The Journey to the End of the World

3

Joel was on tenterhooks as the engine lurched and started moving. The journey had begun.

He looked out of the window and saw Stationmaster Knif waving his flag. The train gradually gathered speed. Samuel was holding on to his suitcase. They were approaching the railway bridge. There was their house. The engine thundered onto the bridge. The railings hurtled past. Joel could see the water down below, and the logs floating down to the sawmills at the mouth of the river. Samuel had stood up now and joined Joel at the window. They were over the bridge already. Now came the long curve through the part of the town on the other side of the river. And then they would be swallowed up by the vast forests. Joel had never been as far away from his home as this before, and it was still only the beginning of the journey.

Samuel sat down again. They had found a compartment to themselves.

‘There’s hardly likely to be anybody getting on until we get to Orsa,’ said Samuel. ‘That means we can stretch out and sleep here. Just as good as in a sleeping car.’

Joel sat down in a window seat. It was light and summery outside. They were already in the forest. They were travelling fast now. Tree trunks flashed past the window. There’s no end to the trees, Joel thought. Samuel would never be able to cut them all down. Not even if he kept going for a thousand years.

The door opened and the conductor came in. Samuel handed him the tickets.

‘Change at Krylbo,’ said the conductor.

Samuel put the tickets back in his inside pocket.

‘So, we’ll change at Krylbo,’ he said. ‘But there’s a long time to go before that. A whole night. And the next morning.’

When Joel grew tired of watching all the trees, he decided to explore the train. Samuel had already stretched himself out on the seat, using his suitcase as a pillow.

Joel went out into the corridor. He saw a carafe on a special shelf, and took a drink of water. Then he looked closely at a map attached to the wall. He traced the journey to Stockholm with his finger. First they would come to Orsa: by then the forests would have finished. Next would come Mora, Borlänge, and then a bit further south was Krylbo. They would change trains there. That would mean they had completed over half the trip. But there was still a long way to go to Stockholm. Joel wandered along the train. It was rather full. Quite a few people were standing in the corridor, smoking. He could hear somebody singing in one of the compartments. But his walk came to an end when he reached the first class carriages. The door was locked. He retraced his steps. The passengers who could afford to travel first class didn’t want to be disturbed. Joel almost bumped into a girl as she came out of a compartment. She was about his own age. Joel could feel to his annoyance that he was blushing. He didn’t want to do that. He soon returned to his compartment and found Samuel sitting up and waiting for him. They had packed enough food to last them all the way to Stockholm. Joel felt hungry. He hadn’t been able to eat much earlier in the day as he’d been so nervous. He’d imagined all kinds of things happening that would cause the journey to be cancelled. Samuel changing his mind, for instance. The train failing to appear. Him falling ill. He knew that was childish. Not something a fifteen-year-old ought to be imagining. But he couldn’t help being childish.

That’s the way he was.

‘Shouldn’t we have something to eat?’ he asked.

‘Already?’

‘I’m hungry.’

Samuel opened the bag of food. It contained sandwiches, hard boiled eggs and boiled potatoes. He also had the thermos flask with coffee and a bottle of milk. Joel ate. But Samuel wasn’t hungry. The tree trunks hurtled past outside. The wheels sang over the little gaps in the rails.

Later on, when Samuel had fallen asleep with his head pillowed on his suitcase, it occurred to Joel that a journey can be boring and exciting at the same time. There seemed to be no end to the trees flashing past the window. That was boring. Like a film in which nothing happens. Nevertheless, Joel couldn’t tear himself away from the window. Sometimes there was a glittering reflection from a lake. An occasional house. What was really exciting was that for every minute that passed, for every little gap in the rails the train sang over, he was further and further away from the town he’d grown up in. Doing this had always been his dream.

They were only going as far as Stockholm. Even so, that was a bit of the way to the end of the world.

Which existed even if it didn’t exist.

The conductor passed by in the corridor. That was a job Joel had on his list, becoming a train conductor. But he’d crossed it out. It could never match up to being a sailor. Railway lines and a sea channel marked out by flashing buoys could never be the same thing.

Joel carefully fished Samuel’s watch out of his coat pocket. Midnight already. He put it back and stretched out on the seat. He had his feet towards the window so that he could still see out.

The tree trunks streaked past.

He tried to imagine what would happen when he and Samuel met Mummy Jenny. Would she shake Samuel’s hand?

And what would she do to Joel? Give him a hug? Or shake him by the hand as well?

Joel sat up. It was Elinor who had written the letter to Samuel. Not Mummy Jenny herself. Why hadn’t she written? Perhaps she didn’t want to meet them at all? Maybe the man she was married to would be angry? Perhaps there was some law or other that’s aid it was forbidden for him and Samuel to visit her without announcing themselves in advance? Joel was sure that Samuel didn’t know much about the law. And what did he know himself? Nothing at all.

Joel looked at Samuel. Grown-ups were strange. How could Samuel sleep so peacefully? He must be just as nervous as Joel. But he was asleep. Fast asleep, with his hands clasped on his chest.

Or was he lying there and saying a prayer?

Dear God, please make Jenny glad to see me again. And Joel. Amen.

Joel sat down by the window once more. The train was shuddering its way round a long bend. He could just make out a lake behind the trees. His face was reflected in the window. His hair was short. Almost a crew cut. But the quiff immediately above his forehead made that part of his hair stand on end. It always did that. No matter how much water he used in an attempt to make it lie down.

Maybe Mummy Jenny would think he was ugly?

I know nothing, Joel thought. That’s the worst thing of all. Not knowing anything.

He lay down on the seat again. The train was shaking and lurching. He tried to count the gaps between the joinings of the rails.

Then he fell asleep.

Joel woke up when the train came to a halt. When he opened his eyes he knew immediately where he was. But when he looked at the seat opposite, he saw that Samuel was no longer there. He sat up. There wasn’t a sound. He opened the door and looked out into the corridor. And saw Samuel, who had opened a window. He smiled when he saw Joel.

‘Did I wake you up?’

‘Why has the train stopped?’

Joel was so sleepy that he could hardly keep his eyes open.

‘Maybe we have to wait for an oncoming train to pass. Or there might be a signal at red.’

‘Where are we? What’s the time?’

‘We’ll be in Orsa an hour or so from now.’

‘Hasn’t the forest finished yet?’

Samuel laughed.

‘Nearly,’ he said. ‘The forest’s about to come to an end. For now.’

‘Is that why you’re standing here? To take a last look at the trees?’

‘Could be.’

Joel had the impression that Samuel wanted to be left alone. Perhaps he was thinking about Jenny?

‘I’m off to lie down again,’ he said.

Joel fell asleep the moment he lay down.

When he woke up it was broad daylight. The sun was shining. Samuel was sitting by the window, drinking coffee. Joel sat up like a shot, as if he had to go to school but had overslept.

‘Have we come to Orsa yet?’ he asked.

‘We’ve passed there. And Mora as well.’

Joel looked out of the window. The countryside was completely different. He could hardly believe his eyes. An enormous lake stretched out in front of him, whichever way he looked.

‘Lake Siljan is beautiful,’ said Samuel. ‘It almost makes you think you’re at sea.’

‘That’s what I keep saying,’ said Joel. ‘Why do you hang about in the forest when you really want to be at sea?’

Samuel shook his head slowly, but he didn’t say anything. Joel went out into the corridor to pour himself a beaker of water.

Then they had breakfast. The train stopped at Rättvik, and an elderly couple came to sit in their compartment. Samuel moved his suitcase. The man and woman chatted away. They sounded quite different from the people back home in the little town. Joel very nearly burst out laughing. Samuel noticed, and gave him a stern look.

They got off in Krylbo and changed trains. It was a very large station. Samuel was worried about boarding the wrong train. He asked three different porters if they were on the right platform. When the train arrived, it was difficult to find any empty seats. They eventually found two, and Joel sat next to the door. He was annoyed when Samuel tried to talk to him. He didn’t like Samuel talking to him when others could hear. He pretended to be asleep, and quickly fell asleep in fact.

Some of the others in the compartment got off in Sala. Samuel and Joel ate the rest of their food.

‘Only four more hours to go now,’ said Samuel. ‘Then we’ll be there.’

They were the longest four hours of Joel’s life. He tried to will the train to go faster. But at the same time, he tried to make it go slower. He both wanted to get there, and not to get there.

But they eventually arrived in Stockholm. All the other passengers left the train. It was all hustle and bustle and noise on the platform. Samuel and Joel were sitting opposite each other. Each of them was clinging on to his suitcase or rucksack. The cardboard box containing the Celestine was on the shelf in front of the window.

Samuel suddenly looked small and unsure of himself.

He’s regretting it now, Joel thought angrily. What he really wants to do is to keep sitting where he is and hope that they’ll attach a new engine to the other end of the train, so that he can go back home. To his confounded trees.

‘We’d better get off now,’ Joel said. ‘Otherwise it’ll set off again, and goodness only knows where we’ll end up.’

Samuel nodded.

‘I suppose we should,’ he said. ‘We’ll have to find somewhere to stay.’

Samuel had often told Joel about his visits to Stockholm, but now he was acting as if this was the first time he’d ever been there. When they came to the big station concourse, Samuel had no idea which way to go. Joel had become so hot and bothered by the masses of people that he started shouting and tugging at Samuel’s overcoat. There was so much to see, so much to hear.

Samuel pointed at a bench.

‘Let’s sit down,’ he said. ‘There are so many people rushing around, you can’t see where you’re going.’

They sat down. Samuel was still holding tightly on to his suitcase.

Joel started to get annoyed. Or was he afraid, perhaps? Because Samuel seemed to have no control over the situation.

‘Where are we going to go?’ he asked.

Samuel pulled a face.

‘There are some cheap hotels near the station.’

Joel felt as if he’d been punched in the stomach. It was as if he were seeing Samuel, his father, for the first time. Small and with drooping shoulders. Wearing old, worn-out clothes. Despite the fact that they were the best he had. And then that accursed suitcase. With the broken handle.

He’d never felt like this before. Not even when Samuel had been drunk and Joel had to drag him home.

But now it happened. Joel was ashamed of him.

He was ashamed of having a father like Samuel.

‘Where are those bloody hotels, then?’ he snarled.

Samuel looked at him in surprise.

‘Yes, I swore,’ said Joel. ‘I’ll swear as much as I like.’

Samuel seemed to notice that his son was angry. He seemed to shrink even more.

‘Maybe we can help each other to find our way,’ he said tentatively.

Joel was still upset.

‘I’ve never been to Stockholm before. How should I know where the exit is?’

Samuel didn’t answer. He looked round hesitantly, and then he suddenly seemed to make up his mind. Joel could see it coming. Samuel straightened his back with a little jerk, as if it was fitted with a clockwork mechanism that somebody had just wound up.

‘Anyway, I need a pee,’ he said, gesturing towards a notice that said ‘Toilets’. ‘You can keep an eye on my suitcase while I’m gone.’

Samuel stood up and walked away. Joel watched him. Noticed how he kept stopping to let people in a hurry pass by him. Joel pulled the suitcase towards him and put his hand over the broken handle. He was still ashamed. Had anybody seen him? Sitting there covering up the broken suitcase handle with his hand? Joel tried to look relaxed, but it was as if he was surrounded by a halo of light announcing that he didn’t belong here.

Samuel seemed to be away for a long time. Joel became more and more irritated. He wondered if he ought to go away and leave the suitcase to look after itself. In order to punish Samuel. But what exactly was it that Joel wanted to punish him for?

Thoughts were buzzing round and round inside his head. At the same time he was trying to take in everything that was happening all around him. A voice blared out from a loudspeaker, and there was a wheezing and screeching from a locomotive somewhere.

Somebody sat down beside him on the bench. It was a boy not much older than Joel. But he was wearing a suit, and a tie, and shiny black shoes. And his hair was not cut short. His hair was combed and gelled to form stiff black waves. The Black Wave, Joel thought. He shuffled slightly away from the boy. I hope he doesn’t say anything.

But he did, of course.

‘Hi!’ said The Black Wave.

‘Er, hello,’ said Joel.

The Black Wave eyed him curiously. Joel glanced towards the toilets. What he wanted least of all just now was for Samuel to come back.

Only a few seconds ago it would have been too late. Now, it had suddenly become too soon.

‘Are you going off somewhere?’ asked The Black Wave, running his hand over his hair.

‘I’ve just arrived,’ Joel mumbled.

The Black Wave didn’t say anything. He just kept on eyeing Joel. Then he produced a packet of cigarettes out of his pocket.

‘Do you smoke?’ he asked.

‘No,’ said Joel.

And immediately asked himself why. It wouldn’t have done any harm to accept a cigarette.

The Black Wave lit one and blew a smoke ring.

‘Where have you come from?’ he asked.

‘From up north,’ said Joel.

‘I can hear that,’ said The Black Wave. ‘I can hear that very clearly. “From up north”.’ He imitated Joel’s pronunciation, and burst out laughing. Not nastily. It sounded most like a smoker’s cough.

‘Are you waiting for somebody?’ asked The Black Wave.

‘I’m waiting for my dad,’ said Joel.

‘Where’s he gone?’

‘He’s in the toilet.’

‘So your old man’s in the john, is he?’ said The Black Wave. ‘Maybe he’s nipped in there for a crafty drop of booze.’

Joel gave a start. How could this boy know that Joel’s father sometimes drank too much? And could it be true? Was Samuel in there drinking?

‘I’ll go and fetch him now,’ said Joel. ‘We’re in a bit of a hurry.’

‘I’ll bet you are,’ said The Black Wave. ‘Go on then, I’ll look after your things for you.’

Joel was just going to let go of the suitcase handle when he remembered that it was broken. He didn’t want The Black Wave to see that.

‘I expect the old man will want his suitcase,’ he said. ‘But you can keep an eye on my rucksack.’

The Black Wave smiled. It seemed to Joel that his luck was in — he’d met somebody who’d offered him a cigarette and was prepared to keep an eye on his rucksack for him. Now he only had two things to carry: Samuel’s suitcase and the box with the Celestine.

‘I won’t be a minute,’ said Joel, getting to his feet.

When Joel entered the toilets, he stopped short, looking around in confusion. There were two rows of cubicles. Most of the doors were closed. He had no idea which one Samuel was in. It seemed to him that he might just as well leave, and wait for Samuel to come when he was ready. But there again, he ought to tell Samuel that The Black Wave was sitting out there in the concourse, looking after Joel’s rucksack.

Joel waited. Doors opened. He suddenly started to wonder how much crap was flushed down all those lavatories in a single day. The thought made him want to burst out laughing.

An attendant eyed him up and down, suspiciously.

‘Are you waiting for somebody?’ he asked.

‘Yes,’ said Joel. ‘My dad.’

At that very moment the door of the cubicle furthest away opened, and Samuel emerged. He didn’t see Joel standing there. He went to the sink and washed his hands. He looked tired. Then he turned round and caught sight of Joel.

‘Where’s your rucksack?’ he asked.

‘Out there. Somebody’s looking after it.’

Samuel frowned.

‘Who?’

It occurred to Joel that he didn’t know The Black Wave’s name.

‘You don’t always have to know what people are called,’ he said angrily. ‘He volunteered to keep an eye on my rucksack while I went to look for you.’

‘I was a bit constipated,’ said Samuel. ‘That happens sometimes.’

Then he looked sternly at Joel.

‘Are you telling me that you’ve left your rucksack with somebody you don’t know?’

Joel could see that Samuel’s worry was genuine. That made him feel a bit worried as well.

They left the toilets.

The bench was empty. There was no sign of The Black Wave or the rucksack.

Samuel looked at Joel.

‘Where’s your rucksack, then?’

Joel could feel the tears forming in his eyes. He pointed to the bench.

‘There,’ he said. ‘But he’s disappeared. And so has my rucksack.’

‘That’s blown it!’ said Samuel. ‘You can’t trust all and sundry. He’s obviously nicked your rucksack.’

Joel was struggling to hold back the tears. He realised how stupid he’d been. The Black Wave had sat down on the bench next to Joel in order to try and steal the suitcase and the cardboard box and the rucksack. He’d seen immediately that Joel was in town for the first time. And what had he asked about? Are you going off somewhere? And what had Joel told him? I’ve just arrived. From up north.

How stupid could you get?

‘We’re in a bit of a mess now,’ said Samuel. ‘We’d better find a policeman and report this.’

‘Maybe he’s still around somewhere,’ said Joel.

‘No chance,’ said Samuel. ‘You can bet your life there’ll be no trace of him.’

‘But what use would my rucksack be to him?’ Joel asked. ‘There was nothing in it. Only my old clothes.’

‘A good question,’ said Samuel. ‘But we’re not going to get an answer.’

Samuel walked purposefully towards a police constable who was patrolling the concourse. He explained what had happened. Joel noticed that Samuel was different now. It was as if his back had straightened itself out. The policeman escorted them to the police station. Another officer noted down everything Joel said. What the rucksack looked like. And what had been inside it.

But what the policeman wanted to know most of all was what The Black Wave had looked like.

Joel could remember him well. The shirt and the suit, the tie and the pointed shoes.

When they finished, Samuel signed a document.

‘We don’t have a local address,’ said Samuel. ‘We’re only here for a visit.’

‘Then you’ll have to come back here to ask if we’ve managed to catch the thief,’ said the police constable.

They went back out into the station concourse. Joel looked round.

‘They’ll never find him,’ said Samuel. ‘He’s vanished.’

‘My toothbrush, though,’ said Joel. ‘What does he want my toothbrush for?’

Samuel didn’t answer.

‘We’d better find ourselves a hotel now,’ he said. ‘And then we can try to buy you a few items of clothing.’

‘I don’t need anything,’ said Joel.

Samuel looked him up and down, worried.

‘We mustn’t forget why we’re here,’ he said. ‘And after all, we can be pleased that we still have the Celestine.’

They left the station and went into the street.

Joel was overwhelmed by all the traffic.

Samuel looked around to establish his bearings.

Then they started walking.