The Book and the Brush 
Once upon a time, a long time ago, when hideous monsters roamed the land and the world seemed very small, there lived two young men who were the closest of friends. They were so close, in fact, that they even lived together, in a small rented room right under the eaves of a charming old house in the charming old town of Mora.
Sadly, the room itself could not be described as charming, only as dingy, dank and drafty, but it was the best they could afford, as neither of them was any good with money. One had grown up, first, with so much money that he never needed to think about it, and then, with so little money that there was nothing to think about: thus, he had never learned the basics of home economics. The other one, meanwhile, had grown up in more of a barter economy, and found the whole concept of money weird.
Our story begins on a particularly chilly evening right at the beginning of winter. On that evening, the first of our protagonists, the once-rich one (let’s call him Emil, as that was his name) came back to the awful room first, and immediately went to kneel before the crumbling fireplace, attempting to coax a fire out of a dwindling store of firewood. He succeeded admirably: by the time our second protagonist (whose name was Lalli) returned home, the room looked almost cosy, bathed as it was in a warm glow that hid the many imperfections of the battered furniture. The growing warmth had even allowed Emil to remove his coat and, more importantly, his hat, revealing his flowing, golden hair, which shone beautifully in the firelight.
Lalli, however, could not see any of this splendour, as his view was blocked by a giant armful of spruce branches. At least, not until he had dumped them all on the floor.
“Hmpf,” he said then, shaking out his arms.
Emil stared at the greenery as the scent of fresh sap filled the room, overcoming the smell of old mold. “You brought... Yuletide decorations?” he asked with a surprised smile.
“Decorations?” Lalli frowned. “No, they are normal branches from the forest. I want to hang them under the gaps in the ceiling, to block the wind.”
“Oh! Great idea.”
And so, the two of them spent the evening insulating their room, while Emil, whose mind had fully latched onto the subject of Yule, chattered about the fancy decorations he’d hung up as a rich kid, the festive food he had eaten, and, finally, the piles and piles of presents he had received.
“The year I was eleven, opening all those boxes took me so long that I tired myself out completely, and didn’t even notice that my father never made it home,” he said as he handed the last branch up to Lalli, who was standing on their only chair. “But I imagine that it was quite different for you. Did you get many presents, growing up?”
“In Keuruu, I always got two presents.” Lalli attached the branch, weaving it in among the others. “Two socks. Onni made them. One year he counted wrong, so I got three.”
“That must have been… a nice surprise?”
“No, Onni is bad at knitting.”
With that, Lalli jumped off the chair, and the two of them looked up, admiring their work.
“I love it!” said Emil. “It’s like we live in an enchanted forest.”
“Mmm-hm,” said Lalli. “We did a good job.”
“Yes, we make a great team, don’t we?”
They went to bed soon after.
***
The following day was the day of Yule Eve. Emil and Lalli had not made any shared plans, as it was not the first such holiday they had experienced together, and they had fallen into the habit of ignoring it. Mostly because they had always had other things on their minds, such as the danger of imminent death. But, actually, this was the first time they were going to experience it together while not in mortal peril, which did make it a little special, didn’t it? They should probably have thought of that.
Anyway, Emil, at least, did make a Yule Eve plan of sorts: he wanted to visit his relatives. Lalli, who really didn’t want to visit Emil’s relatives, decided to stay in their room instead, napping and trying to solve an old, cubical puzzle Emil had found on one of their death-evading adventures. He’d been working on this puzzle for a couple of years, and finally felt like he was just a step or two away from a solution.
Even though the two of them were apart, their thoughts ended up running in similar directions.
“I really have to get Lalli a nice Yuletide present,” thought Emil. “He deserves so much better than odd socks! But what should I get? He doesn’t really like things, except for cake. Do cakes make good presents? He gets them for himself anyway, whenever we have extra money. Argh. I am so bad at this. But, still, a cake is better than socks, surely?”
“I should get Emil a Yuletide present,” thought Lalli. “Based on his stories, presents seem to mean a lot to him. And I know just what to get him: cake. It’s the best present there is, and it even comes in a box, so he’ll be able to open it, just as he likes, as many times as he likes.”
In this way, the two friends both decided to visit the same bakery: a rather obscure place, tucked between a wig shop whose creepy owner kept offering to buy Emil’s splendid hair, and an antique store that almost certainly dealt in stolen goods. In spite of the unsavoury surroundings, it was Lalli’s hands-down favourite, as its products had the best sugar-to-price ratio in Mora.
(At this point, it might be worth explaining that Lalli had grown up without easy access to refined sugar, and had been compensating for this fact ever since.)
***
Emil headed towards the bakery first, thinking to beat the Yuletide rush. He gave the wigmaker a wide berth, for obvious reasons, and paused instead by the antique store’s window, to look at the prices of their books. He often did this, out of professional interest, as he had once worked in antique book procurement.
Anyway, that is where he saw it, lying between a collection of Swedish drinking songs and a mushroom-picking guide: a thin book with a strangely familiar, though faded, cube on the cover. Pressing closer in his excitement, he read the title.
The Complete Guide to Solving Rubik’s CubeThere was no doubt about it: the title was referring to the one thing Lalli seemed to like even more than cake, his cube puzzle. It was a sign! The perfect gift! Emil was fated to buy it!
But then, he saw the price...
***
Lalli, unaware of the concept of a Yuletide rush, reached the bakery only in the early afternoon. Once there, he lingered at the window, trying to see what was available and to decide on his purchase ahead of time. He wanted to plan out exactly what to say to the shopkeeper, as he found improvised conversation with strangers deeply unpleasant.
He was peering doubtfully at the last two remaining cakes, both of which looked rather unimpressive--lumpy and undecorated--when the little bell above the bakery door rang, and a man strode out.
“Happy Yule, young friend!” the man said, smiling the broad smile of someone who’d been sampling glögg all day. “Isn’t it a fine day? Tell me, do you--”
What he was going to ask, we will never know, as Lalli cringed, backed away, and ducked into the first door he encountered: that of the antique store. Another bell rang as he stepped into the store’s gloomy interior. The prim woman behind the counter glared at him, possibly noting his rather threadbare clothing, but that was obviously far preferable to surprise conversation. Nevertheless, Lalli quickly ducked out of her immediate field of view, behind some shelves.
And that is when he saw it: a glittering hairbrush that immediately made him think of Emil’s gleaming hair, and of Emil’s fondness for shiny, expensive-looking objects. It looked just like the sort of thing Emil might have owned as a child, an impression reinforced by the initials on the handle: E and V, intertwined together in a flowing script.
At that moment, Lalli realized that he had been about to make a serious error. Cake was what HE liked, not Emil, so it was not the perfect gift, after all. (This was a fine distinction he had learned about only recently, and making use of it made him feel very socially competent.) This hairbrush would be much better!
Taking a deep breath, Lalli prepared himself to speak to the prim woman.
***
In the end, Lalli got home first. Just as Emil had done on the previous evening, he immediately lit a fire, but his fires were somehow never as good as Emil’s, so the room remained chilly as he made a couple of preparations and sat down on the bed to wait for his friend.
He passed the time by planning out a wood-carving project he was hoping to start soon, but, in any case, he did not have to wait long before he heard some familiar footsteps clomping their way up the creaky stairs. He sat up a bit straighter as Emil entered the room.
“Happy Yule, Lalli!” said Emil with a smile.
“Yes.” Lalli watched Emil remove his outer gloves. “I mean… Happy Yule to you too?”
“You know, I was just thinking,” said Emil, sitting down on the chair, “that we really should have planned to do something together this evening. Since it’s our first Yule Eve together when nothing is actively trying to kill us.”
“Mmm. What kind of something?”
“A meal, maybe?”
“We eat together all the time.”
“True, but maybe we could have made it a bit… special. To build suspense before opening the presents… well, the present. Because that’s the thing! I got you a present!”
“I knew it.” Lalli smiled, a little smugly. “Is it a cake?”
“It’s much better than a cake! Wait a moment…” Emil unbuttoned his coat, and pulled out a flat package decorated with a ribbon, leading Lalli to decide that it was just as well that the present was not a cake, as squashed-flat cakes just did not taste the same. But then, what could it be? He reached for the package, and untied the ribbon, setting it carefully aside. It looked quite well-made: maybe they could use it to replace that broken curtain cord.
When unwrapped, the package revealed a book. Somewhat confused by this, he opened it at random--and gasped.
There was no mistaking it: the diagrams inside rose up before his eyes, superimposing themselves on an image of his puzzle-cube. He flipped through the pages: yes, he knew that move… and that one… but here, that one looked new…
Quite a bit of time passed before he looked up again, to find that Emil, now coatless (but, oddly, not hatless) was grinning happily.
“You like it, then?” Emil asked.
Lalli nodded. “You are right. This is much better than a cake that you eat and forget.”
“That makes me so happy!” said Emil, unnecessarily.
“I think,” Lalli continued, “that this must be the book the woman talked about.”
“The woman? What woman?”
“The woman in the weird store next to the cake shop. She said she had a book about the cube, and that this was why she was glad to buy it.”
“What? Buy it? Are you saying that… you sold your cube?”
“No. I swapped it.” Lalli’s expression grew even smugger than before. He reached over to the crate that served as a bedside table, picked up the box standing on it, and thrust it in Emil’s direction. “Here. Your present.”
“You got me a present, too?” Emil stared at Lalli in awe.
“Of course I did. I have observed that you like Yule presents. Come on! Open it.”
Emil accepted the box, and tore his eyes away from Lalli’s face to finally inspect it. “My present is... the tea tin?”
“No, stupid. Your present is inside.”
“So, then… where’s the tea?”
“On the plate.” Lalli waved towards the tiny kitchenette counter, now fully occupied by a cracked plate holding a pile of loose tea.
“But… we need that plate…” The room, clearly intended for one renter, had come with just a single plate. But that was not relevant at that moment, as Emil soon realized under Lalli’s increasingly impatient glare. “Okay, never mind, let’s take a look at this present. I am sure I will love it!”
He meant this when he said it--he knew he would cherish any gift, no matter how odd--but still, he was shocked by just how true it turned out to be. Setting the tea tin on his knees, he lifted out the brush with both hands, turning it this way and that. “It’s very beautiful. And it feels exactly how a brush should feel, somehow.”
“Look, it has your initials.”
“So it does. Just like the one I had as a child!” A suspicion formed in the back of his mind. If Lalli had obtained this at the dodgy antique shop, then maybe-- But, oh, the way he had obtained it, swapping it for his most treasured possession... and it's not like Emil could even make proper use of it, not now!
Lalli leaned forward, peering at Emil's face, which was unable to decide on an expression. “Don’t you like it?” he asked. “You look weird. Is it broken?"
“No, it is perfect. And I am very happy to receive such a great gift from you. But I am unhappy that you gave up your cube to get it! Now you can't solve it, even with the book."
"I know how to solve it, which is very good. So your gift was great, too.” Lall nodded to himself, then narrowed his eyes. “But how do you know the brush is perfect? You haven't used it."
"That's the other thing." Emil sighed very, very deeply--so deeply that the spruce branches above his head stirred a little, as if in a breeze--then reached up and pulled off his hat.
Lalli's eyes went from narrowed to very, very wide open. "Emil,” he whispered. "Your hair."
The cause of Lalli's shocked reaction is no doubt already clear to my intelligent readers: Emil's glorious locks were gone, as his hair had been clipped short. It still looked vaguely golden, like a wheat field after harvest, but it no longer brightened up the room.
Emil ran a hand over his head and winced before saying, "I sold it to the wigmaker. I suppose it looks terrible?"
"I don't know." Lalli tilted his head. "I can’t tell what looks terrible. To me, it just looks weird. And it will grow back, anyway."
"In two years!" Emil, who had not found this reply particularly reassuring, started blinking a lot, in a futile effort to hide the fact that he was on the verge of tears. But then, he had an idea, one that did make him feel better. "Since I won't be able to use the brush for a while, maybe we could return it and get your cube back?"
"We don't need to. I plan to make a new cube, out of wood." That was, in fact, the wood-carving project Lalli had started planning. He felt quite excited about it: he thought he could give the different colours different, interesting textures. "We can return the book, though, now that I have read it. Too bad we can't get your hair back."
Actually, they could have, at least in wig form. In fact, Emil considered trying to do so, just for a brief moment, before deciding that it would be creepy.
"Let's return both gifts tomorrow, then," he said. "And get, I don't know, some cake? For both of us?"
Lalli found this suggestion both logical and fair.
***
The depressed-looking man standing behind the counter of the antique shop perked up when he saw Emil. "You're the one who bought the Rubik's cube book! Emil, right?"
"Yes," said Emil. "I'm Emil, and this is Lalli. We wanted to--"
"Look here, Emil." The man leaned forward, over the counter, and smiled very, very widely. "You wouldn't consider returning that book, by any chance? I'd give you a full refund. Thing is, it should not have even been for sale. My aunt wanted to, er, keep it for herself. For sentimental reasons; you know these sweet old ladies. And now that I've sold it, she's a little bit upset with me, the poor old dear."
"For sentimental reasons?" As Emil recalled Lalli's story of how he had obtained the brush, things clicked into place. "So, not for business reasons, at all?"
"What do you mean?"
"I happen to know that your aunt recently bought one of the objects that the book refers to. They would be worth far more as a set, wouldn't they?"
“How could you possibly know that?” The man's forced smile had disappeared. "But never mind. I expect you’ll be wanting a bigger refund, then. What would you say to... double price?"
"Quadruple?" asked Emil, because why not?
The man thought for a bit, tapping his fingers against the counter. "You drive a hard bargain," he said at last. Then, he opened his cash register.
In the excitement of their unexpected windfall, Emil and Lalli forgot all about the brush until they were standing outside the bakery, money in hand.
“Keep it,” said Lalli. “I want you to have it. And we have lots of money now, enough to get a very large cake.”
“Actually… I was thinking that it might be better to save this money.”
“Why?”
“So we can afford the security deposit on a less terrible room.”
Once he had fully absorbed this novel idea, Lalli stared at his friend with admiration. “Yes, that is much better,” he said. “You are very good with money.”
***
They were able to move into a far more charming room in the spring.
By the time of their move, Emil's hair had grown out a bit, so that he felt comfortable going around without a hat. No, not just comfortable--confident. Now that his hair was long enough to be brushed, he thought it looked rather classy. He greatly enjoyed styling it with his childhood hairbrush--or, at the very least, with its identical twin.
Lalli, meanwhile, had completed his hand-carved cube, and it had turned out very nicely. Watching him play with it gave Emil another clever money-related idea, which drove him to return to the antique store, seek out the resident aunt, and make her a business proposition. The modernized cubes proved very popular, as did the freshly printed books of instructions--and not just in Mora, but even in Denmark and Iceland. And thus, the following Yule, the two friends could easily afford several Yule gifts each.
Of course, none of them were as perfect as those first two gifts: the book, and the brush.
Author’s Note: This story is, of course, based on a Christmastime classic, The Gift of the Magi by O. Henry. It seemed like such a good fit for a story about Emil and Lalli, given the emphasis on both hair and miscommunication, that I was surprised that it had not been done before. (Or has it? I would love to read any other version.)
