Come on, you don’t have to look so scary. It’s not like I am talking in a way that might sound threatening because I want to be threatening. I just want our church’s priest to faithfully fulfill his role as an educator. The only one trying to sabotage you is yourself. I’m only demanding my right to education by speaking in a way that maybe could be interpreted as threatening. Even a child would know who the bad guy is here.
“Well, I hope you will believe me that I won’t do any such thing as selling your books.” If that were the case, I would have stolen, not borrowed them. I tried my best to convey this message with my mischievous smile. “However, I can’t guarantee that I won’t get your books dirty. I will try my best, but accidents will happen.” Before the priest could get an objection out of his mouth, I added the following words, which were hard to deny, “Aren’t books getting naturally worn down over time too?”
“Well yes, eventually they will get damaged,” he admitted.
As expected, he agreed with me. If I were talking to someone who had left all their reason in another realm, this wouldn’t have worked. Luckily, Father Folke was a logical person, so with a feeling of gratitude, I expanded upon his words. “Exactly. Books will deteriorate and eventually perish. I wonder how often those books have been read so far? And how often will they be read until then?”
Obviously, there was no way of knowing, but I was certain that the answer was not very often. At the very least, it looked like they would naturally lose their form before being worn out from reading.
“Wouldn’t those books also prefer to maybe receive some damage being read by me, rather than decaying while simply collecting dust?” I continued. “Besides, if I read them, there is a chance that they will be resurrected in the future through my memories.”
“I see.” The priest looked impressed as he crossed his arms and nodded several times. “I have to admit that you are a glib-tongued brat. Are you sure you are the child of a farmer? You sound more like a merchant to me.”
“I think you already know the answer to that question.”
“Right... Well, out of consideration for your eloquent speech, I’ll let you borrow a book. Make sure you read it thoroughly so it can be passed down to future gen—” And just as it looked like I had gotten my way, it seemed that Folke had come back to his senses. “Wait a minute! You can’t even read!”
“Damn, you noticed.”
“Damn you, you dangerous little brat!”
“Me? Dangerous? I wouldn’t even harm a fly! I’m only a helpless, innocent eight-year-old!”
What an outrageous attempt to damage my reputation! I wasn’t trying to trick him. Maybe I worded it in a way that could be interpreted like I was, but I was merely trying to convince him.
“Yes, it is true that I can’t read right now. That is why I want you to lend me an easy book, so I can teach myself.”
“Don’t be ridiculous! If it was that easy to learn how to read, they wouldn’t have to send priests like me to remote villages.”
“I didn’t say it was easy. Please let me borrow a book with scripture passages that you often recite during service, like a textbook compiled of them. A collection of prayers? That would be good.”
Father Folke was thinking to himself while looking like he had just been proposed a get-rich-quick scheme by a swindler. He must have been suspecting that I had laid out another trap.
Once again, I might have been talking in a way that could be interpreted as a threat or a swindle, but I was only trying to convince him; nothing I said warranted this much suspicion towards me. Please just look at my puppy-dog eyes and believe me.
“There! You got that suspicious look on you again!”
Folke must not be seeing right. Maybe due to his insomnia.
“Whatever,” he finally said, “if that’s what you want, I have a manuscript that I wrote myself. Even if you tried selling it, you wouldn’t be able to make much money out of it, and even if it gets damaged, it wouldn’t be a problem.”
“Thank you so much, Father Folke! May God bless you!”
In the end, all my convincing had worked. After all, taking your time and being polite in conversation was the best approach! Violence, as well as swindling and threats, were the tools of barbarians who didn’t know how to reason. People could understand each other if they talked rationally to each other.
With a great sense of achievement, I reached out for the manuscript. But Folke held on to it with a tight grip, not wanting to let it go.
“Once again, thank you so much. Please rest assured that I will take good care of the manuscript.” Let go of it, you bastard.
“Listen, don’t even think about doing anything strange.”
“Even if you don’t intimidate me; I am not planning to do anything strange.” Hurry up and hand it over. Just let go. This is mine now.
At last, Folke reluctantly let go of the manuscript, as he should have done from the start. I refrained from saying anything regarding his generosity, his slowness, or his stinginess, flipped through the book—or rather, the stack of papers—and with my eyes traced the letters whose meaning eluded me.
Among them, I discovered a few letters which seemed familiar, so I asked Folke, “Could you please tell me how to read this sentence?”
“Hey, didn’t you say you wouldn’t ask anything else?”
“I did say that this was all I would ask of you in your capacity as the educator of this village. So, this time, I am asking you in your capacity as the priest.” Come on, don’t just stand there with that stupid look on your face; hurry up and tell me. I swear I won’t ask you for anything else... At least not today.
According to Folke, it was a prayer that was widely used. Not just by priests, but also among the peasants. It read ‘Strong wolf god, wise monkey god, and fierce dragon god. Bless us with your great powers today.’
As I had expected. I had already guessed it when I saw the punctuation and the letters for ‘wolf god,’ ‘monkey god,’ and ‘dragon god,’ which were the same as those of the engravings on the idols worshiped at the church. These letters were phonograms and not ideograms. Lucky me!
It took me one month to finally finish reading the thin manuscript. Reading unknown letters was already a difficult feat, only made harder by the fact that it was a handwritten manuscript. Regardless, the main reason why it took me so long was the lack of free time.
The fall harvest had ended a month ago, so farm work had calmed down a bit, but that didn’t mean that farmers had free time at their hands. If we didn’t plant winter wheat in anticipation of spring harvest, we would face starvation, and if we didn’t make preparations for passing winter, we would freeze to death. It felt like playing the game of life on nightmare mode, where even the slightest bit of negligence led to immediate death. The only consolation was that we had a lower death rate than other colder regions during winter because we didn’t get much snow. What an abysmal standard for consolation.
“So, can I borrow the next book, please?”
“What, are you already bored of this one?”
As usual, the sleep-deprived Folke rolled his eyes. I had no idea what annoyed him so much.
“Wouldn’t you say one month is quite long for this manuscript?” I countered.
“It’s only one month. There is no way your reading ability has progressed much at all in one month. Especially teaching yourself.”
“Huh?” It seemed like we were talking past each other. He thought I had given up teaching myself how to read with this book. I was a little offended, but that would have been a correct assumption if I didn’t have my apparent past-life memories. As I strove to be an honorable person, I remembered my debt of gratitude towards the priest for letting me borrow the book and politely rephrased, “Oh no, I already remembered all the letters in this book, so could you please let me borrow another one?”
“Don’t think I’m stupid. If you’re going to lie, make it a bit more believable.”