Mummy and Daddy’s hands, which have mostly been caressing his face, are now moving over his body. There are tears in Daddy’s voice as he says: ‘Sweetheart, you’re…you’re whole again.’
‘You were injured,’ Mummy says. ‘You were very badly injured, you were…’ Then she starts crying too.
‘That was the other one,’ Emil says. He knows what he means, but it’s hard to explain, and there isn’t time. ‘Stop crying,’ he says instead, tucking his cuddly toys inside his shirt. ‘We have to find the door.’
Emil has no idea which direction to take. There are no directions here. But they set off. Mummy is holding one of his hands and Daddy the other. It’s nice. The darkness is terrible and they are as lost as it is possible to be, but it is better to be in the darkness with Mummy and Daddy than to be alone in the light. Emil tells them about the campsite, about the Beetle and the Egg. About the door that was closed, and the faint light around the opening. He knows it sounds really weird, but Mummy and Daddy believe him.
They walk and walk, and even though Mummy and Daddy are with him now, a lump forms in Emil’s throat. He doesn’t know how much time has passed, but he is afraid it is far too long. What was it the man said? I was thinking of packing up and moving on. Emil has no idea what that means, but he fears the worst and the lump grows.
‘There,’ Daddy says. ‘What’s that?’
It is impossible to see in which direction he is looking. They stop.
‘Where?’ Emil asks.
Daddy places his fingers on Emil’s temples and gently turns his head to the left. Emil screws up his eyes. He can just make out something red, a faint glow like the dying embers of an open fire.
Emil grabs Daddy’s hand again and drags him and Mummy towards the glow; as they get closer it takes on the form of a rectangle, flickering at the edges as if it is about to sink into the darkness. When they are standing right in front of it, Emil lets go of Mummy and Daddy’s hands and gropes until he finds the handle. He pushes it down and the door opens.
The campsite is burnished by the last moments of twilight, a dark red band across the top of the pine trees. Emil pulls Mummy and Daddy out of the little caravan. They stagger a short distance, then stop and blink in the light, which grows dimmer as their eyes become accustomed to it.
Mummy and Daddy can’t even speak. As they look around they are making noises that mean nothing; they don’t seem to hear the caravan door closing behind them. Only Emil turns back.
It isn’t the same man this time, the one who was knitting. It’s the man with the big caravan, the one who was horrible to his dog. He looks nastily at Emil and says: ‘You were lucky there.’
Now Mummy and Daddy turn around too. ‘Donald?’ Daddy says.
Donald shrugs and folds up the camping chair. In spite of all the strange things that have happened, Emil still can’t help being surprised when Donald walks over to the car, opens the bonnet, and puts the chair inside, where the engine ought to be. Then he remembers: it’s a Beetle. The engine is at the back.
Donald is just about to get into the car, but Daddy takes a few unsteady steps towards him.
‘Hang on,’ he says. ‘Wait, what…was it you that…?’
‘Nope,’ Donald says. ‘But I’m in the driving seat now. Until further notice.’
Daddy’s mouth is hanging open like a fish on dry land. Emil understands; he has so many questions that it’s like searching for water when there isn’t any water. The only words Daddy can manage as Donald settles down behind the wheel are: ‘But why?’
Donald shakes his head. ‘Good luck with working that one out.’ Then he closes the door and starts the engine; they can hear it humming away in the boot, which probably isn’t called the boot in this instance. The car moves away, towing the caravan along behind.
Mummy, Daddy and Emil watch the silver-coloured vehicles drive through the campsite and out onto the road, where they gradually disappear into the shadow of the pine trees.
‘Daddy?’ Emil says, taking out his cuddly toys one by one. ‘Where are my lightsabers?’
*
The thing that used to be Isabelle is walking.
There has always been a hunger, an emptiness, and no one has been able to satisfy it. The hunger is still there. It is strong and it hurts, but it is simple. There is a track to follow. If you just follow the track, then the hunger will be sated, sooner or later. Across the field she walks, together with those who are like her. The song of hunger rises from their throats.
The thing that used to be Isabelle is no longer capable of thinking as humans do, but if she could, she would be thinking something along the lines of: I am happy.
*
Lennart and Olof are lying naked in bed, looking at one another. Benny and Maud are sitting on the floor, looking at Lennart and Olof. It is a moment of stillness. Four pairs of eyes, drinking in one another. Then Lennart sits up, scratches the back of his neck and says: ‘Well, it was worth a try.’
It didn’t work. They had unfolded the bed, then undressed clumsily and with a certain amount of embarrassment. They had got into bed and lay there caressing one another, they kissed a little, but nothing happened.
Olof had put forward the hypothesis that perhaps it wasn’t working because the dog and the cat were sitting there staring at them, but they both knew that wasn’t the real problem.
They could agree on the fact that neither of them saw anything disgusting or shameful in principle in making love the way two men can. It was just that they couldn’t do it, couldn’t find the spark, so instead they lay there for a long time, naked before one another, reaching the level of intimacy that was possible for them right now, and that was good in its own way.
Lennart pulls on his pants and socks, clambers into his dungarees without bothering about a vest. He nods to Olof and strokes his foot before leaving the caravan, accompanied by Benny and Maud.
It’s moving in.
A band of darkness has begun to rise in all directions, all the way along the line of the horizon, and as Lennart watches it grows a few more millimetres, like a sack that is slowly being pulled upwards. The world is shrinking, closing down.
Lennart goes back inside and fetches the gadgets. Olof is getting dressed.
‘It seems to be getting dark,’ Lennart says. ‘Pretty quickly.’
‘I’m coming.’
They stand side by side, watching the approaching darkness as it closes in around them. Benny lets out a short, sharp bark. Olof pats him on the head and says, ‘Not much we can do about it, is there?’
‘No, I don’t think so. Anyway, I’m ready for that lesson now.’
‘Lesson?’
Lennart crouches down on the grass where he has placed the iPod and speakers. He scrolls through the playlist; he doesn’t know which song he is going to choose, but he finds exactly the right one and puts it on repeat. That means it will go on playing for as long as it is possible to play, which is only right.
Olof bursts out laughing when he hears which song Lennart has chosen: it is Abba, ‘Dance (While the Music Still Goes On)’. He opens his arms and Lennart moves into his embrace. It’s not much of a lesson; they just move slowly in each other’s arms, closing their eyes as what is going to happen happens, and the song begins over and over again.
They dance, while the music still goes on.
They dance.
I switch off the light.
I Am Behind You Page 42