Read Online Shadows in the Twilight by Henning Mankell - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Henning Mankell
Tags: english
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possible! Why wasn't it possible?
Joel sighed and dropped the diary on the bed in front
of him.
Perhaps that was the way you became a grown-up?
By realising that there was no such thing as a day that
could never be changed?
Perhaps that's why so many grown-ups looked so
tired and miserable? Because they knew that's the way
things are?
He jumped impatiently off the bed and lay stretched
out on the floor, looking at the maps he had cut up. He
tried to think a bit more about the geography game. But
that wasn't much fun either. Then he lay on his back and
stared up at the ceiling. He traced the outlines of the
damp patches with his eyes.
He suddenly felt as if he were lying underneath the
bus again.
Just think if he'd died!
He wouldn't have been able to smell the awful
stench in Simon Windstorm's house any more. Or to sit
with his dad, Samuel, at the kitchen table and sail the
seven seas.
He would never have fallen asleep again, never
woken up.
He didn't like those thoughts. They were scurrying
around in his head like ants. He sat up and thought he
ought to go to bed now.
What he would have liked to do most of all would
have been to give up all thoughts of doing a good deed.
Gertrud could find herself a man without his help, if she
wanted one. She could brick herself into the church
tower and wait for somebody to climb up to her. . .
Curse that miracle, he thought.
In any case, surely it should be Eklund who ought to
do a good deed?
He was the one who caused it all, and was lucky
enough not to have killed a human being with his bus.
But deep down, Joel knew that he was the one who
would have to do a good deed. So he might as well get
it over with as soon as possible.
He clambered back onto his bed and started writing in
his diary:
' Today I, Joel Gustafson, who don't yet have a nickname, have decided that Gertrud must have a man. Finding one for her will be my good deed in return for the Miracle. I have chosen David or Rolf to become her husband. All I have to do now is to establish which one of them is most suitable .'
He read through what he had written. That would do.
It was more than enough.
'Shouldn't you be going to bed now, Joel?' shouted
Samuel from his room. Joel could hear that he had
adjusted the radio so that there was no programme, only
static. His dad used to do that when he wanted to listen
to the sea.
'In a minute,' Joel shouted in reply. 'I've started.'
Although the town they lived in was very small, he
had never seen David and Rolf before. He didn't know
their surnames, where they lived or what their work was.
What would he do if they lived a hundred miles away?
I'll have to start tomorrow, he thought. I'll ask Otto.
He knows everybody's name.
He went to the kitchen and replaced the diary in the Celestine's showcase. Then he got undressed, brushed
his teeth and settled down in bed.
At first it was so cold that he had to tense every
muscle in his body. But it gradually grew warmer under
the covers.
'I'm in bed now,' he shouted to Samuel.
His dad came shuffling into Joel's room in his slippers.
'Dad,' said Joel, 'have you ever had a nickname?'
Samuel looked at him in surprise.
'Why do you ask that?'
'I just wondered.'
Samuel shook his head.
'When I was a sailor I suppose there were a few shipmates
who called me Sam,' he said. 'But you can hardly
call that a nickname.'
'Has Mum got a nickname?' Joel asked.
He was surprised by the question. It just came tumbling
out of its own accord.
Samuel looked serious.
'No,' he said. 'She was called Jenny. Nothing else.'
Joel sat bolt upright.
'That's wrong,' he said.
'What's wrong?' asked Samuel in surprise.
'It's not "she was called Jenny",' he said. 'She is called Jenny.'
Samuel nodded slowly.
'Yes,' he said. 'She is called Jenny. You're right. Go
to sleep now.'
Samuel stroked him lightly over the cheek, and went
back to his own room, then into the kitchen. He left the
kitchen door ajar. A narrow strip of light shone onto
Joel's
Joel sighed and dropped the diary on the bed in front
of him.
Perhaps that was the way you became a grown-up?
By realising that there was no such thing as a day that
could never be changed?
Perhaps that's why so many grown-ups looked so
tired and miserable? Because they knew that's the way
things are?
He jumped impatiently off the bed and lay stretched
out on the floor, looking at the maps he had cut up. He
tried to think a bit more about the geography game. But
that wasn't much fun either. Then he lay on his back and
stared up at the ceiling. He traced the outlines of the
damp patches with his eyes.
He suddenly felt as if he were lying underneath the
bus again.
Just think if he'd died!
He wouldn't have been able to smell the awful
stench in Simon Windstorm's house any more. Or to sit
with his dad, Samuel, at the kitchen table and sail the
seven seas.
He would never have fallen asleep again, never
woken up.
He didn't like those thoughts. They were scurrying
around in his head like ants. He sat up and thought he
ought to go to bed now.
What he would have liked to do most of all would
have been to give up all thoughts of doing a good deed.
Gertrud could find herself a man without his help, if she
wanted one. She could brick herself into the church
tower and wait for somebody to climb up to her. . .
Curse that miracle, he thought.
In any case, surely it should be Eklund who ought to
do a good deed?
He was the one who caused it all, and was lucky
enough not to have killed a human being with his bus.
But deep down, Joel knew that he was the one who
would have to do a good deed. So he might as well get
it over with as soon as possible.
He clambered back onto his bed and started writing in
his diary:
' Today I, Joel Gustafson, who don't yet have a nickname, have decided that Gertrud must have a man. Finding one for her will be my good deed in return for the Miracle. I have chosen David or Rolf to become her husband. All I have to do now is to establish which one of them is most suitable .'
He read through what he had written. That would do.
It was more than enough.
'Shouldn't you be going to bed now, Joel?' shouted
Samuel from his room. Joel could hear that he had
adjusted the radio so that there was no programme, only
static. His dad used to do that when he wanted to listen
to the sea.
'In a minute,' Joel shouted in reply. 'I've started.'
Although the town they lived in was very small, he
had never seen David and Rolf before. He didn't know
their surnames, where they lived or what their work was.
What would he do if they lived a hundred miles away?
I'll have to start tomorrow, he thought. I'll ask Otto.
He knows everybody's name.
He went to the kitchen and replaced the diary in the Celestine's showcase. Then he got undressed, brushed
his teeth and settled down in bed.
At first it was so cold that he had to tense every
muscle in his body. But it gradually grew warmer under
the covers.
'I'm in bed now,' he shouted to Samuel.
His dad came shuffling into Joel's room in his slippers.
'Dad,' said Joel, 'have you ever had a nickname?'
Samuel looked at him in surprise.
'Why do you ask that?'
'I just wondered.'
Samuel shook his head.
'When I was a sailor I suppose there were a few shipmates
who called me Sam,' he said. 'But you can hardly
call that a nickname.'
'Has Mum got a nickname?' Joel asked.
He was surprised by the question. It just came tumbling
out of its own accord.
Samuel looked serious.
'No,' he said. 'She was called Jenny. Nothing else.'
Joel sat bolt upright.
'That's wrong,' he said.
'What's wrong?' asked Samuel in surprise.
'It's not "she was called Jenny",' he said. 'She is called Jenny.'
Samuel nodded slowly.
'Yes,' he said. 'She is called Jenny. You're right. Go
to sleep now.'
Samuel stroked him lightly over the cheek, and went
back to his own room, then into the kitchen. He left the
kitchen door ajar. A narrow strip of light shone onto
Joel's
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