Season of the Witch by Árni Thórarinsson Read Free Book Online Page A

o’clock last night. Jóa’s probably still fast asleep in bed.
    I glance at my watch. It’s nearly 1:00 p.m.
    “Sorry, Ásbjörn. Would you mind saying that again?”
    “Pal is missing.”
    I’ve never seen him so upset. I want to laugh, but I can’t find the energy. So I say:
    “I’m sorry to hear that. What happened?”
    Ásbjörn paces back and forth across the floor, two steps each way. “Karólína took him for his walk this morning as usual and let him off the leash for a run on the hillside below the church.She’s been doing it every day since we came here, and there’s never been any problem. Pal’s well brought up. He knows what’s allowed and what isn’t. He always comes back, and he always obeys when we call him. But this time…”
    He takes out a polka-dot handkerchief and blows his nose.
    “What happened this time?” I inquire.
    “Some woman stopped Karólína to ask for directions. When she was gone, and my wife started looking around for Pal, he wasn’t there. Disappeared. Into thin air.”
    Ásbjörn repeats the fact, as if unable to believe it.
    “She called and called and searched and searched…”
    “And Pal had simply vanished? Into thin air?” I remark.
    He shakes his head, over and over again. “You may find this amusing, Einar. But it isn’t, not for Karólína. It isn’t amusing for us.”
    I stand up and pat him on the shoulder. “No. I understand that it’s been a shock for you. But have you contacted the police? Perhaps someone’s found Pal and taken him down to the station?”
    He doesn’t seem to hear me. “We’ve been all over the town center, and we’ve driven all around the suburbs. It’s as if…”
    “As if the earth had swallowed him?”
    He gazes soulfully at me.
    “I say again, Ásbjörn—and please listen to me—what about the police? Have you called the police?”
    “Yes, I have an old friend on the force here, and he’s been asking around. But no one has contacted them. In fact, he’s even exceeded his authority and asked the police officers on the beat to keep their eyes open. But nothing…”
    “Hang on. When did this happen?”
    “Nine o’clock this morning.”
    “But that’s only four hours ago. You must be patient. Of course the dog will turn up.”
    “You don’t understand, Einar. Pal’s no ordinary dog. He’s very sensitive to change. New people. New places…”
    He’s not the only one
, I think to myself. I don’t know what to say next.
    I lead Ásbjörn to the break room and pour us both a coffee, black without sugar. We stand there for a while, sipping at our drinks.
    “Where’s Karólína?” I ask.
    “She’s out looking for him. She’s absolutely devastated. I don’t know…she might…I don’t know.” He shakes his head again, as if he hopes to shake something loose.
    “I suppose Pal has a collar with his name and address?”
    “Only for our address in Reykjavík. During the move, we forgot to update it.”
    “Is there anything I can do to help?” I cautiously offer.
    He hesitates, then summons up courage. “Could you do a short interview with Karólína for tomorrow’s paper, with a photo of Pal? Maybe someone will recognize him.”
    I’m lost for words.
    “It would make her feel so much better,” he adds with an expression that combines embarrassment and entreaty in about equal proportions.
    “Well, Ásbjörn, that would hardly count as news. You know that as well as I do.”
    He looks down. “I know. Of course. But I was hoping you could find an angle. Human interest. Something like that. For the inside pages.”
    I think about it.
Dog Goes Missing
isn’t much of a headline. Then I have an idea.
    “Maybe we could place Pal in a wider context. The move to a new home, getting lost. We could see Pal as a newcomer here, just like us. Or the outsiders in Reydargerdi…”
    Ásbjörn flings up his hands in delight and smiles from ear to sticking-out ear. Quite unprecedented, and more than a little