you listened to, and girls liked Tobias Iversen. Not just because he was fit, but because he was a really nice guy. Then it didn’t matter that his football boots had only one stripe and the soles had holes in them.
The Christian girls. The rumours had started the moment new people had moved into the old farm near Litjønna which had been empty for a long time. They had done up the place; it looked completely different now, and everyone thought that was highly suspicious. Some of the locals thought the newcomers belonged to Brunstad Christian Church, but that turned out to be wrong; apparently, they used to belong to Brunstad Christian Church, but they had decided that they did not agree with it, so they had started their own religion, or whatever you would call it. Everyone thought they knew something, but no one really knew the full story, only that the children who lived there did not go to school and that it was very Christian and all about God and stuff. Tobias was pleased they had come; he had twigged quite early on that whenever people made comments about his clothes or about poverty in general, all he had to do was turn the conversation round to the Christian girls and, hey presto!, everyone forgot about designer labels. Once, after PE, he had even lied about having seen them, just to shut up the two new boys from Oslo, and it had worked a treat. He had made up a story about the girls wearing strange clothes and having almost dead eyes, and how they had chased him away when they spotted him. It had been a dumb thing to do, obviously, because he didn’t know the Christian girls personally, and had no opinion about them, but what else could he do?
Tobias put down the knife and looked at his watch. His brother had been gone for quite a while now, and he started to worry. Not that they had to get home: they had no curfew, no one noticed whether they were in or out. Tobias could only hope that there would be something in the fridge so that he could give his brother some dinner. He had taught himself most household tasks. He could change bed linen, use the washing machine, pack his brother’s schoolbag; he could manage most things really, except for buying food – he didn’t want to spend his own money on food, he didn’t think that was fair – but most of the time there was something in the kitchen cupboards, instant soup or a bit of bread and jam. They usually managed.
He stuck the arrow into the ground next to the tree stump and got up. If they were to have time to hunt bison up near Rundvann, they would have to get a move on. He liked having his brother in bed by nine o’clock, at least on school days. Both for his brother’s benefit and for his own, they shared the attic room, and he enjoyed the few hours he had to himself by the reading lamp once his brother had fallen asleep.
‘Torben?’ he called out.
Tobias started walking through the forest in the direction in which the arrow and his brother had disappeared. The wind had increased slightly and the leaves rustled around him. He wasn’t scared, he had been out here alone many times, and in stronger winds and worse weather; he loved how nature took over and shook everything around him, but his brother scared easily.
‘Torben? Where are you?’
Once more, he felt bad about the things he had said about the Christian girls. He had lied, invented stories in the boys’ changing room. He decided to go on an expedition soon, like the boys in Lord of the Flies who had no adults around. Sneak out, pack some provisions and his torch, make a trip up to Litjønna. He knew the way. See for himself if it was true what they said about the new farm and the fence and everything else. ‘Exciting and educational’: now he remembered the phrase his former Norwegian teacher had been so fond of; everything they were going to do was always exciting and educational, so they had to sit still and listen, but then it never was, it was never exciting and it couldn’t have
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