There are two M. Nilssons. One of them is Magnus Nilsson.
Elvira, Elly’s Sister
Magnus Nilsson meets Elly several times. But he is also there when Oskar marries her sister. Oskar is happy and puts his mutilated arm around Magnus’s shoulders.
Elly, sister.
Elvira, sister.
“We met at a protest march. There were actually many who did in those days. And perhaps that wasn’t surprising. It was one of the few occasions we were all together at the same time. And you never knew who you would end up walking next to. You laughed at each other and said something. Then when the meeting was over, we had to get back to town. Nothing odd about that. It may sound a bit strange, but it wasn’t.
“We chatted and she clearly wasn’t bothered by the way I looked. In those days there were many who were injured. Sooner or later it happened to almost all workers. Many had had rickets. Others had coughing fits as we marched and sang and some even had to sit down by the side of the procession to get their strength back. Some were limping. Quite a few had lost a whole arm. I remember that for years there was an old man who carried one of the banners with his one arm. He was incredibly strong. The other arm had been torn off by a cutting machine. Right up by his shoulder. And there were many women too who were missing an arm or some fingers. It was almost normal. We used to go for coffee after marching. I suppose I must have asked if she would let me invite her. She replied that her name was Elvira and said, yes please. We went to some café. She told me she worked in the textile factory. She used to spin raw wool. She lived at home with her parents. They were seven children. She may have mentioned that one of them was called Elly, but I didn’t think anything of it. We talked about the demonstration. I remember her saying that she only knew the first verse of the song we’d been singing. She found reading so difficult, she said. And then I suddenly noticed that she kept narrowing her eyes because she couldn’t see properly. I asked her why she didn’t wear glasses and she said that then she would lose her job. But what about after work, I asked. She was afraid that some foreman would see her with them on. She did have a pair at home, however. It seems that her poor eyesight was congenital.
“Afterwards I walked her home. We decided to meet again the week after. She lived quite far out of town, where the houses were among the oldest and most dilapidated. I was actually quite pleased to have met her.
“I had no idea she was Elly’s sister. It was a strange coincidence.”
When Elvira died, Elly came to the funeral. She and Oskar sat next to each other at the crematorium. Oskar’s children sat behind. Then when Elly died, just one year later, Oskar saw it in the newspaper. Otherwise, he would have attended. I know that without him telling me.
There are sticky rings from beer bottles on the table. The place is quite full and Oskar sits in a corner nodding at the people who come and go. Most of them are men. It is an evening in the middle of the week.
Then Elvira arrives and many eyes turn to her as she stands in the doorway and looks for Oskar. When Elvira goes over and sits down at his table, there are some who smile and wink and nod at Oskar.
They order coffee. They stir their cups and this time it is harder for them to talk to each other.
Elvira is wearing a white dress. Elly gave it to her.
“That’s a nice dress.”
“You think so?”
“White looks nice. Would you like some more?”
“Yes, thanks. Thank you, that’s enough.”
“Don’t you take sugar?”
“No. Never.”
“I do. Always.”
“It tastes better without.”
“You think?”
They are sitting in the café and there is a buzz and a clatter. A grating sound of chairs scraping over the wooden floor. Cups and glasses chink.
Then comes the question and Oskar is expecting it.
“A blasting accident a year ago. The newspapers actually wrote that I was dead. But I made it.”
“How did it feel?”
“I don’t remember. Everybody asks me, but I have no memory of it. It all just went white I think. Like your dress.”
Elvira giggles and looks down. Oskar asks her how old she is.
“Twenty-two this year.”
“I’m twenty-four.”
“I thought you were older.”
“I’m not.”
Spoons stirring.
“Can I see you on Sunday?”
“I’ve got to look after my brothers and sisters so that Mor and Far can go to church.”
“Why don’t I help you?”
“Do you want to?”
“Yes. If you like.”
“Well, come at eleven then.”
After that they walk around town for a while. The seventh ofMay, 1912.
Elvira pours out coffee. Oskar is wearing his best clothes and sitting at the kitchen table. The younger brothers and sisters romp around. Elvira wants to show that she is firm and tells them not to jump about so much and to make less noise. Oskar says it doesn’t bother him.
They exchange a few sentences to get to the most important thing.
“When can we see each other again?”
“Some evening.”
“Wednesday?”
“Thursday’s better.”
And Oskar begins to take Elvira out on Thursday evenings.
He tells Magnus about Elvira. Magnus gives a little smile and nods.
“We might come back here for a while.”
“Do. I can go out.”
“No. You don’t need to.”
“I’m quite happy to. As long as it doesn’t get too late.”
“It won’t.”
And Elvira does come. They sit there even more quietly. They sit at the kitchen table, and only just before Elvira has to leave Oskar reaches out and takes her hand. Left hand, left hand. Elvira is prepared for it.
By writing in to a magazine advice column or calling the Swedish Meteorological Institute, you can find out what the weather was like then. Was it raining as Elvira walked home? The newspaper archives reveal that the textile industry in which Elvira worked was doing well, with strong sales and high production figures.
But they are sitting at the kitchen table. Left hand in left hand. Empty coffee cups. A fly buzzing in the window. Magnus Nilsson walking along the streets.
It hurts when Oskar has to pee. He feels a tightening and tugging in his abdomen. It is a pain that he will have to live with. But now he is lying on the kitchen sofa. Magnus is snoring in his room. Elvira left several hours ago. Soon they will all be working at their different places. Oskar feels his penis starting to rise. It has begun to heal and the doctors have said that he can have children. It rises and Oskar senses that it is short. But it does lift and stiffen. Oskar reaches for it with his hand. He thinks about Elvira and then realises that he can function.
He gets up for a while. Sits down at the kitchen table in his nightshirt, and dreams.
“I began picking her up from work whenever I could make it. The smell there was awful. Just next door there was some factory where they made something which stank. Elvira worked in a sooty brick building. I remember that I used to press my ear against the wall and then you could hear the machines inside. You felt the walls vibrating. Then, as soon as the siren started to howl, they all came pouring out at the same time. It looked as if they were running away. Elvira was never among the first. She used to wash very carefully. Many of them never bothered. They must have been too tired. Or else they wanted to get away as quickly as possible. When the siren began to blare, I used to cross over to the other side of the street and wait there. I suppose that was a bit childish. I was always nervous before she came out through the factory gate. It was one of the times when I met her there that she told me Elly was her sister.”