Haymaker in Heaven by Edvard Hoem

Author:Edvard Hoem
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Milkweed Editions

10

The next morning it was so light that they were blinded when they opened their eyes. There were no curtains in the room. A flock of seagulls shrieked somewhere, and while they lay there cuddled up in bed, all six of them, the day’s sounds and smells came in. Through the floor they caught the aroma of baking bread. Olava was hungry, and Gjertine fetched a pitcher so they could do a basic washup. They got dressed. The weather was nice out, and they didn’t want to stay in any longer than necessary. Then the hostess came to the doorway and asked how long they planned to lie around.

They said they needed to eat.

The docks teemed with people preparing to travel, and there was a lot of luggage to be loaded. Crates and chests and suitcases going to America and goods headed for England: casks of aquavit from Lysholm’s distillery and big barrels of dry, salted cod. Olava was in charge of minding Sivert so he didn’t fall overboard. She did a great job.

The Wilson Line had started a regular route from Throndhjem to Hull in 1871, and over the years built almost a monopoly on emigrants to England. Norwegian shipping lines had tried to take over the lucrative supply traffic for the big transatlantic shipping lines, but the Wilson Line didn’t appreciate the competition, and were threatening to shut down all passenger service out of the country. Transatlantic companies like the Allan Line couldn’t live with that. So they agreed that all their passengers from Norway to England had to travel with the Wilson Line.

Some of these Wilson Line ships were legendary and known in every port, such as the SS Hero, the third ship of that name under the flag of the Wilson Line, and the one on which the saddler’s family would sail.

But there were other kinds of travelers here, people taking trips to England and back home again. Most of them traveled in first class and stood along the railing watching the activity on the wharf below.

“It’s almost strange not to see anyone we know,” Gjertine said.

The saddler looked around.

“There’s a man over there I think I’ve seen before,” said the saddler, who had traveled so much. “Well, I’ll be—if that isn’t Peder from Kjørsvika and his wife. Her name’s Anna, if I’m remembering correctly.”

“You usually do remember the ladies, don’t you,” Gjertine needled him.

The saddler walked over to say hello. Gjertine stayed where she was, standing with the children and following him with her eyes. It seemed like he had recovered his ability to speak. He laughed so loudly they could hear him, and then he returned with the Kjørsvika folks. The wife was a few years older than Gjertine, but still young. They didn’t seem to have any children? Ah, yes, there came a boy who was Olava’s age!

The Kjørsvika family was going to Roberts County, South Dakota, the county neighboring Day, where Hans Ås had settled, and they were on the same boats, the SS Hero to Hull and the SS Parisian from Liverpool.

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