Minus Me
Page 11
‘See you at the station,’ he says.
‘What makes you so sure I’m taking the train?’ Linda shouts after him.
‘Well, aren’t you?’
He turns to her, continuing to walk, but backwards.
‘Have you got a mobile number?’ she asks.
‘No.’
‘Surely everybody’s got a mobile.’
‘Not me. See you later!’
Zak hurries away. Linda puts her earphones back in and shakes her head. Zak didn’t even ask when she was leaving. But then he always seems to turn up at the right time. Perhaps he has telepathic powers. She’ll have to ask him, if he turns up on time at the station tomorrow. Not that she expects a straight answer to a question like that.
Chapter 31
s, c, r, a, p. Linda puts her next word on the Scrabble board. Her mother adds an e, making it into scrape. Pleased with herself, she laughs and announces that she’ll have the last Jelly Baby, which is already halfway to her mouth.
‘But you’ve eaten nearly all of them,’ says Linda, looking at her mother, who gets a slightly guilty look on her face as she bites off its head.
‘I’m just so hungry. I haven’t been this hungry for ages.’ She closes her eyes to savour it fully, and then pops the rest into her mouth.
‘When you were pregnant with Linda, Wine Gums were the only thing you could hold down, Ellen,’ says Linda’s father absently as he looks down at his Scrabble letters.
Linda looks at her father and then back at her mother. Will they say something now? How stupid do they think she is? She’s old enough to see what’s going on. Or are they afraid? Afraid her mother might lose this baby too? Linda’s father adds an e in front of the a and a t and an h on the other side, making eath.
‘That’s not a proper word,’ protests Linda.
‘Yes, it is. It’s an old word for easy,’ he says, defending himself.
Linda leans forward and looks at her father’s letters. She sees he has a d. She grabs it and makes the word death.
‘There! That’s a proper word!’ she says.
Neither of her parents answers. Her mother gets up.
‘Perhaps I should refill this,’ she says, taking the empty sweet bowl.
‘No,’ says Linda sternly, grabbing her mother by the wrist. ‘Sit down.’
Her mother sits down with the empty bowl in her lap.
‘What exactly are you two so afraid of? It’s only a word in a game.’
‘I just thought we were going to have a nice time, and forget that you’re not quite on top form,’ says her father.
‘It seems like the two of you can’t think about anything else. On the one hand you both wrap me in cotton wool, and on the other hand you don’t want to talk about it,’ says Linda, looking from one to the other. ‘Nor this,’ she continues, pointing at her mother’s stomach.
‘What do you mean?’ says her father.
‘What do you mean?’ says Linda, mimicking him. ‘I mean that Mum’s getting big, and that I’m going to be a big sister. Do you think I’m thick or what?’
‘But Linda, darling . . .’ says her mum.
‘But Linda, darling . . . !’ Linda copies her mother angrily. ‘Blah, blah, blah. Yes, I might die. I might die today, or tomorrow or in forty years’ time. But I don’t want you to cheat at games so I win, or to avoid saying things as they are. I just want you both to be normal,’ says Linda, sweeping the Scrabble pieces off the board and marching into her room.
In her room she goes straight over to her cupboard and takes out a large rucksack. She keeps her ears pricked as she packs. She hopes that neither of her parents – especially not her mother – will come in to talk to her. She packs as quickly as she can. A few clothes, a couple of photos from her desk, one of her with her parents on holiday in Spain a few years ago, and another of Maria in a pink frame. Then she changes her mind and decides to unpack the photos. It’s not only silly, it might arouse her parents’ suspicion. She puts the rucksack next to her desk and drops down onto her bed. She feels uneasy. How on earth is she going to sleep tonight? She finds her little quilt, the one her grandmother made, and hugs it, breathing in its old, familiar smell. Should she pack it? No, it’ll be too much of a bother. Then, remembering her new dress, she leaps up and opens her wardrobe. She’s got to take it, of course. Nothing should be left to chance when she’s about to experience the most romantic moment of her life. She looks at her rucksack. Perhaps it’s not big enough? She hesitates for a moment, then scrunches up the dress and stuffs it in.
She sits down at her desk and takes out the list. Maria and Zak may not approve of Linda’s list, but it gives her a kind of calm to work through it. And calm is perhaps what she needs most on the evening before she runs away. She can cross off ‘Do something exciting’. Just the thought of last night’s adventure gives her butterflies in her stomach. To think she dared to do it, to actually climb in! She puts a cross by ‘Do something exciting’, and when she thinks about it, she can cross off ‘Do something (a bit) dangerous’ too. Imagine if Zak hadn’t been holding the rope when she lost her foothold on the way up. Or, even worse, if he hadn’t caught her when she was about to step backwards into thin air. She could so easily have died.
Now she’s ready for the next thing on her list. ‘Travel unaccompanied by adults.’ Zak is probably a couple of years older than her, but he doesn’t count as an adult. How old is he, in fact? She must ask him. But then he’s so good at evading her questions. His age, surely he won’t mind telling her that? There’s a gentle knock on her bedroom door, and Linda quickly shoves the list under the mouse mat on her desk. She swings round on her chair and tries to look relaxed, leaning back with an elbow on her desk.
‘Come in,’ she says in a cheerful voice.
It’s her mother, of course, who puts her head round the door.
‘Shall I help you pack?’
‘No, thanks. I’ve already done it,’ says Linda, patting her rucksack.
‘Have you taken enough warm clothes?’
‘Yes . . . woollies and more woollies.’
‘Right. So you’re all set up for your trip to the mountains,’ says her father, appearing at the door. ‘Do you want to take some board games or cards?’ he asks.
‘They’ve got all that stuff up at the cottage, and I’ve taken some books,’ says Linda, giving her rucksack another tap. ‘Thanks for letting me go.’
‘Your boots are by the woodburner, warming up,’ says her mother.
‘Thanks, Mum. That’s really sweet of you.’
It’s irritating to have such overprotective parents sometimes, but she appreciates things like having nice warm boots.
‘Have you got your recharger?’ asks her father.
‘It’s in my bag. Anyway, I’ll only be away a few days, and I’ve been to Maria’s cottage hundreds of times.’
‘True enough,’ says her dad.
‘Yes, but—’ her mother tries to chime in, but her dad interrupts.
‘Let’s leave Linda in peace now.’
‘Thanks, Dad.’
She feels awful. Her parents trust her, and here she is about to do a bunk. Perhaps it’s a bad idea after all? A bit unrealistic at best. She can’t even be sure that Axel’s going to be that pleased to see her. Linda gets up from her desk and tries to shake off her negative thoughts. It’s going to be a long day tomorrow.
Chapter 32
Linda stands in the hallway dressed and ready to go. On her feet she has the warm winter boots. They feel lovely. What isn’t quite as lovely is the way her mother insists on sticking around.
‘I’ll come with you to the crossroads, then I can have a little chat with Maria’s parents,’ says her mother, about to shove her feet into a pair of boots too.
‘Mum . . .’
‘Ellen, dear, it’s only a short trip,’ says her father, joining them in the narrow hallway.
‘Thanks, Mum,’ says Linda. ‘But I can manage to get to the crossroads on my ow
n. Bye, you two!’
Her mother looks despairingly at Linda and then at her husband, and shakes her head.
‘Am I being a bit hysterical? Alright, perhaps I am! But I presume I’ll get a kiss, at least?’
Linda kisses her mother and then her father. She feels a bit queasy at the thought of having lied to them. They do, in fact, have good reason to be concerned about her.
‘Bye!’ she says again. And then: ‘Love you both!’
She doesn’t wait to hear whether they answer or not. She glances at her watch and hurries on. She’ll never get to the station on time; she’ll have to run like crazy.
Zak is waiting for her when she arrives breathless on platform 2. He waves before running towards her. The controller is ready to wave his flag. Grabbing Linda’s arm, Zak helps her to run faster and together they leap on the train at the last moment. As the door closes behind them, Linda falls. She manages to rescue herself with her hands, but the hard, gritty floor grazes them, her rucksack bangs into the back of her head, and her heart feels ready to explode. She thinks of the doctor telling her to take things easy. If they keep up this pace, she’ll die long before they get there.
‘Whoops-a-daisy,’ says Zak, helping her to her feet.
Linda brushes her hands clean. They sting even though there’s no blood. She looks at Zak and attempts a smile. At least they’re on their way. He smiles back, before leading her through the carriage.
Linda’s head rests against the train window; her eyes are closed as she listens to the music in her ears. Together the music and the swaying train seem to rock her thoughts gently back to the summer. She’s with Axel in his room. She has Axel’s bass guitar in her lap and he’s showing her where to put her fingers. She’s concentrating hard, determined to get it right this time. Then she feels his fingertips on her forehead, it’s like a confused spider walking about. So she shakes her head and looks up.
‘You get a little furrow in brow when you concentrate,’ Axel says. ‘There, between your eyebrows.’
He shows her with his finger.
‘Do I?’ she says, touching the place he’s pointing at.
‘Yes, but it’s gone now. I’ll put a song on, so you can try to play along with the bass line,’ he says, going over to the stereo. He fiddles about and finds a track.
It’s the song she’s listening to right now. ‘Deep Pain’ by the Pet Monsters. The train goes into a tunnel. Linda can tell it’s got darker, even though her eyes are closed. She opens them and looks straight at Zak. He is sitting in semi-darkness opposite her. He looks wide awake. And although he’s not reading a book, or looking out of the window, or listening to music, he doesn’t look at all bored.
‘What are you doing?’ she asks, taking off her headphones to hear his answer.
‘Being still,’ he says, with a little smile at the corners of his mouth.
‘Isn’t that boring?’
‘No,’ he answers.
Linda puts her earphones back in. She turns towards the window, where she meets her own reflection before they come out of the tunnel again. There’s no doubt they’re on their way now. What will Axel say when she turns up on his doorstep? She has the urge to call him, to send a text and tell him. But that would ruin the surprise. What will he do? Hold her? Lean her back and kiss her? A long, romantic, movie-style kiss? And then she can die there in his arms. Or perhaps it would be better if they cycled to the beach, and as the waves crash on the shore and the wind whistles through last year’s grass, he can tell her how much he’s missed her, and then he can kiss her. The end. Linda smiles to herself. She savours these future moments as she gazes out of the window.
A motorway runs parallel with the train line. There’s a minibus driving along it. Linda bangs her head on the window, trying to read what’s written on the big logo that’s stuck on its side.
‘Pet Monsters,’ she bursts out. ‘It’s the Pet Monsters! That’s amazing. I’m sitting here listening to one of their tracks!’
‘Really?’ asks Zak.
‘Yes, they’re so cool. Axel’s really into them too. I learned one of their songs last the summer. We played it really loud on the stereo, and I played bass along with it.’
‘Are they famous?’
‘They’re amazing! And they have this pyro-show at their concerts, and all this fire spouts out over the stage.’
‘Have you ever been to one of their concerts?’
‘No, but I’ve seen one on TV. Imagine if they’re playing round here. Just think if we could go to a concert. You’d really love them. I think they’re your kind of thing.’
‘What makes you think that?’
‘Well, they all wear black, for starters.’
‘And everyone that wears black has the same taste in music?’
‘Yeah, whatever,’ says Linda, starting to rummage desperately about in her bag.
‘What are you looking for?’
‘My list. I’ve got to have my list. It says “Go to a rock concert”. And now maybe we can.’
Zak moves over to sit beside her and grabs her wrist.
‘Linda, stop it.’
‘Stop what?’
‘Stop going on about that list. What do you think life is? Some sort of form, with boxes to be filled out?’
‘But I like my list!’
‘Why? What is it you like about putting crosses next to things on some random sheet of paper?’
Zak’s hand is cold, and his questions make her want to cry. She swallows hard and tries to find a good answer.
‘Because then . . .’ she says, hesitating. ‘Then I kind of know what I’m going to do.’
‘How about not worrying so much what you’re going to do? How about just being here? That’s the really difficult thing to do. If you’re always thinking about what you’re going to do next, you can’t ever really be here now.’
‘But . . .’
‘Shh. Just be quiet now, Linda. I’ll come and see the band with you. They’re playing at the town hall at the next stop tonight. We can jump off the train.’
‘But how did you know that?’
‘I told you . . . I’m very good at guessing!’
‘Are you clairvoyant?’
‘It was in the papers.’
Zak hands her a newspaper that was on the seat next to him. Linda opens it and reads pet monsters touring norway.
‘Wow . . . amazing. I’m so excited. It’s going to be so amazingly cool!’
‘You’re doing it again.’
‘What?’
‘Living in the future.’
‘We have to be allowed to be happy and look forward to things.’
‘Yes, but it’s equally important to let all the things around you make you happy.’
‘Zak . . . we’re sitting on a train,’ groans Linda.
‘Yes, but it’s a very nice train. Look at what nice seats we’ve got, right next to the window, and feel how soft they are, and how the train rocks so gently on the rails, and how it’s just the right temperature in here. Look at the great landscape that’s gliding past.’
Zak has taken both her hands and is crouching down in front of her.
‘Feel your breath, Linda. Feel how it’s going in and out so calmly,’ he says, turning off the music that’s seeping out of the headphones.
Linda lets him put her iPod in her bag. She suddenly feels calm, and her hands feel heavy and warm in her lap. It’s not that bad just to be here. Zak sits down in the seat opposite her again, resting his hands in his lap. Who is he? She wants to ask him a hundred questions again, but something makes her just sit quietly like him. In total silence, feeling her breath and the amazing warmth of her hands.
Chapter 33
There’s a bit less snow here in Otta than in Trondheim, but it’s still winter here too. Linda quickly finishes her banana and puts her mittens on again. Zak has politely turned down her offer of a banana, insisting that he’s already eaten.
‘But that was hours ago,’ Linda pr
otests, throwing away the skin. ‘Do you want some water at least?’
‘Stop fussing, will you! Who do you think you are? My mother?’ Zak marches off, clearly irritated.
‘Wait for me,’ says Linda, gulping down the rest of the water.
Zak plonks himself down on a bench and glowers at her.
‘How about we play a game?’ she says, screwing the lid back on the bottle.
She sits down next to him, and before he can protest she puts the bottle on the ground and spins it.
‘Truth or dare?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘If the bottle points towards you, you either have to give a truthful reply to a question or you have to do something I dare you to do.’
‘That’s a stupid game,’ he says, stopping the bottle with his shoe.
‘Ha! You made it stop while it was pointing at you. Now you have to choose . . . truth or dare.’
‘Okay . . . truth,’ sighs Zak.
‘Is it true that you’re going to meet a girl in Stavanger?’
‘Yes.’
‘Is she your girlfriend?’
‘You only get one question. Come on, let’s check this town out. There’s still time before the concert,’ says Zak, getting up.
Linda feels a little bit cheated as she picks the bottle up from the ground.
Zak and Linda walk rather aimlessly across the road. Otta doesn’t have much to offer apart from a shopping centre. They’re crossing a bridge when something comes flapping through the air. Linda jumps back to prevent whatever it is from hitting her in the face.
‘Oh no!’ she says, when she sees a little bird lying at their feet. It was just an ordinary blue tit.
Linda touches it with her shoe. When it doesn’t move she crouches down to take a closer look at it. It doesn’t look as if it’s breathing. Its beak is half open. Linda takes her mitten off and pokes it with her index finger. It doesn’t react.
‘It looks dead,’ she says.
Zak bends down to look at the bird too.
‘It is dead,’ he declares, before straightening up again.