An exciting story that puts a young girl living in a hotel in the 1800's, in the position of solving a mystery to save her family.
In 1882, ANNIKA GUSTAVSSEN, a thirteen-year-old Swedish girl, immigrates to America with her family.
Annika lives in Wilderness Hotel at the edge of a huge lake on the Minnesota/Canadian border in a place called Settlement.
Because Annika is small and very dark, she doesn’t look at all like her blond, light-skinned Swedish family. People sometimes stare at her. Annika isn’t concerned about this. Her Poppa and Momma dearly love her. In spite of her unusual appearance, Annika has many good friends.
But Annika keeps her secrets. She has special powers, and those she tells to no one. She experiences foretelling . . . that is, knowing what is going to happen in advance of it happening, and she sees the colors of most people . . . that which we know of as auras.
Annika enjoys her powers and uses them to her advantage. They become more and more potent as she pays attention to them, trusts them, and lets them guide her.
Annika’s family begins a wonderful new life, but all is not well in America. The past knows no borders, and it follows Annika’s Pappa across the sea from Sweden to endanger the family’s new life in America.
It falls to our Little Black Haired General to save her Poppa, her family, and all of Settlement from evil forces that would destroy them.
Excerpt
PROLOGUE
“Get up Annika, get up!”
Momma’s voice comes from far away.
“Get up!”
The wonderful smell of breakfast is competing with the clean outdoor perfume of my fresh eiderdown.
I struggle to pull my mind away from Sweden, that far place of my dreams. I've been with my friends once again, and with my cat, playing in the grassy meadow by our ancient timber house at Brunskög, close to Lake Värmeln.
Momma attempts to mask her beautiful soft Swedish accent with the harsh sounds of some Americans she’s met. Her efforts are in vain. Most of our settlement residents are Swedish, and there is no need to hide that she is Swedish too . . . but since coming to Wilderness Hotel, she seldom speaks our language.
“Our home is in a new country,” says Momma. “We must do our best to become Americans.”
I miss our language and our sweet home sounds more than anything else, even more than my friends and my Kitty.
I was born in 1869. I’m Annika Evelina and I’m thirteen years old. It’s the first day of January, in the year 1882.
I live in Wilderness Hotel, by a big lake, on the border of Minnesota and Canada . . . on the American side.
Our Poppa, Viktor Melker Gustavssen, was named in the traditional way by his Poppa’s name, (Gustav's son), but in America the wife and children stay with the father’s name. Momma’s name was Evelina Lisbet Persdotter, but now she is known as Mrs.Viktor Gustavssen.
My twin brothers, Mats and Melker, are almost five. Poppa says they are true Swedes. Their pale cream-colored hair and deep blue eyes are like Momma’s and Poppa's.
But I’m dark skinned, with eyes almost black. Momma has told me that I have the blood of our ancestors to the northern-most parts of Sweden. And Poppa says my eyes are the most beautiful and soft he has ever seen; like the darkest chocolate colored velvet. But still, it’s unusual to have such a dark child in this family with Swedish coloring.
I’m often uncomfortable by being stared at. In Sweden I was sometimes treated with disrespect because of the way I look. Poppa and Momma told me to feel sorry for people who do that.
It didn’t help. I felt sad when it happened.
Poppa's sister, back in Karlstad, Sweden, Tante Nicolene; (Tante means Aunt in Swedish), referred to me one day as the daughter of a Saami Shaman. She said I have the ability of foretelling. It didn’t upset me because I knew it. I knew it since memory began for me.
Even though Tante is much wealthier than Poppa, she sometimes said small things out of jealousy. She upset Momma when she said these things about me, and when Poppa heard of it he had a long talk with Tante. She never mention it in my hearing again.
I think she said these things to me because it frightens her when I know when we are about to have visitors, and who they are, before they arrive.
But I haven’t told anyone about the dreams that always come true, and I haven’t told anyone about the hazy colors that I see surrounding some people.
I notice certain kinds of people have colors, some very soft and some harsh, and similar moods in the people cause similar colors to float about their bodies. Momma has mostly soft blue around her; especially when she is taking care of the boys, and Poppa's color is usually azure blue.
I see my own colors when looking at myself in a mirror. Most of the time I see beautiful clear yellow, but when I’m very busy working, or taking care of Mats and Melker, I see deep misty purple swirling about me. Seeing the misty purple makes me feel happy.
I know better than to rattle the adults. This information from me would not be well received by the unknowing.
During the early 1840’s, when Poppa was young, his family was doing very well financially. Until he grew to manhood, Poppa had every advantage given to upper class families in Sweden, including higher education in Karlstad. But at that time, Sweden began to suffer severe crop failures . . . drought came, and sickness spread throughout the land. Thousands of people died.
And Poppa's family lost most of their fortune.
It was no longer possible for my poppa to go into business because there wasn’t enough money left in his family, and business failures were rampant throughout Sweden.
To make a career, my Poppa, through special favors given to his own poppa from long-time friends, was given a commission in the Swedish Navy.
He was often away for many months.
One day last year, weary after returning from his travels, Poppa announced that we are going to America, but we must leave very quickly. We left during the night, without telling our friends or relatives. We carried only small supplies of food, and warm clothes. Momma seemed very afraid, especially for the safety of us children. She cried often during the first weeks after our departure.
We traveled by farm cart from Brunskog, in western Värmland,
south to Göteborg, to arrange passage to Canada. Our long sea journey was on a very large, but crowded, ship. The food was of poor quality and we were often sick.
Poppa and Momma were fearful that Mats and Melker would be too weak to complete our journey, but I am strong and sturdy and I shared some of my food with them in secret.
When we reached eastern Canada, we traveled southwest on foot, very close to America, past the border of the Pembina Territory, then back again, it seemed for days. Some mornings we walked toward the rising sun and other mornings we walked away from the sun. I dared not ask why we walked first one direction and back the other.
Then, one dark night, Poppa hurried us through a thick wooded stand of birch and pine . . . and we crossed the border from Canada to America.
Poppa warned us to never speak of our travels, for fear that we will be sent back to Sweden by the American authorities if they discover we don't have proper papers.
I'm old enough to know that we didn’t come through to America in the legal way.
After crossing the border to America, we stayed to the east, continuing our journey through the northern plains of Minnesota, into the forestlands. I lost track of time.
Poppa had money saved from his navy officer's wages for our new life, but he was careful not to spend much in fear of not having enough to start our new life. We ate mostly crisp-bread. It costs little, keeps well, and it is easy to carry. We drank water and felt satisfied.
We seldom encountered homesteaders, but we were fortunate when we crossed their land and could buy cheese and fresh milk.
Sometimes we were given these foods outright, along with a small packet of dried meat, from families who put us up for a night in their small earthen houses.
It's early September.
As it turns dark, a drizzling rain starts, and we are soon soaked to the skin. The temperature has fallen by the time we reach Settlement, our stop for the night.
For a special treat, Poppa rents one small bedroom at the hotel.
Mats and Melker are tired and cry themselves to sleep, but I am kept awake by a strange and restless excitement . . . a knowing.
I know that I am home . . . at last. I know that I belong in this place!
I lay in my warm bed, secure in the feeling of certainty.
At long last, the sky begins to lighten.
Poppa and Momma return, waking me. The brilliant autumn sun shines in through the big windows of our little bedroom, but I lay still, close my eyes . . . not willing to stir.
I hear them whispering . . . . about a new beginning, opportunity, a new life; but I will not rouse myself, and drift back into smooth black sleep.
When I wake fully I see that our beautiful little room is flooded with sunshine. It must be midday. The twins have gone out with Poppa and Momma, and I am alone.
I hear the familiar sound of water lapping at the shore and realize that we must be very close to a large lake. I rush to the big windows at the far side of the room. Beyond the sharp sloping expanse of grounds, is a lake so large that I can’t see across it to the other side. I see and hear nothing but lapping water to both left and right. There are trees and thick underbrush everywhere, except directly below.
This place looks and sounds like home! I have a knowing. There will be no reason to hurry today. We will not be leaving.
I wonder why I didn’t hear the lapping of the water on the shore last night. I must have been so cold, so tired, so numb that I wasn't aware of anything other than my misery.
But I hear it now, and I feel very happy!
I scurry to the door, open it, just a crack, and look out. The same wonderful dark blue, red, and gold carpet as is on the floor of our room is also on the floor in the wide hallway outside our door.
A railing runs along in front of me. I open the door wide, step out into the hallway, and look over the railing. I’m startled to discover two more floors of rooms below ours, and a reception below that. I don't recall climbing the stairs to our room last night.
I hear soft murmurs, and see two elegantly dressed gentlemen pass from one side to the other, then disappear through a wide door at the side of reception.
As I turn back I’m surprised to see gilt framed paintings hung in every available place on the hallway walls, to the left and to the right, and at both sides of each door.
Once inside our room again, I'm aware that I need to use the chamber pot. I look under the beds but I don't find one. I see another, smaller door, beyond the bed where Poppa and Momma had been sleeping. I open it to find a luxurious bathroom equipped with a large tub, sink, and a toilet with a tank attached high up, close to the ceiling.
I’ve seen a fine bathroom like this in the home of my wealthy cousins in Karlstad, so I know that the chain with the wooden pull hanging from the tank is for letting water down, flushing body waste away through a pipe.
The pipe empties into another, larger pipe, that leads to a deep pit covered with a mound of packed dirt, located someplace where the ground is low, far away from the hotel.
Turning a faucet handle on the sink produces a gush of clear water. A small oval cake of scented soap has been left on the sink, and a fine linen towel hangs from a porcelain bar attached to the wall between the sink and toilet. I wash my face with the fragrant soap and wipe it dry with the soft towel. When I've nearly finished this ritual I discover the water turning warm . . . then hot!
I'm disappointed about missing washing with the hot water and resolve that next time I’ll wait for it.
Just as I go to open the door, the twins rush in, almost knocking me backwards. Behind them are Poppa and Momma with bright smiles lighting their faces.
“Annika!” says Poppa. He is excited. “We have the most wonderful news!”
“Providence has led us to this very place in America! Momma and I went out in the daylight this morning, to enjoy the delights of this beautiful hotel. We met up with the elderly owner. He told us of his children marrying and moving on to other lives, leaving just he and his wife, who is unwell, to operate this large hotel alone. They are tired.”
“He wishes to sell it to honest, hard-working people if he could only find someone interested. I asked what price he had set on the place. He named a reasonable sum, and I knew I have more than half that amount in my moneybag. When I told the man I will be interested in the purchase, but that I don't have the full price, he invited your Momma and me to his private office.”
“Once made comfortable there, we were served delicious coffee and wonderful sweet pastries. We discussed possibilities.”
“The end of it, Annika, my sweet daughter, is that I have purchased this wonderful hotel with half the amount needed already paid, and the remainder on very reasonable terms! We have found our home in America, and our family business, as well!”
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