When Joel woke up next morning he jumped out of bed and went to check if Samuel was still there. To make sure his father hadn’t woken up and sneaked out to find something else to drink. But to Joel’s surprise Samuel was sitting at the kitchen table. He was eating breakfast and had already made up his lunch box.
He looked guiltily at Joel.
“That wasn’t good, what happened yesterday,” he said. “But it won’t happen again.”
Joel knew that might be true, but there again, it might not. Samuel had said the same thing so many times before.
“What’s happened?” Joel asked.
“It’s all over between Sara and me,” said Samuel. “It came as a complete surprise.”
Joel didn’t ask any more. He could see that Samuel would start crying again if he did.
“You’d better get a move on or you’ll be late for school,” Samuel said, getting to his feet.
Joel watched him trudging off towards the forest, shoulders hunched.
Joel had no intention of going to school. He didn’t have the strength.
It was all this business with Sara. What had really happened? One day everything seemed to be fine. The next day Samuel came rolling home with his eyes red from all the firewater.
Joel made up his mind on the spot. He must find out the truth. He got dressed and left the house. There was always a risk that somebody would catch him. Realize that he was playing truant. But he would have to do what he’d made up his mind to do. It was too early for Sara to be at work in Ludde’s bar. She would still be at home.
When he knocked on the door of Sara’s flat, she answered the door almost immediately. She was in her dressing gown and had rollers in her hair.
She smiled in surprise when she saw Joel.
That made him angry. Samuel had sat at the kitchen table, crying. Sara stood there smiling. That wasn’t fair.
“Joel!” she said. “This is a surprise. Aren’t you at school?”
She let him in. Joel purposely didn’t wipe his feet and hoped he would bring in lots of dirt to make a mess of the floor.
He realized now just how much he disliked Sara. He could remember what it had been like right at the beginning, when Sara and Samuel first started seeing each other. That feeling came back now. What he wanted to do more than anything else was to hit her.
They went to her kitchen.
“I assume you’ve come to ask what happened,” she said.
At last she was looking serious.
Joel nodded, but he didn’t say anything.
“I like your dad very much,” she said. “But we don’t really suit each other.”
“It’s you who don’t suit him,” said Joel. “There’s nothing wrong with Samuel.”
“I didn’t say there was.”
“Then why don’t you suit each other?”
“Perhaps we don’t really want the same things.”
The only thing that’s good about Sara, Joel thought, is that she talks to me as if I were grown up.
Joel decided to speak his mind.
“You don’t know what’s best for you,” he said. “You’ll never find anybody better than Samuel.”
She wasn’t angry. She just sat looking at him.
“Did you know that Samuel wanted us to get married?” she asked.
Joel’s heart stopped beating. That couldn’t be true. But that was what she said. And Sara didn’t usually tell lies.
“I gather that you didn’t know,” she said after a while. “But when Samuel popped the question I needed to make up my mind. And I don’t want to get married. If there’s one who wants to get married and another who doesn’t, they can’t very well carry on seeing each other.”
Joel was stumped. Had Samuel really thought about marrying Sara? Without discussing it with him first?
Joel didn’t feel sorry for Samuel anymore. Now he was just angry. And disappointed. Samuel had gone behind his back. Maybe Samuel had even intended to run off with Sara and leave Joel behind.
“What are you thinking about?” Sara asked.
“Nothing,” said Joel. “I’d better be going now.”
“You mustn’t think that I find this easy,” she said as they stood in the hall.
She patted Joel on the cheek. Joel couldn’t make up his mind if he liked that, or if he ought to hit her.
He left. Looked around. No sign of any of the teachers who would see that he was playing truant.
It was cold. He missed the mitten that was hidden in Sonja Mattsson’s flat. He checked the church clock and saw that it was still early. A quarter past eight. He wondered if he ought to call on Gertrud. But he didn’t feel like talking to her either. So there was only one person left.
He started walking up the hill towards the hospital. Past there, beyond the edge of the little town, was Simon Windstorm’s house. As Joel had no intention of going to school, he could go there and ask if he could borrow the guitar.
Joel had met Simon Windstorm when he’d been looking for that remarkable dog that was heading for a distant star. Simon used to drive around at night like a lost soul in his old truck, when he couldn’t sleep.
Simon Windstorm wasn’t all there. Everybody knew that. He was so mad that he’d spent a long time locked away in a mental hospital. But Joel knew he wasn’t really mad. In fact it sometimes seemed to Joel that he was the only person who had realized that Simon was cleverer than anybody else around.
Simon Windstorm had taken Joel to Four Winds Lake. There he’d taught Joel how to listen in a way he’d never been able to do before.
The winds had voices. The breeze had a language of its own.
He thought about that as he passed by the hospital, and soon he’d left the last houses in the town behind him. He was walking fast because he was cold. Then he turned off the main road and followed the path to Simon’s cottage. The truck was parked outside. As usual the courtyard was full of junk, half buried in the snow. A hen that must have been suffering in the cold was wandering around, pecking away. Joel stood still and listened. There was a swishing sound in the trees. Smoke was belching out of the chimney. So Simon was at home. He was probably reading one of the many books he owned, rewriting the closing pages so that it all ended up as he wanted it to do.
Joel went up to the door and knocked. Simon never invited anybody to come in. So Joel opened it and entered. Simon was sitting by the open fire, wrapped up in an old bearskin. Two dogs were lying at his feet. They wagged their tails when they saw Joel. Simon screwed up his ageing eyes.
“I had a dream about you last night,” he said. “Joel Gustafson, the great conqueror. And now, here you are.”
Joel had noticed straightaway that the guitar was hanging on the wall. He went to take a closer look at it. It had four strings; two were missing. But there was no doubt that it could be played.
“I’ve come to ask if I can borrow your guitar,” Joel said. “I promise to look after it well.”
Simon put his book down on his knee.
“Of course you can borrow it,” he said. “Are you going to join the Salvation Army?”
“I’ve decided to become a rock singer.”
“Hm. I don’t really know what that is,” said Simon.
“A rock idol? Like Elvis?”
“I go in for old bearskins myself.”
It was obvious to Joel that Simon had no idea what a rock singer was. No doubt he’d never heard of Elvis either. Simon was old and peculiar. It wasn’t his fault that he didn’t know what was going on in the world.
Joel carefully unhooked the guitar from the wall.
“There’s an old case somewhere,” said Simon thoughtfully. “But I haven’t a clue where.”
“I’ll look for it,” said Joel. “I’ve got all day.”
That was just as well. It took many hours of searching before he found the moth-eaten old guitar case hidden away in one of Simon’s outhouses. When he went back in, he found Simon asleep in his chair. Joel didn’t want to wake hi
m up. He knew that Simon had spent all his life finding it difficult to fall asleep.
The dogs wagged their tails as Joel sneaked out through the front door.
They were standing guard over Simon’s sleep.
Joel spent the rest of the day at home, trying to work out how the guitar functioned. He plucked at the strings and pretended that he could play. But all the time he was thinking about Samuel. And about what Sara had said.
He prepared dinner in good time. He laid the table with a clean cloth, so that Samuel would feel he was eating just as elegantly as he would have done at Sara’s place. Samuel would regret ever having asked her to marry him.
Joel could see that something good might come out of what had happened. Maybe Samuel might start thinking now about his own best interests.
They could leave this godforsaken place. The sea was waiting for them.
Joel stood in the window, looking out for Samuel. It was dark already. He’d appear at any moment. But all the time Joel could feel a worry gnawing away inside him. Had his dad gone out drinking again? You never knew with Samuel.
What Joel really wanted to do was to call on Sonja Mattsson and collect his mitten. When she opened the door today, perhaps she’d be dressed in transparent veils?
Joel sighed. It wasn’t possible.
He’d always been his own mum. Now he would have to be dad to his own father.
He gazed out the window. Waited for Samuel.
Waited and waited.
And the food got cold.
— TWELVE —
Joel woke up with a start.
He had dozed off at the kitchen table while he’d been waiting for Samuel. He didn’t know what time it was. But he could hear footsteps on the stairs. It could only be Samuel. He stood up. Would Samuel be sober or not?
The door opened. Joel felt himself sinking down into his relief like getting into a warm bath. Samuel’s eyes were not red. He wasn’t swaying from side to side. He was late home, but he hadn’t been drinking.
“Are you still up?” he asked in surprise.
Joel wondered how stupid Samuel could get. Did he really think Joel would have gone to bed and fallen asleep before Samuel came home? He felt the need to make that clear.
“How could I possibly go to bed when you were out on a spree?”
“It depends what you mean by on a spree,” said Samuel. “I’ve been at Sara’s place, trying to talk some sense into her.”
Joel waited eagerly for what came next, but Samuel didn’t say anything more. Joel wondered, a bit uncomfortably, if Sara had said anything about his going there as well. He didn’t know how Samuel would react. He didn’t usually like it if anybody stuck their nose into his business. That was one of the things he and Joel had in common.
Samuel hung up his jacket and kicked off his boots.
“What time is it?” Joel wondered.
“It must be turned midnight,” said Samuel. “We’d both better get to bed if we’re going to be able to cope with tomorrow.”
Samuel seemed less miserable than yesterday.
“How did it go?” Joel asked tentatively.
Samuel shrugged.
“She thinks we’re not suitable for each other,” he said. “Maybe she’s right. But I don’t understand why.”
Joel said nothing. Sara had evidently not mentioned that he’d been to see her. If she had, Samuel would have said so by now. Joel had got away with it.
“We didn’t sit shouting at each other,” said Samuel. “I had dinner, and we spoke calmly and sensibly. But I suppose that’s that. We’re on our own again, you and me.”
That’s how it’s been all the time, Joel thought. You’ve had Sara to go home to. I haven’t.
Samuel yawned.
“We can talk more about this tomorrow,” he said. “We’d better get to bed now. We can have the food you’ve prepared for tomorrow’s dinner.”
They carried the pots and pans to the pantry; then Joel had a quick wash and snuggled down into bed.
Anyway, it was a relief. That Samuel wasn’t drunk again.
There was nothing worse than that. Nothing at all.
When Joel arrived at school the next day he had a nasty surprise. Somebody had seen him in the street the previous day. Miss Nederström called him out to the front after they’d sung the morning hymn.
“Why weren’t you at school yesterday?” she asked sternly.
“I was ill,” said Joel.
She turned white in the face with anger.
“How dare you stand there telling me barefaced lies?” she thundered. “The headmaster saw you at the kiosk yesterday morning.”
Joel wondered whether to say he’d been to the doctor’s, but he didn’t. It would be too easy to check that. So he said nothing, just stared down at the floor. Behind him the rest of the class was sitting in tense silence. He couldn’t see them, but he knew that was the case. And that Otto would be smirking.
“You were playing truant,” said Miss Nederström. “And it’s not the first time.”
Joel continued staring at the floor.
“Have you nothing to say?”
What could he say? Nobody would understand. Least of all Miss Nederström. He continued to say nothing.
“You can stay in after school today,” said Miss Nederström. “Go and sit down.”
Joel walked back to his desk. He tried to avoid looking at Otto. He couldn’t bear the thought of seeing that smirk of his.
Still, he was glad he’d remembered to bring the Christmas magazine catalog. He wondered how much Otto would demand for returning it a day late.
He found out during the first break. Otto came storming towards him.
“I want three kronor more,” he said. “You were supposed to return the catalog yesterday.”
Joel handed it over.
“I sold a magazine to my dad’s cousin,” he said. “And I was ill.”
Otto looked as if he was going to hit him.
“You were playing truant,” he said. “You weren’t ill. And I want three kronor.”
Something snapped inside Joel. All that business with Samuel had been too much for him. And all the other things he was worrying about.
He hurled himself at Otto, as if he were trying to force open a door that had stuck. They both fell to the ground. Immediately a ring of spectators formed round them. And then they started fighting. Otto was the stronger, but Joel was so furious that he found himself with strength he didn’t really possess.
They only stopped fighting when the headmaster and Miss Nederström managed to separate them.
Both Joel and Otto received a box on the ear from the headmaster. It was a hard blow and really hurt.
The headmaster glared at Joel.
“Not only do you play truant,” he said, “but when you come back to school you start fighting.”
“He started it,” said Otto.
Joel said nothing. He didn’t feel angry anymore. He just felt tired now.
What he would really have liked to do was to go away. Leave school behind and never come back.
But the outcome was that both Joel and Otto had to stay in after school. Otto for an hour, Joel for two. As they were both bad at handwriting, they had to spend the time practicing.
Otto left after an hour.
Miss Nederström sat at her desk reading a magazine. And Joel practiced his writing. But he couldn’t make the letters look neat.
Eventually she looked at the clock and closed her magazine.
“You can go now,” she said. “But come here first.”
Joel did as he was told.
“I don’t think you would play truant unless there was a reason,” she said. “Are you still going to refuse to tell me why you did it?”
He would have liked to. Explain what he felt like when Samuel came home drunk. But he said nothing. He couldn’t.
Miss Nederström sighed and shook her head.
“I can’t make you out,” she said. “But you
can go now.”
Joel went. He ought really to have collected the guitar and gone to Kringström’s flat. But he didn’t feel up to it. He was tired and miserable. He felt lonely and he felt worn out. Life was hard and his boots were too small for him. He went down to the river and walked along the path that followed the riverbank. Paused by the rocks where he used to play a lot a few years back. He hardly ever went there nowadays. He suddenly felt a desire to go back to that time. Life had been hard when he was eleven as well, but in a different way.
It wasn’t as easy to enter a dreamworld now. If he stood staring into the river now he didn’t see any crocodiles. Only logs floating down to the sawmill at the river mouth.
That was in fact the most difficult bit. Not being able to see crocodiles anymore. Only logs.
When he got home he started warming up the food he’d prepared yesterday. As he did so, he made up his mind to go round to Sonja Mattsson’s that evening and collect his mitten.
He had another worry as well. How would he be able to lie out in the open and toughen himself up if Samuel stopped spending the night at Sara’s every Wednesday? That was a problem. Perhaps Samuel would find some body else? In any case, there were three more waitresses at Ludde’s bar.
Samuel came home and he was sober. They had dinner.
“How did it go at school today?” he asked.
“We had a lot of handwriting practice,” said Joel.
Samuel didn’t normally ask more than one question about school. He didn’t today either. And Joel was grateful for that.
When Joel started getting ready to go out, Samuel looked up from his newspaper.
“You didn’t get much sleep last night,” he said. “You must go to bed early tonight.”
“I’m only going to fetch a mitten I lost the other day.”
“Where?”
“I left it behind at somebody’s house.”
“Whose?”
“A friend’s.”
Samuel nodded.
“In case I’m asleep when you come home, I’d better say good night now.”
“I won’t be late.”
When Joel started walking down the street and his boots began chafing against his ankles, he tried to imagine that he was walking along a beach. With palm trees. And it was warm. He searched through his mind for the shipwrecked Captain Joel Gustafson. But he couldn’t find him.