Юхан Теорин - Echoes From the Dead

Hidden in a hollow beneath Nils Kant’s coffin, the police had also found a third body, much smaller than the other two. And with that the case had finally been solved.

The evening papers and national radio and TV reporters had swarmed to Marnäs to follow the whole thing. It had been a hectic time for a local reporter at the center of events — but Bengt had found it difficult to maintain a journalistic distance from what was going on, and had often felt a piercing sadness while he was filing his reports. He had known Lennart Henriksson for several decades: there was nothing to rejoice over in this drama.

But now the sun was shining; it was a kind of Öland New Year. After more than twenty years in the ground, a little boy could finally be buried properly.

When the short ceremony at the graveside was over, Julia and Gerlof Davidsson began to move slowly back toward the church, followed by Jens’s father, Michael.

Julia and Gerlof weren’t talking to each other, as far as Bengt could see from the other side of the wall. He hadn’t seen them speak at all during the whole ceremony. But he still had a strong feeling that they were as close as two family members can possibly be — and he even felt a slight pang of envy.

“That’s that, then,” said the photographer, lowering his camera. “Are we done?”

Bengt took one last look at the faces of Julia and Gerlof — accepting now — and realized the fog he’d glimpsed in them once had at long last lifted.

“We are,” said Bengt. “We can go home now.”

He hadn’t written a single word on his notepad, and would probably just write a brief piece to go with the picture in the paper.

That would have to do. But if anyone were to ask him later what the little boy’s funeral had been like, Bengt Nyberg would be able to reply that it had felt bright and dignified and peaceful, like — well, like a kind of conclusion.

Echoes from the Dead is set mainly at some point in the mid-1990s on the beautiful island of Öland — but an Öland which to some extent exists only in the author’s imagination. Neither the characters nor the businesses in the story are based on real-life individuals or companies, and many places are also invented.

For all the stories and memories they shared with me from their eventful lives, I am grateful to my grandfather, sea captain Ellert Gerlofsson, and his brother, the hairdresser and diver Egon Gerlofsson. For historical facts I would like to thank Stellan Johansson, a sea captain in Bohuslän; Kristian Wedel, a journalist in Gothenburg; and Lars Oscarsson, an attorney in Jönköping.

Many friends have helped me in a variety of ways while I have been writing Echoes from the Dead : thanks to Kajsa Asklöf, Monica Bengtsson, Victoria Hammar, and Peter Nilsson in the writers’ group Litter; Jacob Beck-Friis, Niclas Ekström, Rikard Hedlund, Caroline Karlsson, Mats Larsson, Carlos Olguin, Catarina Oscarsson, Michael Sevholt, Kalle Ulvstig, and Anders Weidemann; as well as to my relatives Lasse and Eva Björk in Kalmar, Hans and Birgitta Gerlofsson in Färjestaden, and Gunilla and Per-Olof Rylander in Borgholm.

I would also like to thank all my excellent, hardworking editors, above all Rickard Berghorn of the journal Minotaur and Kent Björnsson of the publishing firm Schakt, who have taken good care of many of my short stories, as well as Lotta Aquilonius at Wahlström & Widstrand, who took equally good care of Echoes from the Dead.

My mother, Margot Theorin, deserves a considerable eulogy for all the old and new books and newspaper articles about life on Öland with which she has so generously supplied me.

And finally, thank you and a big hug to Helena and Klara for putting up with my daydreaming.

Johan Theorin