“And now, outside with both of you,” she said, because she didn’t want us to hide. She wanted us to do what we always did, despite her dream, and it was clear that she would not be contradicted.

“And take Alaska with you,” she said. Alaska stood up.

It always takes a while for something big to get up fully, even when still young.

We crossed the apple orchard to Elsbeth’s house. It was four o’clock in the afternoon. On my fingers, I counted how many hours were left until we could be sure everyone survived Selma’s dream. There were eleven.

Alaska stopped under an apple tree and found a bird that had fallen from its nest. It was still alive and already had feathers but couldn’t fly yet. I wanted to take the bird straight to Selma, convinced she could raise it so that, although it was born a titmouse, it would later trace artistic circles in the air over the Uhlheck.

“Let’s take it with us,” I said.

“No, let’s leave it in peace,” Martin objected.

“Then it will die.”

“Yes. Then it will die.”

I tried to give Martin a look from Selma’s television show and said, “We can’t let that happen.”

“Yes, we can,” Martin said. “It’s the way of the world,” he added, which had also been said in Selma’s show. “Let’s just hope a fox comes soon.”

Then the twins from the upper village ran up. They’d apparently discovered the bird before we did.

“We went to get sticks to kill it,” they said.

“Not a chance,” I said.

“We’re just putting an end to its suffering,” the twins said, the same way Palm would say, “I’m just doing my part to protect the environment,” before going off to shoot animals in the forest.

“Can’t we just wait for a fox?” I asked, but the twins were already beating with their sticks. The first blow missed. The second slipped and wasn’t decisive enough. It just grazed the bird’s head. I saw its little eyes turn red before Martin took my head and pressed my face into his neck. “Don’t watch,” he said. I could still hear the blows of the sticks and I heard Martin yell: “You idiots, just get it over with.”

I decided I would marry Martin one day because I believed that someone who would spare you from having to watch the world take its course had to be the right person.

“Oh, it’s just you. That’s a nice change,” Elsbeth said when we stood at her door, because half the village had already rung her doorbell that day.