A Bridge to the Stars by Henning Mankell Read Free Book Online Page A

nobleman and so I'm called von
Swallow. Ture von Swallow.'
    'Eh?' says Joel. 'Surely nobody can have a name like
that? And why don't you go to school? Why have you
moved here? Where the hell do you live?'
    'My dad's the new district judge,' says Ture. 'We live
over the courthouse. I don't need to go to school because
it's in the middle of term. Dad fixed that. I'm working at
home. But I start school in the autumn. Or so they think.
I'll have run away by then. It's not possible to live here.
So I shall run away.'
    He takes off one of his gloves and checks his watch.
    'In one week, three days, seven hours and nine
minutes from now I shall run away,' he says. 'Just in
case you're interested.'
    Joel gapes at him.
    Not that he has his mouth wide open. It's an invisible
mouth inside him that's gaping.
    He's never heard a lie like that before. First the boy
with the snowshoes claims that he's a nobleman and is
called Swallow. Then he says he's going to run away
and gives the exact time. Joel would never be able to
think up a lie like that. The boy with the snowshoes must
be somebody pretty special.
    'Why?' he asks. 'Why are you going to run away just
then?'
    'Because there's a train leaving for Orsa at that time,'
says the boy with the snowshoes. 'Because Dad will be
busy with the sessions then. Nobody will notice me
carrying out my suitcase. There's a lot of stuff I need to
take with me. That's why it's important that nobody sees
me. I could really do with somebody to help me carry it.
Maybe you could do that?'
    'Of course I could,' says Joel. 'I've thought about
running away as well.'
    What a lie, Joel thinks. He lies so convincingly that it
almost seems true.
    'Show me something exciting,' says the boy. 'If there
is anything exciting to show round here.'
    Joel trudges after Ture, who is taking big strides on
top of the snow.
    Perhaps he'll give me his snowshoes if I help him to
run away, Joel thinks.
    That's not true, of course. But still . . .
    They get as far as the bakery, and it's starting to get
dark already.
    Out of the blue, Joel knows what he is going to do.
    'There is a secret,' he says. 'But it's at night. Only at
night. Maybe you'll be asleep then?'
    'I'll be there,' says Ture.
    Joel thinks.
    Opposite the courthouse are the marshalling yards.
There are always goods wagons waiting to be connected
to some train or other the next day.
    'I'll be waiting for you next to the goods wagons,' he
says. 'At midnight. But I shan't wait long.'
    'What happens at night?' asks Ture.
    'It's not sure that anything will happen at all,' says
Joel. 'But there's a secret society.'
    'I'll be there,' says Ture. 'My room is in the attic, but
I can set up a ladder.'
    Joel is in a hurry now. The potatoes ought to have
been boiling on the stove already. Samuel will soon be
home. And he has to prepare for tonight as well. Being
the only member of a Secret Society is one thing. Not
being alone any more will be something completely
different.
    'See you, then,' he says. 'I have to go home now.'
    'Where do you live?' asks Ture.
    'You'll find out tonight,' says Joel.
    It's only when he's bounding up the stairs that he
remembers he was supposed to collect a kilo of coffee
from the shop.
    He unlocks the door and before he's even taken off his
boots he checks to see how much coffee is left in the tin
on the shelf over the stove. Enough for one more day, so
he can breathe again. His dad would have gone through
the roof if they'd run out of coffee.
    He can go and get the coffee himself, Joel thinks, as
he sits down on the cold floor in the dark entrance hall.
I haven't got time. Being responsible for a Secret
Society means that you only seldom have time to boil
potatoes.
    Joel curses the kindling in the stove that refuses to
light. He runs through all the swearwords he knows,
forwards and backwards, but still he can't make the
wood catch fire. He starts running through his range of
swearwords once again, at top volume; but he calms
down when old Mrs Westman