Bubble in the Bathtub by Jo Nesbø

any sketches behind. He kept everything in his head, and Victor himself was the only one who knew how to configure the bathtub so it would work. And—”
    Juliette suddenly stopped talking because they all heard a definite creaking sound from the hallway outside.
    â€œWha-what’s that sound?” Nilly asked.
    Juliette held out her hand. It held the two blue nose clips. “Quick, put these on and dive.”
    â€œDon’t need to,” Lisa said, demonstrating how shecould pinch her nose shut with her thumb and index finger.
    Juliette opened one of the blue nose clips and released it so that it clipped over Lisa’s nostrils with a little
pop!
    â€œOuch!” Lisa protested.
    Juliette gave Nilly the other nose clip. “Keep them on and a lot will become clear to you.”
    There was a loud knock on the door.
    â€œUnder the water, now!” Juliette whispered, screwing the lid of the soap jar back on and passing it to Lisa.
    â€œBut you have to come too,” Lisa urged.
    â€œNo, I have to stay here.”
    â€œWhat?” Lisa whispered. “Cliché is just going to lock you up again! And we’ll never find Doctor Proctor without your help!”
    There was another knock on the door, louder this time.
    Juliette bent down and kissed first Lisa and then Nilly on the forehead. “Victor said you were two smartkids. And I can already see that he’s right. Hurry up. Find him and come back.”
    They heard an angry shout from the hallway and rapid footsteps, and the next second the door bulged into the room as if someone had just flung themselves against it. The door quit bulging, and they heard the creaking of the floorboards again, as if someone were taking another running start.
    Lisa and Nilly took deep breaths and dove under the soap bubbles.
    Then they were in a watery twilight where there was total silence.
    Nilly could feel Lisa’s hand holding on to his own as he concentrated. Naturally what he wanted to do most of all was travel back to the Moulin Rouge to that girl who had thought he was so cute, but you couldn’t travel back to the same time and place more than once. So instead he had to think about … about … where were they supposed to be going again? That’s right,the Provence mountains. July … 3, 1969! More specifically Inn … Inn … what was that place that Juliette had said again? Darn it, it started with Inn! Inn … Inn …
    Soon he couldn’t hold his breath anymore.
    Inn … Inn …
    Must have air!
    Inn … DARN IT!
    Nilly stood up in the tub, gasping for air.
    He was standing in a bathtub in the middle of a meadow full of colorful flowers. The sun was shining, bees were buzzing, and birds were chirping all around him, and there were extremely tall mountains in every direction. At the other end of the meadow he saw a bunch of people sitting along the edge of a road in folding chairs waving French flags as they said cheers and clinked their wineglasses together and cheered on bicyclists as they passed. It was a wonderfully beautiful summer’s day out in the countryside. There were really only two things that concerned Nilly. One was that Lisa wasn’t anywhere to be seen. The second was that a bull with horns the size of a Congolese tse-tse elephant’s tusks was heading toward him at full speed.

Tour de France
    THE BULL WAS the size of a small tractor but had a significantly faster maximum speed. Nilly realized that even if he ran as fast as his tiny legs could carry him, the bull was still going to overtake him. The ground beneath him shook and he could hear the animal’s terrible snorting. Bees and butterflies dartedout of the bull’s path in fear as Nilly raced through the flower-filled meadow that just seconds ago had seemed so idyllic and peaceful.
    â€œHelp,” Nilly cried, but only very softly, because he knew that no one could help him, and that he should save his breath.