Fair Play Read Online Free PDF Page B

by post, she would have to deliver it in person, and the sooner the better.
    Mari read the letter and walked around the island for a while, slowly. When she came back, Jonna said, “We can always sleep in the tent. And it will only be for a couple of days?”
    â€œYes. I’m sure it’ll be only a couple of days.”
    Brunström’s island taxi put Helga ashore on a June evening. She greeted them quietly and solemnly as if at a funeral. Helga was still short, but she had grown in girth. Her face bore an expression of reserved obstinacy. They walked up to the cottage, where a fish soup stood ready on the stove, and had a hard time getting a conversation started. Helga did not want to unpack. “Tomorrow,” she said. “Tomorrow is Her birthday.”
    In the tent, Jonna observed that Helga had brought an awful lot of luggage.
    â€œYes,” Mari said. “Let’s read for a while.”
    The cat came in to go to bed.
    The next morning, Helga’s Scrapbook lay in the middle of the table. The cover was decorated with a scout emblem in gold. She had lit a candle that burned with an invisible flame in the sunlight.
    â€œNow you should sit down,” Helga said. “Mari, here is the book of her life.” And she began her narrative. Solemnly, in detail, she told of all the expectations and disappointments she’d experienced in the course of her long, patient effort to give Mari’s mother her rightful place in the sacred garden of memory. The photographs were overexposed and faded. Shadowy, barely visible figures did things that evidently mattered to them. But Helga described and explained everything that had occurred.
    â€œMari, turn to page twenty-three. Did you know that your mother took first prize in block lettering in 1904? I’ll read from the school’s annual report ... Did you know that she was an accomplished marksman? Page twenty-nine. First prize in Stockholm 1908 and second prize in Sundsvall 1907. And did you know that in 1913 she left scouting? And why?”
    â€œI know, “Mari answered. “It had become over-organized and she was tired of it all.”
    â€œNo, no. She wasn’t tired. She surrendered her mantle in order to devote herself entirely to Art. Turn to page forty-five ...”
    â€œExcuse me,” Jonna said. “I think I’ll go out for a while and feed the cat. Wouldn’t you like some coffee?”
    â€œNo, thank you,” Helga said. “This is too important.”
    A little while later, Mari came rushing out of the cottage. “Did you hear that?” she cried. “The sacred garden of memory! Did you know that my mother had the secondlongest hair in Sweden in 1908! That little lock of hair in cellophane makes me sick. She has no right to it!”
    â€œStop,” Jonna said. “You know what I think? I think you should ask her if you can’t read the rest of that book by yourself, alone. Say it nicely, don’t sound annoyed. Tell her it’s personal and important for you, and then you can go out to the end of the point and she can’t tell if you’re reading it or not.”
    â€œOf course I’ll read it!” Mari burst out. “I can’t not! And why is it any business of yours anyway?”
    Jonna said, “Two people on an island can manage, even when things get bad. But three is worse. Mari, she’s not trying to steal your mother. Listen to what I’m saying.”
    Mari took Helga’s scrapbook out to the end of the point. It was fine, warm weather with a light breeze from the water.
    When Jonna went back to the cottage, Helga had unpacked. All the drawings and watercolors Mari’s mother had done as a student were lined up against the walls.
    â€œDon’t say anything,” Helga said. “It’s a surprise. Wait till Mari comes back.”
    They waited a long time.
    Finally Jonna went out and rang the big ship’s bell that was