Interlibrary Loan by Gene Wolfe

Author:Gene Wolfe
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Tom Doherty Associates

9

THE ONLY VILLAGE ON CORPSE ISLAND

When we tied up in Lichholm’s little harbor next day, the lugger was already there. That surprised me; I thought we would make better time than a fishing boat with sails could. The bottom fell out of my surprise when a second lugger rounded the point, giving me a good laugh at my own expense.

Both these luggers were fishing boats, the ancestors of the Three Sisters. Later I found out there were more than a dozen of them, all about the same size, all with small engines they rarely used, and all spreading lug sails on two masts.

The gray smoke and the name of the island had led me to expect something pretty grim, but the village looked clean and bright thanks to the new-fallen snow. As far as I could see, there were no big houses and no big stores, no big buildings of any kind. There wasn’t a whole lot of money around here, in other words. Just about all the houses were cottages, with steep roofs that had lofty attics under them. It was all one room up in those attics sometimes, or maybe two or three attic rooms with slanted ceilings—take your pick. When a thing’s simple enough it can be hard for it to look old, and that was how it was with those cottages. Unpainted stone walls and gray slates instead of shingles. Stone was cheap here, but wood was for boats and maybe furniture—only there wasn’t really enough for either one; more wood had to be brought up from the south. The shops I saw had no window displays to show what they sold. You knew they were shops from the weathered signs hung out front. A needle stuck into a spool of thread is one I remember. Another was a cow’s horn with white foam dripping from the big end; it meant the shop sold ale. From what I’ve said, you can probably tell I kind of liked the place; I would have liked it a lot more if the people hadn’t stared so long at strangers like me.

Dr. Fevre was boarding with a family in the village, but they didn’t have room for all four of us. They asked around and eventually Audrey and I landed with an old couple named Eiriksdatter. The old folks had six kids, but their kids were grown-ups now, with little stone cottages and big families of their own. The boys were fishermen, all four of them; and none had drowned. Mr. and Mrs. Eiriksdatter sounded proud and happy when they told us about that; it seemed like a good many fishermen drowned. Later on I noticed that when the old woman talked about it she said it like I wrote it: “Not one has drowned.” The old man never corrected her, but he said, “None have drowned yet.” It makes a real big difference.

We got the kids’ old rooms, of course. They were up under the roof and pretty small, so we never did much more than sleep there.

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