Page 46 of The Very Virile Viking

Storvald was ecstatic over the glass eye adornment that Grandma Rose had bought for him, after an examination by some eye healer at the mall—a large indoor marketplace. The object, which fit over the nose and looped behind the ears, was called eyeglasses, and Storvald pronounced them a miracle. He claimed not to care how he looked in them. His close-up vision was much improved, and that was all that mattered.

Grandma Rose had also bought Storvald some paints. So now he could put color on his wood sculptures, as well. Dagny had gotten a water paint set, and she was already showing some talent using it.

Kirsten had purchased a palette of face paints, which did not sit well with Magnus, who had asserted, "I am not raising a harlot here." But then Angela had explained that they were just pale lip glosses suitable for a young girl. At least Kirsten had not come home with a tattoo or a body ring.

"Did you know that children in this country go to school from the time they are six years old—and earlier—till they are eighteen years old? Even girls," Kirsten pointed out.

"Never!" Magnus exclaimed with disbelief. "What is there to learn for"—he did a quick mental calculation—"twelve years?"

"Reading, writing, history, math, science… and much more," Angela told him, a puzzled frown on her face. "Surely there are similar education requirements in Norway. Aren't there?"

"There are not," he declared scoffingly. "Unlike some men, I have no objection to women learning…

even learning to read and write, but…" Magnus could see that not just Angela, but Grandma Rose, Juanita, and Miguel were staring at him incredulously.

"We'd better hope Carmen doesn't bop in for a visit," Juanita said with a chuckle.

"She'd whack him over the head with her NOW manual," Grandma Rose said, also with a chuckle.

Magnus continued, despite their obvious scorn for his opinion on the subject. "What is there to learn from a teacher for all those years that cannot be learned from doing? Like managing a household or a farm. Fighting wars. Building ships. Forging weapons. Tell me, for it seems a mighty waste of time."

"You've got to be kidding!" Angela said at his side, even as she attempted to mop up the tide of red sauce that Lida kept slathering on her face, the high chair, the floor, and everywhere about. "Have you ever been to college?"

"I think not. Is it near the Rus lands? Or the Orphrey Islands? Methinks I heard of a place there by that name."

Once again, she exclaimed, "You've got to be kidding!"

Before he had a chance to react to Angela's comment, Torolf brought up an equally perplexing notion.

"Do you know what I learned today, Faðir ? In this vast country, they have only one all-king, which they call a press-a-dent. And, although there are many military troops—arm-he, knave-he, mare-eens—they all serve only one chieftain, Mist-her Bush."

"Is this true?" Magnus asked Angela.

She nodded, gazing upon him as if he'd grown two heads.

"And the laws here! Whoo-ee!" Torolf continued. "People cannot purchase an ale or wine till they are twenty-one years old, even though they may drive on the highways at sixteen and serve in the military at eighteen."

"Who told you such nonsense, Torolf?"

"Juan Franklin. One of the vineyard workers. He is a student at You-See-Ell-Aye." His son was sipping at his third glass of iced tea as he spoke, a delicious beverage served in this country with many of the meals.

"They can die for their chieftain, but they cannot have a cold mead at the end of the day? I cannot fathom such illogic."

He turned to Angela, who was still gazing at him as if he'd grown two heads… actually, three heads now.

"By the way, Juan invited me to a concert next week in Ell-Aye. Can I go?"

Magnus was tired of always having to ask what certain words meant. Njal, who sat next to Torolf, saved him from the embarrassment by piping in, "What is a concert, lamebrain?" Apparently lamebrain was a new word he had learned… probably from that Bart Simpson character.

"A performance put on by musicians, half-wit," Torolf answered, giving his brother a friendly jab in the shoulder. "In this case, No Doubt."

"No doubt what?" Magnus asked.

"No Doubt is the name of the musicians," Dagny explained.

"I saw them on Em-Tee-Vee."

"Are they the ones who sing 'Don't Speak'?" It was Kirsten speaking now.