Reif Larsen - I Am Radar

“I just saw this,” said Radar. “They showed it to me. It’s by Lars’s brother.”

“I was mailed a copy a long time ago. It’s in Norwegian, so I’ve never been able to read it, but it seems important now, particularly if you’re going to go with them. Maybe you’ll have better luck understanding it than I did.”

“Mom,” he said suddenly, the book in his hands. “I’m scared.”

“It’s okay to be scared,” she said. “It means you have something to live for.”

• • •

IT WAS NEARLY 3:30 A.M. by the time they parked the van next to the little cottage beneath Xanadu.

“Okay,” said Otik. “We have three hours. No dillydally.”

There would be no dillydally. They feverishly transferred the birds and much of the cottage’s contents into a white shipping container that sat on a trailer not far away in the parking garage. There was a lot of equipment. More boxes and tools emerged from that little house than seemed physically possible. All of it was apparently fragile, and Otik would bark at both of them about holding this with two hands, or not disrupting that by rattling it around too much. Radar tried to be helpful, but more often than not he felt as if he was simply in the way.

When they were finished, Radar collapsed onto the ground. He was utterly exhausted. He expected to seize, to pass out, for his body to fail him, but somehow he managed to stay online.

He opened his eyes. Lars was standing above him.

“Congratulations,” said Lars. He offered Radar a little white pill.

“What is this?”

“To make it official,” said Lars. “It’ll make you grow small. Like Alice.”

Radar must’ve looked alarmed, because Lars smiled and said, “It’s for malaria. It might give you some unusual dreams, but believe me, the alternative is much worse.”

The three of them poured a little coffee into some mugs, clinked them together, and took down the pills.

“To dreams,” said Lars.

“To entanglement,” said Otik.

“To Kermin,” said Radar. As soon as he had said it, a kernel of doubt popped open in his chest. This pill had not been meant for him.

“To Kermin,” said Lars gravely. “May we make him proud.”

“To boat,” said Otik. “We have half hour before it is gone.”

• • •

201-998-2666:Ana Cristina, hi it’s Radar. I don’t have much time to write because I’m on my way to a boat and you probably will never get this anyway since your phone is dead but I just wanted to tell you that I’m going away for a while. My father was supposed to put on this show in the Congo but he disappeared so now I’m going instead of him. Kind of crazy, I know. So I won’t be able to meet your Mom right now altho

201-998-2666:Sorry, I guess I reached the limit for a single text. I’ve never written one of these before. I guess they don’t want you rambling on for a long time. So I’ll try to keep this short. These buttons are very hard to write on don’t you think? I prefer Morse Code. I’ll teach you someday, okay? It’s not hard, you just have to get used to it. Point is I was so happy when you invited me to meet your mom before

201-998-2666:Wow. Hit the limit again. That’s embarrassing. Now I’m not sure I want you to get these. All I meant to say was: I want to meet your mom, I want to eat empanadas with you. I’ll miss you. I hope Jersey is okay after all this. Talk to you soon. Xo Radar.

609-292-4087:Radar! Hi!!:)

201-998-2666:Ana C? Your phone works?

609-292-4087:I got a new one:)

201-998-2666:I hope I didn’t wake you. It’s like 6?

609-292-4087:I couldn’t sleep

201-998-2666:Are you okay?

609-292-4087:Yeah my mama is freaking but we r okay! I M so sorry 2 hear about your papa:(I hope he is okay

201-998-2666:Me too.

609-292-4087:You don’t know where he is?

201-998-2666:No

609-292-4087:You’ll find him:) Everyone turns up

201-998-2666:Thanks. I hope so.

609-292-4087:So r u really going to congo? That’s in africa????

201-998-2666:Yes. I’m kind of nervous. We’re taking a boat.

609-292-4087:Boat to africa! Like a movie:)

201-998-2666:I’ll miss you

609-292-4087:I was thinking about u

201-998-2666:Yeah?

609-292-4087:Did u know yr name is same forward-> RADAR back-> RADAR:)

201-998-2666:Yours is too! At least ANA is. Cristina kind of messes it up. .

201-998-2666:Just kidding.

609-292-4087:your funny!!!

201-998-2666:Oh. I can’t go. I can’t leave you!!!

609-292-4087:I’ll be here when you get back:)

201-998-2666:You promise? You’re like the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I feel like I’ve known u forever

609-292-4087:I know what u mean

609-292-4087:U there?

201-998-2666:Sorry, We’re here I think. I have to go. Ahh!

609-292-4087:Don’t worry be safe!!! I’ll miss you

201-998-2666:I’ll try to text u when I’m in the congo

609-292-4087:Okay that would be great:)

609-292-4087:Like my own reporter in the jungle:)

201-998-2666:It’s weird how close

201-998-2666:I feel to u now. Just the words between us

201-998-2666:???

609-292-4087:I know

609-292-4087:Nos vemos radar — ><-

201-998-2666:What’s this? — ><-?

609-292-4087:I just made it up:) same backward & forward

201-998-2666:Okay. I get it

609-292-4087:Maybe its being close w/o being close

201-998-2666:— ><- see you

609-292-4087:— ><- x

As dawn broke across the Newark quayside, Radar stood on the dock watching the great white shipping container slowly descend into the hull of the ship. The gantry crane jammed and the container jerked sideways, swaying back and forth against a velvet maroon sky. From inside the container they could hear crashing and splintering.

“Jebi se!” Otik yelled next to Radar. “They are fucking it! Tell them they are fucking it!”

But then the cable winch caught again and the box resumed its graceless plunge into the bowels of the boat.

The Aleph— the vessel to which they were about to entrust their passage across the Atlantic — had seen better days. Her hull was pockmarked by welding scars and archipelagoes of rust, and with every meager rise and trough of the sheltered bay, her joints creaked a painful symphony. In an oddly boastful tone for a man revealing his ship’s inadequacies, the captain had informed them that she was supposed to carry six thousand tons but in her current state could manage only five, and that even this sank her below her summer Plimsoll.

“But she will not sink?” Otik said nervously. “She floats, right?”

“It’s true, she’s unhappy with the world,” the captain said in lieu of an answer.

Dressed in the crisp whites of his command, Captain Alfonso Daneri was a barrel of a man. He had greeted each of them with both hands, as if he had known them for years. His beard looked like a giant sea urchin hauled up from the depths, and his eyebrows were two monstrous caterpillars that haunted his forehead, undulating with every consonant.