The Fire Witness

58

Joona stands at the point where the bridge meets the ground on the river’s north bank. He’s looking down the grassy slope, and at the floating swimming dock that stretches from the sandy edge of the beach out into the river’s current.

The wind blows open his jacket.

He walks away from the bridge along the edge of the road and feels the humidity rising from the grass; he can smell the scent of sweet fireweed. He stops, bends down, and picks up a small cube of glass hidden among the plants. He lets it sit in his palm and then looks at the water again.

“Here’s where they drove off the road,” he says. He points out the direction.

One policeman walks to the sandy beach and shakes his head.

“There’s no sign of anything here. Nothing at all,” he calls back.

“I’m sure I’m right,” Joona says.

“Well, we’ll never know. There’s been too much rain,” the other policeman says.

“It didn’t rain underneath the water,” Joona says.

He strides past the two police officers to the water’s edge. Walking upstream, he catches sight of tire tracks in the shallows. Parallel tracks in the sand head straight out to the deep water.

“Do you see anything?” yells one of the officers.

“Yes, I do,” Joona shouts back, and then he walks into the river.

The cool water swirls around his legs and tugs him gently to one side. It’s hard to see beneath the shimmering surface, but he can make out reeds dancing in the current. One of the policemen follows him into the river, swearing audibly. Now up to his thighs in the river, Joona makes out a dark form about thirty feet farther out.

“Let me call for a diver,” says the policeman.

Joona takes off his jacket and hands it to the officer as he keeps going.

“What are you doing?”

“I need to know if they’re dead,” Joona says. He hands his pistol to the officer, who is also thigh deep in the river, and wades farther out. The water is cold here and the current pulls at his pants.

“Hey! There are logs floating in the river! You can’t go swimming around in there!” yells the other policeman from the shore.

Joona keeps going. The riverbed is falling away beneath his feet and the water is up to his stomach. He dives in. His ears thud as water fills them. He opens his eyes. Rays of sunlight cut through the water. Mud whirls in the current. He kicks and glides deeper beneath the surface. Suddenly he can see the car. It’s slightly to the side of the wheel tracks. The current has already shifted it toward midstream.

The red body panels glimmer. The windshield and the two side windows on the right are missing. Water glides through the interior.

Joona swims closer, trying not to think about what he might find. Still, his brain flashes images of the girl in the driver’s seat, the seat belt diagonally across her body-her arms floating, her mouth open, her hair swirling.

His heart is beating hard now. This deep below the surface everything is dim and silent. He reaches the rear door on the right side and grabs the empty window frame. The power of the river is drawing him away. There’s a groan of metal and the car shifts. Mud whirls up and he can’t see. He swims a few strokes. The cloud of mud clears and he can see again.

About three meters above his head is the other world, drenched in sunlight. A waterlogged log is gliding just below the surface-a heavy projectile.

Joona’s lungs are starting to spasm. The water current is strong down here.

Joona grabs the empty window opening and sees that blood is flowing from his hand. He forces his body down and tries to look inside the Toyota.

The car is empty. There is nobody there-no girl, no child. The windshield is gone. The bodies could have been washed out through the gap and drifted along the bottom of the river. He quickly registers the area around the car. There’s nothing to catch a child’s body. The stones are rounded and the plants are sparse.

His lungs are screaming for oxygen, but he knows he has just a bit more time. His body has learned to wait. When he was in the navy, he often had to swim twelve kilometers carrying the signal flag. He’s left a submarine with an emergency balloon. He’s swum beneath the ice of the Gulf of Finland. He can go without oxygen for a few more seconds.

He swims around the car and searches the smooth riverbed. The water pulls him like a strong wind. Shadows from the logs above pass swiftly over the bottom.

Vicky drove off the road, down the beach, and into the water. The windows were already broken from crashing into the traffic light in Indal. The car would have filled with water immediately but kept going for a few seconds before it settled on the riverbed.

But where are the bodies?

He sees something shining among the stones. It’s a pair of glasses that have tumbled away from the car. Joona swims over and grabs them as they are about to whirl farther downstream. Bright spots flash before his eyes. He’s out of time. He kicks, swimming up blindly. He breaks the surface and draws air into his lungs. He doesn’t see the log until just before it hits his shoulder. It hurts so much he howls. His shoulder has been dislocated by the force of the blow. Joona finds himself underwater again. The ringing in his ears sounds like church bells calling him to service. Above him, the sun flares in broken rays.