'Morning, sweetheart.'
He listened inside himself for a reply, but none came. That was OK too. He thought he ought to be able to feel something, to be able to find a place inside himself that was Maja, but he had no intention of going into that right now. Things were OK as they were, with Bamse and everything. She was there.
He smiled. 'Do you remember this?' He cleared his throat and silently sang Maja's version of the Bamse song:
'Hey there Bamse, strongest hear of all
But oh, how he loves to fight!
Thunder honey, Grandma's thunder honey
That's what he eats when it's time to start a fight.'
She had really loved to play with songs and expressions, with language. Above all she liked making things…well, worse. It would often start with a mispronunciation, which she would then develop. A favourite had been to exchange the word 'Christmas' for 'Christmess'. They gave each other Christmess presents, brought in the Christmess tree and before Christmas they sat making different kinds of Christmess puzzles. Then Father Christmess came.
Pain shot through Anders' midriff and he frowned. He remembered how she had sat there gabbling a list of different things that were 'messy'. Christmess music and the Christmessy atmosphere. The verse she had added to 'I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus', which involved Daddy coming in and killing Santa Claus. Father Christmess.
I can't go on like this.
Anders rolled over quickly and slipped out of bed, half-crouching as he ran to the toilet where he achieved what was probably a world record in pissing for the longest time. His body felt purified, capable, ready for anything. He flushed the toilet and Elin came into his mind. Her hair floating outwards around her head as she sank down…
No!
He rinsed his face with cold water and slaked his thirst. He wouldn't think about that. Ever. It was over, it was gone, it belonged in the past. It was as if he had been given the gift of a new body and a new brain this morning. He had no intention of using them to wade around in the sludgy mess of things that couldn't be altered. He'd done enough of that.
He was famished, and stood by the fridge wolfing down three pieces of crispbread smothered in cheese spread while the water trickled through the coffee machine. He chewed and chewed, hearing the crunch inside his head as he gazed out of the window and noticed that the bay was full of gulls. He was not afraid.
I am not afraid.
He munched the last of the crispbread and studied the movements of the gulls as they drifted with the currents, taking off and blinking as they were caught by the light of the low-lying sun, then drifting back down towards the surface again.
I am not afraid.
He had been walking around more or less in a state of horror and fear for so long that it had become part of his nature. Now it was gone. There was only the bay, the blue sky, the gulls and his own body, unafraid, seeing everything in the autumn light.
It was wonderful.
He turned away from the window and caught sight of the bead tile. His eyes opened wide and he went across to it, ran his hand over the smooth surface, which was now larger than the knobbly area. Beads had been added, many beads had been added-
I have added the heads.
– while he was asleep. Lots and lots of blue beads had been added, and the large white patch in the middle was finished, surrounded by blue, and had been joined by a smaller white patch diagonally up to the left.
As he stood contemplating the incomprehensible picture an idea began to take shape, but before he managed to catch it he spotted the note.
Anna-Greta and I are getting married in Nåten on Sunday at two o'clock. We would very much like you to be there. Simon.
Under the signature was a postscript, and when Anders read it he slapped his forehead and shouted, 'Idiot! It's so obvious!' He studied the bead tile again and couldn't understand why he hadn't seen it straight away.
P.S. Isn't it a maritime chart?
The blue was the sea, the white patch in the middle was Domarö, and the smaller white patch was Gåvasten. It was clumsily executed and light and dark were transposed in comparison to a normal maritime chart, but he was still annoyed that he hadn't spotted it long ago, as soon as the contours of Domarö began to form.
It was a revelation, along the lines of: at last the pieces fell into place, the penny dropped, the veil was swept aside. The discovery made Anders feel quite intoxicated, and he clapped his hands in pure delight, but stopped in the middle of a clap. He stared at the beads.
It's a maritime chart. Right. So?
What he had in front of him was a rudimentary chart showing
Domarö, Kattholmen and Gåvasten, with Ledinge gradually emerging. So?
It looked just like an ordinary chart, but executed less skilfully. An ordinary chart that he already had on the bookshelf. What was he supposed to do with this one? What could it tell him that he didn't already know?
'Why are you doing this? Why have you made this…messy chart?'
He was suddenly furious, and was seized by a powerful urge to throw the whole fucking thing away, had even reached out for the tile with both hands before he managed to stop himself. He looked at his hands, got hold of one hand with the other and shook it.
One of his own plays on words popped into his head. It hadn't gone down very well with Maja, but he'd thought it was funny. Swapping the word 'hand' for 'hound' in different expressions. Holding someone by the hound. Give me your hound, I am your right hound. And then there was his favourite. He looked at his hands and said it out loud, 'One hound doesn't know what the other is doing.'
That's it.
He sat down heavily on a kitchen chair. The sudden rage had not been his, it was Maja who could be so unreasonably angry over little things. Like her socks the day she disappeared. She had just got angry with the chart, through him. Just as she had been so happy when she saw that it was a chart showing the sea and the islands.
No. Yes.
He leaned over the bead tile again. If she was the one who had made the chart, then she couldn't be delighted at the discovery that it was a chart. And besides…how on earth could Maja build a maritime chart with beads? He had probably shown her the chart at some point when they were out in the boat, but there was no possibility that she would be able to make an…image of it.
He was the only one who could do that. Therefore, he was the one who had made the chart without knowing, and she was the one who had…
He put his head in his hands.
One hound, doesn't know what the other is doing.
If she wanted to communicate with him, why do it in this complex, time-consuming way? Why not just write or say what needed to be said?
Because one hound doesn't know what the other is doing.
And besides…
Anders took a deep breath and held it, listened inside himself and outside. There was nothing there. Nobody was watching him, nobody was after him. For the moment. But they did exist.
You can't he here either, little Maja. We'll take you too, in time.
It was a question of being careful. If you showed yourself too much, they would spot you. That was what had happened to Elin. Perhaps. So you had to be careful. Take a little bit at a time and avoid discovery.
Maja had been good at hide and seek. Almost too good. She could stay hidden for a long, long time if she found a good hiding place. She wouldn't even come out when they gave up and shouted to her. They always had to find her.