The Icelandic Canadian - 01.12.2008, Side 38

36
THE ICELANDIC CANADIAN
Vol. 62 #1
there was little she could do about it. If she
landed anywhere close to Dr. Bjornsson’s
it wouldn’t matter. If she landed! The pos-
sibility that she might not land had not
occurred to her before. But she must! She
had to get the doctor for Helga!
Water sloshed back and forth in the
bottom of the boat. It tilted perilously and
then leveled out again, hitting the sea with
a loud crash. Walls of water towered above
her on all sides. The boat rose out of the
trough and Gretchen caught a glimpse of
the house lights, much nearer now. She was
rapidly drifting out to sea but she knew
that the boat was being blown in to the
shore too and that it would probably strike
the beach of the fjord. The sea swung her
up and down ever closer to the land.
Suddenly the waves in front of her
divided. A foam swept black rock rushed
to meet her. Frantically she pulled at the
oars and tried to avoid it but the sea held
her tight, directly in its path. Fascinated,
she watched it loom larger and larger. Then
there was splintering crash and the black
rock grew and spread until it covered the
whole world.
Sigurd and Lars Petersson saw it hap-
pen. They had come down to the beach
before darkness fell to see that their boats
were safely anchored and would ride the
storm through the night if need be. They
saw the girl flung out against the rock and
into the sea. They saw her washed ashore.
When they got there, she was still
breathing. Very carefully, Sigurd picked
her up and carried her as quickly as possi-
ble to the doctor’s house. Gray-haired,
kindly Dr. Bjornsson bent over the broken
body. He wiped away a tiny trickle of
blood that seeped out from between the
bruised, blue lips Gretchen’s eyes opened.
“Are you in pain, child?’ “No, Doctor not
now.” The whisper came faintly in pink
foam from the girl on the couch. “Doctor,”
... he bent lower to hear the fading words,
“Go to Helga, Gunnar’s wife . . . she fell,
on the cliff path . . . Thank her for all her
kindness, and Doctor . . . please say good-
bye for me.” Then the tired eyes closed the
voice was forever stilled.
The storm was dying down as if
ashamed of the havoc it had done. Gunnar,
who had ridden the wind at anchor in a
sheltered cove, started home. When he
reached the landing below the cliff path
and saw the doctor’s boat tied up there, he
hurried up to the house. He found the
doctor leaning over Helga, who he had
placed in bed. He looked around for
Gretchen, who was nowhere to be seen.
“Get the fire going, man. Hurry! We have
a battle on our hands.” The doctor spoke
without taking his eyes off his patient.
Gunnar hurried to obey, asking no ques-
tions. Helga stirred and moaned.
In a few words the doctor told
Gunnar what had happened. Gunnar
stared at him blankly, his mind refusing to
believe the words that his ears had heard.
Gretchen! Little Gretchen, dead! It could-
n’t be true! Why Gretchen was a part of
him! She was always there to welcome
him home. She couldn’t be gone. He
couldn’t imagine life without her shy
smiles and merry laughter. Slowly he sank
into a chair and dropped his aching head in
his hands. What a fool he had been not
have known before! He had been in love
with Gretchen! In love with the sunshine
and the white and pink beauty of her. In
love with her as one loves a beautiful
melody, a lovely dream. Now she was
gone; never to smile at him again.
But Helga was here! Helga, his wife.
Helga, who he loved in a deeper, steadier
way. The doctor’s gruff voice broke into
his thoughts. “There is no time for griev-
ing now, Gunnar. You will have three to
mourn instead of one, if you don’t help
me. Your wife and your unborn child are
in grave danger.”
Helga’s eyes opened as Gunnar bent
over the bed. She smiled at him and
reached out to touch his arm timidly. He
took her hand and held it tightly in both of
his, bowing his head over it. Gently she
stroked his tumbled hair.
Yes, they tell a tale in Iceland. It is
whispered among the women and spoken
among the men. It is a story of Helga, who
is, because of Gretchen; and of Gunnar,
the man who loved them both. It is the
story of a first born child; a dimpled,
laughing girl child. Her name is Gretchen
too.