by Maria Parr
Lena just waved her hand. “I’m sorry too, and all that stuff.”
I smiled slightly, but I felt I wasn’t finished. It wasn’t that simple.
“It’s just that I like to be with other people too sometimes,” I began.
Lena sighed. “Well, obviously. You just don’t get it, do you?”
Clearly not, I thought, surprised to see that she was already managing to get on my nerves again.
“I don’t want to spend all my time with you either,” she said. “Smoking haddocks, that would be quite a burden,” she added.
Oh, she was so . . . ! I started to prepare my fishing line. We didn’t say anything for a long while, and then it was Lena who took a deep breath.
“The thing is, Trille, it must be possible to fall in love without turning into a blinking idiot while you’re at it.”
“Fall in love?” I said. “I’m not in love.”
“Just an idiot?”
“Huh?”
“Who knows, maybe I could even have helped you.”
“Helped me?”
“Yes. Can’t you see how hopeless it is to go on playing the piano when you hate it? Or to sit at the ferry landing like a nitwit? For cod’s sake. Do you think that’s going to entice any ladies?”
“But . . .”
“If Birgit has any sense in that head of hers — and we may very well wonder if she does, actually — then she’ll see that you’re the best one of all.”
“Huh?”
Lena didn’t say any more for a while. She brushed some dirt off her overalls and sighed.
“I also think it would be good for your mental health if you took up playing the drums,” she said in conclusion.
“You’re deranged,” I said.
“Thanks, you too,” Lena grumbled, giving me one of her smiles that would make the grayest of rocks glitter.
I felt something melt inside me, and I started laughing. Lena sat there for a while, looking at me with a cheery glint in her eye, and then she broke down too. We laughed and laughed. We almost laughed our way to Davy Jones’s locker, both of us.
When we’d finally calmed down, we cast our lines and started fishing. The mackerel had arrived now, and it wasn’t long before the lines were twitching and thrashing around on both sides of the boat.
After we’d gotten back from Kobbholmen the day before, I’d been down to the water all by myself. Nets and fishing lines were hung throughout the boat shed in meticulous order. None of them had been in the water since Grandpa hurt his hand. Up in the boat shed loft, I’d found the box with the damaged halibut line in it. I’d taken it down, lit the lamp above Grandpa’s stool, and sat there, unraveling and mending it until late in the evening. Now it was in the wooden box, ready to be used. The only thing missing was some decent bait.
Lena and I sorted that out. The tub between us was soon full of mackerel. Enough to bait plenty of lines.
“Do you think we’ll get Grandpa out line fishing next weekend?” I asked.
Lena shrugged and suddenly looked serious.
“After all, we finally got him back at sea yesterday, didn’t we?” I said, feeling a little uncertain.
Lena glanced at me.
“What is it?” I eventually asked.
“I think maybe Lars is worried he won’t manage all this fishing anymore, Trille, what with his hand and everything,” Lena said. “He’s starting to get old, you know,” she added.
It felt like a wall had crumbled inside me. Grandpa didn’t have anything to be worried about, did he? Images of the giant halibut and all the blood flickered past my eyes. I looked back to shore. Grandpa was up in the farmyard. He was pulling Inger’s stroller back and forth with his good arm while looking out at Lena and me.
I was thinking about maybe going to the game this afternoon,” I said to Lena when we’d moored the boat and sorted out the fish.
The boys from our class were playing their first game of the summer season. Kai-Tommy had been talking about it for ages. They were playing against the team from town, which had won the league by a mile the year before. But the boys at school had been training hard all winter. Kai-Tommy thought they were going to win. The league title too! I knew that Birgit would be there watching.
“Sounds good,” said Lena, grabbing hold of her side of the fish tub. “But I’ve got practice to go to.”
And so it was. Lena sped off on her bike, and I went to the game. I watched her as she cycled away, feeling a warmth in my chest that hadn’t been there for a long time. Lena Lid, my best friend and neighbor. There wasn’t another person in the world like her.
When I arrived at the field, I saw Axel and Ellisiv sitting in the stands, so I went and joined them.
“Now I can safely say that I’ve got a girlfriend,” said Axel.
Ellisiv rolled her eyes and made space for me. Down on the field, my classmates ran back and forth as they warmed up. I looked around anxiously for Birgit. It took me a while to spot her sitting alone at the far end of the stands.
She looked up in surprise when I reached her.
“Hi, Trille! Are you feeling better?”
“Huh? Oh, you mean . . . Yes, it passed quickly. Was it a good party?”
Birgit nodded and looked out across the field. Was she watching Kai-Tommy?
“It was a bit sad too.”
“Sad?”
“Yes, we’re going back home to Amsterdam soon, you know.”
She said she’d known the whole time that they were only here for a year, but she’d thought it would be all right.
“I remembered what it felt like leaving Keisha in Kenya, so I’d really decided not to make such good friends here.”
I sat down.
“It’s very difficult not to grow fond of people,” she said. “Do you know what I mean?”
I nodded. Who understood that better than me? I was about to say something when a shadow fell over us.
It was Kai-Tommy, slightly out of breath, with his dark bangs and bright-blue uniform.
“Hi, so good you made it,” he said to Birgit.
He looked at me nervously, and it suddenly dawned on me that Kai-Tommy felt just as worked up seeing me talking with Birgit as I did when he talked with her.
“Where did you leave Lena, then?” he asked me.
“She’s practicing in town.”
He sighed in annoyance. “She never gives up. Somebody should tell her that she hasn’t exactly got a goalkeeper’s body, the skinny sardine that she is.”
I was about to say something back, but I couldn’t be bothered. It was better just to leave it.
“Talk to you later, then!” he said, running off.
“Do you like Kai-Tommy, really?” I blurted out. I needed to know.
Birgit looked at me in confusion. “Yes, quite a lot.”
“But . . .” I flung out my arms, baffled.
“He’s nice deep down, Trille.”
It had to be pretty deep down, I thought.
“I like you a lot too, you know,” she added.
A warm feeling ran through my body. “Who do you like best, then?” I tried to make it sound like a silly question.
Birgit laughed. She looked at the boys, who’d formed two huddles out on the field. Then she became serious.
“Well, probably Keisha,” she said quietly, with a lopsided smile.
I didn’t know what else to say. Birgit was going to leave soon. The thought was unbearable, but it was good to sit there with her, for the moment.
“I’ll miss you,” I finally managed to say.
“I’ll miss you too, Trille.”
And then the game started.
The game turned out to be one nobody would forget in a hurry. The red team from town put the pressure on from the start, but our local team stayed solid at the back, blocking all their attacks. It was clear that a lot had changed over the winter. Ivar obviously knew what he was doing, whatever Lena thought about him.
It was no more than a cou
ple of minutes into the game when Andreas made a long pass to Abdulahi, who brought the ball down and shot it at the other team’s goal. The goalie from town barely managed to throw himself down in time and smack the ball away.
Then it was the team from town on the offensive. Halvor punched the ball just off the field, and a corner was awarded. He stopped the ball again, and reluctantly I had to admit that he was starting to turn into a good keeper. I was seriously impressed with my classmates. They managed to get past midfield time after time. The red team’s defense had their work cut out for them stopping the attacks. Several times it was only their goalie, dressed in black, who saved them from going a goal down.
Birgit was on her feet. “Come on!” she shouted.
When the ball went off for a throw-in, I cast my eyes over the spectators. Minda and Magnus and their friends were sitting at the top of the stands. Ellisiv and Axel were both on their feet, cheering. There were people I knew all the way along the touchline. And what in heaven’s name? Ylva! She was standing down by the other team’s corner post, looking totally confused. I sighed in despair. This was so typical of her! After the previous day’s drama, she’d probably decided that she was finally going to start coming to Lena’s games but hadn’t remembered that Lena had changed teams! Was it possible? I slapped my forehead.
The goalie from town, in his black shirt, put the ball down at the edge of the goal area, took aim, and kicked it in a precise arc. The ball crossed the field and landed smack bang at the feet of an unmarked player just over the center line. Before we knew it, the boy in red had fended off two defenders and shot the ball into the back of the net. We were down one–nil!
The audience sighed and booed. The away team clapped, of course, but I could hear one person above all the rest, screaming with joy down by the corner post. It was Ylva. She was cheering on the wrong team! Lena would’ve had a fit.
“Sorry, I’ll be back in a bit,” I said to Birgit, hurrying down to the touchline. I couldn’t let Ylva carry on making a fool of herself like that!
I’d almost reached Ylva when I looked again at the little goalie from town in his black shirt. He was standing there calmly, a short distance out into the penalty box, waiting for the game to get started again. He had his cap pulled down low, as he was facing straight into the sun. Every now and then he pointed and shouted something to the red team’s defenders, with a slightly delicate but determined voice. I opened my mouth and then closed it again. No . . . it couldn’t be!
The game was back on, and the little goalie bobbed up and down on his toes, full of concentration. He moved to the side, keeping an eagle eye on the ball. Then he brought one of his gloves up to his mouth and yelled at two of the players in red:
“Hello! Time to wake up and smell the waffles over there! Keep an eye on number ten!”
I practically collapsed there and then.
Lena!
And what happened next was something I’ll never forget. While I was still standing there, slightly in shock, the player in the blue number-ten shirt, Kai-Tommy, stole the ball from the attacking town side. He turned with it and ran. Two red players behind him tried to catch up, but they were too slow. Kai-Tommy was storming forward at a furious speed. It was him against the keeper.
The player in black, with the cap on her head, moved back closer and closer to the goal. Then, just when everybody was sure it was about to turn one–all, the little sardine suddenly started to run forward.
“Come on!” Ylva shouted behind me.
With great precision, Lena fearlessly threw herself down onto the gravel just inside the penalty area, grabbing the ball from under the feet of the lone striker. Kai-Tommy fell forward, and Lena rolled a couple of times as she held the ball tightly, as if it were a precious egg. It was a textbook tackle. And it was pretty impressively done.
An enraged Kai-Tommy got back on his feet. He was about to yell something when he saw the same thing I’d seen. If only I could describe the look on his face. It was like he’d been run over by a UFO.
“So good to get to play at the right level now and then,” Lena said dryly, courteously doffing her cap.
Then she turned back to the game as if nothing had happened.
The team from town completely dominated the rest of the game and took three well-deserved points home with them on the ferry. But the player of the game stayed behind, waving at them as they left.
People talked about that game for a long time afterward. When they realized what had happened — that Ivar and the boys had more or less forced Lena off their team — many were angry. But Lena wasn’t angry anymore. Changing teams was one of the best things that had ever happened to her. She liked playing with the girls, and since the coach in town had quickly spotted her talent, she was constantly being asked if the boys’ team could borrow her too.
But she didn’t always say yes.
“I can’t play soccer every day,” she explained. “I’ve got quite a lot to be getting on with at home too, after all.”
I knew she was thinking about that raft.
I’ve ordered an emergency stop button for the winch,” Dad said softly as he cut a couple of thick slices of bread.
“Oh,” I said.
We were eating breakfast at the kitchen counter. It was Saturday, and the sun was shining. The boat traffic was in full swing out on the fjord, but through the window I could see Grandpa sitting marooned at the table in the yard, drinking his coffee.
Terrible images of the halibut and the blood flew through my head again. Was it the same for Grandpa? I peered at him out in the yard. He looked so lonely. I suddenly realized it was even worse for him.
Dad chewed his bread next to me. “We’ve got to get the old man out fishing again, Trille. We can’t go on like this.”
“Is that Thunderclap Kåre out off the headland?” I asked, plonking myself down next to Grandpa.
He nodded, turning his coffee cup round and round in his good hand. Grandpa had always made fun of Thunderclap Kåre for not going out to catch the big fish. Now we could clearly see him hauling up a load of small coalfish.
“Do you know that I once struck him down?” Grandpa said.
“You hit Thunderclap Kåre? Why?”
“He was dancing with Inger.” Grandpa shook his head and chuckled. “I was seventeen and just about to go to sea for the first time.”
He squinted at Thunderclap Kåre’s boat. “It’s the most foolish thing I’ve ever done in my life.”
“Were you and Granny already boyfriend and girlfriend when you were seventeen?” I asked, surprised.
“No, we were friends. But that summer, she suddenly came along one day to tell me that she was going to miss me when I left. She even said that she’d gladly wait for me.”
Grandpa smiled.
“And what did I do, the idiot that I am? I cheekily turned her down, just like I’d turned down all the others. I didn’t want any girl waiting at home for me. I wanted to be footloose and fancy-free.”
But the day before Grandpa was due to leave, something happened. There was a dock dance where the ferry landing is now, Grandpa told me. All the young people in the area were gathered there that summer’s evening. When he arrived, he saw Inger among all the others. And as if by magic, it dawned on him what he’d done. Holy mackerel, she was the one he really liked!
“And so you hit him?” I asked, shocked.
“You bet I did.”
I realized it had been a close call: my grandparents almost hadn’t gotten together at all. Granny had been furious. Not only had Grandpa jilted her and made her unhappier than she’d ever been before, he then had the nerve to assault a totally innocent guy who actually liked her. Could anybody be more of a fool? Grandpa had to sail off to Baltimore with a broken heart and a guilty conscience.
I glanced in astonishment at my calm and peaceful grandfather.
“I never would’ve thought you could punch somebody,” I said.
“Oh?” He laughed. “I’m s
o old now that I know we all do foolish things. It doesn’t matter that much, really.”
He peered out at Thunderclap Kåre again. “What matters is what we do afterward.”
From the corner of my eye, I saw Lena come out onto her doorstep with her soccer ball in her hands. Grandpa spotted her too.
“This world’s so well put together, Trille, that most things we mess up can be sorted out again. But sometimes it’s a tough job,” he added.
Thunderclap Kåre got his outboard motor started and chugged back toward the shore. Lena was already down in the field with her ball.
“Grandpa, today we’re going line fishing,” I said, making it clear that he had no choice.
The day Birgit left, it was summer again. Grandpa and I were going fishing almost every day. Back on dry land, Ylva was walking around with a bump as big as the one Mom had been carrying at Christmas. And in the old boat shed, Lena’s raft was ready to be launched.
The whole family from Hillside came down to Mathildewick Cove before they left. They had to drop off Haas. Birgit had decided. I knew how fond she was of her dog, and yet she wanted him to stay with Lena. She thought he would be happier here. That’s what she was like — and that was why I liked her. Lena had been a bit shocked to receive such a generous gift. I didn’t really know what she’d said to Birgit, but I hoped it was thank you.
“Maybe we’ll go and study together one day, right?” Birgit said to me before they left.
Maybe we will, I thought. Who knows, anyway?
Then I got one last curly-haired hug before the Dutch family drove off between the forest and the sea. I stood there, feeling weak and empty, staring at the car in the distance. Grandpa came and stood next to me. After a while, Lena stuck her head between us and put one hand on my shoulder and one on Grandpa’s.
“Well, lads,” she said with a smirk. “Now it’s just the three of us again.”
I could’ve hit her.
Later that day, we were back down by the shore. Lena was lying on her stomach among the clumps of seaweed, attaching a tow hook to the raft, while Haas sat calmly in the sun, watching.