A Bone to Pick. Gina McMurchy-Barber

Afterward the brothers built Asgard, which became the sacred home of the gods.

      I was way too sleepy to read more and closed the book. I hoped the image of brains exploding into stars didn’t turn into a nightmare. Just as I was drifting off to sleep, somewhere far away in the land of the awake, I heard my mom’s phone ring. It was unusual for someone to call so late, but I didn’t have the strength or interest to give it much thought. I simply let my head melt into the pillow, and I slipped off to what I thought was going to be a good long sleep.

      The house is lit by the glow of the fire. Everyone sits around as Thorfinn readies for the telling of the evening story. The men sharpen their knives and polish swords. The boys practise their carving and the girls their sewing and weaving. The mothers tend to the babies or clean up from the evening meal.

      “Someone remind me — where did I leave off?” Thorfinn asks.

      “Last night you told the story about the creation of the gods and Asgard,” Sigrid says.

      “Ah, that’s right. You were paying attention.” Thorfinn smiles at his young charge. He is a big man, red-bearded, and is inclined to be of good temper. His young charge loves him as a father. And though she has heard the story of creation many times in her life, each time is as good as the first.

      “I always pay attention when you’re telling the stories, Uncle. I listen better than anyone else.”

      Thorfinn laughs deeply at the girl’s declaration. What he does not know is that she is memorizing the stories so that one day she can be their keeper and tell them to the others.

      Ever since she was very little, even before her parents perished in the house fire, Sigrid loved listening to the stories the elders tell at the end of the day when the clan comes together for supper. Some stories are of the gods and goddesses. Other stories are of great explorers, like Erik the Red and his son, Lucky Leif, the first to come to Vinland, the cold and windy settlement they now occupy. But Sigrid enjoys most the stories with shield maidens, those brave and clever women who preferred to take up the sword and fight in battle than live out their lives cooking and cleaning and raising children. When she is old enough, she, too, will be a shield maiden — if her guardians let her.

      “All right, then let us continue. When the gods were finished creating Asgard, they took time to rest and enjoy their work. But there was a giant, Hrimthurs, who wagered the gods that he could build a wall around Asgard in one winter. If he succeeded, then they must give him the sun and the moon, and the lovely Frigga for a wife. Now Loki, adopted son of Odin, had little faith in Hrimthurs, so he convinced Odin, Thor, and the other gods to accept the wager. Upon this agreement the giant began his work with the help of his giant horse, Svadilfari.”

      As Thorfinn recites the well-worn story, Sigrid sits on the edge of her seat, biting her nails. She sees in her imagination the giant, an ugly brute who thinks he can outsmart the gods and take for himself the beautiful Frigga. He must be mad, she thinks. He deserves the gory mess he will soon be in for daring to outwit Odin and the others.

      “Sigrid, please take Snorri and tuck him into bed,” asks Gudrid. “He’s very tired tonight.”

      “Now? We’re in the middle of a story. He can wait till later,” Sigrid snaps back. Just then the toddler lets out an ear-splitting wail that commands attention.

      “I go sleep now,” he cries.

      “Sigrid, do as you were told,” Thorfinn commands.

      The girl huffs and grabs the little fellow by the hand. “Come on,” she says as she yanks him from his mother’s lap. “Brat,” she says when they are out of earshot. As Sigrid tucks the toddler under the fur blanket, his eyes are already closed and his thumb is in his mouth. “Why do I always get stuck with you? I’m not your mother. And for that matter I’ll never be anyone’s mother. I’m going to be a shield maiden.”

      Sigrid knows if anyone heard her say such a thing — anyone except Snorri — they would laugh at her. No woman in her clan has ever become a warrior, let alone an orphan girl like her. But at the core of her being she knows she has the heart of a warrior, like Thor, and that is more important than anything.

      The girl lays her head down beside her cousin and whispers in his ear, “One day, Snorri, you’ll see. I will march into battle and strike down the enemy as fiercely as if I were Odin, the Allfather himself. They will call me Sigrid the Brave. You’ll see …” With images of fighting giants and dwarfs single-handed, she slips off to sleep.

      Chapter Three

      The next morning came way too soon. Before the sun was fully up, Mom was in my room rattling around in my closet. Out of one eye I watched her open and shut drawers and pull my suitcase out from under my bed.

      “Mom,” I growled, “what are you doing? I’m trying to sleep here!” She either didn’t hear me or didn’t care because she kept on thumping around. I pulled my pillow over my head. “This isn’t fair. Aunt Margaret said I could sleep in.”

      “Never mind. You can sleep on the plane,” she said.

      I lifted my head slightly and watched her shove my clothes into the suitcase.

      “Okay, that should be enough shirts and pants, undies and warm sweaters. Oh, where’s your raincoat? I’ve looked everywhere for it.”

      I sat up and stared at her. “Have you finally lost your marbles? What are you talking about?” I asked, now completely annoyed. “It’s a perfectly sunny summer day. Why would I need my raincoat? Mom, stop. Why are you packing my suitcase?”

      Mom just beamed at me, then looked at her watch. “We don’t have much time for this, but here’s the short version. Last night Eddy called.” I sat up quickly and could feel my heart pounding under my pajamas. “As it turns out, the field school is in need of a cook’s assistant. Apparently, they had someone lined up, but after just one day he suddenly quit. Eddy said that as soon as she heard she thought of you.”

      I didn’t say anything, just stared at her.

      “Peggy! You’re going to Newfoundland!”

      “What? But …” My brain was shorting out. “Cook’s assistant? I’m a terrible cook.”

      “Anyone can cook. And besides, you made that wonderful chili for dinner the other night.” What Mom didn’t know was that Aunt Margaret salvaged what she could from the chili I’d burned and prepared the rest.

      “Seriously, Mom, I can’t really cook. And even if I could, why would I want to go all the way to L’Anse aux Meadows just to get stuck cooking while everyone else was out excavating?”

      “Look, Peggy, when you get offered a free trip —”

      “Free trip?”

      “That’s right. Eddy said the field school is willing to pay for your airfare and give you free room and board in exchange for being the cook’s help. The catch is that you have to leave today and be willing to start tomorrow morning.” I frowned. “Oh, and she did warn that the cook is pretty overbearing, but I figured that she can’t be much worse than your Aunt Margaret.”

      I sat on the edge of my bed, hugging my pillow, not quite sure what to make of it all.

      “Peggy, think about it. You’re not going to be cooking all day and all night. This is your big chance to actually see the place where the Vikings explored and lived … not just look at some artifacts in a museum case. And who knows, maybe you’ll be able to excavate with the students in your spare time. Peggy, it’s a chance of a lifetime and is full of potential!”

      Though I still felt like a deer in headlights, I was finally starting to get the picture.

      “Now get up, girl. Everything’s been arranged. I booked your plane online and it leaves at nine, but we have to be at the airport no later than seven-thirty.”

      A half hour later I’d showered, finished packing, and was standing at the front