The Journey to the End of the World (Joel Gustafson Stories) by Henning Mankell
Authors: Henning Mankell
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on the bed to wait. Then he got up, took Samuel’s penknife and scraped the chewing gum off the back of the picture.
‘Don’t say anything,’ he said to the woman in the painting.
Then he hung it up again.
He went down the corridor to the toilet.
When he came back he couldn’t be bothered to lie down again.
He tried to improve the repair to the broken handle on Samuel’s suitcase.
In the end it came off altogether.
Just then there was another knock on the door.
Joel leapt to his feet.
Opened the door.
There was a woman standing outside. Wearing a blue jacket.
But Joel recognised her immediately.
Despite the fact that the night before, she had been wearing a green coat when she emerged from the front door of Östgötagatan 32.
8
Joel searched.
He searched frantically. He eventually thought he’d found what he was looking for. Around her eyes. They were similar to his.
But he was staring at her in horror. When he looked back later, he could distinctly remember thinking that this wasn’t how he’d imagined it was going to happen. Meeting Mummy Jenny.
How many times had he experienced this meeting in his imagination? Conjured up the circumstances? He didn’t know. He had pictured them meeting in a street. Or on a beach. Or in the depths of a forest.
But never like this, in a hotel called The Raven, opening a door and expecting to see Samuel standing there.
She had walked into the room and closed the door behind her. Joel was still staring at her.
‘Where is he?’ she asked.
Her voice was dry and tense.
That was also something Joel had wondered about many times. What was his mum’s voice like?
Now he knew. Dry and tense.
‘Samuel isn’t here,’ Joel said.
‘Where is he? When will he be coming?’
Joel decided on the spur of the moment not to tell her the truth. Not to say that Samuel had stomach pains and had gone to the hospital.
‘He’s gone out. I don’t know when he’ll be back.’
Then there was a question he wanted answering right away.
‘Was it you who phoned?’
‘Yes. But I wanted to meet you in person rather than on the telephone.’
Well, that’s one way in which we are similar, at least, Joel thought. I don’t like speaking on the phone either.
She was in the middle of the room now. Joel had backed away towards the window. He was still staring at her all the time. Even so, he wasn’t at all sure that he could really see her. She was a sort of mirage. Something that existed and yet didn’t exist.
She sat down on the very edge of the chair. It struck Joel that she might be just as scared as he was.
‘I don’t know what to say,’ she said, studying her hands.
Joel immediately looked at his.
Silence.
What can I say if she doesn’t know what to say? Joel thought. He’d stopped staring at her now. He was embarrassed instead. He glanced surreptitiously at her as she studied her hands.
He’d always imagined that this occasion would be full of joy. When he met his mum at long last. Not a time for stares and embarrassment.
All the pictures he’d imagined had been a waste of time. Nothing had turned out as he’d expected.
He kept on looking surreptitiously at her. All the time looking for similarities. Her hair was soft and curly. Not tufty like his. Her eyes were blue, the same as his. But she was small in stature. And thin. In a way, she was like Samuel.
Then it occurred to Joel that she was also pretty. If Jenny Rydén really was his mum, he’d been lucky. He had a good-looking mother. The question now was whether she wanted a son looking like Joel.
At that moment she looked up from her hands.
‘I don’t know what I should say. But I suppose I ought to say I’m sorry.’
Her eyes were moist, Joel got a lump in his throat immediately.
She stood up and turned her back on him. She took a handkerchief out of her handbag. Joel recognised it from the previous night.
She turned round again. Now she was smiling. Joel could see that her teeth where
‘Don’t say anything,’ he said to the woman in the painting.
Then he hung it up again.
He went down the corridor to the toilet.
When he came back he couldn’t be bothered to lie down again.
He tried to improve the repair to the broken handle on Samuel’s suitcase.
In the end it came off altogether.
Just then there was another knock on the door.
Joel leapt to his feet.
Opened the door.
There was a woman standing outside. Wearing a blue jacket.
But Joel recognised her immediately.
Despite the fact that the night before, she had been wearing a green coat when she emerged from the front door of Östgötagatan 32.
8
Joel searched.
He searched frantically. He eventually thought he’d found what he was looking for. Around her eyes. They were similar to his.
But he was staring at her in horror. When he looked back later, he could distinctly remember thinking that this wasn’t how he’d imagined it was going to happen. Meeting Mummy Jenny.
How many times had he experienced this meeting in his imagination? Conjured up the circumstances? He didn’t know. He had pictured them meeting in a street. Or on a beach. Or in the depths of a forest.
But never like this, in a hotel called The Raven, opening a door and expecting to see Samuel standing there.
She had walked into the room and closed the door behind her. Joel was still staring at her.
‘Where is he?’ she asked.
Her voice was dry and tense.
That was also something Joel had wondered about many times. What was his mum’s voice like?
Now he knew. Dry and tense.
‘Samuel isn’t here,’ Joel said.
‘Where is he? When will he be coming?’
Joel decided on the spur of the moment not to tell her the truth. Not to say that Samuel had stomach pains and had gone to the hospital.
‘He’s gone out. I don’t know when he’ll be back.’
Then there was a question he wanted answering right away.
‘Was it you who phoned?’
‘Yes. But I wanted to meet you in person rather than on the telephone.’
Well, that’s one way in which we are similar, at least, Joel thought. I don’t like speaking on the phone either.
She was in the middle of the room now. Joel had backed away towards the window. He was still staring at her all the time. Even so, he wasn’t at all sure that he could really see her. She was a sort of mirage. Something that existed and yet didn’t exist.
She sat down on the very edge of the chair. It struck Joel that she might be just as scared as he was.
‘I don’t know what to say,’ she said, studying her hands.
Joel immediately looked at his.
Silence.
What can I say if she doesn’t know what to say? Joel thought. He’d stopped staring at her now. He was embarrassed instead. He glanced surreptitiously at her as she studied her hands.
He’d always imagined that this occasion would be full of joy. When he met his mum at long last. Not a time for stares and embarrassment.
All the pictures he’d imagined had been a waste of time. Nothing had turned out as he’d expected.
He kept on looking surreptitiously at her. All the time looking for similarities. Her hair was soft and curly. Not tufty like his. Her eyes were blue, the same as his. But she was small in stature. And thin. In a way, she was like Samuel.
Then it occurred to Joel that she was also pretty. If Jenny Rydén really was his mum, he’d been lucky. He had a good-looking mother. The question now was whether she wanted a son looking like Joel.
At that moment she looked up from her hands.
‘I don’t know what I should say. But I suppose I ought to say I’m sorry.’
Her eyes were moist, Joel got a lump in his throat immediately.
She stood up and turned her back on him. She took a handkerchief out of her handbag. Joel recognised it from the previous night.
She turned round again. Now she was smiling. Joel could see that her teeth where
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