Year 110, Summer
Lalli,
Well, I can say definitively that the second time around is decidedly easier, at least so far. With Aku, all of his problems and odd exploits (we’re still not sure how he escaped the Radiator Incident unscathed) came as a surprise, but after dealing with unexpected happenings for three years now, we’re a bit better at it. Of course, the idiot teens are still idiots, so we must still be ready for a panicked call for help at most any time that we’re away.
I am getting soft in my old age (ha, ha, ha): we have named the new arrival Stig Esko Reynir; and yes, his hair is both thick and red already. We suspect a recessive gene set has surfaced, as Marta has produced a pre-Rash photo of the Esko we named him after, one of her kin who resembles our little one quite startlingly. Also, Ulf Västerström had red hair before it went white, so there’s that. My more asinine and crude work associates have ribbed me about paternity tests until I offered to collect some blood samples from them, but without the benefit of a needle. That “joke” has ceased making the rounds.
Aku looks at Esko rather suspiciously sometimes, as though he can’t quite figure out where this ruddy, noisy little interloper came from or why his perfect kingdom has been thrown into such disorder.. Eventually, though, I’m sure they’ll become partners in crime, and I dread that day.
Tell Onni I have taken his warnings under advisement, though, frankly, Marta is dubious. I reminded her that Onni had the raising of you and Tuuri for rather more than half your lives, so his experience must be worth something.
Tell Tuuri I know of a publisher here who might be interested in publishing her stories, if she is.
Tell yourself (ha ha ha) to keep writing, and to keep safe. Tuuri mentioned your recent exploit in her last letter, and while you’ll probably say that it had to be done, you should still be more careful while doing it. I’ve seen you do it, so I know you can.
Your Cleanser friend,
Emil Västerström
*
Year 113, Summer
Lalli,
With all the other signs of summer in Mora came the latest, and largest yet, addition to our family: Ulf Eino Mikkel, the last demanded by his size: 10 pounds, 11 ounces!
Little Mikkel is fine, but Marta frightened me badly. This was far and away her most difficult pregnancy, and she hasn’t nearly recovered so well as even after Aku’s birth. I think the doctors have warned her that Little Mikkel should be the last, and I intend to take certain steps to ensure that.
Aku and Esko have been in great anticipation over Little Mikkel’s arrival, much to our concern. Those two get in enough trouble already, and not nearly all at Aku’s prompting. I swear, they will turn my hair white if they get Little Mikkel into their troublesome mode.
Stay safe on your moonlit treks, my friend, and write again soon.
Your Cleanser friend,
Emil Västerström
*
Year 117, Spring
Lalli,
Spring has returned to Sollerön with beauty and new life, as it always does. I cannot quite comprehend how it can be that Marta is no longer here to share it with me. A thousand times a day, it seems, I’ll turn to share something with her, but she has gone.
The ceremony was moving, with many friends of Marta’s remembering her past kindnesses. I was supposed to speak, but I couldn’t, not even one word past, “Thank you all”. I make speeches for a living. I once gave five separate speeches in twelve hours, and I couldn’t say a word at my own wife’s funceremony.
I worry most about our boys. They are so young to be motherless (though I know such a loss is never easy). She so wanted a girl, but she was wonderful with the boys, and it’s hard to watch them trying to pretend everything’s all right--for my sake, if you can believe it. It’s comical, touching and heartbreaking all at once.
Your letters and Tuuri’s have been of much comfort; I do not know what I would do without your wise but spare words, and Tuuri’s tales are as big a hit with the boys as they were with the Cleansers.
Your Cleanser friend,
Emil Västerström
*
Year 118, Spring
Lalli,
By the time you get this, I will have reached the Kristinehamn front and rejoined my unit, though rather more highly placed than I’m quite comfortable with. Things are so bad--they’re already calling this “the Year of the Trolls”--that I’ve been put in charge of that part of the fight!
I’m scared, Lalli.
This is not fear of death, but of getting people killed in my stead. I’ve been behind a desk, a podium or a camera for the last twelve years, and now I’m in command of an entire sector?
Whatever my doubts, I am still a Cleanser, though. I must obey those in authority over me to the best of my ability, and pray that that best will be good enough.
You have been a great friend to me through all these years, Lalli. Just in case, I wanted you to know that.
Your Cleanser friend,
Emil Västerström
