Harbor by John Lindqvist (classic novels for teens txt) 📕
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- Author: John Lindqvist
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Incredibly, he had the presence of mind to swerve to one side before he swam to the surface. He flapped his free arm, pushed as hard as he could with his legs and forced Mårten up out of the water as if he were lifting a trophy before following on himself, gasping for air.
Their heads broke the surface just a metre from the metal hull of the tender. He could no longer hear anything, it was as if he were wearing earplugs made of ice. Above his head, the sky was swarming with silent gulls.
Mårten’s snowsuit was full of water and would have dragged them both down, but Arvid managed to grab hold of one of the tractor tyres fixed to the edge of the jetty, then pulled himself along and switched his grip to the next tyre. When he reached the corner of the jetty he heard someone shouting to him from far away, but tookno notice. He kept Mårten’s head above the water and made his way towards the shore.
He edged around the corner and became vaguely aware of another figure crawling ashore a few metres away.
Maria…good…good…
His hands were no longer prepared to obey him. When he tried to get a grip on the last tractor tyre his fingers were frozen stiff, and slipped on the hard rubber surface.
Someone reached down from the jetty with a boat hook, but he couldn’t manage to close his fingers around the pole. He thought he was going to sink, but the hook caught the neck of his pullover and he was pulled towards the shore with his burden.
After a couple of metres he noticed that his legs were moving oddly, and realised they were dragging along the bottom. The hook was detached from his pullover and water splashed in his face as Roger jumped in and hauled him ashore. He noticed that Maria was already lying there, staring at him with wide-open eyes and a face as white as paper.
Somebody was tugging at him.
‘Arvid, Arvid. Let go. You need to let go.’
Roger was pulling at his left arm, the arm that was holding Mårten. Arvid tried to let go, but couldn’t; the arm was locked. The only place where there was any warmth left was inside his mouth, and he managed to part his lips and say, ‘I can’t.’
He looked at Mårten and saw something wonderful. His mouth was moving, and he coughed up a little water over Arvid’s face. He was alive. With gentle force Roger managed to move Arvid’s arm and release Mårten.
While Roger worked to get Mårten’s snowsuit off and wrap him in his own fleece, Ulla and Lennart Qvist, who had been aboard the tender, came to look after Maria and Arvid.
There was the sound of screaming from up on the jetty, and when Arvid managed to get to his feet with some support, he could see that two adults were holding on to Sofia, who was flinging herself fromside to side, howling like an animal and trying to bite them. The gulls were circling above the scene like an excited audience at a boxing match, flapping around them, screaming and urging them on.
Mårten wept in Roger’s arms as he was carried home, and Maria was also sobbing, her lips blue with cold, as Ulla led her along by the hand. Arvid took off his pullover and Lennart wrapped him in a big overcoat, patting him on the shoulder.
‘Well done, Arvid. Well done.’
Arvid’s jaws were trembling so much he could hardly speak. He nodded stiffly towards the crazed gulls and Sofia, who was being dragged along swearing and kicking. ‘Why. Is it. Like this?’
‘Nobody knows,’ said Lennart. ‘Nobody knows. Let’s get you home.’
On shaking legs Arvid allowed himself to be led around the sea buckthorn thicket and up towards the village. When he saw that his path was going to cross Sofia’s, he stopped.
‘Could you do me a favour?’
‘Of course,’ said Lennart. ‘Anything.’
‘Could you get my jacket?’
While Lennart went back for the jacket, Arvid stood there with the overcoat tightly wrapped around him, watching as Sofia was bundled towards her home. The gulls pursued them, circling above their heads as if they had spotted their prey and were just waiting for the right moment to swoop.
When Lennart came back Arvid returned his coat, pulled the leather jacket over his bare skin and said he would be fine now. Then he staggered homeward, with water squelching in his boots.
When he reached the shop he stopped and looked along the track where Mårten was being carried home to his mum and dad, still wailing loudly, but alive. Arvid pulled his jacket closer and thought about how he felt.
It was strange, somehow.
For the first time it felt as if the jacket was warming him. And it was no longer too big. It fitted. Perfectly.
Back to Gåvasten
The cold nipped at Anders’ cheeks and brought tears to his eyes. He had wrapped up as warmly as he could and was wearing a lifejacket under his padded jacket, but the headwind found its way into every nook and cranny and by the time he was halfway to Gåvasten, he was frozen through.
At first he had thought there was something odd about his eyes, that he was seeing dots, but from this distance he could see that the dots swarming across the sky around Gåvasten were actually birds. It was impossible to tell what kind they were, but it looked as if they were different sizes, and therefore different species.
Simon’s twenty-horsepower engine hummed monotonously and the fibreglass hull slapped against the waves. Anders’ face was so stiff with the cold that he no longer felt it when a few drops flew up and hit his cheeks or chin.
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