Bing! Bing! Bing!
Downtown Copenhagen was even more bustling than usual today, last-minute shoppers rushing from store to store in more or less panicky efforts to find just the right gift before Christmas. Among them, Emil VÀsterström moved purposefully towards his goal.
His bandmates might have wondered at his going all the way to Copenhagen when Malmö offered so many shops of its own, but all those shops had failed him thus far. He was determined that he would succeed in the end, though, even if he had to go to London or Berlin!
The flophouse they were all rooming in had been almost empty when Emil found Lalli sneaking a listen on the big Victrola in the lobby.
âWhatâs that youâre listening to, Lalli?â The thin Finn was mostly blocking the phonographâs speaker with his head, as their landlord had threatened the band more than once about keeping the volume down when they were in.
Lalliâs eyes were glowing when he replied, simply, âBing.â
Ever since that moment, Emil had been working towards his goal: accumulate each and every one of Bing Crosbyâs singles from this year into an album for Lalli, and now, only one remained for him to acquire: âPennies from Heavenâ, the single most sought after Bing single of 1936.
Malmö had failed him, but Copenhagen held out more hope; a friend of a friend of a friend of Sigrunâs had yielded up the name of a small, obscure little record store where you could find just about anything--for the right price. Emil was determined to get that single, even if it cost his last öre.
The crowds were almost impenetrable; it took so long to get anywhere that Emil began to worry that heâd miss his ferry, but once he turned down the alleyway that supposedly led to the store, the crowds melted away.
The store smelled more like a bookstore should than the record store it supposedly was, but that didnât faze Emil. He searched tirelessly through the stacks of records for an eternity or two, until a soft cough at his elbow interrupted him.
âIf you please, sir, we will be closing shortly. Is there anything I might help you find?â The speaker was a small, elderly man, either a senior clerk or possibly the shopkeeper himself.
Even after all these months of listening to Mikkel, Emil still heard far too much static whenever he heard Danish. Yet, he understood what the storekeeper was telling him well enough.
âIâm looking for the Bing Crosby single, âPennies from Heavenâ, if you would be so kind.â Emil tried to keep his impatience and growing desperation from his voice. After all, the man was simply doing his job.
âA Christmas gift, I see? And perhaps, to complete a set?â The old man nodded perspicaciously.
Emil essayed a sheepish smile. âYou see quite well, sir. Does this mean you have a copy?â
âOh, yes, young man. We have a copy over behind the counter, in fact.â They proceeded thither in silence. The old man reached below and pulled out a cardboard sleeve. âYes, this is it, but Iâm afraid itâs quite dear. So dear, in fact, that once they hear the price, none would buy it.â
Emilâs eyebrows rose. âHow much?â
The old man quoted a figure that was just before exhausting Emilâs last öre. Emil swallowed hard, remembering the album with one empty sleeve hidden beneath his bed, and the glow in Lalliâs eyes as the Finn crouched by the phonograph.
âWrap it up for me,â Emil said, the words running together in his haste to get them out before he could reconsider.
âIf I might make a suggestion, sir?â Emil nodded. âPlay the B side first.â
Emil nodded blankly again, and left with his precious cargo.
*
Lalli had been most mysterious about their gift exchange, telling Tuuri to tell Emil that he should meet Lalli at their secret firebug spot an hour after dark. Of course, this left Emil with the problem of finding a portable phonograph that played 78s instead of gramophone cylinders that he could bring along, which made him rather late.
When Emil finally arrived, though, he almost dropped what he was carrying. A grinning Lalli stood before a whole array of fireworks of every size and description, and all ready to be shot off over the sea. That, and the expression on Lalliâs face when he looked through the album, made it all worth it.
With his usual uncanny instinct, Lalli pulled out the disc Emil had spent so much to acquire. When he made to put it on the phonograph, though, Emil remembered what the shopkeeper had said.
âPlay the B side first, Lalli.â Lalli shrugged, handed Emil the lighter to set to the first fireworks, and deftly set the B side playing.
To the (rather ironic) sound of Bing singing âSilent Nightâ, the two boys set off the greatest Christmas fireworks display in the history of Malmö.
