When the bell rang, he was the last one to leave the room. The others were standing outside the door, waiting for him. They were all smirking. Otto was at the front of them, smirking more than anybody else. Joel forced himself to stare right through his classmates. He’s not Joel any longer. He’s on his way to his own execution. General Custer hasn’t been able to save him. Joel has shot the drunken Lieutenant Hickock. It was self-defence. But there were no witnesses. Now Joel was going to be hanged. The gallows have already been raised on the hill outside the palisade. The drums are rolling. But Joel is icy calm. He stares right through all the people who are staring at him. He will die with dignity. He’s not the one who’s frightened. It’s the people watching him who are frightened. He walks resolutely up to the noose. The hangman wants to tie a cloth over his eyes. But Joel shakes his head. Then he smiles. He is calm. He will die calmly and with dignity. They will write songs about how calm he was. How brave. And then everybody will realise that he was innocent. General Custer will assemble the whole regiment and reveal the terrible truth — that Joel Gustafson was innocent. The fort will be renamed in his honour. Just now it’s called Fort Jameson. In future it will be known as Fort Joel. The hangman places the noose around Joel’s neck, and Joel gazes calmly over the heads of the assembled multitude. Then he falls, and is dead. But he can still see. The screaming masses gaping at his body dangling from the gallows. He can still see.
The bell rings and break is over. Joel still stares right through his classmates. He’ll carry on staring through them all day...
At last school is over. Joel takes a long route home in order to avoid his classmates. He walks by the side of the wall behind the churchyard. Then he notices that one of the big entrance doors to the church is half open. Without really knowing why, he walks up to the door and peers inside. It’s dark in the church. He sneaks through the door. He listens. Not a sound to be heard. He moves silently among the pews. Right at the front is the tall altarpiece. It’s as if he always used to sit there and look at it after school. He doesn’t like the painting. When he was younger he used to be frightened of it. It depicts Jesus on the point of flying up to heaven. He is hanging in the air, a metre or so above the ground. A Roman soldier is kneeling in front of Jesus. He’s wearing a helmet, but has dropped his sword. Jesus is all white, but the Roman soldier is dark. Behind them, a storm is whipping up. The clouds are pitch black.
Joel goes up to the altar rail. He’s never been as close to the picture as this before. It looks even bigger now. It’s growing. And the thunderstorm is approaching. The dark clouds are growing bigger and bigger.
The thunder resounds with a frightening roar. Joel gives a start, as if he’s been struck by lightning. The thundery roar echoes between the walls of the murky church.
Then it dawns on him that it isn’t thunder at all, but that somebody has started to play the organ at the back of the church, upstairs. He realises that somebody is practising, starting again from the beginning. It must be Oliver Organ rehearsing for the next service. The organist is a hunchback, and is so short-sighted that his glasses have treble lenses.
Joel sits at the end of a pew and listens. Oliver Organ keeps repeating sections over and over again. It’s powerful and beautiful and frightening. Joel looks down at the floor, and remembers that he has been in the Underworld. He has carried the whole of this church on his shoulders. He’s been so deep down that the roar of the organ couldn’t penetrate.
His mind is racing. That accursed town of Örebro. And the Caviar Man who disappointed Gertrud by not showing up.
I must do something else, Joel thinks. I can’t let it finish like this.
The Caviar Man must realise that Gertrud is the best wife he could possibly find. Where does it say that every person has to have a nose? You can still breathe without one. Oliver Organ is a hunchback, but he plays the organ better than anybody else. The Caviar Man must realise that the nose Gertrud doesn’t have makes her special...
Joel listens to the organ. This time Oliver Organ plays a whole piece through without stopping.
Music, Joel thinks. Kringström’s orchestra play at the dances held in the Community Centre on Saturday nights. That’s where the Caviar Man and Gertrud will meet. I’ll write some new letters. I’ll let Gertrud send him a present. It was a mistake to arrange the meeting by the birdbath in the horse dealer’s garden.
It’s good to think about Gertrud and the Caviar Man. When he does, he can no longer feel Miss Nederström’s talons twisting his ear. It’s good to think about something completely different.
He goes back to school and collects his bike. He’d forgotten about it.
How can you forget your bike? It’s just as peculiar as a wellington boot vanishing.
When he gets home, he finds the missing wellington straight away. It had been covered up by some firewood that Samuel had carried in last night. Joel picks the boot up and throws it at the wall. He’s really throwing it at Miss Nederström’s bottom.
The next time she twists my ear, I’ll do the same back to her.
I shall start a secret society devoted to doing away with all ear twisters.
Down with Ear Twisters!
He borrows some more letter-paper from Samuel’s room. When he settles down on his bed to write, he realises that he can’t remember if he had written to Gertrud or to the Caviar Man with his left hand. It takes him ages to remember which one it was.
This time he’ll write the letters without first looking through the books of poetry he’d borrowed from the library.
‘Meet me at the dance in the Community Centre on Saturday,’ he has the Caviar Man write to Gertrud. ‘I was prevented from coming the other day,’ he adds after a moment’s hesitation. He’s not sure how he should sign the letter. In the end he decides to write ‘Your beloved’.
He seals the envelope and writes ‘Gertrud’.
Her surname is Håkanson, but he doesn’t add that. The first name is enough.
Before he writes Gertrud’s letter to the Caviar Man, he needs to gather strength. He drinks some milk and makes two big sandwiches. The level of jam in the pots has sunk worryingly over the last few days. He has to make do with a few slices of sausage instead.
Then he goes to Samuel’s room and starts looking for a present for Gertrud to give to the Caviar Man. There must be something in Samuel’s wardrobe that he never uses and so will never miss.
Mummy Jenny’s dress is hanging in there.
Come back, Joel thinks. Come back and fetch your dress. Come back and tell us why you went away. Why we weren’t good enough, Samuel and me...
He lets go of the dress. Today is not a good day to see it hanging in Samuel’s wardrobe. To touch it, feel it.
He carries on searching. Eventually he finds a tie he has never seen Samuel wearing. It’s green. The Caviar Man can have it. Samuel will never notice that it’s not there.
Joel sits at the kitchen table and starts to make an envelope that will be big enough for both a letter and a tie. He opens out a small envelope to see how it’s put together. Then he cuts out and glues a bigger envelope from a sheet of brown wrapping paper. Bits of white glue stick to the paper and the edges are not quite straight, but it will have to do. Besides, he doesn’t have any more wrapping paper.
Then he writes the letter from Gertrud to the Caviar Man.
‘I’ll be at the Community Centre on Saturday night. I hope you like the tie. I bought it in Hull. Your beloved.’