Tore Renberg - See You Tomorrow

‘Well, our cultural heritage. Many people are of the opinion that everything we do and think is to be found there, in ancient Greek culture.’

‘Hm. So, it’s the daughter, this Electra one, and her brother Orestes who bump off the mother, this Clytemnestra.’

‘Yes, at least that’s how I remember it from lit crit.’

‘Lit crit?’

‘Literary theory and criticism,’ smiled Iselin, and once again Tong pictured holding her hair tight and pressing her cheek down against the tabletop as he took her from behind. ‘I studied it at one stage.’

‘Do you think you know more about life than me because you went to college, is that it?’ Tong cocked his head to the side and looked fixedly at her.

Iselin swallowed, gave another lopsided smile and said: ‘No, I don’t think that, Tong.’

‘I want to borrow that book. Order a copy. I know someone who plays it. In the symphony orchestra.’

The Transporter makes it to the top of Ullandhaugbakken and the view over Hafrsfjord stretches out before them. It’s beautiful. Tong has had plenty of time in Åna to reflect upon what’s beautiful. He’s received three letters from his sister, Jin Eikeland, as she’s called. Three letters. That too is beautiful. He hasn’t managed to reply. But Jin has continued to write. As though she knows that he reads them. As though she’s used to talking to people who don’t respond.

‘Hey,’ says a voice from the back seat.

That big gob of Rudi’s. Tong would like to pour cement down it. Years ago, Rudi was funny, stupid and entertaining. Then he began to get slightly annoying, then he became really irritating, and soon it grew into hate and during his time in prison it’s become unbearable, even the mere thought of his face, of the way he takes up all the space in a room, the thought of that continuing to be a part of Tong’s life; it makes him want to puke.

‘Hey!’ says the voice again from the back seat.

‘Yes, Rudi, what’s on your mind?’ Jan Inge replies as he takes a right turn and drives alongside Haugtussa, with the tower blocks on the left, only a minute or two from Ernst Askildsens Gate.

‘What is on my mind,’ says Rudi, and Tong can hear how it’s kind of bubbling up in the guy’s throat, ‘is that we need to put down the hatchets here. We can view life as a billy can, yeah? Sometimes it can be a bit much. And I’ve been sitting here thinking. We are such friggin’ old friends, we have gone through so much feckin’ shit together, and then today has been a bit screwed up, and yes, I’m willing to take a share of the blame, I mean, what kind of buffalo am I who can’t accept love when my woman offers it to me on a silver platter? Yeah, I’m—’

‘But Rudi I—’

‘No, don’t interrupt me, Chessi — like I said, I’m a reptile, but I’m talking now, I’m lifting the words over my tongue, and I see all you guys, I see our shared past in my head, and I’m asking you, as we make our way towards our friend Pål Fagerland, a man we have to do over for his own sake: can we air out this foul atmosphere before we get out of the Transporter?’ Rudi takes a short pause and looks around at them. ‘Can we wash our mouths out with Fairy Liquid and remember what advice Solomon gave us, what The Good Book says? A gentle answer turns away wrath, but a harsh word stirs up anger. Hm? Can we try and recall some good times and enjoy a pleasant hour on the job? Eh?’

Tong can see Jan Inge nodding his head. He puts the van into second and turns into Ernst Askildsens Gate. Jan Inge smiles. Everyone sits smiling and it’s revolting, it’s utterly revolting.

‘Rudi,’ Jan Inge says, ‘you’ve got a real gift when it comes to people, you know that?’

Rudi shrugs proudly, ‘Weeell, I don’t know about that…’

Cecilie gives him a rub on the cheek.

‘Okay,’ Jan Inge says, bending his head down a little and looking out the windscreen. ‘There’s the house. We just need to reverse in … Everyone ready? Beanies on, gloves on. The tape, you have the tape, Rudi? We don’t want to leave any traces behind.’

Rudi nods, finds the roll of tape in the bag and takes it out. He picks at the roll with a fingernail to work the end free and then tapes over the gap between his gloves and sleeves, before passing it to Cecilie.

‘Electra,’ Tong says.

‘Hm?’

‘I read a book in prison.’

‘Hey! Tongo! Man of books now, too!’

‘A Greek tragedy,’ he says coldly.

‘Wow! A Greek tragedy! Mr I-Read-A-Lot from Korea!’ Rudi thumps him on the back and lets out a loud laugh.

Tong wants to pulverise Rudi’s face. But he controls himself. ‘There’s a woman,’ he continues while putting on his gloves, ‘in this book, who kills her mother. She’s called Electra. And there’s a line in it where it says: The result excuses any evil.’

Jan Inge shrugs. ‘Well. I have heard better quotations than that, to be honest with you, so if that’s the level of Greek tragedies these days I can’t say I’m overly impressed. Your suffering will be legendary, even in hell, to put it like that.’

‘Heh heh! Brother of quotes! There you go, Mr Reader, you’ll never reach Jani’s level.’

Tong has never killed anyone. No one in the gang has ever killed a person. That has been one of their most important principles. Life will not be lost due to our work.

Jan Inge has reversed the Transporter into the drive, backed right up to the garage door, which is opening from the inside. ‘Okay,’ he says, and backs into the garage, at the same time as Tong catches sight of the outline of a small man in the rear-view mirror. It looks like he’s trying to hide in there.

‘Let’s get to it,’ Jan Inge says. ‘Everyone all set? Everyone sharp? Hairnets on, everyone?’

You must come visit Egersund sometime, Jin wrote, when you get out of Åna. It would be so nice to see you. Sometimes I feel like I know you, even though we have never met one another. Ofttimes I feel like I would understand more about myself if only I had the opportunity to meet you, my brother. I won’t judge you by the life you have lived, that you should know. Come to Egersund, we have a big guest room with a comfy bed.

Why not?

Why not leave all this behind and go knock on a door in Egersund? The garage door comes back down and shuts, and Rudi rubs his hands together before taking out the small bag of speed he has in his pocket. His eyes are sparkling as he uses his driving licence to set up a few lines on the dashboard. Tong has a ticking sensation in his temples. He ought to keep away from this stuff. But he accepts the speed as it’s offered round, placing a finger over one nostril, sniffing it up the other and feeling it hit.

Rudi is electric. He takes hold of the blue roll of shoe bags Cecilie hands him, pulling a pair over his shoes while he laughs. He opens the side door of the Transporter, that long, bloody body of his tottering out into the garage like Pinocchio on speed, and he calls out: ‘Pål Schmål! Well? Been keeping away from the internet?’

Tong has never killed anyone.

But there’s a first time for everything.

Daniel slows down the Suzuki a little way off from the gym hall. Veronika, riding pillion, shifts uneasily behind him.

‘What do you think you’re doing?’ she asks. ‘We shouldn’t be here, can’t we just go back to the practice room and—’

‘Shut up.’

Daniel dismounts. He sets down the kickstand and parks. There’s a girl standing over by the gym hall.

‘Daniel, you can’t just ride around thinking I’ll go with you without having a clue where we’re—’

‘I’m squaring things up,’ he interjects.