of the other children. So I was not worried too much. But when I picked him up that afternoon, he had a split lip and a black eye. The principal, head master I think you would call him, met me at the door. There had been a fight. Sven was suspended for three days," she frowned at the memory.

"Poor kid," Kirsty frowned, trying to even imagine Sven as a child was beyond her.

Petrine laughed again, "Poor Sven my ass. My son might have had a black eye, but the bully who was three years older had a broken arm. When I got my son home, lecturing him all the way about not fighting mind you, he did not want to tell me what happened. It was Stig, who finally got it out of him, including the words 'whore' and 'slut.' That was the only day that any of my boys spent in that school. And she won't either," the woman said nodding towards the child.

"So again I ask...how do you do it?" Kirsty felt weighed down by the isolation this woman must have felt, perhaps still did.

But the smile on her face said she was anything but to be pitied. "I had my boys and their fathers," Kirsty blushed as she could well imagine what that secretive smile truly meant. "And Stig built me my greenhouse," she said as she nodded towards the glass building that was truly the size of a small house. Kirsty saw shadows across the woman's face and wondered what she was thinking...was she remembering those days? Happiness that was gone? The man who had built it? She tried to imagine how she would feel in this woman's shoes but it was more than she could manage.

Tears glistened in the woman's green eyes when she turned back to her, "And once Bjorn was older and took to the sea, well, I found things to keep me busy. I teach in that school now. Not full time mind you, but I instruct the older ones in creative writing and ancient mythology every year. I also work with the local nurse practioner, we are too small to have a doctor here. But we can handle most things. A lot of my plants these days are medicinal and I dry those and share them with those in need. I am even the first one there with a cake when someone dies or a new baby is born. I have not worked up the nerve to go to church yet...afraid I might go up in flames with my pagan self," she laughed.

She looked her in the eye as she continued, "But they take it all, the people in the village. Adelaide Johansen is the worst, biggest gossip of them all. Yet without my sons picking up stock for her on their journeys that store of hers would be closed down like so many of the other shops have in other villages." Kirsty nodded once more trying to imagine how that made this woman feel...her sons too.

But she continued her story without pausing, "I feel their eyes on my back when I walk away though. I hear their whispers. And I hold my head high, knowing that none of them have been as loved or as happy as I have been for a lifetime. It is not easy, but then again nothing worth having ever is. So I ask again, do you want me to fight Olaf for the keys?"

"Fight my boys, knowing that I am hurting them more than they already have been? Because I will, if this is not the life you want. I have had one 'daughter-in-law' that could not...or did not want...this life. And she tore my boys to pieces, opened chasms in them that are still growing larger. If you honestly want your old life back, if you cannot allow yourself to love them, then tell me now...and I will. You have my word on that," her face reminded her of Sven when he got that 'look,' the one that withered her inside, that said he knew everything in her mind.

Kirsty felt as if this was the single most important moment of her life. As if she stood at a crossroads and everything rested upon which she took. She weighed what the woman said...and all that she had not. And she shook her head slowly, "No, no, I don't want to go back."

Petrine beamed then. The woman glowed from within, like one of those cheesy movies where the angel reveals itself with backlighting. Then once more Kirsty was absorbed into those arms. This embrace was tighter than all the others. As if the woman did not want to let her go, her words seemed to confirm that, "I have waited a life time for this moment. Wanted a daughter for so long. Welcome home, Kirsty. Welcome home."

It was the woman who was crying uncontrollably then. And while she tried, Kirsty was not sure she did a very good job of comforting her...she did not have much experience with such things. Her meager efforts must have worked though because then she was laughing.

"All right then, you need some lessons on how to control those guys. You need to learn...you are the one in control now. And you need to use that control wisely. Oh, we have so much to talk about," the years melted away from her face and in addition to be what Kirsty had always imagined a mother should be, Petrine became the girl friend that she had never really had. That best friend with whom you shared everything.

Maybe she was right...maybe this life would not be so bad after all.