Because the apartment was so small and easy to keep clean and tidy, Bonnie had plenty of time to chat with him when she was finished. He was always happy to tell her about his life and experiences. He had driven a car, an old Lada 1500 S, until he was well over ninety, and he had never been ill. When he was sixteen, he went to sea as a deck boy on the Flying Dutchman. There was a painting of the ship over the sideboard. A very amateur piece, but the details were no doubt correct. Lovely boat, Bonnie said when he got to that part of his story. Then Jørgen told her about the sea serpent he claimed to have seen in the fjord several times, with its glowing red eyes and shark-like fins. This was followed by the story of the wolf. A poor maid had given birth to a daughter out of wedlock, and they lived in a small hut in the forest far from any neighbors. She frequently trudged down to the nearest farms, wearing a long skirt that covered her skinny legs and bare feet. And as a rule she got work, so they managed to survive by eating berries, herring, and bread.
Jørgen paused here — as he always did — because he was getting close to the climax. Bonnie pretended to hold her breath, even though she’d heard the story many times before. Jørgen had his eye on her. He wanted to make sure she was listening.
One summer day when it was very warm, he said, she had filled a tub of water and put it out on the grass. She put the little girl in the water to cool off and went back into the house to make some food. As she stood in the kitchen, she heard the little girl scream. She ran out of the house to see what was wrong. To her horror, she saw that a great wolf had come sneaking out of the forest and pulled the little girl from the tub and was eating her.
“Oh my goodness,” Bonnie said, “that’s terrible!”
“Isn’t it?” Jørgen agreed. “The mother lost her mind and was never the same again,” he concluded. He twiddled his thumbs in his lap, very pleased with his story. He never tired of telling it to anyone who would listen. Bonnie always shuddered in a special way. Jørgen’s words conjured up gruesome images in her mind, and even though she doubted that the story was true, it was still a glimpse into another time. She thanked him for his thrilling tale.
“You’re so good at telling stories. I can picture it all so clearly.”
She got up and went over to the countertop, where he had left a modest shopping list for her. She drove to the grocery store and bought milk, bread, and cheese. She drove back, stopped at the mailbox, and took the newspaper and shopping into the house and put the milk in the fridge.
When she was finished for the day, she went out to the car and called Britt. She wanted to thank her for such a lovely evening and say that all was well. She told her about the episode with the car and said that she had to go home now and clear the snow. She picked Simon up from daycare, put on his winter clothes, exchanged a few words with Kaja, and then drove home to Blåkollen. She parked on the road, not daring to drive up to the house. She rolled up the rag rugs and took them back into the hall.
“Well, they’ve certainly been aired now,” she said to Simon. “You go into your jungle and I’ll come as soon as I’m done.”
Clearing snow was never fun, but fortunately they only had a short driveway. It had never crossed her mind to buy a small snowblower. Not that she could afford one anyway — it was out of the question. When she had finished, she leaned the shovel against the wall and went inside. They sat on the sofa and read Where the Wild Things Are. As Simon was about to go to bed, the doorbell rang. This alarmed Bonnie because it was so seldom that anyone came. If it was a salesman, she’d have to turn him away. She put the book down on the table and went to open the door. To her astonishment, she found Britt standing on the front step. She was holding something heavy.
Bonnie stood with her mouth open. “What on earth have you got there?”
“I talked to Jens,” Britt said. “And he suggested we buy you a set of snow chains. Here you are. Now you won’t get stuck anymore.”
14
The walks with Shiba got shorter and shorter, and every time Eddie went to the mailbox he was worried that he might bump into Ansgar. He would always make some sarcastic remark and Eddie was painfully aware that people talked about him. The slow, fat boy who lived with his mom. Shiba went no farther than around the corner, and then she squatted on the snow to do what was expected of her. He couldn’t be bothered to pick up after her. He never did, and they gossiped about that too. He walked along the road hatching plans. He was always thinking about his dead father; in fact, he was always thinking about death, because it was such a great mystery to him. That one day all his thoughts would disappear, his body would be cold and white, and he would be buried in the ground. And that all the creepy-crawlies that lived underground would eat him. But clairvoyants can contact the dead, he thought. He decided that he would find one of those clairvoyants; he’d seen them on the television. He’d also heard stories about the dead visiting their nearest and dearest in the form of a voice or a gray light or a movement in the room. He hadn’t heard anything from his dad, which disappointed him. It was as though he’d meant nothing to him because he’d never bothered to show himself. Not even once.
“How was she?” Mass asked when he got back. She was worried about the dog.
“Not good,” Eddie replied. He was standing in the hall with his jacket on. His heavy boots were wet with snow. Mass had said he should get them waterproofed.
“I have to borrow the car,” he said with force.
Mass looked at her son, alarmed. He practically never asked for the car. He didn’t like driving; he had managed to pass his test, despite some hesitation, on the fourth attempt after fifty hours of driving lessons. And now he wanted to go out in the car, on the icy roads. Heavens above. She gave him the keys somewhat reluctantly and looked at him solemnly.
“You will take it easy now, won’t you?” she said. “Where are you going? Are you just going for a drive?”
“I’m going to the church,” Eddie declared. “Up at Haugane. I like going there.”
Mass couldn’t imagine what the point of that was, but then her son was a riddle that she only partially understood. “Don’t be too long. And only use the low gears.”
He slammed the door shut and struggled with the gate, which was heavy and creaked at the hinges. Mass had folded the side mirrors in as she always did to get more room, as the space was tight. He put the car into gear and reversed out. Before he turned onto the road, he looked at the two side mirrors. He couldn’t remember how to open them again, it was so long since he had last driven. He thought it was a button, maybe between the seats. After a bit of trial and error, he managed. He put on the left blinker and pulled out onto the road. Mass had had the snow tires put on, so he felt safe. Still he drove no faster than fifty and he was in control. It took him twenty minutes to get there. As he drove, he thought about his father, Anders, and how nice it would be if he were buried at Haugane. Then he could go to the grave every week with flowers and candles.
He parked outside the gate and sat for a while, staring out through the windshield. The church was quite small, a pretty whitewashed color with a modest spire. On the other side of the square stood a chapel with arched windows, and behind that, the parsonage with two large outbuildings and a big barn. The priest, Oscar Berg, whom he sometimes met in the store, lived in the parsonage, and was always friendly. He even remembered Shiba and always said to say hello to his mother. Eddie left the keys in the ignition. He had parked beside a Toyota, which he thought was familiar. On the wall beside the gate, he saw a green metal sign, “Commonwealth War Graves.” He went through the heavy wrought-iron gate and straight over to the ten military graves by the chapel. They were all pilots. He had often stood by their graves because there was something dramatic about their demise. He studied the white stones, each decorated with an eagle in flight and surrounded by a circle with a crown, and some words he couldn’t understand.