Thin Ice
Page 17
‘Yes, unfortunately. If you lie, they’ll find out, and then we’re done for. I won’t be approved.
‘But you’re good,’ said Mik. ‘I approve of you.’
‘Oh, if only it were that simple,’ said Lena and rattled off, ‘Partner, living alone, alcohol, drugs, finances and … oh shit.’
‘What?’ said Mik.
‘Nothing, it’s just that there’s so much of it. Listen to this: “An enquiry that will form the basis for a decision about custody must be objective, impartial and truthful, according to the Constitution, Chapter one, Paragraph nine.”’
‘Paragraph?’
‘It’s bedtime,’ said Lena.
Mik creaked slowly up the stairs. He stood extra long on the stair that creaked the most.
‘Paragraph,’ he said slowly and in the same tone as the creak.
And then the next stair.
‘Paragraph.’
And the next.
‘Paragraph.’
And the next.
‘Parrot Earrings.’
‘Parrot Earrings.’
‘Parrot Earrings.’
He would like to lure her up to Granberg mountains where Bertil had built his landing strip and let the UFO take her.
THEY’RE HERE NOW
Mik was having a swimming lesson, attached to a rope from the bridge. He fought against the current, fought against the river of primeval rivers which flowed from the mountain of primeval mountains. Water gushed towards him, was forced into his ears and mouth. Pushed its way up his nose, filled his forehead and the whole of his brain. His arm and leg muscles screamed.
It had been Oskar’s idea. At first everyone had thought it was crazy.
‘Yes, but,’ he said, ‘if Mik swims against the current we only have to stand on the bridge and hold the rope. He won’t go anywhere.’
Filip laughed. Pi thought for a while and said, ‘You’re a genius, Oskar.’
‘Am I?’ said Oskar.
So Mik lay there, struggling, putting in as much effort as he could manage. Squeezed the last bit of strength out of every muscle. It wasn’t enough. The current was pushing him backwards. The rope chafed his stomach. Oskar was an idiot.
Pi held the rope up on the bridge. She shouted, ‘Fight! Keep your fingers together. Long strokes or you’ll be dragged along with it.’
‘Legs,’ yelled Filip. ‘Don’t forget your legs.’
Mik bent over double and was swept under the bridge. Pi had to run down to the bridge footings and pull him ashore. Mik crawled up onto the bank, snorted and hissed and felt like a spineless water animal. His muscles quivered.
‘It was a good idea, but you probably have to know how to swim to be able to do it.’
Oskar helped Mik up onto his feet.
‘So I’m not a genius?’
Mik put his clothes on and they clambered up the slope. A silver-coloured car drove across the bridge. It was going fast and flashed by. Dust from the road whirled in the air. A shining silver flash of lightning out of a clear blue summer sky. Right into the heart.
Mik had known it would happen, but for safety’s sake his brain had hidden it away in the security room, the same place where death lived.
Now the steel doors flew open and everything poured out, all jumbled up. Dog turds, skeletons, monsters, dysfunctional foster parents, spiders, H. Stål and Snake Alone. They crawled around inside him in a brown sludge.
Gold Tooth was driving and Parrot Earrings sat beside him. They hadn’t seen him. The car drove over the bridge and continued past Gustavsson’s dog, which launched a violent attack. It chased after them, barking, until it came to the end of its leash. The dog whirled round with a strangled cry and landed on its back.
If the cosmos was only a thought, there was no more thinking to be done. The world had ended.
‘Mik, what is it?’ said Pi. ‘Have you hurt yourself? Was it the rope?’
His tendons wouldn’t hold him up. His knees gave way and he fell into Pi’s arms.
‘They’re here now.’
Immediately she understood, held him hard and looked away towards the car that turned off the road to Lena’s house.
‘Breathe,’ she said, close to his ear.
‘I am breathing.’
‘Good,’ said Pi quietly. ‘We’ll sort this out. You know that. We’ll run off.’
Oskar had no idea what was going on. He thought it was his fault. That something had happened to Mik during his swimming lesson. That something had been broken.
‘Is he injured?’
‘Don’t you get it?’ said Filip. ‘Mik’s got to go back to the darkness. To the concentration camp to clean up the dog shit. To the evil side.’
They all looked towards the road junction where the car had disappeared. Gustavsson’s dog got back on its feet, vomited a little and loped back to his kennel.
‘Are we the good side?’ said Oskar.
‘You’re the bonkers side,’ said Filip.
‘The raft,’ said Pi.
THE PARAGRAPH FLIES
The raft felt heavier and slower than ever before. They glided forward as if through treacle, even though there was a following wind out on the lake. Mik, Oskar and Filip were on their knees, paddling in silence. The tent canvas rustled gently; the waves lapped against the logs.
Pi stood up, binoculars to her eyes, sweeping the edges of the lake. They had paddled first straight across Lake Selet and then followed the shoreline towards the end of the lake where it flowed into the river. Filip had protested, saying the route would be quicker if they paddled directly towards the end of the lake.
‘Of course we could do that,’ Pi had said, ‘if you want them to see us straight away. If we follow the other edge we won’t be seen against the forest.’
Pi swept the lakeside again. She couldn’t see any possible threat, so she lowered the binoculars and said, ‘Okay. We’re running away.’
‘But Mik’s already running away,’ said Oskar. ‘Now he’s running away from running away.’
‘Shut up,’ said Pi.
‘The double runner,’ said Oskar and laughed at his own joke.
‘Double genius,’ said Filip.
The hours went by and it felt as if they were getting nowhere. Silence covered the forest of ancient gnarled trees lining the shore. The branches hung over the water as if they were trying to snare the raft, and deeper into the dense darkness a tangle of dead trees with their uprooted trunks could be made out, like giant watchful spiders.
‘I’m too tired to do any more,’ whined Filip.
‘Paddle,’ said Pi.
Filip looked at his hands.
‘I’ve got blisters and my shoulder’s twisted out of its socket.’
‘It’ll be better later,’ said Pi. ‘Once we reach the river we’ll only have to go with the current and steer.’
But Filip carried on moaning. ‘Where are we heading, then?’
‘To China,’ said Oskar, grinning.
‘We’re running away from something,’ said Pi. ‘Not to something. Whatever happens, happens.’
‘What will happen then?’ said Oskar.
‘We’ll die in the Älg rapids,’ said Filip.
‘I don’t want to die,’ said Oskar.
Pi got annoyed. ‘You’re such flipping cowards.’
‘I’m a coward, am I?’ yelled Filip, and he let go of the paddle and clenched his fists.
‘Yes,’ said Pi. ‘You didn’t even dare take Maria’s cat back.’
‘Stop it,’ said Mik. ‘You can let me off at the shore and I’ll go on my own.’
‘Where?’ said Oskar.
‘Somewhere.’
It was a game for them, but it was no game for him. The difference was enormous and endless, and nothing could be done about it. It was he and he alone who was being hunted by The Paragraph. When Pi, Filip and Oskar got tired of the game they could creep down into their own beds and call for warm milk. He understood them. No one was a coward. You need
ed courage to be able to face a threat, and to risk danger when there was no threat wasn’t brave but stupid.
‘Just help me to paddle the raft ashore and I’ll go on my own.’
Pi, Filip and Oskar stood looking at Mik in silence as he paddled the raft with all his strength without moving it any closer to the shore. The muscles in his thin arms were tensed, his neck was bent. He put his whole body into the effort. Heaved and sobbed. The raft didn’t move.
Pi’s mobile started to ring. One ring, two. She picked it up and looked at the display. Three rings, four. Everyone looked at her. Five rings. She held her hand out over the edge of the raft and let go of the phone. Splash. They stared at her in astonishment, their eyes wide. She smiled back. Oskar’s phone started to ring. He looked at Pi, grinned uncertainly and threw it in.
Seconds later there was a ringing from Filip’s pocket. He took out his mobile, shook his head and whined, ‘It does everything,’ he said. ‘Radio, camera, MP3 player, torch, and it’s …’
‘Are you afraid?’ said Oskar.
Filip held out his hand and let go of the phone. Splash. A faint ringing could be heard as it sank to the bottom.
‘Waterproof.’
They paddled in silence. No one complained about blisters or tiredness. Every so often Pi looked through the binoculars. The only thing she saw was Bengt and Bertil bringing up their nets.
They carried on with their journey long after the sun had gone down and the air had turned blue and cool. Mik noticed it was getting easier, that the raft was keeping a good pace. The water had a current.
‘We’ll stop here,’ said Pi. ‘The way out is down there, and we’ve got to tackle the Älg rapids in daylight.
They tied the raft to some large trees and camouflaged it with leafy branches which they pushed between the logs and spread over the tent. It was impossible to detect, a floating bush.
They crawled into the tent and down into their sleeping-bags.
Mik couldn’t sleep. The others were asleep already. Oskar had taken Filip’s pillow and Pi was snoring quietly. Mik stared up at the tent roof where mosquitoes and midges were bumping against the canvas. He was listening. The water lapped against the sides of the raft. Occasionally the tent canvas rustled. Far off in the distance was a faint rushing sound. There was a flapping of powerful wings.
The Paragraph flew over mountains, forests and lakes. A demon with talons, sharp teeth and bloody ears. The Paragraph saw everything, heard everything and wanted to know everything. The Paragraph crept in the forest, sniffed along the shore, flew across every sky. Searched for him and would take him. No one could hide from the Paragraph, for he was everywhere.
Mik shook Pi.
‘Can you hear that rushing sound?’
‘Yes. It’s only the noise from the Älg rapids. Go to sleep now.’
Mik crept closer to Pi. She turned on her side and blew warm air into his ear.
They paddled in silence. It was easy now. The current was getting stronger and stronger. Patches of turbulence and ripples could be seen on the smooth surface. The raft’s crew concentrated, heavy lumps growing in their chests. The rushing noise from the Älg rapids got louder. They saw the edge ahead and the spray that rose up from the forest. Faster and faster the raft travelled towards the world’s end, where everything tips down into the unknown. The rushing grew to a roar. Now there was no time for regrets. They stopped paddling.
‘Oh no,’ said Oskar.
Pi looked at Mik.
‘Hold on. You mustn’t fall off. Promise.’
Mik lay down and held on to some rope. The raft slid over the threshold and the whole of the Älg rapids lay before them. Wild and roaring. Waves hurled high into the air. Their stomachs sank. The current shook and tugged at the raft and the logs creaked and groaned. Whirling white foamy water. Faster and faster. They spun round and thrashed about. They were riding a monster at full gallop. The waves crashed over them. Oskar lost his paddle. Backpacks and bags were swept overboard. The rapids played with the big, heavy raft as if it were made of bark.
Wave after wave washed over them. The tent was torn down; tent poles snapped. Mik shut his eyes and clung on desperately. The river tugged and tore at his clothes, grabbed hold of his body, wanted to pull him off, drag him down into the whirlpools. Take him. Kill him. Drown him.
Then everything went calm.
Mik looked up. It was over. Perhaps he’d wet himself, but his clothes were soaked through so it didn’t matter. They had come down into a kind of small lake. The raft rotated slowly and then followed the river round the curve.
The crew was shaken but unharmed. Oskar and Filip suddenly became quite wild, laughing and shrieking and dancing on the raft.
‘Wow!’
‘We did it! We’re the best.’
Pi looked at Mik and smiled. Water was running from her hair and down over her face. Mik started to laugh too and thumped his chest. It was a long time since he had felt giddy with happiness like this. They were all filled with a bubbling joy. It sparkled like a fizzy drink in their veins. Life itself seemed to start over again. Oskar and Filip couldn’t stop leaping around. If you survived the Älg rapids, you could survive anything.
‘Woohoo,’ shouted Filip. ‘Rapids – bring ’em on!’
The raft sailed on down the river. They paddled and steered, using poles to guide them. Pi examined the damage and checked what had been lost in the rapids. Oskar’s paddle had gone, but that didn’t matter much now because the river carried them forwards. It would be easy to mend the raft and the tent. The logs could be tied together again and they could find more tent poles in the forest. But what about the supplies?
‘The food,’ said Pi. ‘We lost everything except a tin of meatballs and a tin of peas. The matches survived, at least.’
‘What are we going to do?’ said Oskar. ‘We’ll starve.’
‘No, there will be lots of fish,’ said Pi. ‘We’ll have to do some fishing.’
‘I hate fish,’ said Oskar.
The sleeping-bags and pillows were soaked through. They hung everything from the mast to dry.
They sailed through deep ravines between vertical rock faces where the air was cool and the sky was a thin blue line above their heads. They worked their way around large rocks between murmuring dark forests. Several times the raft wedged itself against rocks and they had to jump off and pull it free. They came out into wide, open water and had to paddle hard again.
Despite blisters and aching muscles, no one complained. They were on the run; they were on an adventure, and no one could stop them.
Towards evening the current became more powerful. They could hear the low rushing sound of the Borg rapids in the distance and they longed for it with a mixture of terror and delight.
Tired and with their stomachs groaning from hunger, they paddled ashore and secured the raft. Pi divided up the tasks. Oskar and Filip had to repair and strengthen the raft before the next day’s journey down the Borg rapids, and the tent needed new poles. She and Mik were going to fish for their dinner.
‘I don’t eat fish,’ said Oskar and started tying together logs that had worked loose.
‘Well you’ll just have to eat pine cones then,’ said Pi, handing Mik a fishing rod.
They walked downstream a short distance and Pi pointed at the flowing water, showing him the good fishing places. He would be fishing in still pools behind big rocks at the edge of the current. That was where the fish were.
Mik kept slipping on the stony bank, got his line tangled up and lost his hook.
Pi caught yellow-speckled trout and grayling with large violet fins on their backs. She laughed at Mik and gave him another line and hook, which soon got stuck high up in a pine tree. He pulled and a pine cone fell down.
‘You’re just unlucky,’ said Pi.
They gutted the fish together. She was good at that, too. Mik thought the insides of the fish were slimy and he found it difficult to cut a straight line across the stomach. Pi sh
owed him how to hold the fish and then it went better.
Oskar and Filip had repaired the raft and the tent looked good, its canvas stretched tightly. They had also gathered sticks and made a fire in a neat hearth.
‘Fish is revolting,’ said Oskar,
‘Mik actually caught a pine cone,’ said Pi.
Night fell over the forest. The river gurgled, the fire crackled and the fish grilled on sticks propped up against the flames. They hissed and bubbled. The fat fell in drops. The smell was wonderful.
Mik was wild with hunger. He didn’t care if the whole world disintegrated, as long as he could eat first. Pi took a fish from the fire and tasted it. She nodded and Filip and Mik threw themselves forward and took a fish each. They ate with their fingers, cramming the food into their mouths. Oskar pulled a disgusted face.
‘Lovely,’ said Mik. ‘Even the skin.’
He looked across the fire into Pi’s eyes. The flames glittered and crackled. She was all right. How all right? Probably an eleven on a scale of one to ten. Maybe even a twelve – hard to tell when she was off the scale.
They chatted round the fire about what would happen after the Borg rapids. But nobody knew. After the Borg rapids they were in unknown territory. Perhaps there were more rapids. Maybe waterfalls. Or perhaps the worst was over and it would be plain sailing to the sea. And then what? Nobody could answer that. They would have to decide then.
Mik put more sticks on the fire and moved the lumps of wood around with a stick. There was something lying there among the glowing embers. Something strange and round. A metal object? He poked it with the stick. A red-hot tin can with bulging sides. And then it exploded. BOOM. Boiling hot meatballs flew in all directions. One hit Oskar right in the middle of his forehead. The fire went out. There were only small embers dotted around the outside.
‘What the bloody hell happened?’ said Filip.
Oskar held his forehead.
‘I put the can in to heat up …’
‘Then you probably should have opened it first,’ said Mik.
They collected some wood and the fire was soon burning again. Pi was angry.