Shadows in the Twilight (8 page)

Suddenly a dead fly falls down from the lampshade
and onto the map. It lands on a spot where the sea is
three thousand metres deep. Joel imagines the long
journey down to the bottom of the sea.

Then he rolls up the chart again.

The day passes very slowly.

And he still hasn't made up his mind whether to hide
behind the woodshed or not.

He gives himself an order to make up his mind no
later than two o'clock. Four hours to go. He can't wait
any longer than that.

The one-krona coin is on the kitchen table in front of
him. He'll be able to spin it if necessary and choose
heads or tails.

But three o'clock comes round, and four, and five,
and he still hasn't made up his mind. He eats the
pancakes that are almost bursting with cream and jam.
He shifts the furniture round in his room, and moves the
bed so that he'll be lying with his feet towards the
window and the blinds. He spends half an hour trying to
roll up the blind using only his foot.

It's dark outside already.

I won't bother, he thinks. I'll forget all about those letters.

But at seven o'clock he goes out even so. He's eaten
the last of the pancakes, and the jar of cloudberry jam is
empty.

A noisy car packed with teenagers thunders past. The
back seat is lit up by a red lamp. A fox's tail is attached
to the radio aerial. It's a Chevrolet, he notices. Black,
with shiny chrome. A portable gramophone on the shelf
in the back window is blaring out music. Elvis.

There's a noisy group of people outside the Grand
Hotel. Joel recognises Mr Waltin, editor of the local
newspaper that comes out once a week. Mr Waltin has
been on safari in Africa. Now he writes about boring
meetings and log jams in the river. But that man has
been to Africa. He has been under the same hot sun that
has also heated up Samuel . . .

Just past the Co-op is a green-painted block of flats.
Joel can hear voices arguing through an open window.
As he can't see any faces, it's the voices that are arguing.
They rise and fall and natter away at each other like
monkeys in a tree top.

Joel can see the face of the church clock, gleaming
yellow. Nearly half past seven.

He walks along the path that meanders between the river
and the vicarage. When he gets to the back of Mr Under's
house, he pauses and listens. There is a rustling sound
behind him. A cat? No, just a woodmouse. Then everything
is quiet again. The stars are glittering in a clear sky. He
climbs over the fence and gropes his way forward between
the rows of currant bushes. Now he can see the birdbath lit
up by a not very bright lamp. Nobody is there yet. Red
leaves are floating in the cloudy water of the birdbath. He
hurries over to the woodshed and tries to melt into the
shadow. He stumbles into a broken sledge and staggers
slightly from the impact. More rustling around his feet.
Lots of mice are making their way towards the houses.
That's what happens every autumn. And it's autumn now.
He can feel that the air he's breathing is cool.

The church clock in the distance chimes three times:
a quarter of an hour left.

Nobody will come, he thinks. Not the Caviar Man,
not Gertrud either.

He suddenly feels scared. What if they've realised
that he's the one who's written the letters! Gertrud might
never let him into her house again.

Can good deeds be turned into evil deeds?

He hears a crunching noise coming from the gravel
path leading from the main road. This isn't a mouse.
These are footsteps. There's somebody coming.

A black shadow glides past the birdbath.

Joel can't believe his eyes.

It's Miss Nederström! What's she doing here?

Joel gets ready to run away.

But Miss Nederström doesn't stop at the birdbath. She
keeps on walking and disappears into the shadows. Her
footsteps die away. Joel remembers that she has a sister
who lives on the other side of the river. Perhaps she's on
her way there, and has taken a short cut through the
horse dealer's garden?

He suppresses a giggle. Miss Nederström taking a
short cut! Perhaps she climbs over fences as well . . .

The clock strikes eight. Joel counts the chimes to be
certain . . . Seven, eight.

The red leaves are still floating in the birdbath.

Nobody. Nobody at all. Joel is the only one who has
turned up.

It's cold behind the woodshed. Mice are scuttling
around through the fallen leaves. There's one mouse in
particular that is scratting away at the other gable end of
the woodshed. Scratting and scratting away.

Then it coughs. It clears its throat.

It isn't a mouse at all. There's somebody standing
there, at the other gable end of the woodshed. Somebody
who's hiding, just like Joel is.

Joel closes his eyes, in the hope that it will make him
even more invisible. What he really wants to do is to run
away. But his fear paralyses him.

There is a crunching noise from the gravel path again.
The footsteps are coming from the side facing the river.
They are getting closer.

Then they fall silent. There is no coughing from the
other end of the woodshed either. Joel hardly dares to
breathe. Who is it, hiding behind the other end of the
woodshed?

Now the footsteps are approaching again. It's Gertrud.
She's moving very cautiously, as if she'd rather not be
there at all. Joel wants to shout out and run to greet her.
He wants to tell her that there's somebody behind the
other end of the woodshed. Then the pair of them will run
away, along the river bank, over the railway bridge, and
they won't stop until they are in Gertrud's kitchen. It'll be
warm and light there. Maybe Gertrud will fetch her
trombone and play a tune for him?

Joel can see Gertrud standing at the very edge of the
area illuminated by the lamp. He can see that she's put
on her very best clothes. The hole she has instead of a
nose is plugged with a silk handkerchief. Joel knows she
never uses that normally.

The church clock chimes once again. A quarter past
eight. Gertrud looks round.

The Caviar Man isn't going to turn up, Joel thinks.

Then the penny drops.

It's the Caviar Man hiding behind the woodshed, of
course. Spying on Gertrud.

Joel is furious. Even though he's the one who has set
it all up, he feels sorry for Gertrud. She's not somebody
people are allowed to spy on.

Now the rustling sound starts again. It's getting
nearer. And nearer. Joel crouches down next to the
broken sledge. He hardly dares to breathe.

A shadow passes in front of him.

How can you see a shadow when everything is black?

Then he hears a whisper.

'
That bloody noseless bitch.
'

That was all. The shadow vanishes silently in among
the currant bushes.

Gertrud is standing there motionless, waiting.

The clock chimes again. Twice. Half past eight.

Then she leaves. Joel can see that her head is bowed.
She's disappointed. Her footsteps sound sad. They fade
away, and she's gone.

Joel runs through the garden like a madman. He has
to get away from there. He runs all the way home. When
he fumbles for the door key under Samuel's old shoes in
the porch, he's so out of breath that he can hardly stand
up. His legs are shaking.

He switches on every light in the flat. He wants to get
rid of the darkness.

I've hurt Gertrud, he thinks.

How could it turn out like that?

He goes to the pantry and eats some more jam. He
shovels it into himself, spoonful after spoonful.

Then he goes to the kitchen and examines himself in
the cracked shaving mirror.

The Miracle Man, Joel Gustafson.

'What should I do now?' he asks his reflection.

What should I do now?

Then he thinks he can see Gertrud's face in the mirror.

She looks very sad.

All alone in her kitchen. On the other side of the
river. . .

Some days could be worse than others.

But Joel couldn't remember ever experiencing one
like this.

Absolutely everything went wrong.

It started in the morning as he was getting ready to
leave for school. He couldn't find one of his wellingtons.
He looked everywhere, but there was no sign of it.
How on earth can a wellington boot disappear? And why
only one? He conducted another search, and even
looked in the pantry. But no luck. He could see from the
kitchen clock that if he didn't find it within the next
minute, he would be late for school.

But no wellington. It had vanished without trace.

So he put on his shoes instead and started to tie the
laces. No problem with the left one, but the lace in the
right shoe snapped. No doubt a mouse had been nibbling
at it. He swore and tugged at the lace, cut it with a pair of
scissors and tried to thread it through the eyelets, but of
course they were too small. The kitchen clock seemed to
be going faster than before – the hands were racing round.

And needless to say, he was late for school. Otto sat
at his desk, smirking at him. Miss Nederström told him
to come out to the front and explain why he was late.

'My shoelace broke,' he said.

The class started laughing, and he had to admit that it
sounded silly. So silly that he started giggling himself.
Everybody was laughing apart from Miss Nederström.
Nothing made her more angry than laughter. Joel had
noted that down in his diary, on the page where he listed
all the strange things that grown-ups do. Getting angry
with people who laugh . . .

Joel tried to save the situation by explaining that one
of his wellingtons had vanished. But that only made
Miss Nederström even more annoyed.

'Go and sit down, Joel Gustafson,' she said. 'If you
carry on arriving late like this, I'll have to have a word
with your father.'

She's forgotten about the Miracle, Joel thought. If I'd
said I was late because of the Miracle, she wouldn't
have been angry, I'm sure.

The day had begun badly, but things were going to get
worse. Joel had forgotten all about the geography
homework they'd been set. That was his best subject,
and the one he found most fun. He was top of the class
in geography. Nobody knew as much about foreign
countries and oceans as he did. But today's lesson
wasn't about foreign countries: it was about Sweden.
Joel didn't know all that much about Sweden. He ought
to have read up on what was set, and consulted his atlas.
But he'd forgotten. He tried to look confident, as if he
knew the answer to all Miss Nederström's questions. He
nodded when one of his classmates answered a question
correctly. He hoped she would think that he knew all the
answers, as usual. But then she surprised him with a
question directed at him. Just as if she had been a hawk,
and he had been a dove.

'I didn't hear the question,' said Joel. He had heard, in
fact.
What is the town of Örebro famous for?
He didn't
know. He needed to think about it.

Miss Nederström repeated the question.

His classmates eyed him in anticipation. Joel could
feel Otto smirking behind his back.

He thought as hard as he could. Örebro? He couldn't
even remember where the place was. Örebro, Örebro . . .

He suddenly remembered one of the pictures in one of
the eight packs of pastilles he'd bought. Wasn't one of
the wrestlers from Örebro?

'Well,' said Miss Nederström. 'Are you going to
answer or not?'

'Örebro has one of Sweden's foremost wrestling
clubs,' said Joel.

The class exploded with laughter. Miss Nederström
turned white in the face with anger.

'You are insubordinate, Joel Gustafson,' she said. 'Of
course you know that Örebro is famous for its shoemaking
industry. You ought to have thought about that
this morning when your shoelace snapped. But you
don't want to answer the question. You just want to
annoy me, Joel Gustafson.'

'I didn't mean that at all,' said Joel.

Miss Nederström had marched up to his desk, She
grabbed hold of his ear and twisted it. Her fingers were like
talons. She twisted so hard that he had tears in his eyes.

'Let that be a lesson to you,' she said, going back to
her desk.

Joel was staring hard at his desk lid. There was
nothing so unpleasant as having your ear twisted. It was
worse than dreaming that you'd been burnt alive. Joel
was furious. But he was ashamed as well. And it hurt.

And Otto sat there behind him, smirking. Joel would
never be able to lift his gaze from the lid of his desk. He
would sit staring at the lid of his desk until he grew old
and fell onto the floor and died.

That's how it felt. Deep down Joel knew that it would
pass, and he would forget about it. Everything passed
eventually. But just now, that's not how it felt. Just now
he felt petrified. Like the petrified prince in a fairy story,
who would have to sit there staring at his desk lid for a
thousand years . . .

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
.'

Joel checks one of Samuel's sea charts to see how the
town of Hull is spelt. Joel knows for certain that Samuel
once bought a hat there. So it must be possible to buy a
tie there as well. There can't be Hat Towns and Tie
Towns, he thinks. And how could the Caviar Man know
if Gertrud had been to Hull or not? If that's a problem
after they are married, they'll have to sort it out by
themselves.

'I can't do everything,' Joel shouts into the empty
kitchen.

They'll have to do
something
themselves!

He puts the tie and the letter into the envelope.

When it comes to writing the name on the envelope,
he very nearly makes the same mistake again. Nearly
puts the Caviar Man instead of David.

But he writes: '
Mr David Lundberg
'.

That's that. Later on he will put the letters in the
appropriate letter boxes.