The crew greeted me when I joined them. Rather than jolly they were shy as people are round here when they greet strangers.
You’ll all know jana the team leader said. And if someone doesn’t and can’t put two and two together she is bror’s sister.
He looked at me kindly. I was taken aback. Should have said something but only nodded.
Besides jana happens to have the best dog he went on.
The owner of the elkhounds frowned.
Then we were handed our hunting passes and an orange reflex cap each. Just in case he showed me our area on the map. He had no need to. I knew every pile of twigs in the smalångerforest.
I buttoned the gps tracker on the dog’s collar and let him go. First he pissed and shat. Then he shot away through the contorta pine shrubs. I waited for a while. Checked the map in the tracker and saw that he ran around here and there without getting a proper trail. No indication of barking.
After driving for a couple of kilometres along a forest cartrack I stopped. I loaded cartridges into the magazine put the safety on hung the rifle on my back and set out walking in the general direction of where the dog was.
By then the sun had almost risen fully. The forest smelled pleasantly of the moss and plants that had not been killed by the frost. The contorta pines thinned out into an area that had been logged selectively and replanted in orderly rows on dry ground.
Now and then the tracker crackled. Brisk voices checking things out.
I followed the dog. It was about a kilometre or so in front of me. A couple of hours passed. The head of the hunt wondered where I was. Near the burn I said and trudged on. Tried to remember where the crossing was. The burn ran shallow where I was but the water was freezing. At worst I’d have to wade.
I sat down in a clearing and drank some coffee from my thermos. A squirrel shot up a tree.
Then the map alerted me to the dog. It stood and barked.
I pushed the thermos into the rucksack heaved the gun onto my back and moved quickly across a smaller old clearing. Here the burn had narrowed to a creek. A few stepping stones helped me to jump across it.
The elk was still on the move. Now and then I listened out and checked the gps location. The dog was barking steadily. My pulse was speeding up. It was so long ago and yet so recent. I knew what I had to do.
The dog still barked. The elk didn’t move either. The barking paralysed it. Lukas smelled blood. I smelled prey. The wind was in the west. I must circle to get into position.
A few hundred metres from the elk I stopped pulled the gun strap over my head and held the weapon with both hands. Tiptoed through the forest. The slightest sound would alert the elk. It would run. I walked when the dog barked. When he didn’t I kept still.
Finally I caught sight of them between the trees.
The elk scraped the ground with its hoof. Waved its head from side to side.
Lukas’s teeth glowed white below his stretched gum.
I crept forward slowly. Metre by metre. Tried to take aim but the big animal was still too far away. As likely as not a yearold bull calf.
I moved into a gap between the trees. Rested the gun on a branch.
The elk’s nostrils quivered. Its watchful eyes were opened wide.
I released the safety catch. Pushed the ear protectors into place. Lowered the sight to aim at a point below the chest. Then the animal moved a little. Enough for me to see the swayback curve of its spine. This was a cow. And behind her sheltered a young calf on spindly legs.
Underneath my jacket the sweat was pouring off me. I stood on a branch on purpose and the crack made the animals turn abruptly and run.
The dog ran after them but they would tire him out.
I pressed the button on the side of the tracker and let everyone know what had happened.
Which way are they running the boss asked. Directly westwards I said. Then I dialled in positions until I had found a map showing the shortest distance to the forest cartrack.
The dog would take its time to get back.
I walked quickly through young woodland until I got out on the track. A shot echoed in the forest. And another.
Suddenly the tracker was crackling with voices.
Cow and a calf someone said. Plenty meat lots from these two.
Later we all gathered in the cabin for soup with dumplings.
Seems you shoot cows with calves now I said. Not even father would kill a cow with a calf.
Everyone was as keen to find out what had happened. Göranbäckström was made to tell the story over and over again. In detail. I kept watch in a hide he said. Had just poured myself some coffee. Might have had time for a pinch of fresh snuff too but then I heard on the gps that our jana had mucked up her chance. Sensed that they’d come my way so I got up and stood there ready to shoot. When they came along I had the gun resting on a strong branch. So I shot them. Bang. Bang. The cow ran for a bit before she went down. The calf died on the spot.
There was much rejoicing that night in the smalånger hunt crew. A successful first day. About fourhundred kilos of flesh in all.
I didn’t miss my chance I said. I decided not to shoot. In my book you don’t shoot cows with calves.
No worries the hunt boss said. You’ve been away for a long while. We get how you think but these days the forest is teeming with elk. Shooting bulls might well be the better option but.
He looked at the proud hunter. Then at me.
So I think jana you’d better admit you couldn’t hack it when the opportunity came your way.
Nothing has changed I thought as I listened to the noises made by slurping mouths. The same uneventful stories. The eternal retelling that’s used as an effective barricade to prevent having to speak together in any other way. I wondered how many of them had slept with maria. Possibly all.
Did any of you know our maria I asked. The slurping ceased abruptly. They glanced at each other. Embarrassed.
You mean mariabrännström do you göranbäckström asked.
Yes. She was our halfsister. But maybe that’s news to you.
Now I had come up with something they didn’t know. Everyone shook his head a little.
I don’t believe you göranbäckström said. She would’ve said.
Would it be that our erik was her father too gunnargran asked.
Yes I said. Seemingly he was.
I went to the loo. Eight men had been sitting in turn on the white plastic rim before me. I glanced down the hole first.
After the evening meal we went to the site of the kill. We had to deal with the carcasses. Göranbäckström used his fourwheel drive to get the elk cart in the right place. The rest of us drove our cars as far as we could into the wood. The elks had fallen barely a kilometre from the cartrack.
Gunnargran and I happened to stop a little away from the rest.
My hips packed up he said. I’m waiting for an operation. But it’s good to see you again jana. Then he asked if I was staying or just back in the village to say hello.
Drop in and see nora one day. She’s been missing you. By the way I don’t shoot a cow with calf either. Maybe I don’t go on about it like you do.
Noragran or nicenora as she was known was gunnargran’s wife. Their son roger and I had been in the same class at school. We often went to his house after school. Nicenora was a housewife. She liked hugging people. Every day when the school taxi stopped at their yard and we jumped out she was there on the veranda to welcome us. Roger would slide out of her arms but I stayed for as long as I could. Nicenora always wore a flowery housecoat. She smelled of dovesoap and home baking.
Coffeeandcake was waiting for us. Nora wanted to hear about our schoolday. If it had been an easy day perhaps with funny things to tell her about she laughed with us. If something had troubled us her face grew worried. When really bad things happened to people we told her nothing at all.
I’ll think about what to do I said. If I’m staying or not. Bror had better come home first. He’s being t
reated in this rehab place in pite I told him. Gunnargran only nodded. Nothing escaped the watchful village. Everyone knew everything. That explanations were mostly unnecessary was both alarming and reassuring.
That’s good he said. Good that you mind your brother. He has had a lot on his plate.
Gunnargran was the oldest in this crew. Like all the rest of them he had known father.
And so had you. I know that well enough. He was a hard man our erik.
We had all gathered around the elk cow by then. Andersström handed me a pair of thin plastic gloves. Here you are he said. You do the field dressing.
It felt as if I were being tested. I knew what to do and had done it many times but that was long ago by now. Worse the elk had been shot near the belly. One mistake with the knife and the stomach contents would drain into the chest cavity and ruin the meat. I glanced at gunnargran. He nodded encouragingly at me.
A couple of lads I didn’t know turned the elk on its back. With the animal’s front legs spread I began by cutting the hide on its throat so I could get in and begin to separate the airway from the oesophagus. I was rooting around with my whole arm deep inside the chest. The blood was like thick grease and in the end I had to use both hands to separate the tissue that held the long tube in place. I tied it off with a piece of string.
The last mosquitoes in the forest were feasting on the back of my neck. The dogs milled around impatiently waiting for their share.
I placed the next cut along the belly and past the udder then flayed the hide back a few centimetres on each side to reach the outer abdominal membrane. Once I had messed this stage up. Sliced through the membrane and penetrated the gut. Evilsmelling stomach contents welled out. Breathing in the stench was bad enough but it also tainted the flesh.
Father was insanely angry. Foulmeat couldn’t be eaten. It was one error I’d never repeat.
Cutting with the knife edge pointing up I opened the belly at the same time as I pushed down on the rumen and the rest of the gutbag with my other hand.
The lads let go of the legs and let the animal down on its side. I began by pulling the gut out from the rear end. Separated the thin tissue layer round the spleen and worked my way to the point where the oesophagus passes through a hole in the diaphragm. Freed it enough to haul it out. To expose the four stomachs underneath the membrane coverings I worked with my arms deep inside the elk’s warm body.
Now only the liver remained. I tried to tug it away from its moorings but they were too tough.
Use the knife gunnargran advised. It’s only in calves it’s quite loose.
Finally I cut the anal end of the gut.
Well you took your time göranbäckström said and sniggered. The calf had already been loaded onto the cart. We hauled the mother up to lie with her wee one. I still felt they were wrong. Who would give birth to new calves if they kept shooting the cows.
The forest is full of elk göranbäckström insisted.
The world is full of men too I thought. Maybe shooting some of them would be an idea.
The crew was planning to overnight in the cabin. Have a sauna and drink beer.
There’s a bunk for you if you’d like andersström said. The others nodded.
Of course you should stay they said. You might spot a bull tomorrow and risk shooting it.
I wanted to go home and mull over the day in peace but realised I had better be in the forest. I was a new member of the hunting crew and ought to get to know them better. If only to make them stop thinking up new challenges for me.
When all was done the elks flayed and hung from the chain hoists it was late almost nighttime. The fire heating the sauna was stacked high with burning wood. Elk tongue was simmering in salty water flavoured with bay leaves.
We sat on wooden seats around a camp fire grilling marrowbones while we waited for the sauna to get hot enough. Endtoend storytelling around the circle. Mostly old hunting anecdotes that would be retold for ever. The young were the most intent listeners. As yet they lacked the experiences that would eventually turn into new hunters’ tales.
What about you then jana said göranbäckström who wouldn’t leave well alone. It must have been a long time since you went out with the hunt. A bit rusty handling a gun aren’t you.
I had no trouble seeing what he was after. It disturbed the group if someone disputed what was fair prey. Created a bad atmosphere.
You do what you do I said. I respect that. You make your own decisions but as for me I won’t shoot a cow with calf. Or for that matter a cow without calf. Because it’s stupid I felt like adding but kept my mouth shut. Göranbäckström was out looking for things to annoy him.
Here he said holding out a bottle of beer. You did the field dressing well anyway. He raised the bottle in a toast. Looked at me for a little too long.
We piled into the sauna. Göranbäckström had no inhibitions about stripping and climbed starkers up to the top bench. The others used towels as loincloths. I wrapped the towel round my whole body but felt as out of place as if I had been wearing a burka. The heat was intense even though I sat on the lowermost bench. Much groaning from higher up. But they still scooped on more water.
There was no shower so those who wanted a wash had to do it with the water in the buckets inside the sauna. I pondered what to do next. Sweat was pouring down my body. Elk blood still stuck to my arms even though I had tried to clean it off with coldwater as soon as we got back from the forest. The beer had made the men braver. One by one the dropped their towels and washed themselves without taking any notice of me. In the end I followed their example. Got rid of the towel and scrubbed the blood off my arms until the skin burned. After all I didn’t have that much to show.
Then we ate and played cards.
The night grew late. Gradually the long day in the forest began to weigh on the drinkers and they climbed into their bunks one after the other.
I went along to the kennel. Chatted to lukas for a while. He was tired too. Just licked my hand and curled up like a pretzel on the ground.
When I came back into the cabin everyone except göranbäckström had gone to bed. He was carving slices off the boiled tongue and washing them down with brandy and water. He was the archetypal man from the village I thought. Robust and tough. Took beatings and alcohol as they came but hit the roof when faced with the will of a woman.
Let’s play twohanded whist he said and dealt the cards.
I had cards good enough to pass but went for game. Figured winning might be the wrong policy.
So in the end he sat there with eight tricks against my six and grinned like a truly rotten sport.
A cardplayer you’re not janakippo. Unlike maria now she was something else. Give her a deck and she could beat the shit out of any of us.
Is that right I said. I didn’t know that. But I never had time to get to know her at all.
That’s a shame he said and looked sad. She was a special person.
In what way I wondered.
She was different from most women. One could talk with her. She knew a lot. She was like a queen he said. Like a queen.
I held back for a moment. He was drunk and getting emotional but in the end I couldn’t resist asking. What do you think happened I wondered.
He got up and put a couple of logs into the stove even though it was hot already. Wandered off into the kitchen and fussed with something there.
When he returned and sat down opposite me again he was serious and spoke in a subdued tone.
I don’t know he said. She dumped me long ago. Enjoyed herself with a couple of other men. I was longing to get her back. Grieved in secret since I’m married after all but if you ask me and I have to answer I believe that john was mixed up in what happened. If you know who I mean.
Yes I said I’ve met him. But at the time they must have been divorced for a long time. Why should he mind after all those years.
John turned into a madman when she told him she wanted a divorce. He broke every stick of fur
niture in the house. Carried all they owned out into the yard to burn. Maria took petra and fled. Someone phoned the police. When the coppers turned up he jumped into his car and drove like a maniac towards the efour. But he crashed into the milklorry on the way.
Are you really sure he collided with the milklorry I said.
Of course I’m sure he said sounding a little irritable. He was in hospital for several months. That’s why he looks like that.
We turned the lights off and went to bed. Because I was the lowest ranking crew member I got the upper bunk. Up there under the ceiling the air trembled with heat.
Göranbäckström was in the bunk below. He was twisting and turning.
Are you awake I whispered. He hummed in response.
Maria’s parents. Who lived in the house by the sawmill. Do you know what happened to them.
What I do know is that they moved out a couple of years later. Went away with their tail between their legs and without paying the rent.
So they didn’t die then.
Not that I know of he said and yawned. Let’s go to sleep now.
Good night he said then and held his hand up towards me. I took his hand and squeezed it in return.
It great that you’ve joined the hunt he said. Even though you don’t shoot cows.
THIRTYFIVE
The crew was going to spend the rest of the week hunting. I had no spare holidays to use up and märitljungqvist refused me extra time off. Lukas would stay with the crew and walk with göranbäckström. I went home for a quick change of clothes. I had to get the boiler going too. It was just before six o’clock. The weather had grown colder and the large house cooled down quickly.
Ever since bror fell ill I hadn’t given much thought to practicalities like logging. Now it struck me that it would be impossible to live in the house without wood to burn during the winter. Split lengths were stacked in the yard. Not logged and possibly too sodden to be burned at once.
A painting wrapped in brown paper secured with sisal string was waiting on the veranda.
It was bigger than the first one. The tapeworm sunk its teeth into my gut so deep I dropped my hunting gear on the floor and ran to the loo.
My Brother Page 15