The Lily Pond (19 page)

“There wasn’t a family who could take both of us in.”

“I don’t understand that,” says May. “Every family has a house of their own out here; you’d think they had plenty of space.”

When they reach the crest of the hill, Stephie stops, as she always does. May gasps.

“I never imagined it was so enormous—the sea, I mean.”

In front of their eyes the sea is endless—green ice near the shore, dark blue water farther out, and with the clear blue sky arching over it all. Snow-covered skerries rise out of the water like the backs of enormous whales.

“You know,” says May, “when I see all this, I can actually almost understand why some people can believe in God.”

spite of May’s promise not to say anything to Aunt Märta about God, Stephie is still uneasy about what their first meeting will be like. She’s worried that Aunt Märta will consider May pushy and disrespectful of her elders, and that May will see Aunt Märta as rigid and strict.

But although they’re different, Stephie thinks as she and May walk down the hill, May and Aunt Märta have much in common: they are equally honest, courageous, and dependable. Both of them know what they want, and neither cares what others might think or say.

Stephie wishes she were more like them. She’d like to be spared her insecurity and her doubts. She’d like not to spend so much time brooding, and not to be always trying to adapt to others. She’d like not to be afraid.

“Come in,” she says, opening the front door for May.

Things go better than she dared to hope. May introduces herself in a well-mannered way and thanks Aunt Märta for inviting her. She wipes her shoes carefully before stepping on Aunt Märta’s newly washed hall floor. She eats a hearty meal, but not greedily, and she answers Aunt Märta’s questions politely.

Aunt Märta listens with interest to May’s chatter about her younger brothers and sisters, about school and their teachers and the boat trip out. May’s stories make her smile.

After dinner, May offers to wash the dishes. Aunt Märta declines, saying, “Of course not. You are a guest in our house.” So they compromise: Stephie will wash and May will dry.

By the time they’re done, dark has fallen. Stephie and May decide to spend the evening inside. They get a mattress from the attic and make a bed for May on the floor of Stephie’s room.

“What a sweet teddy,” says May. “Have you had him ever since you were little?”

“That’s right.”

“I had a teddy, too,” May tells her. “But I had to hand him down to Britten, who handed him down to Kurre and Olle. They poked his eyes out, and took off his arms and legs playing doctor. They even operated on his stomach, so all the sawdust ran out.”

Stephie imagines the mutilated teddy bear, and the thought gives her goose bumps even though they’re only talking about a stuffed animal.

“Isn’t it awful?” May laughs.

They’re sitting in Stephie’s bed in their nightgowns. May picks up Stephie’s old teddy.

“You stay away from naughty boys,” she warns him. “Watch out or there will be nothing left of you but your fur!”

Stephie laughs, too, now.

“Well, he doesn’t have all that much fur left, either. I wore it all off hugging him when I was little.”

“By the way, I bumped into Sven the other day,” May says.

“You did? Where?”

“On Kaptensgatan. He came walking along early one morning, and he had the dog with him. Strange place to take a dog for a walk.”

For a moment, Stephie considers telling May about having seen Sven in Mayhill before. She might be able to figure out what he’s doing there all the time. But May has already continued.

“I told him I was coming out to visit you, and he asked me to say hello and to thank you for the non-Christmas present. What was that all about?”

Stephie tells her the whole story about the letter opener, and about Sven’s not wanting to celebrate Christmas. Afterward it doesn’t feel right to start talking again about what Sven was doing on Kaptensgatan, as if she would be making too much of the matter if she brought it back up.

Still, she can’t get Sven off her mind.

“May?” Stephie whispers when they’ve turned out the light and May has moved down to her mattress.

“Mmmhmm?”

“What do you think of Sven?”

“He’s all right, I guess.”

All right!
How could anyone have such cool feelings about someone like Sven? Stephie feels a little annoyed with May and doesn’t say any more.

After a while, May speaks up. “Why did you ask me that?”

“No special reason.”

“Are you angry?”

“No.”

“Want to talk some more, or should we go to sleep?”

“Let’s sleep. Good night.”

“Good night.”

May falls asleep almost instantly. When Stephie hears her tranquil breathing, she has second thoughts. Oh, how she would love to talk to someone about her feelings for Sven. She feels as if she could explode from keeping them inside.

May is her best school friend and the person she ought to talk to. If only she hadn’t gotten herself entangled in a web of lies!

After some time, she falls asleep and dreams she’s looking for Sven in a house with hundreds of rooms.

The next day is bright and sunny. They take Stephie’s red sled with them to the big hill by the school. Nellie’s there, and she and May hit it off right away.

“May, May,” shouts Nellie. “Look, I’m going down the steep part!”

There’s no sign of Vera. Then, just when Stephie and May are on their way down the very steepest side, another sled approaches from behind at high speed. Stephie is steering and can’t possibly turn around. The other sled swerves closer, only a foot or so away. Stephie has to turn out of its path, and she and May end up in a snowdrift. Lying there, they watch Vera continue down the hill, her red hair flying.

“Who was that?” May asks. “What did she do that for?”

“Vera,” says Stephie.

“Your friend?”

“That’s her.”

By the time they’ve gotten to their feet, brushed all the snow off themselves, and made their way down to the bottom of the hill, Vera is halfway up again. By the time they get up, she’s already on her way down.

After a while, Stephie waits at the bottom for Vera, who has to come down again to get home. May sleds down once with Nellie in front of her.

“What did you do that for?” Stephie asks when Vera comes to a halt in front of her.

“Do what?”

“You squeezed us into the drift.”

“Sorry,” Vera says, but Stephie can see she doesn’t mean it.

“Wait a minute so I can introduce you to May.”

“No time,” says Vera. “I’ve got to get home.”

She walks off, pulling her sled.

Stephie’s angry. If Vera has made up her mind not to have anything to do with May, Stephie’s not going to go out of her way to persuade her.

Two days later, though, after she has walked May to the boat, Stephie goes to Vera’s.

“Is she gone now?” Vera asks. “The girl from the city?”

“Yes,” says Stephie.

“Good.”

That’s their whole discussion about May’s visit.

letter arrives on the second-to-last day of Christmas vacation, the day before Stephie is due back in Göteborg. Uncle Evert picked it up when he was seeing to the
Diana
.

“I just happened to stop in at the post office,” he says. “That turned out to be lucky. Otherwise it would have ended up lying there until after you left.”

Stephie takes the long, thin envelope from him. The address in Göteborg, care of Söderberg, has been crossed out, and next to it someone has written
Please forward to
and the address to the island.

But what grabs Stephie’s attention is not so much the address as the stamp. It’s not American; it’s not even Spanish or Cuban. The picture on the little brown square with toothed edges is of Hitler standing at a podium. Under the
picture is the text
Deutsches Reich
in angular Gothic print. Peering closely, Stephie manages to read the postmark:
Vienna, December 23, 1940
.

They’re still there.

They didn’t get out.

“What is it?” asks Uncle Evert. “Is something wrong?”

“This letter was mailed in Vienna,” Stephie tells him.

Uncle Evert looks concerned. “Open it, for heaven’s sake. No matter what it says, it can’t be worse than the uncertainty.”

He passes her his pocketknife. With trembling hands Stephie opens the envelope and unfolds the single sheet of thin paper.