Somehow that idea comforted Arne. Wherever Gustav was, even if he was in serious difficulties, he’d be doing something to try to put things right. He remembered how quick and sure his brother had been last summer on the Laks when the rocks had fallen. And Gustav had weathered bad storms before this. Captain Olsen, too. They were two good men, Father said. And they had a good crew of Norwegian sailors. Arne picked up one of the little ships and began a careful job of sandpapering. Even after supper he came out and found comfort in working. When Gustav came home, the surprise would be ready.
He lingered in the kitchen next morning for a few minutes after the others had gone about their various duties. He wanted to talk to Mother about preparations for that trip up the mountain. But more than that, he wanted very much to say something encouraging to her.
It was hard to know just what to say. The Dalens came from a long line of seafaring people, and no one talked much about it when there were storms and ships were overdue. But Arne couldn’t bear that bleak look on his mother’s face. It was not at all like her. She was a cheerful, busy person, almost as full of lively plans and ideas as Arne himself.
It didn’t take long to settle about the lunch. Mother promised to make him some extra nice smörbröd, or sandwiches. At a picnic like that, all the sandwiches would be spread out and shared, and hers must do both Arne and herself credit. She promised to decorate them in all kinds of fancy patterns. She would put in some of the bakkelse, too, and other cakes.
Arne was well pleased with this, but he didn’t quite know how to go on to the next subject. Then Bergel’s words of comfort came back to him. They had made him feel better. Maybe Mother would like them too. He cleared his throat and said gruffly, “Gustav’s ship is the Christmas Star, you know, Mother. It’ll come in safe, I’m just sure it will.”
Tears sprang into his mother’s eyes and brimmed over, and Arne wished earnestly that he had not spoken at all. He didn’t know whether to keep still now or to try again, so he just put his arm around her and gave her a quick, fervent hug.
She swallowed hard, shook herself, and wiped her eyes fiercely. “There now, Arne,” she said, hustling the dishes off the table. “Of course it will come in.” And somehow she managed to smile. “Run to school now, boy. Don’t be late.”
When Arne came home at noon, a lunch was ready packed for him to take up the mountain. He got out his flashlight and skis and put all the things together. His mother tried to talk cheerfully of all these preparations as they ate their lunch, but her sentences trailed off in a way not at all like her.