The Lily Pond (22 page)

Stephie slowly unfolds the note under her desk. It’s the German test, but not mimeographed in purple ink. It’s typewritten, with scrawled notes here and there!

Stephie has a flash of the afternoon in the staff room—the day before the math test, when Alice was rummaging through Hedvig Björk’s desk.

The paper is burning in her hand. She folds it up very small again, wanting to throw it away without Miss Krantz’s noticing. Instead, she lets her hand glide slowly along her own leg, dropping it on the floor under her seat. Then she waits until Miss Krantz is busy noting down someone’s name in the toilet register. She kicks the note as hard as she can with the tip of her shoe. It ends up in the aisle, diagonally in front of her.

She has lost time and has to concentrate now. She writes, erases, rewrites.

“What might this be?”

Miss Krantz’s voice pierces the silence in the auditorium. Everyone jolts upright. She’s standing in the aisle near Stephie’s seat, a folded piece of paper in her hand. You could hear a pin drop as Miss Krantz unfolds it.

“This is terrible,” says Miss Krantz. “Someone stole a
copy of the test paper. Someone in this room has been cheating.”

Stephie holds her breath. She wonders whether anyone but her saw Alice drop the note. Well, she certainly isn’t going to say anything. Cheating is wrong, but informing on someone is even worse.

“Well,” Miss Krantz asks, “whose note is this? Or rather, who took the test from my desk?”

No answer.

“All right, then,” Miss Krantz goes on. “Everyone put down your pencils and clasp your hands on the writing surface. No one will write another word until I get an answer. The faster I do, the more time you’ll have to work on your tests. If there is no answer, you will all turn in your test papers exactly as they are at this moment, and be graded accordingly. Understood?”

Just then the unthinkable occurs. Alice raises her hand.

“Yes, Alice?”

“The note belongs to Stephanie, Miss Krantz,” Alice says, loud and clear. “I saw her drop it. I was on my way back from the bathroom.”

“Stephanie, is that true?” Miss Krantz says, looking right at her.

Stephie has no voice. All she can do is shake her head in silence.

“Answer me!” Miss Krantz orders her. “Is it true?”

“No,” Stephie whispers.

“Well, whose is it, then?”

“I don’t know.” Her head is spinning.

“Stephanie, you might as well admit it,” says Miss Krantz. “Or do you want to ruin the grades of all the other girls, as well?”

“No.”

“All right, then, admit it.”

Stephie doesn’t answer. She cannot admit to something she didn’t do. At the same time, she cannot get herself to tell the truth, even though Alice tried to save her own skin by blaming her. She is silent.

“Stephanie, please gather up your things and go out into the hall. I will join you as soon as I can get someone to step in for me. The others may continue to work.”

Silently, Stephie collects her papers and walks to the door. May tries to catch her eye, but Stephie just stares stubbornly at the floor as she walks out.

like a nightmare, one of those dreams when you’re lost in a labyrinth and can’t find the way out. If she tells the truth now, Miss Krantz won’t believe her. And it would be her word against Alice’s. There’s no question about who Miss Krantz would choose to believe.

She feels as if she’s been anesthetized. She hears Miss Krantz talking to her, but only isolated words penetrate her consciousness.

“Extremely serious, cheating … suspension from school … lack of moral fortitude … your background …”

Why?
she keeps wondering.
Why did Alice say it was me? Was it because she thought I was going to tell on her? Or was something else driving her?

“You have a scholarship, don’t you?” Miss Krantz asks.

Something threatening in her tone pushes Stephie to make the extra effort to listen.

“Yes.”

“Well, then,” says Miss Krantz. “It won’t be up to me alone to decide on this matter. I will discuss it with your homeroom teacher at the next teachers’ meeting. Until then, you will go to classes as usual. You will, of course, fail today’s test. You may go now.”

When Miss Krantz dismisses Stephie, it is a quarter past ten. There is forty-five minutes of test time left. The girls will just be starting to make clean copies of their translations.

Without making a conscious decision, Stephie finds herself walking out of the schoolyard toward the lily pond. The gravel path leading to it is slushy and has been sanded, but alongside the path the snow gleams, clean and white.

The whole pond is frozen over. The ice is as dark and glossy as the surface of the water was last fall, but it is immobile. Hard, cold, and still. There is only one place where the water is visible, all the way over on the far side, where the red water lilies grew last summer. There must be an underwater current over there keeping the ice open.

Her bench is occupied by a young couple sitting there hugging and kissing. The girl is wearing a brown beret over her blond hair. The boy has no cap on and his back is to Stephie.

They kiss for a long time.

Stephie looks away, wishing they would leave. She pokes at the snow with the toe of her boot, waiting.

The next time she looks toward the bench, the two have stood up. They’re holding hands and walking in her direction.

Now she can see the young man’s face.

It’s Sven.

She shuts her eyes, as if to erase the image. But when she opens them again, it’s still there.

“Stephanie!”

She wants to turn and run, but her feet seem to be frozen to the ground. Eagerly, he pulls the girl in her direction. Now Stephie recognizes her, too. She works at the tavern.

“Hi, Stephanie,” says Sven. “Are you on a break?”

She nods. Inside, she is frozen as solid as the lily pond.

“This is Stephanie, the girl I’ve told you about,” Sven says to his companion.

“How do you do?” she says, extending a hand. “My name is Irja.”

Stephie’s paralysis is released. Her heart pounds and her head spins. Irja and Sven. She turns and runs.

“Stephanie,” she hears Sven shout. “Wait!”

She heads for school, though she has no intention of going in. What would she do there? They’re going to suspend her anyway and lower her conduct marks; she’ll lose her scholarship and not be able to continue her education.

None of it matters. The only thing that makes any difference is Irja and Sven.

“Stephanie!”

It’s not Sven’s voice. May comes running toward her.

“Stephanie! Where are you going?”

May grabs her by the sleeve of her coat and holds her still.

“Why didn’t you tell Miss Krantz it wasn’t you? I know that note wasn’t yours. I know you didn’t cheat.”

“Leave me alone!” Stephie screams. “Let me go and leave me alone!”

She pulls her sleeve away so fast and hard May loses her balance on the icy ground and falls.

Just as Stephie is about to abandon May in the snowdrift alongside the path, she has a realization.

“You knew,” she says, turning to May. “You saw them together.”

“Who? What are you talking about?” May fumbles her way to standing and adjusts her glasses.

“Sven and Irja,” says Stephie. “The girl from the tavern. You knew, didn’t you?”

May’s eyes look sad behind the fogged-up lenses of her glasses.

“Yes,” she says. “I saw them during Christmas vacation. I wanted to tell you, but I just couldn’t.”

“If you’d been a real friend,” says Stephie, “you would have.”

She wants to get away from May, away from Sven, away from school and from everyone. Suddenly she knows: she’ll go home to the island.

“No, you idiot!” May shouts after her. “The reason I couldn’t get myself to tell you is precisely because I am your friend.”

yaps eagerly from the other side of the front door when he hears Stephie’s key in the lock. Usually no one comes home at this time of day: the doctor is at his office, his wife is running errands or going to the hairdresser, and Stephie and Sven are normally at school. Elna may be at home if she isn’t out grocery shopping, in which case she uses the kitchen entrance.

“Hush, Putte,” Stephie whispers once she’s inside. She doesn’t want Elna to hear that she’s come in, and start wondering what may be wrong. She takes her shoes off and, still in her coat, tiptoes to her room, leading Putte by his collar. If she doesn’t take him with her, he’ll just stand outside the door whining, and Elna will turn up.

Putte wants to play, but Stephie doesn’t have time. She
has to pack and get out again before anyone notices she’s there. She knows there is a boat around one o’clock, and she has time to make it.

“Sit, Putte,” she says, and he sits obediently.

Stephie takes out her suitcase and starts packing. She tosses in all her belongings from the dresser and closet helter-skelter. She packs her framed photos from home among the clothing to keep them from breaking. She removes the sheets from the bed she made that morning, folds the quilt, and puts the bedspread back on.

When Stephie lifts her jewelry box out of the drawer, she remembers the amulet around her neck. Unlocking the chain, she lets the coin drop into her palm. She leaves it on top of the dresser, for whoever finds it. She doesn’t want anything to remember Sven by. Let him give it to Irja. It certainly hasn’t been a good-luck charm for Stephie, anyway.

No
, she thinks a moment later.
Nobody is going to get it
. She’ll take it with her and throw it into the sea from the deck of the boat. For now, it goes into her coat pocket.

When the bells ring noon from the church on the other side of the park, she’s ready. She closes the suitcase and clasps it shut. All that remains for her to do is to say goodbye to Putte.

She squats down next to him, stroking his shiny coat gently. Putte puts his muzzle in her lap and looks at her with those brown eyes of his.

“Goodbye, Putte,” she says softly. “I guess I’ll never see you again.”

Putte licks her hand. He seems to understand what she means.

“Take care of Sven,” she says, standing. “But don’t you be friends with that … Irja.”