Finally Ingvi went up to the guy and he submerged him in a pool. It was a little strange. After, there was a party and then we went home.
I asked Ingvi about the dunking. He told me that the guy had submerged him in the water, down in the pool, and told him to come up from the water when he saw white doves.
— Did you see any? I asked.
— No, but I said I had, or I would have drowned.
~ ~ ~
Right by the farm is a ravine. All the trash is thrown in there and burned. That’s also where all the old stuff is thrown away. We can’t go down there. It is highly forbidden. I still sneak off there when no one can see. The trash dump is a temptation I can’t resist. I enjoy rooting around in the stuff and examining it. There are nonstop flames from a fire in a large iron barrel. I made myself a little fort and a house out of glass stuff on the far side of the ravine. Then I went to the other side and did an air raid with stones and dry clods of earth that burst when they explode. Sometimes, I make fires.
Among the stuff there’s a dead ewe. There is a hole in her stomach and she’s full of bustling worms. I shovel the worms into cans and put them on the fire. Then they bubble and boil in the can; the worms all split and burst.
Perhaps I’d gotten annoying. Maybe everyone else was tired of me. I don’t know. I never realize it until others have gotten angry. Then I know I’ve probably done something. If someone is annoyed or angry then I get a heavy heart because I am afraid it’s my fault.
In the rubbish dump was a large pile of tires. They were tires from cars and tractors.
I was just playing. I took the tires and made them roll down the slope into the lagoon below.
First I took a little tire and then a big one.
It was incredibly exciting to see them roll. The slope was long and steep and the tires zinged forward with great speed and jumped and skipped. They rolled a long way out on the reservoir so that water gushed in all directions.
Then I took the big tractor tires. They were the hardest. But it was also the most fun to see them roll.
The farmer got so angry that I thought he would hit me. I was so scared I started crying in front of everyone.
I wasn’t trying to ruin anything. I was just playing. I had always planned to help him get his tires back. If I had really wanted to damage them, I would have burned them before I rolled them.
A few days later, they told me I had to go home. That really sucked.
~ ~ ~
Finally, we reach Reykjavík.
I find Reykjavík has changed a lot since I left. It’s a different color. The smell is new, strange, mysterious. There’re houses I’ve never noticed before. I think I’ve been gone a long time, for many years.
Dad picks me up at the bus station. He has a new car. Dad has just bought a Mazda.
— Welcome, he says, dryly.
— Hi.
I’m shy around him. I feel like I won’t be ready to meet him for many years yet. Also, he is really angry.
— Speak in Icelandic. Don’t say “hi,” he says.
I sit down. The car has a new smell. The plastic is still on the seats. My dad never takes it off, just lets it come off little by little.
The windows in the back are round.
We’re silent. I fiddle the plastic with my finger and look out the window. When my neighborhood appears, everything still feels strange. It’s like I’ve never been here before and have only seen pictures of this house. It’s like I’ve gone abroad. Everything is new. When I left, it was spring. Now it’s fall. The trees have grown many feet and you can’t see for leaves. A new field has sprouted. The previously frozen soil has given way to thriving flowerbeds. There are new poles and traffic signs.
Time passes here without me. It’s odd.
At home, I feel like I’m an unfamiliar visitor. I feel like I have to sit in the living room. I feel like I have to ask for permission to get something from the fridge or go to the bathroom. I don’t belong here.
Mom’s not mad at me, but she’s also not all that happy. She smiles weakly and kisses me.
— Welcome home, son.
I give my mom the package. She thanks me. But it doesn’t make her as happy as I had expected. Maybe I should have bought a different kind of twine, some other color.
My room is different. It’s been cleaned and tidied up.
I sit on my bed.
I find it hard to breathe.
~ ~ ~
Runa is seething. She has a shoebox in her hand.
— What did you do to my dolls?
— Nothing, I mumble.
— Fuck, you’re unbearable!
— What?
I know what she’s talking about. Her dolls have vanished.
— What’s going on? asks Mom.
— He’s been snooping in my stuff. He’s taken my dolls. I came by to get them.
Mom has a weary expression on her face. She wears that expression when she is completely sick and tired of my doings.
— You just have to keep an eye on your stuff. He roots through everything.
Runa turns back to me.
— Can’t you just leave my stuff alone?
— Yes, sure, I say.
— Why do you always have to fiddle with it?
— I don’t know.
— Oh, you’re such an imbecile!
I don’t mean to break things. But I get a nice feeling when I look through stuff. Runa left behind so many exciting things; they’re kept in a closet. When I’m home alone, I go sightseeing through the house. I try to find out who these people are. Where are they coming from and how do they live? Who are my siblings? I have a brother I know nothing about. His name is Ómar. Stebbi has a big brother who lives in his home. Gummi also has a big brother who sometimes visits him. He’s an agent; he works for Customs. Anton has two brothers.
I don’t really know Anton very well. I only play with him because he’s so often on his own and has no one else to play with. I think he finds me annoying and stupid. He plays with me only because he doesn’t know how to say no to me, or because he needs someone to kick about with. He’s older than me. If we didn’t live in the same neighborhood, we probably wouldn’t speak.
Anton’s odd. He’s not like the others. But he is, too. He wears terylene pants. He has a skin disease called eximenenen. I can’t say it. Sometimes Anton asks me the name of his disease.
— Eximenenen?
— What did you say?
— Eximenenen?
He thinks it’s strange that I can’t say it right.
The girls tease Anton by calling him Tony Terylene. This makes him really mad; he runs off to his house.
— Is Tony Terylene going home to his Mommy? they call after him.
He’s very bright. He knows so much. Sometimes I’m completely confused by listening to him. Once, he told me that it would one day be the year 2000. I found that astonishing. I don’t even know what year it is now.
Anton thinks I’m an idiot. He’s not said so directly, but I know anyway. I can tell by the way he looks at me sometimes. His father can’t stand me. He can’t stand kids, but especially not me.
Once when I was asking for Anton, his father came to the door.
— Is Anton at home? I asked.
— What’s it to you? he said, and shut the door.