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26
Jakob
I’ve never pictured myself as a joiner, but I quickly learn that being married to Jo comes with responsibilities to the village.
Today, I’m at the community center sitting at a conference table with Jo and several other prominent townspeople, discussing the upcoming spring equinox festivities.
“I think we need to spruce up our public spaces,” declares Sandra from the farmer’s market, and I agree, offering up my skills to add a fresh coat of paint wherever needed.
I sense something is up when Sandra, Mr. Lundgren the mailman, and Sabine from the pub exchange looks.
The seasons has passed in a near perfect rhythm, nearly free of the unease I feel in the city. While Jo goes to work, I spend my days sculpting. To bring in some money, I help villagers with odd jobs. Eventually, with a little pressure from the villagers, I have begun teaching a children’s art class once a week here at the community center.
As the committee continues its discussion, my hand goes to my pocket. I run my fingers around the hard metal ring deep inside it, the B in on the face of it still a mystery.
Mainly, the conversation revolves around ling some hardier flowers and replacing dying and shrubs. There’s also talk of painting light poles and benches and generally preparing for the busier months.
So I am taken it back when Mr. Lundgren pipes up with, “I think what our street needs is few art pieces. What do you say, Jacob?”
Before I can answer, Sandra comments, “Oh yes! I think some of Jacob’s sculptures as a permanent addition to our street would be absolutely wonderful.”
“My sculptures?”
Josephine nods in agreement. “Of course. You should be proud that everyone loves your work. Please say yes.”
What choice do I have when my wife pleads?
27
One month later
Jo
We are worn out from the day’s activities. Jakob and I and many others have spent all day planting flowers, painting benches and—best of all—installing Jakob’s sculptures in front of local businesses. They add a certain whimsy to this special place, and I couldn’t be prouder.
“Let’s stop in for a pint,” Jakob says on our walk home.
“Are you sure? This is a lot of human interaction. Especially you, Jakob,” I say, nudging him playfully.
He assures me he’s up for it. “I want to squeeze out every last moment of peace and quiet before the tourists return for summer,” he says.
Inside, Sabine is ecstatic to see us.
She treats us to a free round of drinks, which is lovely. And yet something feels off with Sabine. I can’t put my finger on it. She’s always been friendly but now, she seems a little on edge. Maybe she’s tired from a long day outside, helping with the town glow-up.
“I’m so glad you’re here!” exclaims Sabine. “We’re having a Supernatural trivia night. I know how much you love that show, Jo.”
Jakob chuckles. “Then it’s decided.”
We sit in a cozy booth by the window and sip our beers.
A server comes by and hands us a small dry-erase board and a black marker.
Jakob seems eager to participate. In fact, his whole demeanor around the townspeople has grown easier throughout the last several months.
I set aside my feelings of unease, happy that Jakob is growing accustomed to small town life.
He leans over the table as if he’s examining my face. “Is everything all right with you, Jo? Are you too tired for this? We’ve spent the whole day working. We can go if you want.”
