2

“Good morning, Mr. Sansi,” she said hurriedly, rising from the stool. She just reached over the high counter and thought for a moment about standing on the stool. She changed her mind and instead approached the man who was standing just inside the door. “Can I help you?” she asked, stopping a short distance from him. She had had a good upbringing and knew how to treat customers who were in the upper classes of society.

Mr. Sansi was a regular customer of her father, and she was happy he had arrived today. He rarely left the shop without buying something.

“Where’s your father?” he asked, looking at Mary.

“He’s been sick and is resting, Mr. Sansi,” Mary replied.

“And your mother?”

“She too has been sick, Mr. Sansi. But they are both on the mend,” Mary hurried to add.

“I understand. So you’re in charge of the shop today?” Mr. Sansi asked.

“Yes, sir.”

“I’ve been here a couple of times in the last few weeks, hoping it would be open. I was pleased when I saw it was open today. But I don’t know if I should do business with you; you’re just a child,” he said, looking around the store. Mary saw he was looking extra closely at a beer flagon with a beautifully decorated lid. If she sold it, she could buy both meat and vegetables, Mary thought.

“The gentleman is absolutely right,  I’m just a child, but it’s not me you would do business with. It’s my father,” she said cautiously. “I will just be the one to accept the payment. All the items are still made by my father. It’s his craftsmanship, sir.” Mr. Sansi looked at her again.

“How long have you been taking care of your parents?” he asked.

“For two weeks, sir,” she replied.

“For two weeks, you say?” He seemed to think for a while. “I might buy one of your father’s pieces, but I don’t feel like going farther into the shop and exposing myself more to the risk of contracting the sickness. What do you recommend I buy from your father?” Mary felt her heart take a leap. She turned around and walked towards the objects. She knew he wanted the beer flagon. But it was one of the most expensive items in the shop. Would it seem desperate if she showed him that? Should she choose something else? She hesitated for a moment before taking up a piece of cloth and wrapping it around the flagon before heading back towards Mr. Sansi.

“This is a very well-made beer flagon.” she said, unfolding the fabric so he could see it. She made sure the object caught the sunlight falling through the windows. “As the gentleman can see, it’s decorated with leaves and at the sides it has beautiful hunting scenes,” she said, tilting and turning the flagon before reaching it toward him. Mr. Sansi carefully received the flagon and scrutinized it carefully. Mary was terribly nervous he would give back the beer flagon and leave. She needed the money. She had to sell at least some small item to Mr. Sansi. After reviewing it, he turned to Mary.

“How much?” Her heart stopped beating; her brain worked feverishly.

“Twelve kresi sir,” she replied.

“Twelve kresi, that’s not cheap,” he said earnestly. “I can give you 7 kresi.” It was a lot of money, but the flagon was worth more. Mary knew that. Her father had written 10 kresi in the logbook. It could be enough for almost two kilos of meat. But she also knew this was how it was done, to do business. Her father had taught her that whoever sold something always asked for too much and the one who bought always offered too little. In the end, a reasonable price was reached. Mary entered the haggling with enthusiasm. In the end, she said.

“The gentleman is kind, but I can’t lower the price anymore. Possibly I could lower your price to 10 kresi and 5 vorm. Just because it’s you, sir, and because I know my father appreciates your business.”

“Ten kresi and 5 vorm—yes, that’s a price I can live with. It’s settled,” Mr. Sansi said, reaching out to her. Mary smiled and shook his hand.

“Do you want me to wrap the flagon, sir?” she asked.

“Yes, thank you,” he replied, waiting in the door while Mary walked up to the counter and picked up a small wooden box. She put some straw in the wooden box, wrapped the beer flagon in the piece of cloth she was holding it in, and put it in the straw. After that, she nailed the lid to the box. She picked up 5 vorm to give back change. When she took the 5 vorm out of the money purse, there were only 7 vorm left. But soon, she thought, there would be more money there. She went up to Mr. Sansi and gave him the wooden box.

“It will be 10 kresi and 5 vorm, sir,” she said. Mr. Sansi smiled down at her and put 11 kresi in her hand before taking the box from her.

“One moment, you’ll get your 5 vorm, sir,” she said, shoving her hand in her pocket to pick up the coins.

“Keep them, my friend. I have received a beautiful flagon that will spread envy among my friends, and I have had the pleasure of doing business with a bright little girl. You’ve earned a little extra,” he replied, smiling. “Give my regards to your father and tell him I hope to do business with him in person soon.”

“Thank you very much, sir,” said Mary, and curtsied as nicely as she could. “I will relay your greetings to him.”

“It’s time for me to go. I hope we meet again, little one,” Mr. Sansi said, turning around and walking out the door.

“Goodbye, sir, and God bless you,” said Mary, and she curtsied once again. She went back into the store and put the money in the money bag that was behind the counter. It felt heavier and pleasantly full when she closed it again. She quickly went out into the kitchen and picked up the small stool they used to milk their goats. It was just high enough for Mary to use behind the counter. If she was standing on the small stool, she reached over the counter and yet it was not so high that she needed to climb on to it. She took up her father’s logbook and looked up the beer flagon in there. It said he expected to sell it for 10 kresi. Mary took out the ink and pen and wrote that the money received was 11 kresi. She was very proud when she closed the book. Not everyone could read and write. Her friends couldn’t, not even Erik, who was two years older than her and who was better than her at almost everything. But Mary’s father could, and he had taught her. He said it was important if she was to help in the shop. Mary’s mother could neither read nor write. Both Mary and her father had tried to teach her, but she had never learned. Mary sat on the high stool behind the counter again and waited.

Time passed slowly. The cold winter air found its way into the store and though the sun was shining, it did not offer any warmth. It was boring to sit behind the counter on the stool. Mary would rather be upstairs with her mother and father, but she didn’t dare to risk that she might miss other customers. She was almost sleeping on the stool when the sun in the doorway was again obscured. She jumped up and looked at the woman standing outside the store.

“Good day, Mrs. Korpi,” she said, looking at Erik’s mother. Mrs. Korpi lived just a couple of houses away and used to give Mary freshly baked bread with butter when Mary visited them.

“Good day, Mary. I see the shop is open today.”

“Yes, it is. Come on in,” Mary replied, making a gesture for Mrs. Korpi to enter. Mrs. Korpi first looked into the shop and then appeared to look at the door frame.

“Thank you, my friend, but I can’t stay that long,” she said. Mary walked out from behind the counter and walked closer to Mrs. Korpi. It seemed like she would get to do all the business in the doorway today, she thought.