[Song of Alaska 02] - Morning's Refrain (33 page)

P
hoebe had never been so angry. After apologizing to Yuri and promising Dalton would come to see him, she stormed upstairs to their apartment and paced the floor for nearly an hour. She kept thinking that Dalton would return, and when he didn’t, she was further enraged.

“Of all the selfish, stupid things,” she muttered, marching back down the stairs to the alley. She figured Dalton had returned to work or else had gone to his folks’ house. Either way, she would find him.

She marched at a quick pace to the land where the new log structure—her house—was nearly ready. She heard pounding from within and figured that at least someone was there working.

Kjell met her at the door with a smile. “Hello. I thought you might be heading this way.”

“I’m here to see your pig-headed son,” she announced.

Her father-in-law pointed to one of the interior rooms. “Mr. Pig-headed is in there. Oh, you should also know for future reference that he’s a great jumper.”

“Jumper?” Phoebe asked, her brows knitting together.

He nodded. “Yes. He jumps to conclusions quite easily.”

The meaning was instantly clear. “Well, this is one time he shouldn’t have.” She brushed past Kjell. “He had no call to act that way.”

Ignoring her father-in-law’s chuckles, Phoebe followed the sounds of the hammering. Dalton was affixing a wooden mantel in place over the living room fireplace when Phoebe came upon him.

He straightened and turned to face her. “Are you here to explain and apologize?”

“How could you! How could you just storm off in a huff and not even acknowledge me?” She stopped and flailed her arms in the air as she realized what he’d just asked her. “Me? Me apologize? You’re the one who jumped to conclusions and ran off.”

“I saw you leading my enemy to our apartment,” Dalton said matter-of-factly.

“Since when has Yuri become your enemy? You stomp and snort around the house day and night bemoaning the fact that something has gone horribly wrong in your friendship. I was sick and tired of the stiff-necked pride between the two of you, so I went to Yuri myself. And now this. You should be ashamed of yourself.”

“Me?” Dalton looked indignant. “Why should I be ashamed? I saw my wife with my former best friend.”

Phoebe crossed her arms. “You’d better be careful with what you’re implying, Dalton Lindquist. You think you have trouble now, but you haven’t seen me with a full head of steam. I invited Yuri to join us for lunch. Remember, I knew you would be coming home for lunch. Why would I have a dalliance with your best friend in our apartment when I knew you would either already be there or come shortly after? If I were you, I’d swallow my stupid pride and get around to apologizing for what you’re accusing me of doing.”

Clenching her jaw, Phoebe determined not to say another word until he begged her forgiveness. Dalton seemed surprised by her attitude, but for several moments he simply stared at his wife as if trying to figure out what was right and what would serve to get him into more trouble.

Phoebe was already contemplating what she would do if he refused to see reason. She supposed she would just go home to her mother. After all, there was no hope for a marriage where trust didn’t exist.

Dalton turned away and walked to the window. The large window had been specially ordered to give them a perfect view of the water and islands. Watching him stand there, Phoebe couldn’t help but wonder what was going on in his head. Did he even care that he’d hurt her feelings? Did he understand that he had wronged her? All she had wanted was to see him and Yuri work through their issues.

Finally Dalton let out a heavy sigh. “I am sorry, Phoebe. I let my temper get the best of me. I know you weren’t doing anything wrong, and for me to imply such a thing makes me a beast.”

“An ignorant beast,” she corrected.

He turned and nodded, his eyes piercing her with his sorrow. “An ignorant beast.” He came forward and stopped short of taking hold of her. “I’m truly sorry. Please forgive me.”

“I do, but please know that we’re headed for a lot of problems if you are always inclined to believe the worst of me.”

He gently touched her face, and some of the anger left Phoebe’s heart. “I know. I promise that I won’t let it happen again.”

She nodded. “Very well. Now, can we talk about Yuri?”

“All right.” Dalton dropped his hold. “What do you want to say?”

“He’s in trouble, Dalton. He needs you more than ever. I won’t divulge what he told me—it’s his to share—but you mustn’t wait. Please go to him and let him explain.”

“It sounds serious.”

“It is. I visited Yuri to make him see that if he had ended his friendship with you because of me, he had no grounds. I have never encouraged anything more than friendship, and he was wrong to believe there was more. He agreed. Then the longer we talked . . . well . . . there are some very dangerous things going on in his life and he needs you.”

“If this has to do with his drinking and gambling, I already know about those bad habits. I’ve tried to encourage him to do otherwise, but he hasn’t listened. I can’t see that he’ll listen now.”

“No, especially if you won’t talk to him.”

Dalton’s look was one of reproach. “I hardly see that his sins are my fault.”

“No one said they were,” Phoebe countered. “But if we see our brother in need and do nothing . . . well . . . isn’t that like Jesus saying that what we do to the least of these, we do to Him?”

She could see her statement had hit its mark. Dalton moved away and picked up his hammer before replying. “I don’t think Yuri even cares about such things.”

“Maybe not,” Phoebe fired back, “but you do. Even if Yuri isn’t a Christian—even if he doesn’t believe the way we believe—we are held to a certain standard. We are called to go after the one that leaves the flock. To seek the lost souls and share the good news. Have you ever talked to Yuri about his eternal soul?”

Dalton grinned. “You sound like a preacher now.”

Phoebe put her hands on her hips. “Well, maybe it’s time one of us did.”

He held up his free hand. “I see your point and concede. You’re right. You have adequately shamed me.”

She softened and came to where he stood. “That was never my intent. My hope was that you would see the truth. Yuri is dying, in a sense. It’s no different from when I was drowning in the harbor and you saved me. He needs you, Dalton. You can’t give up on him. You just can’t.”

“So is it true, Aunt Zee, that the Tlingit shamans have special powers?” Britta asked.

Zee smiled at the child and glanced at Lydia. “I suppose they think they do.”

“Well, do they or not?”

Kjerstin rolled her eyes. “You are being silly. Nobody but God has powers.”

“Your sister is right, Britta. God alone holds the power to do anything,” Lydia replied. “However, sometimes when people seek Him and His will, He allows them the ability to do things they might not otherwise have been able to do.”

“Like when the disciples healed people?” Britta asked.

Her mother nodded. “If the shamans seek God and put Him first in their life, they might find the same ability, but it’s not something they can do by themselves.”

“And sometimes there are evil powers,” Kjerstin said and looked at her mother. “Isn’t that so?”

“Yes. There are evil powers at work in this world,” their mother stated. “Satan is always looking for someone to deceive and destroy.”

Zee handed Britta the dish towel the girl had been embroidering. “Your work is coming along quite nicely.” She sat down across from the child. “Britta, the native people here have lived for generations upon generations with their own stories of creation and how the world has come to be.

“But many of the Tlingit have come to believe in Jesus, as we do. I know I’ve spoken harshly of the mission school in the past, but I’m starting to see some of the good that has come from it. Many of the children would not have had a chance to get away from superstitious beliefs and practices had they not been forced to live at the school. While I have great sorrow that they should have to give up all of their cultural practices, I suppose I’m better able now to see the benefits they have also enjoyed.”

Britta frowned and seemed to consider Zee’s words for a moment. “But if they love Jesus then they will be able to do great things—right?” She looked to her mother. “You said that Jesus told the disciples that after He went to heaven they would be able to do even greater things than He did.”

Lydia nodded. “That’s what the Bible says.”

“I think that’s really good. That means that the Tlingit will be really strong, then. They have their old ways that gave them powers and now they have Jesus. They can really be strong when they have to do something important.”

Zee laughed. “Why do you worry over such things, Miss Britta?”

She shrugged. “I just think it’s good to be strong. That’s all.”

A knock sounded on the front door before Illiyana and her sister Natasha came bounding into the house. “Hello!” they called out in unison.

Lydia smiled. “Hello, girls. How nice to see you.”

“Mother said we could come. Can Kjerstin and Britta play with us?”

“Absolutely. Zee and I can spare them, can’t we?”

Zee nodded. “I think it would be the perfect afternoon to go outdoors. The sun is shining and the temperature has warmed up nicely.”

“Still, I want you to wear your wool sweaters. There’s no sense in taking a chill.”

The girls jumped up from the table and headed for the peg where their sweaters were hanging. Kjerstin was already telling Natasha about some new kittens that had been born the day before, while Britta was whispering to Illiyana in a most conspiratorial manner.

Once the girls had gone from the house, Zee turned to Lydia and chuckled. “We won’t see them for hours now.”

“If I know Kjerstin and Natasha, they will spend all their time with the kittens, and Illiyana and Britta will no doubt take up residence in the new playhouse Kjell built.”

“That is quite the little house he put together. I like that it’s built up off the ground like a cache. The girls aren’t so inclined to have a wild animal wander in that way,” Zee said as she gathered up the girls’ embroidery.

“I’m glad,” Lydia began, “that you aren’t feeling quite so angry at the mission workers.”

Zee tucked the sewing away and straightened. “I don’t approve of everything they’ve done, but I’m starting to see now that there is no perfect way to minister. I suppose my biggest frustration is that we as white people come into a culture and demand that the natives do things our way. I want to see their lives bettered as much as anyone, but who says we have somehow arrived at the perfect way to live? Especially for specific areas of the world?”

“What do you mean, Zee?”

She came into the kitchen, where Lydia was already working to prepare supper. “Well, take this area for instance. The people here had established a way of living—of eating, of farming the land, of dressing. They knew what worked and what didn’t because of the generations that had gone before them. Then the whites come in and demand they change their way of living. They demand the children dress like whites and cut their hair. They demand they no longer speak Tlingit, but English. And for what purpose? Jesus certainly doesn’t require such things in order to be saved.”

“Of course He doesn’t,” Lydia agreed.

“But the white mission workers act otherwise. They tell the Tlingits that in order for their children to assimilate into the white world, they must cast aside every part of their Tlingit culture. I think that’s wrong.”

“I agree, but is there a way to seek a balance?”

“I believe so, but apparently Sheldon Jackson doesn’t,” Zee said, shaking her head. “I truly think the man intends good. He’s done great things, and I am not without admiration for him. Still, I think when it comes to the natives, it’s wrong to strip them of their heritage. If they are forced to stop speaking their language and hearing their old stories, it won’t be long before it will be completely forgotten. I think that would be a tragedy.”

“But on the other hand, if the children are caught between superstitions and false spiritual teachings, shouldn’t we step in to help them see the truth?” Lydia asked. “I believe that was the desired result by Mr. Jackson and the Presbyterian mission’s board.”

Zee considered her words for a moment. “I’m just not sure we always go about things in the best manner. Again, it’s one thing to try to help another people understand who Jesus is—that He died for their sins and offers them salvation, just as He does the whites. It’s another to step in and say you can’t be saved if you go barefoot and wear a blanket as your clothing. You can’t be saved if you speak a language other than English. You can’t be saved if you attend a potlatch feast. It’s just wrong, to my way of thinking.”

“I can see your point, Zee.” Lydia smiled sympathetically. “The Tlingit are fortunate to have you on their side.”

“For all the good it will do. I have helped to get plans for the new maternity hospital started, as well as worked with many of the young brides to learn about hygiene and sewing, but the force of our people is a hard one to stand up against.”