We, the Drowned - Carsten Jensen [25]
Laurids temporarily regained his fame as a heavenly traveler because Ejnar had described the wondrous event in a letter, and now we all wanted to hear it from the horse's mouth—except for Karoline, who was convinced that it was just another of her husband's tall tales.
The children formed a circle around him, calling out, "Papa tru, tell us a story, tell us a story!"
Albert, the youngest, yelled the loudest and gazed at his father with shining eyes. The two of them were like two peas in a pod.
But Laurids simply looked at them with this new, strange expression he'd acquired in captivity, as though they weren't even his children and the notion of having ever produced them was unthinkable.
So Ejnar had to tell them the story instead, and he did it so well that everyone thought he must have been practicing it for ages. The house filled with people who'd come to see Laurids. Karoline stood out in the kitchen, boiling water to make coffee, and turned her broad back to us, clattering the cups, as she was in the habit of doing whenever she was angry with her husband. But she finally succumbed and joined us in the parlor to listen to Ejnar.
"We will never forget how we fought for Denmark's glory," Ejnar said.
Everyone nodded, suddenly consumed by ardent patriotism.
But what Ejnar said next startled us. "We fought for Denmark's glory," he repeated. "But we found only disgrace. We willingly risked life and limb, and showed undaunted courage, to save the honor of our country. But thanks to a lousy leader, we lost it. I'll never forget how those cannonballs hailed down on us on Maundy Thursday. How we fought and fell and died in smoke and flames, and how that evening we were carted off to Eckernförde like slaves and locked up in God's house. How we lay there on the straw, exhausted and dazed. I won't forget how the Christian the Eighth was blown up and how so many poor souls died; how on Good Friday we were marched to Rendsburg, to another church, and how again we had to sleep on straw and eat stale bread for our Easter lunch. How the house of God became a cage for slaves, full of degradation and blasphemy, and how our captivity was a stretch of dark, miserable days. I'll never forget any of that, as long as I live."
"I saw Laurids," Ejnar continued, "and that became my only hope and comfort in captivity. I saw Laurids fly toward Heaven from the deck of the burning ship, as high as the main, and I saw him come back down again and land on his feet. And that's how I knew we'd be seeing our loved ones again."
"I've told you before, Ejnar, and I'll tell you again, it was the boots."
Laurids stuck out his foot so everyone could see his sturdy leather sea boots.
"The boots saved me. That's all there is to it."
"Didn't you see Saint Peter's bare behind?" asked Laves Petersen, the little carpenter, for this rumor was already spreading like wildfire. Little Clausen had been unable to keep his mouth shut.
"Yes, I saw the behind of Saint Peter," Laurids said.
But his voice sounded weary and distant, as though he'd already forgotten the episode. We knew immediately that this was all we'd get from him. Most of us believed that just as each man has his own private hell, he also has his own private heaven. And it's his right to keep it to himself.
Those of us who'd been left behind in Marstal couldn't help noticing that Laurids was a changed man. We understood that the war had been a bad time for him and that he'd witnessed things that do a man no good. But he'd already been shipwrecked twice without its affecting him in the slightest. Little Clausen said that the fighting had been like a ship going down, only worse. But Ejnar retorted that Little Clausen had spent most of the battle with his feet in the water and had escaped with