day 27: Song of Songs 4:7 | The Love Letter
You’d think anyone else in the Manor would notice it first.
Maybe someone who had seen, described a bunch of interactions between contrasting characters, like Orpheus. Or someone astute and intelligent, like Dr. Dyer or Miss Wendy. Maybe someone who was in love, like Eli.
But Andrew called his bets first.
“The only reason they have so much patience for each other is because they love each other,” he passionately remarked to Sangria one night outside the chapel room of Oletus Manor after a Mass (the Baron let a priest visit occasionally— he never stayed for long). They had been discussing their fellow residents and who was most likely to kiss under the mistletoe.
Somehow, it led to a discussion about Eurydice Lamb, in her kindness, and Norton Campbell, in his insufferable— er… santicfyingness.
Neither of the conversing duo actually knew much about them outside of matches.
“The only reason a saint like her loves a man like him…” Sangria repeated, raising an eyebrow yet keeping her tone flat. “I’m not surprised.”
They stood in awkward silence for a few moments before Andrew cleared his throat once more. “Thank you for accompanying me at Mass today, Miss Sangria.”
“The joy is mine. Have a good night, Andrew.”
~
A knock came through Andrew’s door that night.
At first, it was quiet.
Now, Andrew was awake, of course-- his sleeping habits since being a gravekeeper never seemed to go away no matter how many sleeping pills he tried-- but being awake did nto constitute being ready for human interaction.
Andrew ignored whoever it was and continued reading through St. Thomas Aquinas’ Summa (which Helena had rewritten for him in simpler terms because Andrew could not understand half of what the saint was saying).
“‘I answer that, As the Philosopher says, "to love is to wish good to someone.”’” Andrew murmured aloud, squinting at the large print of Helena’s handwriting. He shifted his lantern further away; it started to hurt his eyes. Or maybe it was the reading. Or maybe it was his brain hurting causing his eyes to hurt as well.
Andrew didn’t even know who the Philosopher was--
Knock, knock, knock!
Andrew felt the urge to melt into his bed and chop his ears off. He prayed for strength before straining his eyes to read the page once more. “‘Hence the movement of love has a twofold tendency’...”
So, love was more complex than what people thought? There were more things to love than just... just--?!
KNOCK! KNOCK!
Andrew stiffly shut the book, straightened his back, and snatched the lantern.
It must have been a murderer, he believed as he trudged over to the door, because no one in the Manor cared enough about Andrew to want to visit him at, oh, what? Dead midnight?
Andrew pried the door open just a hint.
“Get ou--” Andrew lowly began just as the unwelcome stranger slammed the door open and welcomed himself in.
“Eli, I… I just can’t do this anymore!”
Andrew blinked as whirled around to see that the stranger was none other than… Norton Campbell? Vividly gesturing? Walking around while shouting like some bloody toddler?
“How the pyrite do you do it, man?! I just pick up the bloody pen to try and write that stupid love letter and--!” Norton’s eyes fluttered open.
The moment he realized he, in fact, wasn’t in Eli’s room and wasn’t talking to Eli Clark, he whirled around to see who he was talking to.
And when he realized it was none other than Mr. Graveboy Kreiss, he thought he felt his soul leave his body.
~
“So… let me get this straight,” Andrew blinked. A lantern sat between the two men on the floor. “You made a bet with Eli to write a love letter to Eurydice Lamb to get a chunk of gold as a joke… but also to possibly get a confession ba--”
“Shut up. I never said anything about a honking confession, graveboy.”
“...Just checking.”
“Anyway, you seem like the kind of guy to know a thing or two about love letters. Since, you know, you hog up the library with Helena every afternoon,” Norton blew some dark strands of hair out of his face. “Thought you couldn’t read.”
At that, Andrew’s eyes sharpened. “I can blackmail you.”
“But you won’t. Because you’re a good Christian man.” Norton rolled his eyes.
“Don’t test those limits, Campbell.”
“I won’t-- I just want Eli off my case. And some money.”
“The love of money is the root of all evil…” Andrew murmured.
“Oh, shut up, Kreiss-- you’re a sinner too,” Norton scoffed. “Annnd you could probably help me write the love letter.”
“I’ve never been in love.”
“Who said you needed to be? Just whip out some stuff from the Bible, make it look pretty, and let me sign off--”
“I don’t do unpaid labor unless it's for a charitable cause,” Andrew hissed. “You don’t want to be a charity case, do you, Campbell?”
“Catholic boy’s got a bite, eh…”
“Who even talks like that?” Andrew exasperatedly retorted.
“Anyway…” Norton glared at him. “Help me write the love letter and… and, uh…”
“I don’t want anything from you.”
“Thought you didn’t do unpaid labor, Kreiss. What, do you want me to get baptized? Is that it?”
“Literally not how that works.”
Norton stifled a snort.
“Stop laughing at me-- I hate that.”
“Sorry,” Norton folded his arms, although something in his tone was surprisingly genuine. “Just tell me what you want so this bet can be over already.”
Andrew paused. His eyes fell to the floor as he tapped his chin, deep in thought.
Until he came up with something. “Can… Can I have you give one of your gems to Sangria?”
“Hell no.”
“...Okay.” Andrew visibly cringed.
“Sorry-- heavens no.”
Andrew raised a brow at the sudden correction. Then he tried to form a smile. “Thank you.”
The two looked at each other.
“I don’t know what to say,” Andrew shrugged.
“Just do it for free then,” Norton shrugged. “Or… how about this: you give me ideas and then I write the whole thing. And I’ll consider your gem thing.”
Andrew hummed. And then he nodded.
~
“This is the most romantic book in the Bible,” Andrew presented the rather hefty book to him-- it seemed to be one of the only intricate things in the man’s room. It had thick leather binding and lovely embroidery on the cover.
It lay sprawled open on a table the two were now seated at (Andrew had remembered he had furniture-- it usually remained tucked away in a corner as he usually never got visitors), open to a page that read, in big bold letters:
“Hohelied 1”
“Sounds romantic,” Norton sarcastically snided as his eyes skimmed over the page. The writing wasn’t even in English.
Andrew rolled his eyes. “It means ‘Song of Songs’.”
“Sounds funny.”
“Hey.”
“Sounds like something I wouldn’t be into.” Norton sighed. “Anyway, what’s it about? Just give me a summary-- not here for a sermon.”
“I wasn’t about to give a… well, it's about a woman and a man’s relationship. They desperately want each other, but often find themselves apart. If I remember correctly…”
“What do you mean ‘if I remember correctly’?!”
“It's been a long time since I’ve read this book, okay?”
“Ohh, good grief, Kreiss. Why’s it in German too?”
“Guess which language I learned as a kid,” Andrew’s eyes practically bulged out of his skull. “Are you dense…”
“Hey.”
“Do you not speak it?”
“Why the he…ck… would I know German?”
“Guess I’ll just translate it for you then,” Andrew mumbled, flipping through the pages.
And translate he did-- he summarized the first few chapters and read some quotes (avoiding the more risque ones to avoid Norton pressing him about it), none of which inspired Norton to write anything.
Until Andrew went into the fourth chapter.
“‘Alles ist schön an dir, meine Freundin, und kein Fehl ist an dir’,” Andrew read aloud. Then, he looked up at Norton. “It means ‘Everything is beautiful about you, my friend, and there is no fault with you’.”
“Took us long enough,” Norton sighed. “I like that one.”
“Do you want some more, or--”
“Nah. But… thank you Kreiss,” Norton chuckled.
And… he smiled.
(Andrew smiled back.)
~
Dear Eurydice Lamb,
You know, I’m pretty sure I love you.
Take that however you will. But since Kreiss is standing over my shoulder watching me write this, you’d do well to remember that saying ‘love your neighbor’ and all that gold.
(Kreiss just told me it involves wishing good on someone. So... don't think any weird. I hope you have all the good, Eurydice.)
Anyway, I love you. That’s great. But if I showed this letter to my dear friend Eli Clark right now, he’d say I didn’t do it right and would have me rewrite the whole darn thing before he gives me the reward for keeping my end of the bet.
Tonight Andrew told me about this song in the Bible I’ve finally gotten the courage to tell (write) to you something I think describes you perfectly.
It goes, ‘Everything is beautiful about you, my friend, and there is no fault with you’.
Don’t ask me to write it in German the first time Kreiss read it to me. I’m not that smart, unlike you.
Anyway, I hope you have a great day or night whenever you choose to read this. Whatever you do, don’t tell anybody else I sent this to you, okay?
Actually tell Eli so I can get my g
Thanks for reading,
Love,
Norton Campbell
P.S Kreiss says God bless you
Extra:
“Choose from my vast collection of gems on this table only, Kreiss.”
Andrew’s eyes widened at Norton’s indeed vast collection. If he sold all of these, he’d be stinking rich…
If he sold it to someone out the Manor, that was. The Baron didn’t buy anything from anybody. (He didn’t know about Orpheus and Joseph’s perpetual fudge-buying from the kids’ fundraisers.)
“Uh…” Andrew’s head spun from the surreal amount of gorgeous options. He was tempted to ask Norton where he had gotten all of these, but he also had a feeling Norton would just kick him out if he tried.
Finally, Andrew’s eyes rested on a red, pear shaped gem.
“That one catch your eye?” Norton pointed to the exact one Andrew had been staring at.
“Yeah.”
“Take it-- it's a sangria.”
“No way.”
“Yes way.”
“Thank you,” Andrew looked up as Norton scooped the gem into his hands and placed it into Andrew’s. Andrew looked at the gem, and then back up at Norton.
And… he smiled.
(Norton smiled back.)