Fresh Fish For Christmas
A Christmas fairytale written and illustrated by Louise Molinder in December 2022.
Once upon a time, there was a village in a valley far from the sea. Tion was the village’s name and it had become tradition in the times of kings and queens, to eat fresh fish every Christmas.
Legend had it that food that was salty and pickled, had Queen Margarethe incur severe stomach pains. Forced to move to a new location where food could be acquired freshly, when she left, the village was entrusted to her one and only son Julien. He was only
17 years old at the time and took charge.
Tion was his home, but it came with sadness and longing, and that is how one very special tradition would come about: Every year, whoever wanted to ameliorate their life circumstances, had to travel to Electus to purchase fresh fish for the royal house, as soon as the snow made its appearance around Christmas. Because the fish would become frozen on the journey back to Tion, salt to cure it could be dispensed with altogether.
On the Third Sunday of Advent, local resident Richard was out chopping wood to make sure the fire in the inn would not go out since many of the surrounding farm families would come here to celebrate during Christmas.
For the village, Christmas meant everything. Christmas was often the time when the people in the area met the love of their life. It was also the time for mourning loved ones and celebrating what life still had in store for those left behind. As stunningly beautiful that the winters were, they were also times of peril. The inn was made up of two buildings. Attached to the big house was an annex whose fireplace would also be lit up, the extra room held in readiness in case someone fell ill during Christmas.
Christmas wasn’t just a holiday; it held the highest of importance for people in the area, to check in with one another to make sure that everyone could make it through the winter months. Meetings were held in the days between Christmas and New Year’s Eve; inventories taken of what would survive storage; and bartering engaged in to ensure every household had what was needed.
Alberto was a man in his forties in charge of bringing the fish to town every Christmas. He didn’t always live here. It was his father who had brought the family’s leather business to Tion from Electus after he had met one of the elderly men in charge of transportation. Their know-how brought resounding success to the area with Alberto’s father gaining a great reputation and becoming privileged. Alberto continued his business and didn’t mind taking over the duties of travelling to Electus, his father having become too tired for the trip. Alberto after all loved visiting his home town and friends in the harbour. But this Christmas, such a visit was fast being put paid to. “STOP! Don’t take it off. STOP.” Alberto couldn’t stop screaming: “Now you keep still, otherwise we can’t be sure it will heal properly.”
Alberto happened to have sprained his foot after slipping on the ice on the doorsteps. “I don’t have time for this, I need to travel to Electus!”
“You’re not travelling anywhere Alberto, not with that foot,” retorted Emma. With Alberto in the middle of his performance, Richard happened to walk in on the situation. The first thing that crossed his mind was: No fresh fish for Christmas! Never again!
“I’ll handle it!” he ventured.
“Are you sure?” Emma asked. “Richard, I’ll explain everything you need once we’re done here.”
After many screams, Evan finally got the shoe off Alberto’s foot. Emma served Alberto a hearty meal to make sure he kept quiet; she’d had enough of this man’s clumsiness that had almost ruined Christmas.
Richard took over stacking the firewood and securing it under the ceiling to make sure it stayed dry. Task accomplished, he made his way back inside where they were all seated to get his instructions. It was then that he felt the sudden pit in his stomach with the realisation that he had never strayed far from the area, except to go hunting and fishing with his friends. “I must say Richard, it makes me so sad not to be able to fulfill my duty in my hometown this year. Nonetheless, you’re a good chap and strong at that, and I don’t doubt for a second that you’ll be able to succeed even if this journey is a tough one. You’ll be travelling through snow and ice with a sled and the Alps can at times be gruelling. However, just before Amoene, whilst travelling south, you’ll have help from my friend Charles. His love for hot air balloons is the greatest gift I’ve ever received. What a time saver, and you’ll be in great company because he wrote me a few days ago to assure me he’s waiting for me.
Elise, Richard’s sister stayed up the night as promised and woke him at 4 am so he could leave the house by sunrise. Only the bare essentials were loaded. A change of socks, underwear, some layers, a pair of trousers, food and of course a few thick candles – not for lighting but for less friction.
Hardly had he set off, Richard felt his nostrils freeze. His speed was good, the air dry. The stars lit up reflections in the snow. Ahead of him he saw the great mountains. The heavy load of the fish, whilst having to work his way through these giants on his return, was already playing on his mind. At least he knew the way, if in the worst case scenario, Charles did not show up for whatever obstacles. Still, Charles was rumoured as a man of his word, a team player.
A warm breath on his cheek almost caught Richard unawares. It was the first daylight. It almost felt scary, sunlight in tones of orange and pink that were soft and eerily quiet at the same time. And amidst it all, the performance of all performances was playing itself out when nature gets to have its way. An owl had emerged in full view before me and with only 100 m to go, it looked as though it was piercing the soul of its victim. A fast dive, with claws bent, snow spreading everywhere, this little mouse did not stand a chance, was dead in a heartbeat and didn’t even have time to scream.
The sun shone bright, Richard was soaked in perspiration. He had removed his woollen jumper a long time ago, reasoning that it would be best to keep it dry for later on, the fabric of his shirt now enough to regulate his steaming body temperature with Amoene having come almost within 270 degrees of his view. A few more hours, if he could keep up the estimated degrees, at around 180 degrees is where he’d meet Charles. Thirsty, but making headway, angling downhill, he preferred not to stop to reach the leather field bottle kept under his shirt, so it would not freeze. When he did eventually stop, the water had all but poured out. He had to replace it with snow.
The realisation of having gone non-stop for so long brought back memories of canoeing with friends: The never-ending competition, just two more kilometres and beyond! He changed into some dry clothes and had his first meal in eight hours. He was overcome with pride; pride at his ancestors. Richard was on to something big and Alberto had placed his trust in him. Just as duties keep us surviving, so too does tradition nourish our souls. He smiled, almost grinned. Alberto was a man of big ideas. He wanted Richard as his apprentice, since Richard had helped out his father hunting and delivering the pelts to Alberto. Although Alberto wanted much for Richard, he’d given him a task to solve before duty: Brainstorm new inventions with leather and so he did.
Richard watched the sky, all the while kicking the snow and soldiering on. Tones of blue and purple would soon give way to tones of pinks and then something rather odd on the horizon that differentiated itself from the natural surrounds. It was Charles preparing the hot air balloon. The adrenaline kicked in, he wasn’t far off now and Richard began to go even faster. The pace suddenly had the same ease with which the owl of the morning had caught its prey. Having taking an extra few minutes to adjust the steering of the sled on his break, now it all made it worthwhile. As he kicked ever faster and faster, the wisps of snowflakes ripped up from the ground ripped through his cheeks like tiny knives. There was no stopping him now and he went flat out.
“There he is!” The man appeared to be in his thirties, with a slightly round face and puffy cheeks, big eyes and a red beard. We need to fire up the burner, in a few hours we can begin to ascend. Here, I prepped some food for you. I was expecting Alberto but come to think of it, I recognise you from when you were a little boy. Richard, right? Well, now tell me all about it. What has Alberto been up to again?
As the hours went by, Richard had dosed off next to the fire when suddenly he felt a hand shaking his shoulder. “Come Richard, the balloon’s ready. Best take a quick leak and we can take off!” As the balloon lifted, Richard felt the tears well up. For the first time, he saw where he lived and what his world looked like from above. It was unforgettable. A stunning wonder beyond compare!
It started to get dark. They were soon to land east of Tinius outside the town. The snow lay white everywhere the land and with a little luck Richard would be able to make his way down to Electus by sled the next day and only have to pay for public transport closer to the centre to get to the harbour. Charles had already invited him to spend the night until the next sunrise when they land: “Now Richard, wasn’t that something?” Charles ventured a grin, his cheeks frozen red. What a time was had so far and for the first time, Richard understood Alberto’s frustration with his foot and not being able to revisit his Italian creature-comfort roots.
Suddenly, his eyes wide open, his heart racing Richard sat up in bed. The rooster was crowing. The lady of the house had prepared some porridge. With Richard’s Italian not quite up to scratch, added to it an exchange of French and German, the conversation somehow became manageable and with Charles, a dry-humoured islander by his side, he somehow found vocabularies for everything.
A brief farewell to Charles who’d wait for him the next day, Richard set off for Electus. It was almost dark by the time he checked into the harbour’s inn.
Esmeralda was berthed in the quay as Captain Giacomo was enjoying his morning coffee. Having been out with his crew all night, the catch had been lucrative and he was confident of a good Christmas, and of even being able to gift his wife and kids for once with chocolate. He watched the tired young man, his first customer marching down the street, his eyes locked on the name of the vessel. It was 6 am and five days until Christmas. Out of nowhere it occurred to him, he hadn’t seen Alberto at all this Christmas.
“Good morning. I’m guessing you’re in charge of the Esmeralda?”
“That’s right son. Unfortunately though we’re already fully ordered and there’s not much I can offer you!”
“But Alberto has sent me and it’s taken me three days to get here!”
Grinning, the captain asked: “So what has he gotten himself into now?”
Thirty-five kilograms of fish in tow, Richard set off back to Tinius. The festive dinner that was then conjured up back home on the farm was beyond compare, the taste of pickling had given way to the mild, sweet flavours of root vegetables and fish au naturel.
The catch was great that year and for his efforts, Charles had made a promise to fly all the way back to Tion with Richard, who had fallen in love with Emma.
