Kalle believed all he needed for another summer in Småland’s deep forests.
But beyond the idleness, the farm, the lake and the warmth of a summer family, he finds something no one ever talks about.
A mysterious man moves quietly at the edge of the village. A path begins to open. And in the end, a gift greater than Kalle could have ever known.
"The Best Summer Ever and the Gift of Forever" is a warm, exciting and mystical story about childhood’s magic, human goodness and the gift of a summer that can last a lifetime.
Excerpts from the Book
The Two Families
This story takes place in the early 1970s, at a time when the world surrounding ten-year-old Kalle seemed to consist mainly of people who were both numerous and very tall. That was hardly surprising, because he was still rather short for his age and, from his point of view, almost every adult appeared to tower above him.
Naturally, Kalle had a mother and a father, as well as four siblings, but although they played an important part in his life, they were not the true centre of this particular story. That place belonged instead to the summer family who lived deep among the forests, lakes and small fields of Småland.
The family consisted of Ingrid and Reine, their daughter Bettan and their two sons, Yngve and Sten, the latter quickly becoming Kalle’s favourite summer brother. The farm also had its own collection of animals, including the two cows Elsa and Tugga Gräs, whose name literally meant Chew Grass, along with Nasse in the stable, Svina Sig and a noisy gathering of clucking egg producers who seemed determined to make themselves heard from morning until evening.
There was also Anton, a rather secretive and mysterious man whose real name, at least in the beginning, was known only to Reine. Kalle simply referred to him as the mysterious man, which seemed entirely suitable considering that nobody appeared willing to explain who he was, where he lived or why he was so often somewhere nearby without ever truly being part of the family.
Kalle’s friend Allan could also be found somewhere among the trees and scattered farms of Småland, although his exact place in the story would become clearer later. As for the mysterious man, the reason Kalle believed that name suited him so perfectly would reveal itself in time.
Kalle, of course, had a family of his own, and had he been asked to describe them in only a few words, he would probably have begun with his older sister. She was tough, slightly crazy and sometimes hopelessly clumsy, but she was also extremely kind and loyal, and at times she was almost like a second mother to him.
The eldest of his younger sisters preferred to follow her own path. She studied hard, loved books and occasionally stood in front of the mirror singing opera, although nobody except perhaps herself understood why. The youngest sister, meanwhile, looked like a small fashion model with her long blonde hair and her graceful way of moving, almost like a gazelle. She was always present, yet somehow managed to pass through a room without drawing much attention to herself.
Finally, there was Kalle’s beloved little brother, who was equally loved by the entire family and possessed an endless supply of humour, curiosity and unexpected ideas, some of which were more sensible than others.
Kalle’s mother was the safe harbour of the family, the person who made certain that the children had what they needed even when life demanded more of her than seemed reasonable. Raising five children would have been a full-time occupation in itself, but the house they lived in made everyday life even more demanding. It was far from modern, with only cold running water, a wood-burning stove for heating and just three rooms and a kitchen shared by seven people.
Kalle’s father worked full-time and took on a considerable amount of extra work as well. He was also involved in improving another house that would eventually give the family a better home, although progress was slow, partly because he had only the same twenty-four hours in each day as everyone else. Whenever friends or neighbours needed help repairing their cars, he often assisted them too, which meant that he was rarely short of things to do.
Then there was Svartnos, or Black Nose, the cat who had more or less appointed himself a member of the household by appearing one day and deciding to stay. He was no longer young and preferred to spend most of his time resting near the warmth of the wood-burning stove. All the children agreed that Black Nose suited him perfectly because of the dark patch of fur across his nose, but since he was an elderly cat, their father gradually began calling him Grandpa, and before long that became the name everyone used.
Grandpa sometimes disappeared for a day or two, and occasionally for even longer, which made the children wonder whether he also visited another family. Their real grandfather lived in Germany, and this created a memorable misunderstanding when the youngest sister announced at school that Grandpa had returned.
“Oh, how lovely,” her teacher replied. “Has he come all the way back from Germany?”
“No,” the girl explained. “He has been on the run.”
The idea of an elderly grandfather escaping and later returning caused more than a few amused expressions.
Kalle’s little brother had his own collection of adventures, one of which began with their mother’s habit of occasionally making chicken soup. On one particular day, the boy had been exploring the neighbour’s henhouse and eventually arrived home carrying a very much alive hen beneath his arm.
“Mum, Mum, shall we make soup out of this one?” he asked.
After a great deal of laughter, including several tears of amusement, his mother quietly accompanied him back to the neighbour’s property and returned the unharmed hen. Kalle could only conclude that his younger brother was capable of getting up to a remarkable amount of mischief.
These were the kinds of events that filled life in a small village surrounded by fields and countryside, a place located so far from city life that it might as well have belonged to another world.
Kalle himself, of course, preferred to believe that his own adventures were hardly worth mentioning, although his memory suggested otherwise. One incident had taken place when he was still very small and had cycled the short distance to visit his grandmother, who lived near the centre of the village.
The steps leading to her front door had a heavy steel railing, and at the lower end of it was a round opening positioned almost exactly at Kalle’s eye level. For reasons that made perfect sense to a young and curious boy, but very little sense to anyone else, he suddenly felt an overwhelming need to find out whether his head would fit through it.
It did, with only millimetres to spare.
The problem became obvious when he attempted to pull his head back again and discovered that his ears were now in the way. Kalle screamed, his grandmother came rushing outside, and a lorry driver who had just stopped nearby heard the commotion and hurried over to help.
There stood Kalle, looking like a living portrait trapped inside a badly designed metal frame, until careful pulling and twisting finally released him. With both ears red and burning, he was once again able to enjoy the freedom he had so briefly taken for granted.
That was only one of his moments of inspiration. Another occurred during an unusually hot summer day when he persuaded a friend to accompany him on an expedition. There was no lake or sea anywhere nearby, but they discovered a stream and quickly decided that it would make a perfectly good place for a swim.
They climbed into the water and found it wonderfully cool, although their sense of triumph did not last long. When Kalle returned home, he proudly asked his mother whether she thought he looked unusually clean, whereupon the entire adventure was revealed. He received a serious lecture about the dangers of moving water and was made to understand that streams were not harmless simply because they looked inviting.
Kalle also had a strong love of animals. A large farm stood close to his home, and he spent a great deal of time there. On one occasion, someone had killed a rat, leaving behind a group of helpless young. Feeling sorry for them, Kalle placed them in a small box and carried them home with the intention of keeping them beneath his bed.
His mother was not enthusiastic about the plan, and Kalle’s young mind had failed to understand that the tiny animals could not survive without their mother.
Life was therefore not entirely uneventful, even though Kalle lived in what he considered the middle of nowhere. During those years, it was also common for children to be sent away to summer camps for several weeks. Before leaving, they seemed to require injections against every terrible illness Kalle could imagine, perhaps mad cow disease, the plague or something equally dreadful, and since he disliked needles intensely, the experience never began well.
The camps themselves were no improvement. There were enormous mosquitoes, thick and unpleasantly sticky porridge every morning and compulsory swimming in a lake that appeared far from clean. The outdoor toilets created problems of their own, especially after certain children discovered that a freshly picked stinging nettle could be pushed through a gap and used against whoever happened to be sitting inside.
As a result, Kalle felt as though the entire camp spent four weeks scratching.
After several summers that had offered more discomfort than pleasure, his parents arranged for him to stay with a summer family instead. He remembered very little about the first family, probably because almost nothing happened while he was there. The second family had been friendly, although rather unusual in ways he could no longer fully explain.
By then, his parents had realised that Kalle did not enjoy being sent away during the summer, but the following year, when he was ten, a completely different possibility appeared. He was offered the chance to travel to Småland and stay with the same family his beloved older sister had already visited for two summers.
From everything she told him, she had loved every moment of her time there.
Now, at last, the lucky girl would be accompanied by her younger brother.
[...]
The Enormous Project
Anton’s carefully prepared plans for the enormous project showed that, once the extensive excavation work had been completed, the large glass sections surrounding much of the complex would be constructed from exceptionally strong glass blocks capable of carrying great weight and withstanding considerable pressure. Large parts of the interior would also be divided into two levels, although not throughout the entire building, because Anton wanted the design to follow the natural shape of the land above rather than forcing every section into the same rigid pattern.
The guiding principle behind the whole project was that almost everything should be created for children. Apart from the necessary kitchens, bathrooms, toilets, service rooms and technical spaces, the interior was designed to feel welcoming, irresistible and filled with opportunities for discovery.
A walking route several kilometres long formed the central path through the complex, and along it Anton had created one imaginative world after another. These were not intended merely to be looked at from a distance. Children would be able to enter them, explore hidden routes and discover details for themselves, while modern sound and lighting technology made each environment feel alive.
Smaller paths branched away from the main route and led towards new adventures. Some areas followed fairground themes, others were devoted to sport, animals, fairy tales or mysterious places where nobody could be certain what waited around the next corner. Anton had wanted the children to have fun, and as far as he was concerned, there were few sights more rewarding than happy children completely absorbed in play.
When he finally stood before the completed creation, the result exceeded even his own expectations. For the first time in his life, Anton felt that he had built something lasting and genuinely meaningful, rather than simply increasing a fortune that had already been larger than he could ever spend.
His relationship with Ingrid and Reine had also continued to develop warmly, and both had supported him without demanding to know more than he was prepared to reveal.
The following day, Ingrid, Reine and the two summer children were due to visit for a full tour. Anton planned to transport them around the enormous site in a small electric vehicle resembling a golf cart, because walking through every section would have taken far too long.
Morning arrived, and once Reine had completed the milking and the essential farm work, the four visitors gathered outside the gates. Anton opened them and welcomed everyone warmly.
They began with the section closest to the entrance, Anton’s private residence, which immediately received enthusiastic approval.
“It’s beautiful,” Ingrid said. “Very beautiful.”
Beside it were the rooms Anton intended to use as offices, a practical arrangement that allowed him to live close to his work without allowing the two parts of his life to become completely mixed together.
The group continued forward, but after a short distance Anton stopped. His expression became serious, and for a moment he appeared almost nervous.
“I have made a few enquiries,” he began, looking towards Ingrid and Reine, “and I understand that when the time eventually comes for you to retire, Yngve would very much like to take over the farm. Because of that, there is something I would like to offer you.”
He led them farther into the complex, beyond the office section, until a beautiful single-storey house appeared before them. It was surrounded by carefully maintained lawns and flowering shrubs, which created the impression of a peaceful home standing in its own sheltered landscape.
“This is my gift to you,” Anton said.
“Whenever you feel ready, it will be waiting.”
Ingrid and Reine, who were not easily shocked, stood completely still, staring at the house as though they had suddenly forgotten how to speak. A tear appeared in the corner of Ingrid’s eye, and although both of them managed to say thank you, the words seemed far too small for what they were feeling.
The tour then continued in the electric cart. Through the enormous glass façade, the visitors could see the winter garden stretching away inside, filled with greenery and designed to maintain a pleasant, even temperature throughout the year. The sight was remarkable enough in summer, but the thought of walking through such a landscape during the darkest part of winter made it even more impressive.
“Can we move here during the summers too?” one of the children from Skåne asked.
At the far end of the complex, Anton showed them a spacious section intended for staff rooms and other future needs. Beyond it was a large covered parking area.
“When you eventually move into the house,” Anton explained, “you can park here and then walk home through the green indoor landscape.”
Ingrid and Reine looked at one another with expressions of complete happiness.
“When I grow up, I’m moving in with you, Anton,” Kalle announced.
Once that section had been inspected, Anton suggested that they stop for coffee.
“Yes, please,” Ingrid replied. “There is quite a lot to take in.”
During the break, Anton revealed several details he had never previously shared with anyone outside the project.
“In case you have been wondering, Reine, I succeeded in persuading the government to finance the outer structure of the building,” he explained. “That does not include my private residence or the other personal areas, of course, but they will also cover the full operating costs. I will still remain the principal owner.”
He noticed that the children were beginning to lose interest in the financial explanation and smiled.
“That is enough about costs and ownership. I can see that the children are starting to yawn, so perhaps it is time to enter the truly exciting part and allow it to speak for itself.”
He led them towards the only entrance then available to the main interior.
They stepped inside and immediately came to a short staircase leading upward to a long gallery, almost like an enormous balcony, from which they could look down across part of the world Anton had created.
The children stared with eyes as large as table-tennis balls.
“Look!” Kalle shouted. “Scrooge McDuck’s money bin!”
“And there is Goofy’s car with the caravan!”
“Pippi Longstocking’s house is over there!”
Ingrid pointed towards another figure.
“Look, the Tin Man from Alice in Wonderland.”
The adults began to react almost like children themselves as more familiar characters appeared below.
“There’s Ferdinand the Bull sitting beneath the cork tree,” Kalle said, completely absorbed by everything he saw.
Even Reine, who rarely allowed himself to be overwhelmed, looked deeply impressed.
“Please, can we go down and have a closer look?” the children asked almost in unison.
The entire group descended together, but the moment they reached the lower level, the children began moving from one attraction to the next. Exploration had been the central idea behind the whole design, because Anton understood that children loved discovering things for themselves, although perhaps adults were not so different.
There were worlds inspired by fairy tales, mechanical animals that moved and responded like living creatures, mysterious paths, hidden tunnels and countless smaller surprises. Every turn seemed to reveal something new, and the children quickly lost all sense of time.
“Can we go on just one more little adventure?” they pleaded.
Anton looked towards Ingrid and Reine, who were beginning to appear tired and slightly overwhelmed by everything they had seen.
“All right,” he said. “But you must return here every half hour. Do you have watches?”
The children confirmed that they did.
“We’ll sit over there, where you can find us.”
That was all the permission they needed, and within moments they had disappeared once again into Anton’s extraordinary underground world.
- Quote paper
- J Mattsson (Author), 2026, The Best Summer Ever, Munich, GRIN Verlag, https://www.grin.com/document/1763322
