The Bell in the Lake by Lars Mytting

Author:Lars Mytting
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Abrams
Published: 2020-04-22T00:00:00+00:00

I Swear on Meyer’s Phrase Book

Astrid saw that the trout was not properly hooked, and when Gerhard knelt down to pick it up, it freed itself. It thrashed about on a rock at the water’s edge, with one flick of its tail and a second’s contact with the water it would escape. She leaped forwards and shot her fingers under its gills, pulled it up and broke its neck, the blood ran over her hands and they exchanged glances.

She went over to a patch of melting snow, drove her hands into the coarse, watery crystals and rubbed them so hard they turned a flaming red, she shook them and pressed them against her skirt, took off her scarf and tied it back on neatly, and for a moment he stood looking at her curls, shamelessly, and when her hands were dry, she took his sketchbook, sat down on the rock and looked through his drawings.

Back at home, they were resting after their mid-morning snack. She had sneaked off, in a rush, afraid that somebody might see her. She opened up the sketchbook at a drawing of the church and asked him which was the most valuable – the church bells or portal? He shook his head and said they were different. “But I know what the portal is worth in money,” he said.

“Oh?”

“We’ve had a letter. My clients are demanding that payments be reduced by three hundred kroner. The pastor was terribly upset when I told him.”

She put the book aside. “He were mistaken,” she said. “The pastor. The portal was nay burned.”

Gerhard Schönauer put down the rod, and began leaping about, waving his arms in the air. “Du sagst – I mean, you’re saying … the portal … ist nicht in Flammen aufgegangen? It still exists? Is it intact? Where is it?”

“I have seen it. It was na’ spoiled. It has been used as a door, on a … a building.”

Gerhard Schönauer continued to pace about, uttering half-phrases in German.

“And you’ve seen it? Yourself? But what will … who owns it now?”

“It be somewhere belongs to our farm.”

He stopped.

“Have you known about this all along? But … what do you want in payment?”

“A promise.”

“A promise of money?”

“Nay. That ye shall never look upon the metal of the church bells. Never.”

“Is that all?” He knitted his brows and smiled.

She got up.

“Unglaublich,” he said. “I don’t believe it. You’re not teasing me, are you? The portal does really exist?”

She nodded and let the silence work for itself.

“But then I need to know why I’m not to see the bells,” he said.

“’Cos of the old village legend. ‘If an unwed man sets eyes on the Sister Bells naked, he shall die.’”

“Die?”

“Aye. Die.”

“But it’s impossible to demolish the church without seeing them! And I can’t lie to the people who sent me. I must have the church bells.”

“In’t no reason for ye to lie. Dresden shall have its church bells. Old church bells. They shall be ready to load on the sleds when winter comes.

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