The Unlikely Allies (3 page)

“Do you like sculpture?” Lars asked.

“I’ve only seen Masai sculpture.”

“Well, Gustav Vigeland is the foremost Norwegian sculptor. There are nearly two hundred of his statues here in the park—many made of granite or iron, and some in bronze. He worked on them all of his life.”

“I’d like to spend some time there and see them,” Mallory said.

“Oh, we’ll have plenty of time to see the sights.”

They drove into the residential area, where Mallory took in the late-nineteenth-century stone houses. As they made their way into the suburbs, Mallory looked first one way and then the other at the brightly painted wooden houses. It was all so different from Africa. Many of the streets were narrow and winding, and blue-and-white trams clattered around the sharp corners of the thoroughfares.

As they reached the edge of town, Lars pulled up in front of a small farmhouse painted a brilliant yellow with light blue trim. When they went inside, Mallory exclaimed, “What a lovely house!”

“Yes, it is nice, isn’t it?” Eva said. “My grandfather built it. He’s gone now, of course, so Lars and I will live here after we’re married.”

“It doesn’t have as many windows as houses have in England or America, but here we like our homes to be cozy in the cold winter. If we want the out-of-doors,” Lars said with a grin, “we’ve
got plenty of that. But indoors in the winter, we like to close out the cold and ice and enjoy a nice roaring fire.”

“You can give her your lectures on Norwegian architecture later, Lars,” Eva said with a laugh. “Come along. Let’s take Mallory’s bags to her room and then go get something to eat.”

The three went to a restaurant, and Mallory got her first taste of a Norwegian meal. There was a hot fruit soup, which in Norwegian was
fruktsuppe,
followed by brown river trout, and roasted reindeer steaks with cranberry sauce. For dessert they had a wonderful concoction of golden-colored cloudberries with thick whipped cream.

“This is delicious!” Mallory exclaimed.

“Did you really mean what you said in your letter about how the Masai mix blood and milk and then drink it?” Eva asked, leaning forward, her eyes intent.

“Oh yes. They milk the cow, and then they puncture its neck and drain the blood into the milk. And then they plug the wound with cow dung, stir the milk up, and drink it down.”

“Oh my! You never tried it, I hope,” Lars said.

“Certainly! It’s very good.”

They talked for a while about the new customs she would encounter in Norway and among the Lapps before Eva changed the subject with a touch of sadness. “You’ve come at a hard time. Europe is very unsettled right now.”

In 1938 Europe was indeed unsettled. Adolf Hitler had risen over the continent like a dark specter. He had organized the National Socialist Party and had unified Germany, which had been practically demolished by the Great War. In 1935 Hitler had defied the Treaty of Versailles, announcing that he would create an army of a million men, which he did. That same year Hitler had marched into the Rhineland, and no one had opposed him. The Nazis had grown in power until finally, in 1938, Hitler took over Austria, annexing it to Germany. Since then he had announced that the Czechs should surrender to the Third Reich, and Neville Chamberlain, the
British prime minister, had caved in, declaring to his nation, “I believe it is peace in our time.”

Winston Churchill, a member of parliament, however, had warned, “Be ready for war. We must stop Hitler now.”

“This man Hitler,” Mallory said, “I don’t understand why England or France doesn’t stop him. Nobody in Africa understands.”

“We don’t understand either, but we’re safe here,” Lars said. “Norway is neutral.”

“Lars, no one is safe with a maniac like Adolf Hitler,” Eva said grimly. Then she forced herself to smile. “But let’s not think about such things now. You’re going to love this country, Mallory.”

“I think I will.”

“You’ll freeze to death, though,” Lars said with a grin. “I understand you’ve never even seen snow.”

“No, I never have.”

“Well, just wait. You’ll see plenty of it!”

“Yes, and you must learn to ski,” Eva said. “I’ve got an instructor lined up for you. But first you need to settle in here and rest up from your trip.”

****

A week later Eva brought home a tall young man with tawny hair and dark blue eyes. “This is Rolf Bjelland,” she announced. “He will be your skiing teacher. Rolf, this is your pupil, Mallory Anne Winslow.”

“I am so happy to make your acquaintance,” Rolf said in precise English.

“Why thank you. Your English is very good.”

“I like to study, but I like better to ski.”

“Rolf was born in Narvik,” Eva said. “He knows the Lapps very well.”

“Not too well,” Rolf objected, shaking his head. “They’re a strange people, but I have spent some time with them.”

“I’d be very interested in whatever you can tell me about
them,” Mallory said. “Perhaps you can tell me about your experiences with the Lapps while we’re on our way to the mountains.”

“I would be very glad to do that.” Rolf spread his arms, palms up. “Well, is everybody packed?”

“We’re all ready,” Lars said, picking up his suitcase that he had placed by the door. Eva turned off the lights as the group made their way out the door.

“I brought some skis that I think would do for you,” Rolf told Mallory. They stuffed all of their belongings into Lars’s car. “You have never skied?”

“No. I’ve never even walked on snow.”

“You have a fine teacher,” Rolf said, slapping himself on the chest.

“And modest too.” Eva laughed. “Watch out for this one, Mallory. He considers himself a ladies’ man.”

“Pay her no attention, Miss Winslow,” Rolf retorted. “For you, I’m just what the doctor ordered, as they say in English.”

****

The trip to the mountains was a delight to Mallory, both because of the gorgeous scenery and because she found Rolf, Eva, and Lars to be the best of company. They made their way there with scores of happy Norwegians who had begun their summer holidays. Dressed in gaily colored sweaters and anoraks, they all headed toward Nordfjord, some five hundred kilometers northwest of Oslo, where the snow still coated the upper slopes. Mallory found the air cool, sharp, and refreshing after the stifling heat of Africa.

The mountains were beautiful to Mallory. The ground was covered with mosses and lichens, and the lakes were fringed with bog cotton grass. Dense turfs of low-lying plants included rose-tinted heaths, saxifrages, and many species of white- and blue-blossomed Arctic plants. Mallory delighted in the clear mountain lakes, the foaming waterfalls, and the fast-flowing rivers. As they drove higher into the mountains,
the road sometimes passed through dark forests and other times clung to rocky mountainsides with breathtaking views of glaciers and fjords.

It took the better part of the day to get there, but they weren’t in any hurry. They stopped along the way to eat, and Mallory found the food quite delicious. For snacks they nibbled on hearty crackers and sweet goat’s milk cheese.

When they arrived at the ski area, they hauled their packs into a
hytte,
a furnished cabin that offered a bed for the night very cheaply. Eva and Mallory stayed in a room with two other women, and the men shared another room.

That evening the foursome gathered outside around a huge fire, joining with the other travelers in their singing and folk dancing. Mallory learned that the oldest surviving type of Norwegian folk music was called
kveding,
which was unaccompanied singing. She even learned the words to some of the songs and was able to join in the singing.

Rolf insisted on teaching her some of the folk dances, and it was during one of these sessions she found out that his reputation as a ladies’ man was well deserved. They had been dancing around among the crowd, and he had drawn her off to one side into the shadows of the tall fir trees, out of sight of their chaperones, Eva and Lars. She had tried to pull away, but he had caught her and kissed her before she could move.

“Rolf, don’t do that!”

“Don’t do what?”

“Don’t kiss me. I’m not used to it.”

“But I think it’s my duty to get you used to it.” Rolf’s eyes danced with merriment, and when he reached for her again, she pushed him away. “No! Eva warned me about you. Anyway, I’m too old for you.”

“You’re only four years older than I am. When I’m sixty-five you’ll only be sixty-nine. Besides, I think women should marry younger men so they can wait on their wives when they get old.”

Mallory could not help but laugh. “You’re going to have to find yourself a young Norwegian girl.”

“No, I think I like older African women. Yes, that’s what I like.” Rolf reached for her again, but she laughed and turned away, going back to the fire to look for Eva and Lars. When he followed her, she said, “You’re just my skiing instructor, Rolf. Stick to your job!”

****

Mallory found that skiing came easily to her, for her balance was good and was fearless. Rolf was a good instructor, although he never missed an opportunity to touch her, and she had to be constantly on her guard. She quickly learned to take the slopes at a fair rate of speed. She knew she would never be as good as Rolf or others who were practically born on skis, but she was satisfied with her progress.

They skied for the better part of a week, and on the last night before they all went back to Oslo, she was sitting on the couch with Rolf in front of the fire inside the hytte. The others had all gone to bed, and the fire crackled and hissed and snapped, making a comforting noise in the silence.

“You know what?” Rolf asked, staring into the yellow flames.

“What?”

“I think I’m falling in love with you.”

“Don’t be foolish. Eva says you’re going through all the girls in Oslo alphabetically.”

“That’s not true! She’s always telling those stories on me.”

“Well, even so, you can’t be interested in me. I’ve come to Norway to do a job.”

“You can be a preacher. That’s all right with me. It would be nice to be married to a preacher.” He turned, and she could see a smile playing about his lips. “What about it? You think we should get married this summer or wait until winter? Maybe we’d better wait until winter. You’ll need a man to keep you warm then.”

Mallory burst out laughing. She could no more be angry with Rolf than she could be angry at a puppy.

“Good night, Rolf.”

“Don’t forget. When winter comes, we’ll be married.”

Mallory went to her room, where three other young women were already sleeping on cots, and she simply lay down fully dressed. She liked Rolf and had had a wonderful time with him in the mountains, but she knew her real work would be beginning soon.

****

September brought cold winds to Oslo, and snow began to fall. Mallory stood looking out the window, thinking of how much she had enjoyed the summer and the courses she had taken at the university. She had taken a Norwegian language class with other people from all parts of the world, as well as a class in Norwegian history and a third in Lapp culture. She had become close friends with an older woman named Sigrid Undset. Sigrid was a famous writer, having won a Nobel Prize for her work. She was interested in Africa and had invited Mallory to her house one afternoon for tea. Since then the two had met many times.

“And so you are leaving tomorrow for your work with the Lapps?”

Sigrid poured the tea, added some sugar to her own cup, and sat back. “You’ll find it very uncomfortable. I don’t know much about the Lapps, but they live roughly, I understand.”

“Yes, they live in small tents. They are nomads, moving around to follow the reindeer.”

“They seem to be almost another species,” Sigrid said. She was a short woman, strongly built, with brown hair and brown eyes. “I don’t know how you’ll ever get through to them.”

“They need Jesus just as we all do.”

Sigrid smiled. She had discovered that this young woman had a single-track mind, and now she listened as Mallory
spoke of the work she planned to do. Sigrid blew gently across her hot tea and then took a cautious sip. “I’m worried about this war,” she confessed after Mallory mentioned her own concerns.

“It’s getting worse, isn’t it?”

Indeed, Adolf Hitler had rallied his storm troopers at Nuremberg and announced that the Czechs must surrender to the Third Reich.

“Do you think Hitler will invade Czechoslovakia?”

“It’s inevitable, Mallory. They’ve already started. They’ve been attacking Jews.” She hesitated, then said, “I will have to leave this place soon.”

“Leave! But this is your home!”

“My life will be in danger if they invade Norway.”

“No, that’s not possible!”

Sigrid nodded. “They’ve already taken the lives of educated Jews in Czechoslovakia and many other places. I will have to leave when they attack Norway.”

Mallory shook her head. “Norway is neutral. Hitler will never invade a neutral country.”

Sigrid looked at the younger woman, and there was a profound wisdom in her eyes when she said, “You don’t know this man Hitler. Nothing will satisfy him but ruling over Europe, perhaps even the world.”

“That could never happen.”

Sigrid did not answer but looked down at her hands.

“It will be all right, Sigrid,” Mallory said quickly. “God is in His heaven.”

“But man is on earth,” Sigrid said quietly. “And while this madman is loose, no one on earth is safe.”

CHAPTER THREE

The Strange Guide

“Well, there it is, Mallory—Narvik, Norway. Not exactly London or Paris, is it?”

Mallory stared at the small village that lay spread out before her, flanking the dark gray ocean. They had seen some spectacular scenery as they had driven a thousand kilometers north from Oslo. It was certainly a far cry from New York or Paris—or even Oslo. She glanced quickly at Rolf and smiled. “I think it’s nice. It’s much larger than most of the villages in Africa.”

Rolf Bjelland took his right hand off the steering wheel and put it around Mallory, drawing her close. “I wish I didn’t have to leave you here,” he complained. “But I’ve got to get back to the university. My fall classes will start soon.”