IVY FROM ELSBETH’S POINT OF VIEW

“Luisa will have a visitor from Japan soon,” Selma said to Elsbeth in October, and made her swear not to tell a soul, because she didn’t know if it was all right with me for her to tell anyone. Elsbeth was able to keep the secret all the way to the general store.

Elsbeth had brought the shopkeeper one of my mother’s Autumn Dreams because he liked to hang seasonal decorations in his shop. And she needed a mousetrap. The shopkeeper was just moving the alcoholic beverages next to the cash register to better keep an eye on them. The twins from the upper village had stolen schnapps more than once.

“If you burn dirt from the cemetery in a frying pan, the thief will bring back what he stole,” Elsbeth told him. “Or you could just put mousetraps between the bottles. I need one, by the way.”

When the shopkeeper brought Elsbeth a mousetrap and asked her how she was, it burst out of her. “Luisa is going to have a visitor from Japan, a Buddhist monk.”

“Now, that’s something,” the shopkeeper said, and walked Elsbeth to the cash register. “Are they celibate?”

“No idea,” Elsbeth said, and examined the mousetrap. It was the kind that broke the mouse’s neck. “I am, at any rate.”

“It would be good to know,” the shopkeeper said, “in case Luisa is in love with him.”

“Who’s celibate?” asked Farmer Häubel’s granddaughter, who had just walked into the store.

“I am,” Elsbeth said.

“And the monk from Japan Luisa’s in love with,” the shopkeeper added, counting out the money for the Autumn Dream into Elsbeth’s hand.

“He must be incredibly handsome,” Elsbeth said.

“Then he certainly isn’t celibate,” Farmer Häubel’s granddaughter said, and Elsbeth objected indignantly that it had nothing to do with looks.

“How do you know that?” asked the shopkeeper. “Have you seen him? Are there photographs?”

“No, unfortunately not,” Elsbeth replied, “but that’s what Luisa told Selma.”

The optician came up to them carrying a package of frozen fish casserole, enough for exactly one person, and warm compresses for his back. “Listen to this,” he said. “When we look at something, it can disappear from our sight, but if we do not try to see this something, it cannot disappear. Do you understand it?”

“That’s the most inventive justification for shoplifting that I’ve ever heard,” the shopkeeper said.

Elsbeth held the mousetrap out toward the optician. “Did you know that dead mice can actually help with eye complaints?” she asked. “I can bring some to you in your store if I catch any.”

“Thanks, but no,” the optician said.

“Luisa is in love with a Buddhist in Japan who is not celibate and is coming to visit in three weeks,” Farmer Häubel’s granddaughter said.