Harbor by John Lindqvist (classic novels for teens txt) 📕

Gustav’s outdoor clothes and boots were not in the cottage, so therefore he must have gone out on to the ice. However, the snowfall during the night had obliterated any tracks.

It was not until spring, when the snow on the ice melted, that they were able to find an indication of what had happened to Gustav. On the shining ice off Stora Korset, footprints could be seen. The snow had been compressed where Gustav had walked, and was melting more slowly than the loose snow around it.

A line of ghostly white footprints led across the ice in the direction of the mainland. It was possible to follow them for over a kilometre. Then they stopped. In the middle of nowhere, with Ledinge barely visible, the last footprint could be seen. Then the trail came to an end.

Perhaps the wind had managed to sweep away the rest of the trail after all, perhaps Gustav had collapsed on that very spot and then been collected or dragged or lifted in some unknown way.

He was gone, at any rate, and the following year the lighthouse on Stora Korset was automated. The lighthouse keeper’s cottage was rented out to an ornithology group who mounted warning lights around the lighthouse to alert small birds to the danger.

Correction

Anna-Greta had just finished her story when the outside door opened. From the way it was yanked open and the footsteps that followed, they could tell it was Anders. When he came into the kitchen his eyes were staring and he was rubbing his hands in a way that Simon recognised from Johan. Nervously, impatiently.

‘Just wanted to let you know I borrowed your boat,’ said Anders. ‘And that I’ll be there tomorrow. Congratulations.’

Anders seemed to be on his way out, and Anna-Greta said, ‘Sit down. Have a cup of coffee with us.’ Anders chewed his lips and rubbed his hands, but then took off his jacket and hat and pulled out a chair.

‘You’ve been out in the boat, then?’ said Simon, and Anders nodded. Anna-Greta poured him a cup of coffee and Anders drank with both hands wrapped around the thin cup, as if he were frozen. ‘I was on Gåvasten.’

Anna-Greta laid her hand on his arm. ‘What’s happened?’

Anders shrugged his shoulder jerkily. ‘Nothing. It’s just that I’m possessed by my own daughter and she’s somewhere out there in the sea and the gulls are keeping watch…’

‘There are several people,’ said Anna-Greta. ‘Several people who have become…possessed.’

Simon was surprised that Anna-Greta was speaking openlyabout something to do with the sea. Perhaps she judged that the information could not be kept from Anders, that it was better if he found out like this. Anders’ foot, which had been drumming on the floor, suddenly stopped and he listened carefully as Anna-Greta told him what had happened to Karl-Erik, and to the children on the jetty.

‘Why?’ asked Anders when she had finished. ‘Why does this happen? How can it happen?’

‘I can’t answer that question,’ said Anna-Greta. ‘But it does happen. And you’re not the only one.’

Anders nodded and stared into the bottom of his coffee cup. His lips were moving slightly, as if he were reading an invisible text in the coffee grounds. Suddenly he looked up and asked, ‘Why are they horrible? I mean, it seems as if they’re just…horrible.’

Anna-Greta replied as if she were weighing every single word before she uttered it. ‘It’s…it’s virtually only horrible people…who have disappeared. Over the years. Horrible. Or aggressive. Elsa Persson. Torgny. Sigrid. And so on, back through time.’

Anders looked from Anna-Greta to Simon. ‘Maja wasn’t horrible,’ he said, seeking support in their eyes. It wasn’t there. Both of them avoided meeting his eye and said nothing. Anders leapt up from his chair and flung his arms wide.

‘Maja wasn’t horrible! I mean, she was only a child. She wasn’t horrible!’

‘Anders,’ said Simon, reaching for his arm, but Anders pulled it away.

‘What are you saying?’

‘We’re not saying anything,’ said Anna-Greta. ‘We’re just—’

‘No, you’re not saying anything. You’re not saying anything. You’re saying that Maja…that she was horrible. She wasn’t. That’s completely wrong. It’s crazy, what you’re saying.’

‘You’re the one that’s saying it,’ said Anna-Greta.

‘No, I’m not! It’s completely wrong!’

Anders turned and rushed out of the kitchen. The outside dooropened and slammed shut. Simon and Anna-Greta sat in silence at the kitchen table for a long time. Eventually Anna-Greta said, ‘He’s forgotten.’

‘Yes,’ said Simon. ‘He’s made sure of that.’

The way it was

Anders wandered around the village. He went over to Kattudden and looked at the devastation there, sat on the shore for a while tossing pebbles through the thin covering of ice closest to the shoreline, went back to the old village and stood for a long time on the steamboat jetty staring over towards Gåvasten.

It was starting to get dark by the time he got back to the Shack. There was a note on the door from Simon, saying that he should come up to Anna-Greta’s so that they could have a sensible conversation. Anders ripped it off and screwed it up.

The house was cold but he didn’t want to light a fire, they would see the smoke from the chimney and would come down wanting to talk. He didn’t want to talk, he didn’t want to discuss this matter at all.

He fetched a blanket from the living room, wrapped it around himself and sat down at the kitchen table. In the last of the fading light he studied the photographs from Gåvasten. Cecilia’s smile, Maja’s absent expression, her gaze turned to the east.

He had put everything from his apartment in storage, thinking that he would make a completely fresh start here on Domarö. He hadn’t even brought the photograph of Maja, the photograph of that mask.

The devil troll.

Anders rubbed his eyes and shook his head. He knew the photograph off by heart, didn’t need it there in front of him. Maja’s expectant expression when she had scared them.

Father Christmess, Christmess presents…

‘No!’

Anders got up from the table and put his hands over