Юхан Теорин - The Voices Beyond

The shore was just as grey as the water; the sun had yet to reach its summer strength. There wasn’t a soul in sight along the coastline, and no sign of a shipwreck out in the Sound. The sea was as calm as a mirror — but, suddenly, he saw something moving down there, a little coal-black head swimming along by the shore.

Behind him, Jonas stirred.

‘Good morning,’ Gerlof said.

‘Is he there?’ The boy’s voice was full of anxiety.

‘No, there’s no one out there at all,’ Gerlof said quietly. ‘All I can see is a mink; he’s probably searching for birds’ eggs.’

A few gulls were circling above the shore, uttering shrill warning cries. They had also spotted the mink, and soon the first bird came swooping down towards the water, using its sharp beak as a weapon. The mink quickly disappeared beneath the waves as the gull attacked, but popped up again a short distance away and headed towards the shore, where the rocks provided some protection. It emerged from the water, shook itself with a certain elegance, then slunk away like a wriggling black eel.

Gerlof smiled at the boy. ‘How are you feeling this morning? Better?’

Jonas nodded, but his expression was strained and frightened. ‘Can you see anybody?’

‘No,’ Gerlof said again. ‘And there’s no ship either.’

He noticed an old drawing pad on the little bookcase. One of the grandchildren must have left their paper and crayons. The pad gave him an idea.

‘Shall we try to work out what the boat looked like?’ he said. ‘You can describe it to me, and I’ll draw it.’

‘OK,’ Jonas said.

Gerlof picked up a black crayon and drew the outline of an Öland fishing boat. He added a small wheelhouse and a short mast in the prow. ‘Was it a fishing boat? One like this?’

‘No. I could smell fish on the deck, but it was longer.’

Gerlof drew a tugboat, with a reinforced prow and stern. ‘Like this?’

‘No... even longer than that,’ the boy said.

Gerlof screwed up the piece of paper and made a third attempt. This time he drew a bigger ship, with several cargo hatches. ‘How about this?’

Jonas nodded silently, and Gerlof felt quite pleased with himself.

‘And what was it made of? Wood or metal? Did you notice any rivets in the hull when you climbed aboard?’

Jonas thought for a moment, then nodded again.

‘Good, so it was metal... What could you see on deck? Any kind of structure?’

Jonas pointed. ‘There was a little kind of hut here at the front... and a bigger one at the back.’

Gerlof started drawing and asked another question. ‘Did you notice any Plimsoll lines on the freeboard?’

The boy looked at him blankly, so Gerlof went on: ‘It doesn’t matter... Were there any masts on the ship?’

Jonas closed his eyes. ‘I can’t remember. There might have been a little one right at the front. And there was a big hatch in the middle.’

Gerlof drew a thick line to mark the position of the hatch, then asked, ‘And where were these men who were dying?’

‘They were lying there. And there. And there.’

‘And the others?’

‘The man with the axe was standing here.’ Jonas pointed. ‘And there was an old man with white hair up in the wheelhouse... there.’

Gerlof marked each spot with a black cross.

‘Did the ship have a name? Did you notice a name on the bow?’

Jonas nodded. ‘It said “ Elia ”.’

‘ Elia? As in the man who raised the dead in Zarephath?’

The boy stared at him, and Gerlof realized that Jonas had yet to be confirmed. Then again, children probably didn’t read the Bible when they were preparing for their confirmation these days; they probably gave each other massages and sang happy songs.

He wrote the name Elia on the bow of the ship. Good. Then he rolled up the drawing and nodded. ‘Well done, Jonas. Shall we go and have some breakfast? It’s on me.’

He didn’t get a smile in return, but the boy nodded and got to his feet.

The day after her second stint as a DJ, Lisa was woken by a noise outside the caravan. Someone was hammering metal. She sat up in bed and looked at the clock. Ten past ten. Her grandmother had always slept until at least ten o’clock in her old age. If I get up any earlier, the day is much too long, she used to say, making it clear how tedious she found life after the death of Lisa’s grandfather.

Lisa’s life was far from tedious.

The night before, Lady Summertime had almost got caught. Almost. A rich kid who had had far too much to drink and had been throwing his money around all night had placed his sweaty hand on hers just as she was about to remove his wallet from his jacket pocket.

Fuck! she had thought.

But a second later she had let go of the wallet (which was very fat, unfortunately) and allowed it to slip back into his pocket. The boy had stuck his tongue in her ear, then turned back to the bar, as drunk as a skunk. He hadn’t noticed a thing.

Lisa got up and peered through the window at the glorious morning. The sky was bright blue and she could hear the rushing of the waves. The only slightly depressing note was struck by the maypole, abandoned over on the festival site and adorned with flowers that had wilted in the sunshine.

She noticed an old man with white hair over by a caravan that was listing to one side. He was bent over a jack, trying to right it. That explained the noise. She turned away from the window and decided it was time for breakfast.

When she had eaten, she picked up her mobile and called the apartment in Huddinge. It rang out twelve times before a hoarse, weary voice replied, ‘Hello?’

Silas. It was quarter to eleven — early in the morning for him.

‘Hi, it’s me.’

Silas sighed. Lisa could tell from his breathing that he was clean today. Tired, but clean.

‘Hi.’

Then there was silence, apart from the sound of breathing.

‘How are you?’ Lisa asked.

‘OK. Thirsty.’

‘Well, have a drink then.’

‘There’s nothing in.’

‘Drink tap water.’

‘I don’t want to... There’s arsenic in tap water.’

Silence.

‘I’ve sent you a letter,’ Lisa said.

‘With papers?’

‘Yes. Lots of papers.’

‘Good... Will you be sending more letters this summer?’

‘I think so,’ Lisa replied. ‘It looks that way.’

‘Great.’

Silas didn’t say thank you, but he sounded pleased.

The conversation didn’t last much longer, because Silas was on his way out. He didn’t say where he was going. As usual.

Lisa switched off her mobile and sat motionless in the caravan for a little while. Eventually, she picked up an empty plastic container and went out into the sunshine to fetch some water. As she was standing by the taps, the door of one of the neighbouring caravans among the dog roses opened. Lisa recognized the young woman who stepped out; she was the girl who had been at the midsummer dance with the Kloss family.

Paulina, wasn’t that her name? They nodded at one another.

‘Morning,’ Lisa said. ‘So you live here, too?’

Paulina nodded again.

‘Have you been here long?’

‘Two weeks... Summer job.’

‘Same as me,’ Lisa said. ‘I’m working here through July. Will you be going back to Poland after that?’

Paulina shook her head. ‘Not Poland. I come from Lietuva.’

‘Lietuva?’ Lisa thought for a moment. ‘That’s Lithuania, isn’t it?’

‘Yes... Lithuania.’

Paulina didn’t say anything else. Lisa gazed at Paulina’s caravan; it was smaller and even older than hers, and much shabbier. It resembled a cracked egg more than anything. She suddenly felt privileged, and slightly embarrassed.