The Drowned Boy by Karin Fossum Read Free Book Online Page A

grief,” he continued. “We’re no longer rational and it’s hard to think straight. Words just pop out of our mouths that we later live to regret.”
    He went out, crossed the yard, and lumbered down to the jetty. The dark planks creaked under his considerable weight.
    “How are things?” he asked in a friendly voice. “How are you?”
    Nicolai shrugged and kept his eyes focused on the only water lily in the pond. He felt Zita’s large hand on his neck. It was a strong, patriarchal hand that spoke of authority.
    “Not good,” he said with a sigh. “I’m not managing this at all. I’m just sitting here, and I don’t intend to move.”
    Zita stood without saying anything for a while. He understood Nicolai’s bleak thoughts about the future only too well. Life had not been good to him.
    “I don’t know what to do,” Zita said eventually. “I don’t know how to comfort you; there is no comfort. There is nothing I can say.”
    He tried to catch his son-in-law’s eye and sat down beside him with his feet dangling over the edge.
    “All it takes is a few moments when you’re not paying attention,” he continued. “Everything happens so fast. You have my full sympathy. We’ll support you in every way, you know that. You can count on us.” He raised his voice when he said this and sounded more determined.
    “You’ll have all the time you need to grieve. No one can deny you the right to give up. To cry and rage and curse fate. But let me just say one thing.” Zita took a deep breath and said loudly: “I will not allow you ever to blame my daughter.”
    Nicolai didn’t say anything for a while. He turned away from the water lily and looked at his father-in-law with melancholy eyes.
    “There’s a lot you don’t know,” he said.
    “And what is that supposed to mean?” Zita asked promptly. “Explain yourself.”
    “It’s not always easy to put a finger on it,” Nicolai tried. “Put it that way.”
    Zita felt uneasy. He didn’t like the implication and couldn’t understand the cryptic message.
    “Don’t make things difficult,” he said sternly. “Tell me what’s on your mind; I don’t like these insinuations. Come on; let’s go up to the house. We’ve got a lot to talk about. And forgive me for saying so, but you’re not the only one who’s grieving. This is a terrible blow for all of us.”
    Nicolai did not want to talk, as he had little belief in the ability of words to heal and soothe. And yet he stood up, somewhat reluctantly, and walked back toward the house. He stopped on the lawn and looked around with set lips. Everything seemed different and new, not the well-loved, familiar landscape he was used to being a part of. We should have put up a fence, he thought, as he watched Pappa Zita roll up to the house. A fence around the whole house with a latched gate. A simple solution that could have saved Tommy’s life, but it was too late now. He followed Zita into the house and let his mother-in-law, Elsa, embrace him. She had always been shy, but she was unable to contain herself and held him as tight as she could while her tears flowed. He pulled himself free and went into the living room. He turned on the TV, sat in a chair, and watched the news without moving. He stared almost blindly at the flickering images. There’s always someone who’s got it worse, he thought, but that’s cold comfort. He got up wearily and went back into the kitchen.
    “We have to choose an undertaker,” Pappa Zita said. “Not the biggest or most expensive; let’s use a smaller one. Sentrum,” he suggested, “I hear they’re very good, even though there are only two of them. When will we get Tommy back from the coroner?”
    Carmen and Nicolai looked at each other. Neither of them could answer, because they had forgotten to ask.
    “Well, I guess they have set procedures,” Zita said. “I’m sure it won’t take too long, and they know that we’re waiting. Has either of you thought about the