said.
‘Hiccup,’ said Edmund. ‘You smell like shit.’
Cancer-Treblinka … I started to think, but I had already forgotten where Edmund’s father went.
‘Maybe we should just have a swim?’ I said.
‘You’re preaching to the converted,’ said Edmund.
We swam until the sun had fully set and the midges started to buzz like mad at the edge of the shore. Ewa Kaludis and Henry were on the dock, testing it out, and Ewa said that it seemed to be a sterling dock.
A sterling dock. I floated on my back out in the water and my entire body blushed. And wondered what would happen tonight.
‘Exactly,’ said Edmund and sprayed water like a seal. ‘Built to last, hiccup. No more, no less.’
Ewa Kaludis laughed.
‘You’re a funny one, Edmund,’ she said.
Then she linked arms with Henry and they started to walk back toward the house.
My brother Henry and Ewa Kaludis. She hadn’t swum all day, even though it had been so warm. Who knew why? Maybe she didn’t have a swimming costume with her.
But she did try out the dock. Sterling work.
11
Before my mother got sick with cancer she said a number of strange things. It was in the weeks right before the diagnosis; maybe she sensed misfortune coming and wanted to make sure she had imparted some of her wisdom. A few words for the road before it was too late, I suppose.
‘You’re the dove, Erik,’ she would say, looking at me with her mild, watery eyes. ‘Henry is the hawk; he always manages to come out on top. But you, you we have to be careful with, you’re the one who has to watch his step.’
Those exact words came to mind when it started to sink in that Henry was involved with Ewa Kaludis. That he was actually with her. I mulled over the idea of the dove and the hawk and, thinking of Berra Albertsson, reflected on how lucky it was for Henry that he was a bird of prey. Because when Super-Berra found out what was going on between Ewa and my brother, well, there were sure to be consequences. That was my view, at least, but I knew what a miserable amateur I was when it came to navigating love’s labyrinths.
And Edmund wasn’t any more skilled. Not at all.
Love is like a train, I’d heard Benny’s mum say once. It comes and goes. Maybe there was something to it, but Benny’s mother was no expert in matters of the heart.
But I didn’t really think about it; you couldn’t quite put words to it. My brother and Ewa Kaludis. Kim Novak on the red Puch. Her breast against my shoulder in the classroom. Berra Albertsson and red-faced Mulle in Lackaparken.
That was more than enough already.
Anyway, we didn’t hear much that night. Nothing that suggested that they were lying there, doing it. They had the tape deck on low; Ewa laughed now and again: it had a sort of cooing sound. Henry’s hoarse guffaw rose through the floorboards a few times, too. That’s it. Maybe they were just sitting and talking: what did I know? That might be what you did sometimes. When you weren’t in the mood.
Still, Edmund and I stayed awake in the dark. We lay completely still in our beds and pretended to be sleeping until we heard Ewa and Henry say goodbye out on the lawn. A minute passed and then the Puch fired up in the clearing. Edmund sighed deeply and turned toward the wall. I looked at my self-illuminating watch. It was half two; it had probably started to get light outside, but we had the blinds pulled down as usual.
Cancer-Treblinka-Love-Fuck-Death, I thought despondently.
And Edmund’s dad. And Henry and Ewa Kaludis. No, that was too heavy, as I said. Not worth thinking about.
It was nothing for a fragile dove to trouble his fried-noodle head with.
‘It’s a sensitive situation, you understand. Sensitive.’
Henry looking earnestly at us across the dining table. First me, then Edmund. We looked back at him equally earnestly and each swallowed a lump of macaroni. It’s much easier to appear earnest and to inspire confidence when your gob isn’t stuffed with
‘Hiccup,’ said Edmund. ‘You smell like shit.’
Cancer-Treblinka … I started to think, but I had already forgotten where Edmund’s father went.
‘Maybe we should just have a swim?’ I said.
‘You’re preaching to the converted,’ said Edmund.
We swam until the sun had fully set and the midges started to buzz like mad at the edge of the shore. Ewa Kaludis and Henry were on the dock, testing it out, and Ewa said that it seemed to be a sterling dock.
A sterling dock. I floated on my back out in the water and my entire body blushed. And wondered what would happen tonight.
‘Exactly,’ said Edmund and sprayed water like a seal. ‘Built to last, hiccup. No more, no less.’
Ewa Kaludis laughed.
‘You’re a funny one, Edmund,’ she said.
Then she linked arms with Henry and they started to walk back toward the house.
My brother Henry and Ewa Kaludis. She hadn’t swum all day, even though it had been so warm. Who knew why? Maybe she didn’t have a swimming costume with her.
But she did try out the dock. Sterling work.
11
Before my mother got sick with cancer she said a number of strange things. It was in the weeks right before the diagnosis; maybe she sensed misfortune coming and wanted to make sure she had imparted some of her wisdom. A few words for the road before it was too late, I suppose.
‘You’re the dove, Erik,’ she would say, looking at me with her mild, watery eyes. ‘Henry is the hawk; he always manages to come out on top. But you, you we have to be careful with, you’re the one who has to watch his step.’
Those exact words came to mind when it started to sink in that Henry was involved with Ewa Kaludis. That he was actually with her. I mulled over the idea of the dove and the hawk and, thinking of Berra Albertsson, reflected on how lucky it was for Henry that he was a bird of prey. Because when Super-Berra found out what was going on between Ewa and my brother, well, there were sure to be consequences. That was my view, at least, but I knew what a miserable amateur I was when it came to navigating love’s labyrinths.
And Edmund wasn’t any more skilled. Not at all.
Love is like a train, I’d heard Benny’s mum say once. It comes and goes. Maybe there was something to it, but Benny’s mother was no expert in matters of the heart.
But I didn’t really think about it; you couldn’t quite put words to it. My brother and Ewa Kaludis. Kim Novak on the red Puch. Her breast against my shoulder in the classroom. Berra Albertsson and red-faced Mulle in Lackaparken.
That was more than enough already.
Anyway, we didn’t hear much that night. Nothing that suggested that they were lying there, doing it. They had the tape deck on low; Ewa laughed now and again: it had a sort of cooing sound. Henry’s hoarse guffaw rose through the floorboards a few times, too. That’s it. Maybe they were just sitting and talking: what did I know? That might be what you did sometimes. When you weren’t in the mood.
Still, Edmund and I stayed awake in the dark. We lay completely still in our beds and pretended to be sleeping until we heard Ewa and Henry say goodbye out on the lawn. A minute passed and then the Puch fired up in the clearing. Edmund sighed deeply and turned toward the wall. I looked at my self-illuminating watch. It was half two; it had probably started to get light outside, but we had the blinds pulled down as usual.
Cancer-Treblinka-Love-Fuck-Death, I thought despondently.
And Edmund’s dad. And Henry and Ewa Kaludis. No, that was too heavy, as I said. Not worth thinking about.
It was nothing for a fragile dove to trouble his fried-noodle head with.
‘It’s a sensitive situation, you understand. Sensitive.’
Henry looking earnestly at us across the dining table. First me, then Edmund. We looked back at him equally earnestly and each swallowed a lump of macaroni. It’s much easier to appear earnest and to inspire confidence when your gob isn’t stuffed with
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