The Icelandic Canadian - 01.04.1988, Page 27

THE ICELANDIC CANADIAN
25
the western world for “Framfari” had folded
and “Leifur” had just then begun to publish.
“How did you get along with your boss
today, Bjorn?” said Kjartan as he sat down.
“Very well,” said Bjorn. “He worked
with me himself for a while this afternoon
and called me his cousin.”
“Did he call you his cousin?” said Anna.
“Well, he must like you a lot.”
“Yes, he called me ‘fraenda sinn’ in every
other word as we were piling the oak logs.”
“You could not possibly be related,” said
my cousin, as she poured the tea.
“He just said it as a joke,” said Kjartan.
“He was serious enough when he said it
and the sweat was pouring off him,” said
Bjorn.
“And how did he say it?” asked Anna.
“Yes, how did he said it in English?” said
Kjartan.
“Well, he just said, ‘My friend, my friend,’
and he said that with every word.”
Everyone smiled, except Arndr.
“In English the word ‘friend’ translates as
‘vinur’ in Icelandic,” said Anna. “He was
calling you his friend, because he thought
you were such a hard worker.”
“Oh, friend just means ‘vinur’?” said
Bjorn. He had lived only ten months in this
country. “Well,” he said, “it doesn’t matter.
I would really rather be called ‘friend’ than
‘cousin.’ ” And he smiled like a boy who is
very satisfied with himself.
(There followed a conversation about a mil-
lionaire’s daughterfrom New York who had
run away with a young man and an account
by Kjartan of a robbery on Main Street in
Winnipeg.)
The meal was now over. A little later,
Kjartan and Bjorn went into town for enter-
tainment. But Arndr walked down to the
river and sat down on the bank. My cousin
began to wash up the dishes after eating a
few leftovers and drinking one cup of tea.
Meanwhile, she told me she was thinking of
having me sleep in the dining room that
night. She said one of the rooms upstairs
was unoccupied. The next day she was going
to ask Anna to contact the owner of the
house and rent that room. In the future, I
was to sleep there and have as my roommate
any one of the boarders I chose. I suggested
she do whatever was most convenient for
her and said I thought that Arndr and I
would get along well. My cousin smiled
happily and I saw she was glad that I had
chosen Arndr. She seemed to know that I
felt sorry for him.
Later that night, Anna and I walked
down to the river bank. Arndr sat there
gazing over the water. The Red River, a
dirty brown color, rolled on, rapid, silent
and heavy as death. Some tree branches and
debris flowed along with the current near
the bank and a single big log floated by
further out in the stream. Here and there
stood barefoot boys and men in high boots
trying to hook the debris and pull it up on
dry land in order to use it for firewood later.
On the other side of the river was a broad,
rolling, grassy plain.
Men and women were enjoying a walk in
the evening stillness, strolling quietly back
and forth. Now and again, the laughter of
young men was heard from the dark green
wood to the east. On the Louise Bridge, a
few men huddled over the railing, gazing at
the current in the river. And in the under-
growth at the end of Point Douglas, sat a
few young men waiting for the dusk so they
could bathe themselves in the river quite
unnoticed. And yet, now and again, a fairly
loud splash was heard and sometimes heads
appeared, one by one, out in the river oppo-
site the point. But they disappeared just as
quickly.
Suddenly, I heard the whistle of a steam-
boat from the north. A few minutes later, I
saw it come around the bend where the
Redwood Bridge is now. It was a small but
lovely ship, white in color and had in tow a
barge loaded with lumber. Anna told me
that this was the “Victoria,” owned by Ice-