Spotting a bench with enough room for him and his brothers, Thor worked his way there, inching past the crush of men that smelled like sweat and sun-dried clothing. A few were clean shaven and the air bore the woodsy scent of lathering soap. Thor sat, and his brothers settled on each side of him.
It was a noisy operation, church. Thor had decided that long ago in the way people leaned near to speak to one another. Mouths moved rapidly and hands flailed in nonsensical ways. Animated eyes often spoke more than words themselves. All of it an energy of life and movement. People glad to see one another after driving for miles to gather under this roof as one body.
Thor observed as usual. Rarely did anyone try and talk to him. It had been this way as long as he could remember.
When folks settled and drew still, he looked to the preacher, who stood facing the women. Not knowing what was being said, Thor let his gaze lift to the diamond-shaped window high up in the wall. His focus didn’t lower until the whole congregation shifted forward to grab hymnals from beneath the benches. Doing the same, Thor handed the leather-bound book to Haakon, who found the hymn that had been called out. Across the page were written shape-notes, but they meant nothing to Thor. It had something to do with pitch. Whatever that meant.
Feeling like a fist was pounding against his skull, Thor rubbed at his temple. His mouth was parched as sand. He squeezed his eyes tight and tried not to dislike church as much as usual.
Book in hand, a man rose and moved to the center of the square. The gentleman bent his arm at the elbow and lowered his hand down and up. Everyone followed suit. A way of beating time together that was visual. As a child, Thor had always liked how a manual form of communication could keep a room of people together. It didn’t impress him as much now. All around, mouths began to move. It filled the air with a mellow vibration. Normally Thor watched the room in general to follow along, but today he just watched Aven.
She didn’t seem to know what to do as she glanced around. Her attention fell to the book when the woman beside her held it nearer. Aven spoke a thank-you and began singing with all the others. Judging by the way her mouth opened and closed, the song was solemn and slow. Thor watched her lips as long as he dared. When she stole a glance his way again, he dropped his attention to the page Haakon braced open.
With everyone lifting and lowering their right hand, Thor decided it was best to do the same. Elbow at his waist, he raised his hand as everyone else did, then lowered it a beat later. Haakon and Jorgan were singing along, their forearms moving in time with everyone else’s. The way Haakon was heaving in breaths, he had to be one of the loudest voices. Probably trying to make up for his behavior since last they’d sat here.
At an elbow from Jorgan, Thor turned the page. His brother nodded his thanks.
Thor didn’t dare look at Aven again. Instead, he focused on the words to the hymn.
People said God lived here. Lived in these songs of praise, but Thor knew it only in the text printed and bound. He had different favorites from his brothers and even Ida. They seemed to prefer the ones most often sung. Those that stirred the congregation to sing loudest—deepening the tremble in the benches. But Thor best liked the songs where struggles were clear in the writing. The printed pleas of those who had petitioned for help to a high King.
Those hymns he understood.
When a few more songs had drawn to a close, Thor shifted on the hard bench and watched the preacher best he could. With parishioners spread on every side of the building, the man stood before each section in turn. A quarter of a sermon. That’s what Thor always got, and he tried to make it be enough, but with so much of the teaching missed, he never fully understood the lessons. He tried to be grateful for the parts that were preached in his direction, but he missed more than he wished.
Thor bounced his foot. It must have been loud because Haakon hit him in the leg. Thor stopped. He broke his intent not to glance at Aven, and when he did, she was watching the preacher with such a thoughtful expression that the sermon made a sound he had never heard before.
Thor was still looking at her when heads tilted forward in prayer. The closing, then. Thor bowed his head and closed his eyes. The world went blank. He always wanted to watch the preacher to see what was said. That didn’t seem proper, though, so with his mouth watering for something strong and wet, he said a desperate prayer all his own, hoping it would be sufficient. He stayed that way for a long time, the plea driving a sting to his throat.
Suddenly Jorgan thumped a fist on Thor’s knee. Thor raised his head to see that folks were standing and talking again. It was over.
He could have a drink soon.
Feeling like a wretch, Thor rose and made his way out of the pew, wedging past people until he could stand in the sun. Some gave him wary glances, and he did his best to avert his gaze. Judging by the whispers he saw and the way the congregation inched around him, he made people uncomfortable. It had ingrained in him a habit to keep to the far end of the churchyard. The place he usually waited until his brothers were done visiting; Jorgan with businessmen and farmers, Haakon with girls.
Even now Haakon was speaking to a pair of young women. They were talking and laughing in the shade of the building. When they looked Thor’s way, he could tell he was being looped into their conversation. But why? Especially since they were being rather open about it.
Neck vise-tight, Thor gripped it and tried to loosen the muscles, but his body was crying out for what he was denying it. He wanted to go home.
Right now.
Tired of waiting, he strode to the wagon and smoothed a hand up the younger mare’s side. He unfastened both of their feed bags and tossed the sacks into the back. By the time he was finished, his brothers and Aven were climbing up. To his relief, Jorgan drove.
The light hurt his eyes, so Thor lowered his head and focused on breathing instead of watching the miles roll by.
Haakon kicked his boot, then held up two small pieces of paper. “This one’s yours.”
What that?
“It’s a ticket. To a dance comin’ up.”
Eyebrows raised, Thor pointed to himself. Haakon nodded.
“We both have them. It was a fund-raiser for some women’s guild, and there’s gonna be a raffle too. Or a bazaar. I’m not sure, but I entered us last time I was in town and forgot to tell you. Cost a dollar apiece but I figured it’s for a good cause. Jorgan has one too, but they paired him with Fay. Which doesn’t seem fair seein’ as she’s not even in town yet.” Haakon handed one of the tickets over. “It’s a partner dance, and the guild women paired you with Alice Vogel.” Haakon grinned.
The reverend’s daughter? Not understanding, Thor was glad when Aven looked back and spoke to Haakon, gleaning more details. On Thor’s behalf, he sensed, but the comfort was thin because his skin was on fire. He was to go to a dance? And his partner was already chosen?
Haakon was a dead man.
When the wagon slowed to a stop in the farmyard, Thor shoved the ticket to his brother’s chest and hopped down. All he wanted right now was his cider shed. He’d deal with Haakon later. But his brother jumped over the side and passed him. Hands up peaceably, Haakon turned and walked backward.
Not slowing, Thor smacked him in the side of the head, moving past his brother. Covering his ear, Haakon grimaced and ducked away. Thor stormed off, but Haakon clipped his boot.
Thor’s stumble only swung him around, and he grabbed hold of his brother and rammed him into the ground. He pressed the side of Haakon’s head into the dirt so the kid squirmed.
Haakon gripped Thor’s arm, digging hard to try and be free. Thor ignored the pain.
He was good at that.