The Life Chest: Vikings: The Life Chest Adventures, #3

By Kim Yost, Terie Spencer and Donna Yost

"Before going forward, all doorways should be looked to; for it is difficult to know where foes may sit within a dwelling." – a Viking saying

In the 1920s, Swedish border patrol skiers saw a pattern of mysterious black dots as they gazed from their vantage point on a windy ridge into a desolate, snow-filled valley. Were the dots a mirage, a visual trick of the glaring white landscape? Or were they the rooftops of ancient Viking lodges, peeking up through an age-old avalanche of snow? The answer was unknown, buried in the bleakness of the inaccessible valley.

Josh and Bernie, the main characters in The Life Chest Adventures, encounter this mystery when they travel to Norway with their families. What begins as a pleasant vacation turns into a thrilling and dangerous trek into the valley. Murder and betrayal accompany them, and the cousins must confront their own demons as well as a gang of treasure-hunting thugs when they discover Viking life chests overflowing with riches.

The "nine noble virtues" of Viking lore dovetail with the life chest lessons that Bernie and Josh strive to live by, making this story a unique addition to the series.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kim Yost
• Release date: Sep 1, 2016
• ISBN: 9781733333856

Book preview

PROLOGUE

A Viking Heritage Discovered

OK, I’m heading out to pick up my new glasses, said Josh to Leah as he buttoned his cardigan sweater. Don’t forget, it’s Tuesday.

I haven’t forgotten, smiled his wife. I love the days that we get to have April after school. Can you believe it’s 2152 already? Time goes by so quickly. This is the last year that she’ll be in a school so close to us. Leah paused to straighten her husband’s wayward shirt collar and continued. Are Meg and Nathan picking her up tonight?

Yes, after supper, answered Josh. It’s OK with you if I take the car, right?

Sure. I’ll just walk to the corner where the school transport drops the kids off. Now you better get going if you don’t want to get stuck in the afternoon traffic.

Will do. See you and Blossom soon! called Josh as he headed out the door.

April ran to meet Leah at the transport stop. Yay! It’s Grandma day! she exclaimed.

Leah laughed and enveloped her granddaughter in a big hug. What did you do in school today? she asked as they walked home.

We learned about Vikings, answered April enthusiastically. In reading and social studies and even in music. It was cool.

It does sound like fun, agreed Leah. What was your favorite thing?

Learning about the longships they made, said April thoughtfully. But the food they ate and the clothes they wore were kind of strange.

I guess they would be strange to a California girl like you, said Leah. The Vikings lived in a very cold climate.

The short walk was soon over and the pair found themselves in Josh and Leah’s kitchen, enjoying milk and cookies.

Grandma, said April as she broke a crisp, fragrant cookie in half. You’re the only person I know who makes ginger cookies all year long and not just at Christmastime.

I learned how to cook and bake from my grandmother, and ginger cookies were always my favorite, explained Leah. Her family was from Norway, and she made all the traditional Norwegian favorites, like ginger cookies and lefse. Did your teacher tell you that Norway was one of the lands of the Vikings?

Uh huh, nodded April. She swallowed the last bite of her third cookie and took a drink of milk. So, Grandma – does that mean you’re a Viking?

Leah laughed. Not exactly, she explained. The Viking era was centuries ago. And technically, the Scandinavians only called themselves Vikings when they actually went out to sea. I’ve been on a cruise ship, but that’s all.

Leah stood up to put the milk away while April sat deep in thought. But I bet some of your ancestors in Norway were Vikings, the little girl said after a minute.

Maybe so, said her grandmother. I don’t know for sure. But I have an idea. Let’s go look in my life chest. I have an old scrapbook of my grandmother’s. We can read it to get an idea of what life was like for her in Norway.

April sprinted down the hall to the sewing room, where Leah kept her life chest. Did Viking kids eat ginger cookies and drink milk, too?

They could have, said Leah, following April into the sunny little room where the chest was displayed under a window.

Your life chest is so pretty, Grandma, exclaimed April as she ran her hand along the carvings on the golden-brown wood.

Leah smiled as she lifted the lid. I got it as a wedding present from your grandpa. It’s called the Eternity chest.

As April watched, Leah took a few books and small boxes from the chest. I’m glad we’re doing this, honey, she continued. It’s been awhile since I’ve looked in my life chest. I showed your mother my very first embroidery project a few months ago, but I haven’t opened it since then. I’ll put the menu from our anniversary party in it, if your grandpa will let me have one. I think he has five copies in his life chest.

I found a lot of really great rocks that I put in mine just yesterday, said April. I love rocks.

Her grandmother laughed. I know, but if you fill up your life chest with rocks, you won’t have room for anything else.

Mom thinks so, too, said April. She said she’d get a separate box especially for my rocks.

That’s a good idea, agreed Leah. As they talked, she had been looking through the life chest, taking out drawings, jewelry and trinkets. Ah, here it is, she said as she lifted a spiral-bound book from the depths of the chest. My grandmother’s scrapbook. Let’s go sit on the sofa with it.

The two settled in with the scrapbook between them on their laps. My journal’s on an e-tablet, said April. But I like these paper books, too. Even though some of them smell funny.

These old things are important enough to keep preserved, insisted her grandmother, even if they smell funny. They’re a window into the past. Now, let’s see what we have here. Maybe we’ll find the answer to your question about whether any of my family were Vikings.

Leah and April looking through Leah’s life chest

Leah and April looking through Leah’s life chest

OK, said April, carefully turning the yellowed pages of the scrapbook. How do we find out?

Somewhere in here there’s a family tree, I think, mused Leah. But look, April. Here’s her recipe for pepperkaker. That means ginger cookies.

I like her handwriting, said April as she peered at the page. It’s funny to think that people had to write everything down and didn’t have keypads.

They had old-fashioned keypads, said Leah. But they thought it was nicer and more personal to write things by hand. I do, too.

Paging through the scrapbook, grandmother and granddaughter found old photographs, letters, wedding invitations and birth announcements. Here’s another Norwegian recipe: serinakaker. It’s a butter cookie, explained Leah.

Can we make those sometime, Grandma? asked April.

Of course. I’ll get the ingredients and we’ll do it next Tuesday. Grandpa will love them. Oh, look, April. Here’s the family tree.

April and Leah spent several minutes studying the old family tree that went back several generations, and the little girl commented on the similarity of a few of the names.

Here’s Anderson, Knutson and Peterson. Why do they all end with ‘son’? she asked.

Those names mean son of Ander, son of Knut and son of Peter, answered Leah. That’s how children were identified long ago. They became people’s last names centuries later.

Look, Grandma. Look at this name. April pointed to one of the first entries on the family tree, Thorson. We learned about the Norse god Thor in social studies. One of your ancestors must have been the son of Thor!

Well, I don’t think Olaf Thorson was really the son of the god Thor, admitted Leah. People in the past liked to use the gods’ names for their babies in hopes that the children would be strong and wise. See, here’s a girl whose first name is Thorvia. That name has a Viking origin, for sure, and so do some of the other ones.

Wow, breathed April. That’s really neat, Grandma.

Just then, a voice called from the front hall as the door closed. Where are my girls?

In here, Grandpa! answered April. We’re looking at the Norway things in Grandma’s life chest. She’s related to Vikings.

Is that so? asked Josh as he entered the room. An impish grin crossed his face. So does that mean you won’t get mad if I start calling you a battle-ax, dear Leah?

The grin turned into a laugh as Josh ducked to avoid the throw pillow his wife hurled at him. Just kidding, he said hastily. Whoa! Double teamed! he added as April, giggling, pounded his knees with another pillow and Leah cheered her defender. This one is a Viking warrior princess for sure! he managed to comment.

Josh bent down to hug his granddaughter after she had relinquished her weapon. Any particular reason it’s Viking Day? he asked.

We learned about Vikings in school today, answered April.

Well, I have ancestors from Sweden, said Josh as he settled into a chair. Vikings came from there, too. So does that make me as special as Grandma?

Maybe, teased April. Who were your ancestors?

Great-Great-Grandpa Kim had a grandpa, too. His name was Nils Nordstrom, and Gramps called him Pappa. Nordstrom is a very old Swedish name meaning ‘north of the river.’ Sweden is right next to Norway, Blossom. They had Vikings, too. So am I in the club?

Well, said April hesitantly. "Grandma’s family has a bunch of names with ‘son’ in them. That’s Viking. Especially Thorson. You have Nordstrom, not Nordson, Grandpa."

I’ve got that, too, insisted Josh. There’s a Johanson in my family tree, Blossom.

OK. You’re both in the Viking club, April declared. Just then, a realization came to the little girl, and a grin spread across her face. Hey, we’re related. That means I’m a Viking, too!

Uh oh, said Josh, smiling at Leah. They watched as April pretended to hold a two-handed sword above her head and bring it down on another unfortunate sofa pillow. Isn’t she 10 years old now? When is she supposed to start behaving like a little lady? he whispered to his wife.

Never, I hope, answered Leah. I prefer the warrior princess.

Me, too, admitted Josh. Hey, Blossom. If you quit executing the pillows, I’ll tell you a story. Do you want to hear about Pappa Nordstrom’s life in Sweden?

Sure, agreed April, planting herself on the sofa next to Leah.

Let’s see, began Josh thoughtfully. I read about him in Gramps’ journals, but it’s been awhile. Do you remember when he was born? he asked his wife.

Just before 1900, answered Leah. And he had a lot of brothers and sisters. Ten, I think.

April chimed in, That’s a big family.

Yes, agreed her grandpa. And his father died when he was only 12 years old. Now, Grandma, you’ve heard Pappa Nordstrom’s story more than once. Will you help me remember it as I go along?

As much as I can, agreed Leah. I do remember that he lived in a mountainous area, and he was a very good skier.

That sounds like fun, said April.

It made for some great adventures, too, added Josh.

The 20th century was about to begin, and with the new century came a new life: Kim Yost’s own Gramps, Nils Nordstrom. Nils was born in 1899 in a small village in Sweden, the first child of what would become a large family of two boys and nine girls. Life was routine for the Nordstroms until Nils’ 12th year, when his father died. This was a very hard blow for such a large family. Nils promised his mother he would stay with her and help support his brothers and sisters until they were all old enough to be on their own.

Nils Nordstrom with his brother and sisters

Nils Nordstrom with his brother and sisters

Nils kept his promise, although he dreamed of traveling to faraway places. The pictures in his geography schoolbooks showed tempting and exotic vistas in Africa and South America. His schoolmates imagined how wonderful the tropical climates would be, but Nils wasn’t interested in beaches and jungles. He wanted to go to Canada, of all places.

You see, Nils explained to anyone who would listen, I read that the Vikings traveled to Canada. They were the true discoverers of the Americas. And they made the dangerous journey in open longships. What an adventure! That’s where I want to go.

When Nils wasn’t dreaming about being a Viking, he spent all his time outdoors. Having grown into a tall and healthy young man, Nils enjoyed outdoor sports, such as snowshoeing and the new pastime of downhill skiing. The Nordstroms lived near Storlien, an up-and-coming resort area at a high elevation, close to the Norwegian border. Innovators in the new sport of slalom skiing often spent time at Storlien and even taught skiing workshops to the local boys and girls.

Nils and his friends spent as much time as they could on the slopes, racing and learning new techniques, but after Nils finished school in 1916 at the age of 17, he knew he had to work to help his family. His mother needed more money than he had been providing the last few years working at odd jobs and running errands. Nils apprenticed himself to a carpenter. He learned fast and especially enjoyed carving and detailed finishing work.

The many hours indoors made Nils restless, however, and the dust in the workshop made him sick, but Nils did not quit. He repeated an ancient Viking proverb to himself on many mornings when his muscles were stiff and his cough had kept him awake: Much is lost by the late sleeper. Wealth is won by the swift. His mother and sisters worried about him and wished he could find work he was more suited for.

Thankfully, a new opportunity presented itself. With it came a chance to get outdoors again. The Great War had ended a few years earlier, and the government was looking for young civilians to work as border patrol skiers. Nils loved skiing and was skilled at both cross-country and downhill skiing. Why not get paid for it?

Nils was hired as a patrol skier in 1922 and spent the next several years skiing along the border between Norway and Sweden. Each skier had a territory of two kilometers. Nils was glad to be outdoors, even though the job was dangerous. The isolation and cold put the patrollers at risk for frostbite, snow blindness and attacks by animals. They had no radios and were on their own if they got into trouble. The young men looked out for each other, and everyone had two check-ins per shift, but hours would go by on patrol without seeing another human being.

Nils did see reindeer, moose and foxes, and sometimes bears. One morning he was forced to test his slalom skills when a huge bull moose suddenly rushed at him from a grove of pines. Moose can run very fast, but Nils, skiing quickly, was able to evade the angry animal. It made an exciting story to tell his siblings at home that weekend.

Nils about to begin another risky day on the slopes

Nils about to begin another risky day on the slopes

Nils was ready for more such challenges, but the days were mainly quiet after the moose encounter. His breath became strong by breathing the clean air. Nils was grateful for that, and so was his mother. She was proud of her son for helping to support the family.

To amuse himself on his solitary patrols, Nils thought up stories. He imagined himself as a Viking ruler, patrolling his kingdom or leading his men on a march. Nils knew his stories were childish. He wouldn’t dare tell any of his friends that he was pretending to be a Viking as he skied back and forth on his assigned route, but at least his imagination kept his mind occupied.

One very windy day in October during his third year on the job, Nils encountered something that aroused a great deal of his interest, and it wasn’t from his imagination. Coming up onto the crest of the highest hill on his patrol, Nils saw what looked like black dots far in the distance, down the steep slope into a snowy valley. He squinted. They were still there. He rubbed his eyes. They were still there. Finally, Nils looked through his binoculars. His eyes weren’t playing tricks. The dots were real. They seemed to be in a pattern: laid out in three rows of four on the white expanse of snow, with one more dot set aside from the rest. He stared at them until his eyes began to hurt. Maybe I’m getting snow blindness after all, he thought. Better move on.

The mysterious dots were gone after a few days, but the young skier did not forget them. Because of his habit of telling stories to himself, Nils began to imagine that the black dots were the roofs of ancient Viking lodges. He knew this was silly. He had learned in school that the Vikings lived in coastal communities and never this far inland, but it was fun to imagine the Viking warriors and their lives of adventure.

Nils decided that if the dots reappeared he would document exactly where they were. He saw them once more, on another windy morning about four weeks after the first time. Nils used his skier’s compass to determine the exact longitude and latitude of his vantage point on the ridge and, with a stylus, scratched this information on the back of the brass compass. Nils was glad he had recorded their location, because the dots vanished again after another day. Fall turned into the winter of 1925 and soft, heavy snows fell week after week. Nils never saw the black dots again.

By now, Nils’ sisters and brother were doing well on their own, either in school, professions or marriage. One night soon after the wedding of the youngest girl, Nils’ mother sat down with her oldest son and released him from his obligation to the family.

All the children are grown and settled, she said. Your sister Karina and her husband have asked me to live with them, and I will gladly go. Now is the time for you to go, too, Nils. You became the man of the family when your father died. I am very proud of you. You bring honor to your father’s name of Nordstrom, and my family name of Johanson. I wish you much happiness.

Nils embraced his mother, tears in his eyes. With her head resting on his shoulder, he glanced up at the Johanson family crest which hung on the wall of the sitting room, and felt proud of his heritage. It wasn’t easy to do my duty, he thought to himself. But I am glad I did.

Life had many possibilities now, and Nils began to make plans. He tossed and turned as he lay in bed that night, mulling over things he might do and places he might go. Even though I’ve been skiing for years, I’ve never gotten anywhere, he thought to himself. I just went over the same two kilometers day after day!

What Nils desired most was to travel. If the Vikings could get all the way to the New World in their longships, he could easily do so by steamer. So Nils decided to immigrate to Canada. In preparation, he built a chest for his belongings. It was common for immigrants to travel with sturdy, simple wooden chests or trunks, but Nils made his a bit different. His name and destination were painted on the front of the chest, but he also carved Viking runes representing his initials: N.A.N. Finally, he painted the Johanson family crest on the lid of the chest.

Nils packed his simple belongings in his immigrant’s chest, said goodbye to his mother, and embarked on his journey. He safely arrived in Canada in 1926, just before his 27th birthday. Nils found work in Alberta as a laborer. He built roads and worked as a lumberjack. The work was hard and the climate was cold, but Nils was used to both. He enjoyed being on his own and making a good living.

Nils was often lonely, though, and more homesick than he thought he would be. After a little more than a year, he decided to end his adventure and go back to Sweden. He wasn’t sure what he would do for work, but he entertained the idea of investigating those 13 mysterious black dots he had seen down in the valley while he was on patrol.

However, a chance encounter changed his plans. Nils met Marie Sherman one morning when he stopped at a bakery in Calgary, Alberta, for a warm loaf of bread. Her charming smile did as much to warm the bakery as the ovens. Nils and 16-year-old Marie fell in love despite the 12-year difference in their ages, and Nils did not go back to Sweden after all. He had given up pretending to be a Viking, but he found his treasure in Marie. They married in 1928, eventually moving to British Columbia, where their daughter Yvonne was born in 1931.

So Nils Nordstrom was Gramps’ grandpa? April asked Josh.

That’s one way to put it, answered Josh with a smile.

When is Gramps in the story? And what were the black dots? April continued impatiently.

One thing at a time, Blossom! Gramps shows up pretty soon, in the next generation. Yvonne Nordstrom was his mother. She had quite a few children, too. Great-Great-Grandpa Kim was the second oldest of four, and the only boy.

What was he like when he was young? asked April.

A lot like your grandpa, laughed Leah. From what I understand, Kim was always working on a project or planning an adventure, even when he was little.

And he loved stories even then, added Josh. He lived with his grandmother and grandfather for a few years in the early 1960s when he was around seven years old. He called them Pappa and Nana.

Josh snapped his fingers. "Say! I just remembered something! Gramps dedicated his first book, Pumptitude, to Nana. Her picture is in it."

I’ll get it from your life chest, offered Leah as she stood up. Go ahead and tell April about Pappa and Nana.

Thanks, babe, Josh called as Leah walked down the hall to Josh’s study. Then he turned back to his granddaughter. Nana and Pappa loved Kim very much. And one of his favorite things was to sit on Pappa Nordstrom’s knee and listen to tales of the old country.

April smiled. That sounds like me and you.

It sure does, agreed Josh. Storytelling has been in our family for centuries. And Kim loved Vikings, too, just like you. Pappa had a little something to do with that.

My chores are all done, announced 7-year-old Kim one winter evening as he climbed onto Pappa Nordstrom’s lap. Can you tell me another story, Pappa? Please?

Is Nana happy with your work? asked Pappa.

Yes! called his wife from the kitchen. The trash pail has been scrubbed and the floor is nicely swept.

Good, good, said Pappa, patting Kim on the head. Let’s see. Have I told you about my adventures sailing my boat across the lake?

Yes, but I want to hear them again, said Kim as he snuggled close to Pappa in the old