Bergstrom.
“May I say a few words?” Miss Bergstrom asks the head teacher.
“Of course.”
“It is always a pleasure to reward good students,” Miss Bergstrom begins. “But there is particular satisfaction in presenting an award to a pupil who is so gifted that she is now at the top of the class in spite of the fact that she didn’t speak a word of Swedish a year ago. I wish you the very best of luck, Stephanie.”
The book they hand her is a thick one, with a beautiful cover. The gold lettering on the cover reads: Nils Holgersson’s Wonderful Journey Through Sweden. On the flyleaf Miss Bergstrom has written, in her elegant script:
To Stephanie Steiner, 7 June 1940
May this book aid you in becoming even better acquainted with your new homeland and its language.
From your teacher,
Agnes Bergstrom
Back in the pew, Stephie leafs through the book, fascinated by the illustrations. When the organ music begins, Britta has to elbow her in the side again to stand up.
“The summer flowers are blooming…,” they sing. Stephie finds it a lovely song, although she doesn’t understand the whole text. She’s happy about the book, and about what Miss Bergstrom said. And yet she’s feeling sad. Ordinarily she would have been glad summer vacation was beginning. But a summer vacation that doesn’t end with going back to school isn’t a real summer vacation.
When fall comes, she’ll be taking home economics two days a week. “Learning to run a household,” as Aunt Marta puts it. But there’s so much else to learn in the world!
After the ceremony they return to their classrooms, and their teachers pass out the grades. “Final Grades,” it says at the top of the card. Her name, the date, and the grades are written in blue ink.
Mathematics and geometry: passed with great distinction. She has top marks in art as well. All her grades are good except for Swedish, where she gets only a “pass.” But in the margin Miss Bergstrom has written: Stephanie’s native tongue is not Swedish. In consideration of that fact, she has made excellent progress during the school year.
Biking home, Stephie smells lilacs as she passes the yards. The apple trees have almost finished blooming. White blossoms now cover the ground around the trunks like huge snowflakes.
“Take off your best dress” is the first thing Aunt Marta says when Stephie comes through the door. “We’ve got to get things ready for the summer guests today.”
“Here are my grades,” Stephie tells her.
Aunt Marta glances at the report card. “Well done,” she says, handing it back.
“I got a book, too. An achievement award.”
“You don’t say,” Aunt Marta answers. Her voice sounds a bit wobbly.
Stephie goes up to her room and changes to an everyday dress. They clean the entire house, every nook and cranny, just as thoroughly as at Christmastime. Tomorrow the summer guests arrive.
Stephie, Aunt Marta, and Uncle Evert will be moving down into the basement, which has one room and a simple kitchen. Stephie is going to sleep on a trundle bed in the kitchen.
Almost everybody on the island rents out to summer guests. Some people just rent out a room, but most turn their entire house over to the summer tenants and live in their basement. Sylvia’s family has a second house that stands empty all winter and is rented out just for the summer. So they go on living above the shop, as usual.
Stephie empties her dresser drawers and carries all her things down to the basement. There’s a chest of drawers for her in the boiler room, since there’s no space in the little kitchen.
She puts her photographs, jewelry box, and diary into an empty shoebox and stores it under the trundle bed. She leaves the painting of Jesus on the wall for the summer guests.
thirty-five
There are six people in all: an older couple, their two adult children, the daughter’s fiance, and their housekeeper. Stephie hears Aunt Marta call the man “Doctor.” Like Stephie’s father. He has gray hair and glasses, and looks tired.
His wife is tall and graceful. She was clearly a beautiful young woman once. The daughter is nice-looking, with curly blond hair. She and her fiance are always holding hands. The son is tall, with contemplative gray eyes and brown hair that hangs down over his forehead.
The best thing is that they have a dog, a brown-and-white fox terrier that jumps right up on Stephie and licks her hand.
“Putte likes you,” the doctor’s daughter says.
“I hope you aren’t afraid of dogs?” the doctor’s wife asks.
“Oh, no,” says Stephie, patting Putte on the head. “I love dogs.”
“You may walk him,” the doctor’s wife tells her, “whenever you like.”
Stephie helps the summer guests carry in their belongings. The son will have her bedroom. She hears his mother call him, and learns that his name is Sven. She wonders how old he is. Seventeen, maybe eighteen.
When everything is in order, the doctor’s wife gives Stephie a coin.
“Thank you for helping,” she says.
Stephie blushes. “You don’t need to pay me.”
“Oh, please don’t be offended,” says the doctor’s wife. “Buy yourself some sweets. Incidentally, where do you come from?”
“From Vienna,” Stephie tells her, putting the coin in her dress pocket. “Thank you very much.”
That afternoon Stephie goes to Auntie Alma’s. Their summer guests won’t be arriving until the next day. Auntie Alma, Nellie, Elsa, and John are just moving the last of their things down to the basement.
“I heard you got a book as an award at school,” Auntie Alma says.
“Yes, I did.”
“Well, I want you to know how proud Nellie was of her big sister when she came home and told us. You’re certainly a clever girl, I must say.”
“Not that it will matter,” Stephie answers.
“What do you mean?”
“Being clever at school. Since I’m not to be allowed to continue anyway.”
“To grammar school?”
Stephie nods.
“Well, you have to understand Marta and Evert’s situation,” Auntie Alma tells her. “It’s very expensive to have a child who boards in Goteborg. Not to mention the books and all the other costs.”
“I think Uncle Evert would let me go. Aunt Marta’s the one who’s against it.”
Auntie Alma sits quietly for a few minutes.
“Has it ever occurred to you that Marta might not want to see you go off to Goteborg?” she asks. “That she would miss you?”
It’s so ridiculous Stephie has to laugh. Aunt Marta, miss her!
“She doesn’t even like me,” she answers. “I can’t imagine why she took me in.”
“Has Marta ever told you about Anna-Lisa?” Auntie Alma asks. “Or has Evert, for that matter?”
