He kept his job as a night cleaner, but he gave up his job at the construction site.
He no longer had a house to build, and anyway he’d learned so much about construction by this point
that the men in their hard hats no longer had anything to teach him.
They gave him a toolbox as a farewell present. This time with new-bought tools.
“To the puppy. To help you build something that lasts,” they’d written on a piece of paper.
Ove had no immediate use for it, so he carried it about aimlessly for a few days.
Finally the old lady renting him a room took pity on him and started looking for things around the house for him to mend.
It was more peaceful that way for both of them. Later that year he enlisted for military service.
He scored the highest possible mark for every physical test. The recruitment officer liked this taciturn young man who seemed as strong as a bear,
and he pressed him to consider a career as a professional soldier.
Ove thought it sounded good. Military personnel wore uniforms and followed orders. All knew what they were doing. All had a function.
Things had a place. Ove felt he could actually be good as a soldier.
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