The Schoolhouse
That spring, soon after Sven had come back from the herring fishery, old Joel Elversson was asked by the Priest at Applum if he would care to undertake the building of the new schoolhouse.
Joel had done a good deal of building work before in the parish, and so cheaply that he had made but little for himself. And this was perhaps the reason why he was chosen now, though many might well have thought him too old for the work.
As soon as Mor Thala heard of the proposal, she at once declared that Joel was no longer able to undertake work of such responsibility, and her husband did not altogether oppose her view. But he pointed out that it would be hard if the parish were forced to get in a stranger for the work. And he himself would gladly have had some share in building a new school for the children, who had for long had to put up with the old and dark and draughty building that served at present.
“You should see the plans,” he said to Mor Thala. “The things they hit on nowadays to make all fine and easy. They’d no such contrivances in my young days.”
“You’re set on that building work yourself, that’s plain to see,” said his wife. “It’s my belief you’ve promised to take it on already.”
The old man looked embarrassed.
“I’d not have done it if it wasn’t that I’d a grown son in the house,” he said.
“But surely you should have asked him first,” said his wife. So much foresight and sharpness on the part of her husband was a surprise to her. Sven had been going about for some days looking moody and depressed; it seemed impossible to get him to undertake any work at all.
“I don’t think Sven would regret it if he did take to building work,” said Joel. “A man that’s to live in his own house ought to know a bit about timber and foundations and the like. But if he won’t help me. I’ll have to say I can’t do it after all.”
It was a strange thing to her that her husband should ever think of getting Sven to work on a building connected with the Church, in a place where the general ill-will against him seemed stronger than anywhere else.
Sven was present when they talked it over, but said nothing at first. He knew well enough what was in his father’s mind; it was his one idea and aim to get him to move about among folk. As to the failure of the Naiad cruise, Joel had merely said it had turned out far better than could be expected, and he had nothing but praise for his son. Sven himself had still but one desire, to hide himself away at home, but he felt now that his father would not permit him, until he had seen once more how impossible it was for his fellow men to forget the feeling of abhorrence with which they regarded him.
“I don’t think Father ought to give it up now,” he said. “I’ll lend a hand gladly as far as I’m able.”
Joel was highly pleased at this, and that very day he took Sven with him to make a round of visits to the others concerned: merchants, carpenters, masons, and workmen.
Almost against his will, Sven Elversson soon found himself keenly interested in the building, and his father let him take the lead. He was allowed to superintend the work, and to determine how it should be done. Grimön lies some distance from the mainland, and Sven did not care to waste so much time in journeys backward and forward, but lived close to the site while the work was in progress. Joel himself also began to tire of the everlasting trips from the island in to Applum, and for several weeks he stayed at home, leaving his son to take entire charge.
Whenever he went in to see how things were going, he invariably returned well pleased. His wife asked anxiously each time if there had been no expression of dissatisfaction among the Applum folk at Sven’s taking over charge, but Joel was always able to reassure her.
“I met Israel Jonsson yesterday,” he said, “the head of the council, and I asked him what he thought of the new schoolhouse. ‘Well, Joel,’ he said, ‘I won’t deny that we Applum folk were in two minds at first about getting your boy take over the work. But I think I can say now that both the school council and the parish council and all the rest would think twice about giving it elsewhere. When we see how he puts in granite under blocks instead of common stone, as it was thought, and find him building the walls of heavy timber, instead of thin planks that the architect thought would do, why, if there’s any that bear him ill-will, they’d better put it in their pockets and do the sensible thing.’”
Mor Elversson began to understand now that Joel had accepted the contract solely and entirely in order to give Sven a chance of proving his worth and making friends. It was a kindly thought, she was forced to admit, but she was less confident now, and dared not believe it would succeed.
Next time Joel came back from the building site, her first question was whether Sven was still getting on, and if he had had no trouble with any of the people there.
“I’ll not tell you what I think myself,” answered Joel, “for you might not believe me. But I’ll tell you word for word what Gunnar Markusson, that lives close by, said to me yesterday when I met him on the round:
“‘I’ll admit, Joel,’ he says, ‘that we were a bit uneasy in the parish about letting Sven Elversson take charge and build the new schoolhouse. But I will say now that, to my mind, the ratepayers would do well not to let their feelings run away with them, when it’s a case of a public benefactor like Sven. He’s putting in smoothed boards now, where we’d agreed we’d have to be content with unplanned wood. And he’s using better paint than we’d reckoned on. He’s roofing with tiles, instead of the tarred felt that was all we thought we could run to. And instead of cement steps at the entrance, he’s making stone. It’s this way with that boy of yours, that he’ll have nothing but first-class work, and for all that it seems he’s asking no more for the building than if he’d followed the plans from the first.’”
Mor Thala was overjoyed to hear that her boy was doing so well, but she felt nevertheless that the dreadful thing which haunted him was not to be so easily overcome.
Joel did not go over to the mainland again until September. He was away for several days, and when he returned, he brought Sven with him, and the news that the place was finished. The schoolhouse was built, and the inspection had taken place; the inspector could hardly find words to say how pleased he was with the result.
Mor Thala agreed that so far all was well. And, looking at her son, she felt that he looked like one released, from prison; she understood that he felt he had regained some little of the honour and respect he had lost.
And she was loth to spoil his pleasure, but as soon as she was alone with Joel, she asked if there really had been no one in all Applum who had made Sven feel he was not good enough for the work.
“There’s none can say what folk think in their own minds,” said Joel; “but I’ll just tell you what the schoolmaster himself said to me yesterday, when I spoke to him after the opening.
“‘There’s no trusting to folk’s gratitude,’ he said, ‘but if I was one of those whose children are to get their schooling in this new place, I’d show no unkindness to the man that built it. When you look at the hall there, the way he’s chosen the best colours, and the neat and sound benches he’s put up, the fine glass in the windows, well, it’s a wonder how he could do it. And then all the fixtures in the slöid room, and the kitchen, and heating pipes, and gymnasium fittings and all—it’s plain ’twas a lover of children that settled it all. There’s many might well wish to be children again just to go to school in the place Sven Elversson’s built.’”
Mor Thala could not but be pleased at this, and was glad now to feel that all her anxiety had been unfounded.