CHAPTER TWO

Carl struggled to sleep that night. There was an unusual feeling as he lay in bed. Firstly, it was far less soft than the one in his London home, although that was almost a given - it wasn’t like Tobi was made of money. That being said, he didn’t like the paintings and elf statuettes in the room. The shadows they cast looked like pointy-headed ghasts, and Carl could swear there was a rustling sound somewhere. He was pretty certain there was a rat or squirrel squirming across the house. Groaning with irritation, he moved off his covers, and crouched. The floorboards were creaky, and the smell of the polished wood was very much hugging his nostrils. He placed his ear to the wall, hoping to hear some squeaks. Thinking for a few seconds, he realised not only that he did not wish to hear any squeaking, but also that the rustling seemed to come from outside.

He rose to his feet, and treaded carefully towards the window. There was a gloss of ice around the edges, and as he peered through, he saw a figure in the snow, carrying a tool. Both intrigued and unsettled, Carl walked hastily to his drawer, forgetting to tiptoe, and pulled out some binoculars. They were slightly chipped, but right now that wasn’t of much importance to Carl. He pressed against the window, looking through the glass. With a zoomed in view, he could now see it was a man with a spade, leaping forwards across the snow like a mad pixie. He was looking up for some reason, as if he was scouring the trees for something. Perhaps he had lost something up there?

The man was unkempt and his coat was extremely tattered. Although he was far away, Carl could imagine that he most likely reeked of sweat, for his beard was tattered and his trousers were stained with some brown gunk. As Carl kept watching, he noticed the stranger thrashing a tree branch with his shovel, still looking up at the tree. By now, Carl was very perplexed, and zoomed in along the branches in search of an explanation. As he looked longer, a dreadful force of guilt kicked at his knees, and he began to tremble. There was something awfully sinister about this; this wasn’t a regular criminal. Whoever this man was, be it a madman or wanderer, Carl did not feel at all comfortable with his presence. About to turn away and retreat to the comfort of his covers, he noticed a bird’s nest in one of the branches. It seemed empty. Despite the comforting strength of the moonlight, making out the details at this time was impossible. He saw the nest shake and shudder more with each thump - the same sound that must have been the rustling to his tired ears. Carl almost wished it had been a mere rat, but now he was fixated on this stranger and the empty bird’s nest. He moved his eyes down from the shuddering nest, and down to the stranger.

His eyes stared back.

Carl inhaled with fright as he saw the unmistakable shape of a widening smile in the distance. Surely, that wasn’t coincidence. But how could he have seen without binoculars? Carl placed his hand to his throbbing, terrified heart, as he clumsily and slightly loudly placed his binoculars on the table. He then pounced back upon the window to see if the man was still staring. Fortunately, he was too far away to determine the facial expression of, which deeply comforted Carl. He closed his curtains with shocked relief, and meekly crawled back into his bed. The moon was no longer casting a shadow upon the elf figures, and he was very grateful for that. He was glad that tiredness from travel was overpowering the fear in his heart, for he knew that he would never have got any sleep otherwise.

Next morning, he was woken by Tobi knocking on the door, and quickly got himself dressed. Remembering that he had put his binoculars in the wrong place last night, he placed them back in the drawers, and opened the curtains. It was still fairly dark, although this was Norway, and Carl wasn’t sure how early it was yet. Katrine could be heard walking up and down the stairs loudly, and once he was ready, he decided to poke his head out of the door to see what the commotion was about. Upon further inspection, she seemed to be bringing some furs downstairs.

“What’s going on?” asked Carl, curious at how determined and stern Katrine looked about carrying some fabric.

“Tobi wants you. Breakfast is downstairs,” she said in an uninterested tone.

Confused at why Katrine was like this - although not enough to bother asking further. Tobi, meanwhile, was sitting at the breakfast table, and drinking some warm coffee. His plate was dotted with brown crumbs, and he smiled softly when he saw Carl. Taking another sip of his drink, he looked up and smiled.

“Good morning, Carl. Did you hear the bumping last night? I hope you slept well.”

Carl nodded. He was contemplating whether or not to bring up what he had seen last night, or if he should just say it was a rat. He came to the conclusion that it was best to say nothing at all for the time being, and butter some bread. His cousin poured him some coffee, and as he did so, he felt a pressure to speak. It was odd. He hadn’t felt inclined by his instincts in regards to whether he should do such petty things as speaking and looking out windows. This was all a little peculiar to him. Like nothing he’d felt before.

“Are there vagabonds running around with spades at night? I saw one in the woods, whacking a tree with a spade or something. Are people like that… common? At least around here, that is,” Carl asked.

Tobi’s eyes squinted knowingly, as if there was an unspoken connection between them. “Miners, perhaps. Former miners. When they get injured and out of work, I think some of them just go mad. It’s not like they have anyone there for them. But that’s what we’re going to change today. I’m really eager for you to meet the folk at church! Honest, good folk who want to make some change.”

“And, are these mines near the caves?”

Tobi sighed at Carl’s question, obviously not wishing to continue this charade. “I thought you’ve read about this place. Yes, of course, what other mines would there be?”

“Just checking,” Carl replied meekly.

Carl continued quietly with his breakfast, although Tobi ended up initiating some small talk. They reminisced about the old days in this town, and discussed what life was like in Britain. Carl was eager to discuss his historical findings, as well as the details of the Norwegian Society. Tobi tried to hide his disinterest, although enthusiastically turned around when Katrine entered the room.

“My love! Are we ready to depart?”

Katrine smiled, slightly amused by Tobi’s enthusiasm, and nodded. “We’d best be going, if Carl is done. Are you finished?”

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Carl nodded, and rose to his feet. The three put on their coats and boots, and made their way towards the church. As they made their way along the path, Carl looked around in the direction of the tree from last night. He wasn’t able to make it out, however, and he was soon interrupted by some of Tobi’s smalltalk.

“So, Selby Church again. I’m sure you’ve even unearthed ones more interesting than ours,” Tobi jested. “Have you gone to Greece?”

Carl smiled. “Well, I hope to after this. That’s why I want to wrap this up so quickly.”

Katrine was immediately intrigued. “Does that mean you’ll be leaving us soon?”

Tobi made a glance at Katrine, but Carl did not seem to notice the implied insult. He merely looked up to the sky, and smirked yet again. “Well, not if Tobi keeps me from those caves and gets me involved in his little church club.”

“A little charity and faith will bring you back to earth,” said Tobi. “Perhaps you’ll learn something they don’t teach in London”

“I wouldn’t pay so much for university if I could learn in a church, Tobi. That being said, I’m sure there are some pleasant people in there. It’ll be nice to know more than one person here.

Katrine blurted out a sound, but shook her head. Tobi and Carl didn’t even seem to notice her objection. Shaking her head and grumbling, she said nothing as the two men kept discussing things of little note. She noticed a half-eaten bird skeleton near the graveyard fence, and cringed a little. Carl noticed her this time, and looked at the skeleton as well. He furrowed his brow, remembering that only a day ago it was still rotting. He figured some animal had leapt over and decided to take a few bites from the animal, but the sight was repulsive and nauseating no matter what had caused it.

Tobi led the way to the front of the church, where a few other men and women were standing about. As Carl followed him, he felt a strange spiritual comfort and nostalgia. The stone walls and familiar rubble masonry brought back thoughts of his childhood. Perhaps it was the link to his youthful naivete, but there was something special about this church, as if it were holy as can be. He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t notice Tobi introducing him to someone.

“Hello there!”

Carl looked at the man who greeted him, and extended a hand. The man shook it firmly, and smiled. He was a corpulent fellow with a friendly face and impressive black facial hair.

“Doctor Lande. It’s good to meet a fellow intellectual in these parts.What brings you here? Zoology perhaps? There have been some interesting ongoings with the local fauna, and I’d love to read any paper explaining that.”

Carl seemed intrigued by this comment, and especially the fact that it seemed to make Tobi freeze a little. Ironically, it was Tobi for once who was excluded from the conversations, as Katrine was eagerly discussing something with a finely dressed lady who he presumed to be Lande’s wife. Remembering that it would be polite to reply to the doctor, and thinking about what the animal occurrences could be, he scoured his brain for a meaningful response.

“I can’t say I’m aware of anything recent. I know that this town was once known for its shepherds, but I’m more interested in the local caves. Supposedly, they’ve preserved many items of high historical value. Tobi seems apprehensive about letting me see them, although he didn’t explain why.”

Lande stroked his thick moustache, and thought for a few seconds. “Hm, I think a disease has been making the rounds up there.”

“Tuberculosis?”

“Possibly,” responded Lande

Carl smiled, feeling relieved that a doctor had confirmed his suspicions. Or at least, confirmed them more than Tobi did. He then stood on his toes to try and see the mountains across the horizon, and was about to speak up again. However, Lande interrupted with some basic smalltalk about Oslo. He seemed incredibly interested in the city and university, claiming that he attended. As Carl answered more and more questions, the caves wandered away from his mind, and he was absorbed in the idle chatter.

“Do you think this town has a fox problem?” asked Katrine to her friend.

The well-dressed lady, Merete, thought for a few seconds, before looking towards the graveyard.

“Probably. It’s dreadful how they attack the nests and little chicks. I hope the cat is okay.”

Katrine looked around. “Where is she, anyway?”

“Inside. She’s usually with the priest now he’s got sick. Should we go in? It’s rather cold.”

As Merete said this, Tobi turned, and suddenly nodded, before gesturing Lande and Carl to follow inside behind him. As they walked into the church, they noticed Carl stop for a few seconds. Contrary to his expectations, it was far more resplendent than when he was younger. He gave a cold glance to Tobi, though his glare slowly softened. It probably wasn’t his fault, but it didn’t make sense why a holy place like this should look so much more pleasant when they wanted to use the money to help the town. No wonder everybody was sick… He also glanced at Doctor Lande, sizing him up. Why did he seem so unperturbed about an epidemic of such a deadly nature? Glumly, he sunk into his pew, catching the nasty scent of fish from somewhere to his left. He peeked his head around, looking around for people who might be the source of the stench. It was absolutely ghastly. He sunk his head, wondering again why this town was so dreadful.

Finally, Father Olav wobbled up to the front of the congregation. The wrinkles were ploughed harshly into his face, and his eyes were sunken. From the squelching of his footsteps to the corpse-like colour of his face, he was unrecognisable from the lovable and sweet man in his youth. Yet as he raised his arms and smiled, he seemed so familiar and like his old sweet self. As if he was wrestling against this plague. As if he hardly cared.

His words were comforting and his anecdotes almost too relatable for a man of the cloth, but they brought Carl back to his childhood, when he sat in the same room, and would look at the old etchings and dates and memorials on the wall. There were few things back then, but now there were paintings and statues that could be added no longer than a few years ago. Carl had so many questions, although he felt as if he would have offended someone if he asked afterwards. After all, Tobi had already seemed uninterested with many of his points, and Lande seemingly didn’t care about anything in this town. For an exciting church group, they hardly seemed very useful. As the sermon ended, Carl felt a slight tap on his shoulder, and looked behind him. There was Merete, and she whispered something into his ear.

“You see it, right?”

Carl looked behind him, and then noticed the horrific fish stench. Next to the two was a skinny grey cat. He looked at it with confusion, and held his nose, wondering why it smelled so awful.

“Why doesn’t he wash that thing?” asked Carl. “It’s the most pungent animal I’ve come across.”

Merete shrugged. “It’s cute. I meant more Father Olav. Tell me, when you were younger, did he look anything like that?”

Carl found the question incredibly weird. “Well, it’s definitely him. I couldn’t forget him, not when he speaks the same way as he always has. He’s definitely sick, though. Not in spirit, but definitely in the flesh.”

“I’m not sure. I get a weird feeling about everyone. Especially him. Something’s wrong.”

Carl’s eyes lit up again, as if someone finally recognised what he was saying. “Thank you! You see it too, right? It’s insane here!”

Merete nodded. “Have you talked about it with Katrine?”

Carl froze for a second, and glanced at Katrine. He realised he had no idea what she thought, because they’d barely even talked. With a slight shame in his voice, he shook his head. “No. We haven’t talked much. But perhaps I should speak with Olav. He, at least, might remember me.”

Merete nodded, and then turned to Katrine. As Carl stood up, he could see them discussing something, but wasn’t exactly sure what. The holy feeling he had felt from this face felt like it was being worn away by the tide of paranoia in his heart. He took one more glance at the cat which, while relatively cute, smelled so rotten. He also noticed that the thin carpet between the pews was far more vibrant than he remembered. Coming closer to the queue in front of the pastor, and finally getting to speak to him, he noticed how nobody seemed to keep their distance from the clearly ill man. And as the man in front of him moved away, Father Olav embraced Carl, and held him by his shoulders. His smile was so genuine, so free and almost ignorant of the peculiar town and world around him, and so warm.

“I’ve just come here, father, and I want to leave,” Carl trembled. As he said those words, he froze for a second, not recalling ever having wanted to speak such words. Yet as he was about to correct himself, Olav interrupted.

“Be strong and of good courage, do not fear nor be afraid of the terrors of this town, for you are watched by God. He will not leave you nor forsake you. Just like I told you all those years before. You did not run from London when you feared it, and look to what heights you have soared! Be steadfast, Carl.”

There was a strange nostalgia and disconnect hearing his words and yet seeing his awful face. It almost reminded him of the town itself.

Carl felt sick.