Margit Sandemo - The Ice People 31 - The Ferryman

“Ghost or spirit,” Sander answered. “But a poltergeist isn’t a ghost, it’s a physical phenomenon. A force.”

They looked at Benedikte, puzzled, as she listened to the racket coming from inside the room in bewilderment.

All three of them went closer to the door.

“What an idiot I’ve been,” the sheriff said, “I didn’t notice that the table legs had lions’ feet.”

“Well, it wasn’t easy to see in that crammed room,” said Benedikte absentmindedly.

The table, which at the moment was standing by the door, was circular with a central pillar from which extended three legs ending in feet in the shape of lions’ paws with claws. They considered the distance up to the mark on the wall.

“Not a bad jump for a lion,” Sveg said. “Do you really believe that the table flew up there?”

“That’s nothing for a poltergeist,” Sander said. “But what is it that worries you so much, Benedikte?”

She guided them to a more peaceful area of the room. “I don’t quite understand this. You see, poltergeists are usually associated with an uncommonly strong tension. There are few people in this world that can trigger enormous tension of the kind to be found in this room. That’s when the phenomenon of the poltergeist comes into play.”

“That’s it, then!” Sander said as he looked at Benedikte with interested, sparkling eyes. “Little Sidsel!”

“Yes, that’s what I thought. But as you can see, even though she isn’t here any more the racket is continuing. You see, I’ve always sensed that there is an alien force here – and I’m not referring to the poltergeist.”

“Never mind about that. How do we stop this horror?”

“As it didn’t stop when Sidsel left we have to look for the source. It must be in here.”

“It’s best to protect oneself,” the sheriff said, pulling his jacket over his head. “But the phenomenon started last night, didn’t it?”

“Yes, I don’t think the aunts would have tolerated having their family treasures completely destroyed,” Sander said. “So it would seem that it must have something to do with the girl. By the way, she forgot her little jacket, it’s lying on a chair.”

“Her jacket?” Benedikte said with watchful eagerness. “We’ve got to get it out! Ouch!”

A chair had been hurled at her leg and it stung. Sander quickly grabbed the jacket.

“Come, let’s go out to the verandah,” he said.

They followed him. Behind them there was a sudden and complete silence.

“Well, that explains it! It was the jacket.”

“So the racket will continue, then, no matter where we go with that jacket, won’t it?”

“No, I don’t think so. It was the room that contained such strong tension. I don’t know why and it’s insignificant now,” she said. “What’s important is that it was the jacket that triggered the tension.”

They walked out onto the wobbly verandah and sat down on the steps that led to the abandoned garden. The twilight of the summer evening was bewitching, it was hard to discern what was what. But Sveg had brought one of the lanterns and they studied the jacket under its light.

“An ordinary little child’s jacket,” Sander said. “Of good quality and fairly new, I should think.”

Sensibly, he began searching the pockets, first one and then the other. His hand stopped. Then he pulled something out.

“Look at this! What is it?”

“A big coin!” said Sveg. “No, there’s a hole at the edge ...”

Benedikte held out her hand to touch it. Frightened, she pulled it back.

“It burnt me,” she whispered.

They looked at her quizzically. Sander held up the object as Sveg shone the light of the lantern on it.

“It looks like a kind of medallion,” Sander said. “Or an amulet.”He turned it over. “Here’s a pattern ... what does it mean?”

Both he and the sheriff started.

“Haven’t I seen that pattern before?” Sveg said ominously.

“Yes, they are the same symbols as the ones that were carved into the dead man’s back!” Sander answered.

“So there seems to be a connection here! Between the discovery of the dead body and the haunting that’s been going on in this awful house.”

“No,” said Benedikte. “The fact that the amulet got into the house was just a coincidence. The question is where Sidsel found it.”

“You’re right,” said Sander, and Benedikte reflected on what a fantastic feeling it was that she was sitting right there next to him as he discussed the matter with her as though she were someone who could be relied on! And that it didn’t mean anything that she was hopelessly ugly and clumsy.

“We must get hold of Sidsel.”

“She’ll be asleep by now,” the sheriff objected. “We’ll have to wait until tomorrow morning.”

“Yes,” Benedikte nodded in agreement. “And I would like to take a closer look at another ghostly phenomenon.”

“And what is that?”

“The footsteps on the floor above us.”

She stopped herself. She couldn’t tell these men what Sidsel said she had heard.

“You’re right,” the sheriff said as he got up. “What do you think is up there?”

“I don’t know. I only know that this house has an unusually gloomy atmosphere.”

“I could have told you that myself and I’m no expert on the topic. But how do you intend to get up there? Fly?”

“No, she doesn’t need to do that,” Sander interposed. “I saw the house from the outside while it was still light. There is a randomly placed window next to the kitchen and on the first floor there is another one that is similar, diagonally above the first. I think there must be another staircase.”

“If that staircase is in the same condition as this one, I won’t be climbing it,” said the sheriff.

Benedikte recalled the nasty stairwell and shuddered. “No. You must stay down here and keep the aunts at bay. And should I need your help ...”

“But you can’t possibly go up there alone. Are you mad, girl? Sander here will accompany you while I keep an eye on the shrews.”

“No,” Benedikte began passionately. She didn’t want him there, for what if she were to discover something ... indecent? But what sort of indecency could there possibly be on an empty floor? She finally gave in. She suddenly realized she didn’t feel like going up there alone.

“But should you need my help, give me a shout,” said Sheriff Sveg. “Even though I’m not very good at arresting ghosts.”

Benedikte looked at him, trembling. She couldn’t help thinking that the whole thing was getting slightly too complicated for her dazed senses.

It didn’t help that Sander misinterpreted her insecurity and placed his hand on her shoulder in order to console her. That sort of thing came naturally to him. He had grown up in a family in which physical contact, hugs and kisses and light caresses, were part of the daily routine. Benedikte hadn’t. Back home at Linden Avenue, everyone was deeply attached to one another but they seldom expressed it except in the form of warm and sincere glances or through acts of kindness. They didn’t touch one another very often, only on special occasions when they were saying farewell or expressing gratitude.

That was why Sander’s touch totally stunned her, and she was unable to distinguish between level-headed thoughts and high-flying romantic dreams.

He touched me! His hand rested on my shoulder and back, I can still feel it through my dress, like a warm, heartfelt expression of love on my body. He put his arm around me! He likes me, he must!

Or perhaps not? Perhaps he just feels sorry for me. Yes, that’s probably it. But the memory of his hand on my shoulder is one that no one can ever take from me. It will remain with me always.