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smiled to himself, studying his family as he waded into the water.
    Lina had her long, curly red hair pinned up with a barrette on top of her head. Her swimsuit was brightly colored, with big and little polka dots in various shades of pink against a light blue background. Her fair skin was covered with freckles. She often complained about her weight, and once he had taken her complaints seriously—a mistake that he would never make again. For her birthday he had bought her workout equipment, a gym membership, and an introductory package at Weight Watchers. It was an understatement to say that his wife did not appreciate the gift.
    After more than fifteen years together, Knutas could still find himself surprised that they were married when he looked at her. He loved her and her boldness. She cleaned house and cooked with equal frenzy—everything was on a grand scale with Lina. Big carrots, sweeping gestures, lots of noise and commotion. She liked to be seen and heard. She took up a lot of room. Like now, as she splashed around in the water.
    After their swim, they had coffee on the porch.
    When Knutas saw Lina kick off her wooden clogs and gracefully stretch out her feet, he noticed that even her white ankles had freckles. She closed her eyes and tilted her face toward the sun. He decided not to talk about his job during the weekend.

 
    Smoke from browning meat and the smell of strong spices wafted out of the kitchen and found its way into every nook and cranny. The archaeology students were cooking dinner together. Chili con carne was simmering in a giant pot on the stove, and everyone was pitching in.
    They had kept the menu simple so that they’d have time to make Eldkvarn’s concert at the hotel’s outdoor stage at nine o’clock.
    Martina was standing at the counter with Steven and Eva. They were peeling onions, and tears were running down their faces—not just from the onions. After having downed a number of shots of tequila, they were in high spirits and kept laughing at each other’s bad jokes.
    Twenty students were staying at the youth hostel, and right now they were all in the kitchen. Other guests who popped their heads up the spiral staircase saw at a glance that it would be better to come back later. The three tables were being set, and the coffee table in one corner was littered with bottles and glasses. Someone had brought in a boom box; the volume on the old tape player was obviously turned up too loud and was starting to distort the sound. The heat had prompted someone to open all the windows, and the festivities in the kitchen could be heard far and wide.
    Martina was wearing low-cut jeans and a black camisole. Her blond hair hung loose. She rarely used much makeup, well aware that it wasn’t necessary. A little mascara and lip gloss, nothing more. She was looking forward to seeing him, and she didn’t think that anyone else in the group knew what was going on between them. Occasionally she flirted with someone else, just for the pleasure and amusement of seeing his frustration. They trudged around the excavation site, casting stolen glances at each other. Sometimes he happened to stroke her arm or leg with his hand.
    “Come on and help me taste this,” said Eva, giving her a poke in the side and holding out a spoon. “Is it spicy enough?”
    “It needs a little more,” said Martina, adding more chili powder. “It shouldn’t be bland.”
    The concert evening couldn’t have been more magnificent. The fiery red ball of the sun balanced on the horizon, turning the sea into a gleaming carpet. The aroma of newly grilled lamb still hovered over the concert area from the dinner that had been served at the hotel, and a diverse audience had gathered in front of the stage. Children ran around playing between the blankets; others were swimming in the mirror-smooth water. A group of older motorcyclists had settled down with beer cans in their hands, waiting to enjoy the music. The soft pop-rock tones of Eldkvarn grabbed hold of the listeners and eventually induced nearly everyone to get up and dance.
    Martina was enjoying the intoxicated and relaxed feeling in her body after a whole day of hard work in the field. She was more than a little pleased with herself. Right before they were going to pack things up for the day, she had found an Arabic silver coin, dated 1012. Everyone had congratulated her, and she had been tempted to slip the coin into her pocket so that she could show it to her