Reif Larsen - I Am Radar

As they approached, a figure emerged from the shack. He was carrying a box in his arms.

“Halt!” called Radar. “Who goes there?”

Who goes there? What was this, Medieval Times?

“It’s me!” said the man.

Radar peered into the darkness. The voice, familiar.

“Who’s me ?”

“Lars.”

“Lars?” Radar sighed. He put the coatrack down in the middle of the grass. “What’re you doing here?”

“You know him?” said Charlene.

Lars approached, box in hand.

“I’m terribly sorry to barge in on you like this. As you can see, we’re in a bit of a rush.”

“What is that?” said Radar, pointing at the box.

“Well. . After you left, Otik and I had a little. . tête-à-tête. And we agreed that, despite the circumstances, all of the work we’ve done up until this point — including that by your father — really deserves to see the light of day. And it’s true this ship that leaves. . well, now it’s this morning. . this ship could really be our only chance for a long time. So I—” He stopped himself. “ Apologies . You must be Charlene Radmanovic.” He put down the box and held out his hand. “Lars Røed-Larsen.”

Charlene, who was still holding the poker with two hands, did not return the handshake.

“You know my husband?” she said.

“Kermin’s been a longtime colleague, hero, and mentor of mine,” said Lars. “You and I have actually met once, long ago. In Norway. I was ten at the time.”

Charlene blinked, squinted. “That was you? The blond boy?”

“No doubt I was probably up to some mischief when you saw me.”

“Lars and I met tonight,” said Radar. “At Xanadu. They’ve been working with Kermin on a show.”

“Kirkenesferda,” Charlene said slowly.

“Wait — you know about them?” said Radar.

“I’ve lived with the man for thirty-five years. Some things you can’t keep secret forever.”

Otik appeared in the doorway of the shack.

“Hey!” he hissed. “What are you doing? There is like eight hundred fifty-five more birds!”

“Otik,” said Lars. “Come out and say hello.”

“What is this?” said Otik. “We need to move!” He ducked back inside.

Lars held up his hands. “And that’s Otik,” he said.

“I know Otik,” said Charlene. “Has he had his heart attack today?”

“Most probably.” Lars smiled.

“So you’re taking the birds?” said Radar.

“If we can manage to find them all. Your father caused quite a mess with that little experiment of his.”

“But you’re taking them without his permission?” said Radar.

Lars bowed. “I realize this isn’t ideal. Believe me, I wish things could be different. In truth, I’m not sure how we’re going to pull it off without him.”

Otik waddled up to them, his flashlight bobbing.

“We will,” he said.

“Will we?”

“You make it with what you have. This is always how we do it.”

“Yes, but this is Kermin we’re talking about,” said Lars. “These are his birds.”

“But after today there is no more ship!” said Otik. “You said so yourself. If we don’t go, we kiss all of them goodbye.”

“But say we leave and he shows up tomorrow,” said Lars. “What would you tell him? ‘Sorry, we didn’t know where you were, so after ten years of planning we decided to abandon you’?”

“First off, he will not show. You and I both know this.” He swung the flashlight to Charlene’s face. “No offense,” he said. The light swung back to Lars. “On second hand, he would also do this. ‘The project comes first,’ he said to me. Always, always, always. It is like this. If I would disappear like him, I would also want you to go without me.”

“We couldn’t do the show without you,” said Lars. “You know that. Or without Kermin, for that matter. We need three people, minimum, to pull it off. Probably more.”

“Not true,” said Otik. “I could do whole show myself.”

“You couldn’t.”

“I could.”

“What about Radar?” Charlene said suddenly.

Everyone turned and stared at her.

“What about him?” Lars asked.

“He could go instead of Kermin,” she said.

A moment of silence.

“Where is this show, by the way?” said Charlene.

After a pause, Lars said, “The Democratic Republic of Congo.”

“The Congo ?” she said, eyebrows raised. “Wow. Okay.”

“Wait, Mom, what’re you talking about?” said Radar. “I can’t go.”

“Why not?”

“You know I can’t go. I have to find him.”

She looked at him. “He would want you to go.”

“He would?” The words quarrying something small and dense from the depths of his body. He contemplated his mother, wondering if she could be serious. What could compel her to make such a ludicrous suggestion? She needed him. And yet, his fingers began to tingle with current. At the mere possibility of going somewhere. He had never been anywhere.

“No, no,” said Otik, shaking his head. “No, that is not option. I’m sorry, he cannot. He would be like child out there.”

“Hang on,” said Lars. He turned to Radar. “Would you consider it? Kermin always said you were the most talented in the family.”

“He did?” said Radar. He tried to adjust to this piece of news. Kermin said that about him? “Well, to be honest. . I hadn’t really thought about it.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” said Otik. “Everyone, hold on to your horse. Let me just say I am lodging immediate formal complaint. This is not how we are electing team members. This is very important position. I have no idea about this man’s strength in his mind or—”

“Shut up,” said Lars. “Radar? What do you think? Seriously. You could really save us here.”

All at once, Radar remembered Ana Cristina. The feeling of sitting beside her in the store, of her lips, the temperature of her hands on his. Of course he couldn’t go. There were so many reasons he had to stay here, he was surprised he had even entertained the possibility of leaving.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I would love to help you out, but. . I don’t think I’m your man. I can’t.”

“You see?” said Otik. “Even he knows this is not good idea.”

“Why not?” said Charlene. “Why not you?”

“I can’t, Mom,” he said. “You know I can’t.”

“Why?”

“Why?”

“Give me one good reason. And don’t tell me you have to find Kermin, because I can do that by myself. I’ve been looking for him my whole life.”

“Why do you want me to go so badly?” he said.

“I don’t want you to go. You want to go.”

“No, I. .” He began to protest and then stopped. He thought of Ana Cristina again. “You really think I could do Kermin’s job? Me? Radar?” He had intended to say his name as a protest, but it came out sounding like a superhero.

“Of course,” said Charlene, smiling, hearing this. “You’re his son.”

He blinked. His eyes burned.

“I’m his son,” he repeated. “Radar.”

When he said this, it was as if the needle had finally found the groove. A gear shifted, and the machine came to life. Of course. He was Kermin’s son. It was meant to be. They all saw it then.

“Okay,” said Radar.

“Okay what?” said Lars.

“I’ll go. I’ll take his place.” He felt the tingle of leaving already spreading through his bones. He was terrified, quivering in his boots. He hooked his hands in his belt loops to keep them from shaking.

“You realize what this means?” said Lars. “Once you’re in, you’re in.”