Читать книгу The Ice People 37 - The City of Horror - Margit Sandemo - Страница 11

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Nos 8 and 9: Ingrid and Kalle

The old street had changed, but Willy’s house was still there. He rang the doorbell to the lower flat and heard his own heart beating with excitement. But nobody answered, and glancing at the nameplate, he discovered that there was somebody else’s name on it. A window opened upstairs and a buxom woman leaned out.

“There’s no one at home.”

Willy took a step back and shouted: “Doesn’t the Matteus family live here any longer?”

“Matteus? No, that’s many years ago. The wife moved when her husband died.”

Willy was shaken. “Is he dead? I didn’t know. Where ... did she move to?”

The woman shrugged her shoulders. “Ask the Karlsens next door. I think they knew them better.”

He thanked the woman and rang the bell next door. A girl opened the door. Yes, they had Mrs Matteus’s address somewhere. She asked him to step inside. While the girl searched, Willy tried to recover from the news of his father’s death. He had been so sure that his family still lived there that he hadn’t thought of any other option. He had never dropped them a line during his many years away; it had been a bitter struggle for him to leave and he had been angry when he said goodbye. The bitterness had abated as the years passed, and he was ready to be reconciled. And now his father was no longer there ...

The girl returned with a note in her hand. Yes, Mrs Matteus had moved and was staying with her daughter in Trondheim. At this address.

Trondheim? Willy did some quick mental arithmetic. His hand instinctively moved to his pocket. Then he stiffened.

“My wallet! My papers ...”

He let his arm drop. “Oh,” he said, paralysed. “I put them on a box on the ship while I was brushing my jacket.”

“What a shame,” said the girl. “Can’t you get hold of the ship?”

Willy stared emptily. “That won’t be easy. You see, I ... Well, never mind. The boat arrived in Halden today. I’ve just come from there.”

The girl said eagerly: “Well, you just have to return to Halden. If you want, I can get Kalle to give you a lift. He’s a lorry driver I know. His lorry is parked by the café.”

Willy hesitated. “That’s very kind of you. I’m rather tired. I felt ill recently with a bad bout of the flu while I was on board the ship. There was such a draught everywhere, and I don’t think it was a good idea to hitch a ride on that boat. I still feel a bit under the weather, so if you could help me, it would be splendid.”

“Of course,” the girl said. “I’ll just get my coat.”

They found Kalle, the lorry driver, and while they waited for him to get ready to go, Willy took his leave of the girl.

“You’ve been very kind,” he said. “We probably won’t see each other again, but I want to thank you properly when I get hold of my papers and have recovered. May I call you?”

The girl blushed. “Yes, I don’t think there’s any harm in that,” she said slowly. “Here’s my telephone number. You already have the address. Good luck!”

Willy climbed up into the lorry next to the heavy driver.

Kalle said in his booming, beery voice: “Oh, so you’ve lost your wallet. Ingrid said you’re a sailor?”

“No, that’s not what I am. But I did arrive today on a ship.”

“Which one?”

“The Fanny. It’s a small cargo ship. We came from Rotterdam.”

“Let’s hope that nobody has taken your wallet.”

“I don’t think they will have. It’s well hidden. It will be a bit difficult ...”

“Why?”

Willy laughed. “You see, I was a stowaway!”

“Oh, damn. Then it won’t be easy to explain why you want to go aboard. How did that happen?”

“I came from the Far East via Africa and landed in the Netherlands. I was beginning to get short of money, but then I came across the Fanny, which was bound for Norway, and I didn’t want to miss such a good chance. I managed to get aboard, but my hiding place was very cold and I caught a very heavy cold. Actually, at one point I thought I was going to die, but then I recovered a bit. But now, this evening, I’m feeling unwell again. I’m aching all over.”

“I suppose you’ve got the flu. You’re probably not used to Norwegian temperatures. They can be really bad, and then a cough and a cold make things worse.”

“Yes,” said Willy. “I feel feverish, my back is aching and I’ve a strange feeling in my mouth. It will be good to lie in a hotel bed and get a good night’s sleep. I just hope I can get hold of my papers.”

“Well, if you’ve come this far, you’ll also get through the rest. We’re in Norway now – the authorities aren’t bullies.”

They drove across a deserted, windblown plateau in a flaming sunset, intensely red and clear, such as only the January sun can produce. The snow, which never really gets a grip in Östfold, lay like a thin blanket over the plateau, leaving only the road bare, like a shiny, treacherously slippery thread to the horizon.

“How did you get off the boat?”

Willy came to. He was in a feverish daze, thirsty, sweating, far too hot and with a dull anxiety at the new turn his illness was taking. “I was lucky. The boat had to put in for a moment before Svinesund due to ice in the sound, so I seized the opportunity to jump ashore. Nobody noticed me, then a family from Sarpsborg offered me a lift. The man was a real bighead, ugh!”

“Oh yes, I know the kind!”

“I suppose I forgot my wallet and documents because I was in such a hurry to get off the boat. How stupid of me! How incredibly stupid!”

A link in the lorry’s snow chains had come loose and was hitting the hubcap with a monotonous metallic sound. Willy had to strain to hear Kalle’s voice. The fever was taking hold and he leaned back in his seat.

Agnes reached the station of the Sauöya ferry, where some boats were thumping against the wharf. An icy wind blew in her face as she turned the corner.

There was Doffen! She was just about to shout at him when she discovered that he wasn’t alone. He was playing with another dog, a poodle, and they ...

Ugh! Dogs were so repulsive! Agnes blushed all over and had red blotches on her neck. A young girl was also there, desperately shouting “Blanzeflor!” at the other dog, but both dogs were too busy to obey.

A few boys were walking past on their way to town. Agnes turned away immediately: she didn’t know Doffen, he was certainly not her dog!

The boys laughed.

One of them said: “Both of them are he-dogs.”

The other boy said something that was probably supposed to be a joke, and then they just continued walking.

Student humour, thought Agnes in disgust, while still pretending that she didn’t know Doffen. The other woman also seemed to be embarrassed, because Agnes heard no more shouts for Blanzeflor.

She didn’t really know what to do. She couldn’t very well leave Doffen to his own devices, but she definitely refused to have anything to do with him while he was in the middle of such ... immoral business. As if to show that she was there for a completely different reason, she walked determinedly up to the ferry in order to pass the time.

A man was hanging over the rail by the steps that led to the moorings. Agnes naturally thought he was drunk, and shuddered. She hurried past him, but he called out: “Hello! Wait a moment!”

Agnes tripped along. She was a decent woman and would never react to such shouts.

“Wait! Help me! I’m not drunk but sick. Please help me for a moment.”

She hesitated. Then she turned around slowly. He had collapsed on the step and was sitting in the cold wind under one of the yellow lights on the wharf. His clothes were much too thin, and Agnes’s good heart got the better of her.

“What can I do for you?” she asked. “Do you want me to call a doctor?”

He shook his head. “I can do that myself later. But first of all, I must reach my ship and fetch something before it leaves. Would you mind helping me down to that boat over there? I can’t climb down by myself, and the wind is fierce.”

“Well, for heaven’s sake. It’s not good for you to try to reach the ship when you’re in such a pitiful state!”

“Yes, I just need to get aboard that rowing boat. Then I’ll just borrow it for a moment. It isn’t locked up, and I’ll be quick about it. Here, please give me a hand.”

The young woman came past and also stopped. She was plain-looking, almost nondescript. She went quickly down the steps and held the boat with stronger hands than Agnes’ spinsterish ones ...

The man crawled clumsily down and slid so that he very nearly fell over Agnes. For a moment, his face brushed against her own and she felt his feverish breath. Then the other woman stretched out her hand and supported him. He regained his balance and was on board the rowing boat.

“Thanks for your help,” he said and pushed off.

They followed the boat, which soon disappeared in the darkness. The ice floes knocked against it like steel and the oars creaked in their rowlocks. Light was streaming from a large ship by the quay, the wind was howling around the corners of the buildings, and Agnes suddenly realized that she was freezing.

The other woman said that she had to be going. She took her dog, which she had tied to a lamp post, and left. Agnes was too cowardly to confess that the dog the woman thought was a stray and had caused her problems, happened to be hers. Or almost. Agnes was silent and ashamed of Doffen.

She watched the woman walk away and disappear among the storage sheds.

Not until then did she dare to call Doffen in a low voice. A little, white, rumpled shadow appeared by her side as if nothing had happened. She quickly took the naughty dog by his collar and, without a word, she tripped off back towards town.

Pastor Prunck was on the telephone. His face was glistening with perspiration. He was speaking to Mr Holt, his bank manager. “I promise that within a fortnight, I’ll put every single penny on your desk. It’s no problem at all, I just need you to give me until then ...”

Mr Holt’s voice was sharp. “This isn’t the first time you’ve asked for an extension, Mr Prunck. The bank can’t wait any longer. We must have the money tomorrow, otherwise we’ll have to resort to the steps we take in such instances.”

Then he put the receiver down.

The pastor groaned. A few minutes later, he had made up his mind. He produced a list and began to call people on it. “Yes, it’s Pastor Prunck speaking. In his mercy, the Lord has given me a new revelation. We have to go to our shelter tonight, where we’ll await Doomsday on earth. The first horrible things are bound to start occurring, and we need to protect ourselves, the Lord’s little flock, in order to build a new ten millennia on earth.”

He thought that “millennium” sounded impressive so he had adopted it, but now changed his wording slightly. Where had “ten millennia” come from? But it sounded even grander. “So we’ll now gather all our belongings and move into the Temple. Secretly, of course. None of the infidels must play a part in our salvation.”

In the last quiet hours of the evening, the frightened but exulting members of the sect sneaked into the cave, dragging their bedclothes and all the other stuff they couldn’t do without.

Pastor Prunck stood by the door, counting his sheep, saying some encouraging words and giving small pats on the shoulder, muttering blessings, while he silently did some mental arithmetic, figuring out how much he could earn from each person.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, dear Karen Margrethe! Dogs don’t go to heaven!”

Kamma stopped abruptly. “I can’t leave Blanzeflor to a horrible death out in the world. Unless Lavinia stays outside with him.”

Pastor Prunck saw Vinnie’s fortune disappearing before his eyes, so he said in a tone of disgust: “Well, then bring the dog with you. But it mustn’t disturb the spiritual peace of our Temple.”

“He’ll be so quiet that you won’t notice him at all. Besides, we won’t be going to heaven yet, will we? Surely we’re being given the Lord’s protection so that we avoid death?”

Pastor Prunck laughed nervously. “Yes, of course.” Then he turned away from the inquisitive Kamma and asked the next family: “Where’s Karl Johan?”

“He’ll be coming,” the father said. “He wasn’t at home but ought to be here soon. We left him a message.”

The pastor seemed to disapprove of this answer. “In a quarter of an hour’s time, the gates will be closed.”

Another inconspicuous woman appeared out of the darkness with her belongings. Mr Prunck wanted to say that you can’t take anything with you to the other side, but wisely held his tongue – something he had learned from bitter experience. He mustn’t frighten them into thinking that it was already time to go. Because that wasn’t the case at all.

He looked around uneasily: “Where’s young Björg?”

“Don’t worry,” her mother replied. “Björg is coming. She just needed to close the boat house so that nobody loots it while we’re in here.”

Pastor Prunck gave a sigh of relief, but said sternly: “I think you’ve forgotten why we’re here! There will be nothing left of humankind when the punishment of the Lord strikes them!”

An elderly woman slipped into the cave and the pastor smiled most seductively at her, but his smile disappeared as soon as she had walked past him.

Finally, Björg showed up. Pastor Prunck felt his zest for life return when he saw her, and he stretched out his hand automatically to caress her silken hair. Immediately afterwards, young Karl Johan walked in.

Then the rusty iron door was closed and locked very securely. The end of the world could begin whenever it wanted.

So ended the evil day.

A seemingly ordinary, innocent day, followed by the day when the horror became apparent. The morning when Death swept across the town. When there was something ominous about the hoarse, discordant factory sirens.

For many people, that was the day the nightmare began. For two large groups, and for nine people in particular. For Karen Margrethe Dahlen and her niece, Vinnie Dahlen. For Willy Matteus, Herbert, Gun and Wenche Sommer. For Ingrid Karlsen and Kalle, the lorry driver. And for sprightly little Agnes.

For one of them, time had already run out.