The Journey to the End of the World (Joel Gustafson Stories) by Henning Mankell Page A

white and regular. Not like his own, that seemed to point in various directions.
    ‘I wish Samuel was here,’ she said. ‘But at the same time, I’m glad he’s not.’
    She sat down on the chair again. And looked at him. All the time she was slowly shaking her head.
    Joel broke into a sweat. She doesn’t like me, he thought. She’d expected something completely different.
    That made him feel angry. He didn’t know where the anger came from, but he had no say in the matter. He suddenly wanted to tell her about how it had been. All those years. All those thoughts, dreams, fantasies.
    She interrupted his train of thought.
    ‘You are so big,’ she said. ‘But you were so little then.’
    ‘It was Elinor who sent Samuel a letter,’ said Joel. ‘But we couldn’t find a grocer’s shop.’
    ‘I stopped working there when it closed down,’ she said. ‘But how did you manage to find me at Autumn Light?’
    Joel shrugged. But he said nothing.
    ‘When Arne came and told me you’d been there, I couldn’t understand what he was talking about. I thought he was making it up. But when he said that you spoke with a northern accent, I realised it must be you. No matter how unlikely it seemed. And he remembered the name of the hotel. The Raven. So I rang. And now I’m here.’
    ‘I’ve just left school,’ said Joel. ‘It was that letter from Elinor. Samuel thought we ought to come here. So that I could find out what you looked like.’
    He regretted that last sentence the moment he’d said it. But she wasn’t annoyed. Instead, she stood up.
    ‘Can’t we go out? It’s so hot in here. And I want to talk to you on your own, before Samuel comes back. I don’t even know if I want to see him.’
    ‘Why not?’
    ‘I don’t know. So much of this is hard to cope with.’
    ‘I think he wants to see you.’
    ‘Really?’
    ‘Yes.’
    She shook her head again.
    ‘Let’s go out,’ she said.
    Joel looked at the Celestine .
    ‘This is for you,’ he said. ‘From Samuel as well.’
    He pointed.
    ‘I remember that,’ she said slowly. ‘It was in the kitchen.’
    ‘Yes,’ said Joel. ‘It’s always been on the kitchen wall. And it’s for you.’
    He produced the cardboard box they’d kept it in, that had been stashed away under the bed.
    ‘It’s for you,’ he said again.
    ‘Why should it be for me?’
    ‘We couldn’t think of a better present for you,’ said Joel. ‘Samuel thought you should have an elk steak. But I didn’t agree. And so this is what we agreed on.’
    ‘An elk steak?’
    ‘Yes – but to get one at this time of year Samuel would have had to go poaching.’
    She burst out laughing.
    ‘Nobody but Samuel would ever have thought of an elk steak,’ she said. ‘Nobody but him.’
    Joel wasn’t sure how he ought to interpret what she had said. Was it positive or negative? He didn’t know.
    She suddenly took hold of his arm. It was the first time she’d touched him. The first time he’d felt her hand. He’d been so little all that time ago that he had no memories of it at all.
    It also made him feel a bit scared. Was this really his mother, standing there in front of him? This Jenny Rydén? Or could it be somebody just pretending to be his mum?
    ‘There’s such a lot I’d like to explain,’ she said. ‘I don’t know where to start. And I don’t even know if I can.’
    ‘It doesn’t matter,’ said Joel. ‘That’s life.’
    ‘That’s what Samuel used to say: “That’s life.”’
    Joel seemed to recall that it was really Geegee who’d said that. But perhaps it was something everybody said when they were grown up.
    That’s life.
    She was still holding on to his arm, and more or less whisked him to the door. She was holding the cardboard box in her other hand.
    ‘I can carry that for you,’ said Joel.
    She gave him the box.
    Joel locked the door. Jenny Rydén pressed the button for the lift.
    I’m about to travel in a lift with my mum, Joel thought. If the lift crashes