Jonas Guave.
“What?” asked Laura.
“Cutting the grass too often in the spring,” said Jonas Guave.
He was warming to his theme, she could tell, because he started expanding on the topic.
“It wouldn’t take much work to make this garden look fabulous, you know. As I said: Plant an apple tree. Build a playhouse. Keep the gate ajar to suggest openness. Closed gates indicate closed minds.”
Laura nodded. Jonas Guave had cookie crumbs in the corner of his mouth though she hadn’t given him any cookies. How strange that she had noticed it only now and not when they were sitting next to each other on the sofa. He was tall, his physical presence slightly oppressive.
“You stand on your veranda and your eye stops at the gate,” said Jonas Guave, “and when your eye stops, so do your thoughts.”
Laura wondered how often he would say that.
She was overwhelmed by the urge to open her mouth and laugh, but instead she tried to concentrate on a red spot on Jonas Guave’s chin, an old cut, she thought, the result of careless shaving, perhaps. She smiled at him. What else should she do? After all, it wouldn’t do to laugh. Or to hit him.
When your eye stops, so do your thoughts.
Blah blah blah.
Idofiotov! Poqrosicodkol!
Laura wanted Jonas Guave to go. He was welcome to sell the house, now or in the spring, but she wanted him to go. She didn’t want to explain…She didn’t want to have to explain the closed gate. Laura smiled. It hurt, but she smiled all the same. It was a sort of exercise in self-control: Don’t hit him!
“We keep the gate closed so Yap doesn’t escape and get run over,” she said.
“And Yap is…?” asked Jonas Guave.
“My daughter,” said Laura.
Jonas Guave looked disconcerted again.
“I’m joking,” said Laura. “My daughter’s name is Julia. But I said that already, didn’t I? Yap would be a good name for her, though. But Yap is our dog. Well, it’s Julia’s dog, really. You know how it is. The kids nag you to have a dog, then they get one, and after a week they can’t be bothered to take it for walks and so it sort of became ours, mine and Lars-Eivind’s. Yap is with some friends this week, in the country.”
Jonas Guave nodded. Laura talked. Don’t hit him. Be nice to Jonas Guave. It wasn’t Jonas Guave’s fault that Laura had wanted to go upstairs with him or climb trees with him five minutes before, and now just wanted him to go. Get lost. Laura talked softly. It had started to snow. It was snowing on them. They would be completely covered in snow if they continued to stand here motionless in Laura and Lars-Eivind’s garden. She looked straight at Jonas Guave. The red spot on his chin. Maybe not a cut. Maybe just a little birthmark he had scratched.
“We got him from a shelter. And they warned us…I mean, this is why we keep the gate closed. They warned us. Yap has no traffic sense. He runs out in front of cars. Just like my sister. No traffic sense. She keeps ringing up and asking how to get to places. She’s distinctly helpless. Right now she’s on her way to Sweden to visit our father. He’s dying.”
Laura paused for breath and could see that Jonas Guave would soon have had enough.
“I’m going soon, as well,” she added.
“To Sweden?”
“Yes. I’m going to drive down and visit our father. He’s terribly old now. I may never see him again if I don’t go now. We’re all going at the same time, traveling separately and meeting there. My sisters and I.”
Laura looked at Jonas Guave and laughed. Every morning she plaited her hair and the plait reached almost to her bottom.
“And when I get back home we can sell the house, all right?”
Chapter 34
Laura decided to buy flowers. She would go into town to do some shopping, and she would buy flowers and make everything look nice at home.
Jonas Guave had gone, and now she would spend the rest of the day cooking dinner and surprise Lars-Eivind when he got home late that evening. First she
“What?” asked Laura.
“Cutting the grass too often in the spring,” said Jonas Guave.
He was warming to his theme, she could tell, because he started expanding on the topic.
“It wouldn’t take much work to make this garden look fabulous, you know. As I said: Plant an apple tree. Build a playhouse. Keep the gate ajar to suggest openness. Closed gates indicate closed minds.”
Laura nodded. Jonas Guave had cookie crumbs in the corner of his mouth though she hadn’t given him any cookies. How strange that she had noticed it only now and not when they were sitting next to each other on the sofa. He was tall, his physical presence slightly oppressive.
“You stand on your veranda and your eye stops at the gate,” said Jonas Guave, “and when your eye stops, so do your thoughts.”
Laura wondered how often he would say that.
She was overwhelmed by the urge to open her mouth and laugh, but instead she tried to concentrate on a red spot on Jonas Guave’s chin, an old cut, she thought, the result of careless shaving, perhaps. She smiled at him. What else should she do? After all, it wouldn’t do to laugh. Or to hit him.
When your eye stops, so do your thoughts.
Blah blah blah.
Idofiotov! Poqrosicodkol!
Laura wanted Jonas Guave to go. He was welcome to sell the house, now or in the spring, but she wanted him to go. She didn’t want to explain…She didn’t want to have to explain the closed gate. Laura smiled. It hurt, but she smiled all the same. It was a sort of exercise in self-control: Don’t hit him!
“We keep the gate closed so Yap doesn’t escape and get run over,” she said.
“And Yap is…?” asked Jonas Guave.
“My daughter,” said Laura.
Jonas Guave looked disconcerted again.
“I’m joking,” said Laura. “My daughter’s name is Julia. But I said that already, didn’t I? Yap would be a good name for her, though. But Yap is our dog. Well, it’s Julia’s dog, really. You know how it is. The kids nag you to have a dog, then they get one, and after a week they can’t be bothered to take it for walks and so it sort of became ours, mine and Lars-Eivind’s. Yap is with some friends this week, in the country.”
Jonas Guave nodded. Laura talked. Don’t hit him. Be nice to Jonas Guave. It wasn’t Jonas Guave’s fault that Laura had wanted to go upstairs with him or climb trees with him five minutes before, and now just wanted him to go. Get lost. Laura talked softly. It had started to snow. It was snowing on them. They would be completely covered in snow if they continued to stand here motionless in Laura and Lars-Eivind’s garden. She looked straight at Jonas Guave. The red spot on his chin. Maybe not a cut. Maybe just a little birthmark he had scratched.
“We got him from a shelter. And they warned us…I mean, this is why we keep the gate closed. They warned us. Yap has no traffic sense. He runs out in front of cars. Just like my sister. No traffic sense. She keeps ringing up and asking how to get to places. She’s distinctly helpless. Right now she’s on her way to Sweden to visit our father. He’s dying.”
Laura paused for breath and could see that Jonas Guave would soon have had enough.
“I’m going soon, as well,” she added.
“To Sweden?”
“Yes. I’m going to drive down and visit our father. He’s terribly old now. I may never see him again if I don’t go now. We’re all going at the same time, traveling separately and meeting there. My sisters and I.”
Laura looked at Jonas Guave and laughed. Every morning she plaited her hair and the plait reached almost to her bottom.
“And when I get back home we can sell the house, all right?”
Chapter 34
Laura decided to buy flowers. She would go into town to do some shopping, and she would buy flowers and make everything look nice at home.
Jonas Guave had gone, and now she would spend the rest of the day cooking dinner and surprise Lars-Eivind when he got home late that evening. First she
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