The trees are in leaf already, when one evening Ella notices a large lump on Francis’ stomach. Francis now is asleep more than awake, but she is frightened. She calls the doctor. The doctor says that Francis has a hernia, and must go to the hospital for an operation. The ambulance comes and takes Francis away.

The house seems to Ella so empty, so silent and eerie. She drags the collapsible bed into the kitchen and spends the whole night wide awake. The amaryllii have already finished blooming, but they still have not been taken outside. How much could she have done in the garden, with Francis exhausting her so. But now the end is near. Dear God, why could You not let him go peacefully, without the added burden of a hernia? But now they will all come here. They will decide about the funeral. This funeral will unite them all. She will see her granddaughters and great granddaughter. Then she’ll have an idea, to whom she should leave the house. She will know.

The next morning, climbing up to clean Francis’ room, Ella falls down the spiral stairs. Such a strange feeling. She lies there, understanding all, but she can’t move, nor call out for help. She wants to yell, but it comes out as:

“Brumbrumbrumbrum.”

She lies like this all day. In the evening her son finds her.

Then all happens like on a merry-go-round. She is taken to the hospital. Her daughters and granddaughters arrive there, and argue with each other.

“Now, calm down, calm yourselves,” she says, but it comes out as: “Yupyupyupyup …”

But where is Francis? Where has Francis gone off to? Why doesn’t Francis come to see her?

She is brought home from the hospital. They settle her in the kitchen. A strange woman and the daughter she had wronged take care of her.

“Brumbrumbrumbrum.”

Where is Francis? What have they done with Francis?

And why are they watering those amaryllii all the time?

They must be carried outside and put somewhere under a bush.

Not quite in the sun, not quite in the shade. Then they must be neglected for the whole summer. Make them thirst for water.

Ella pushes away the spoon of porridge offered by the strange woman and says to her:

“Harden up, toughen up, harden up.”

But the nurse does not understand her.

The Son

When Maria returns from the woods, the rainwater has flooded the fields up to her knees. She, a tiny drenched piece of chaff. The heavy basket of wild mushrooms is dragging her to the ground. Her old dog has vanished. Maybe the rain has washed him away. She has never experienced such rainsqualls in all her life. The water has flowed from the woods and rushed down the hill like a water fall. Maria hangs onto an aspen tree not to give in to the floods. Why did they take the dog and not the basket of mushrooms? With her last bit of strength she crosses the doorstep. The ones who had stayed at home – another dog, a bitch and the cat – in their delight at her return, jump up at her, almost knocking her down. Maria collapses on the bench beside the old hearth and cries. The dogs first hurry to find the old dog, then they return and nuzzle Maria’s wet cheeks. For a while the three of them have a cry for the old dog taken by the floods.