Table of Contents Table of Contents
Previous Page  26 / 238 Next Page
Show Menu
Previous Page 26 / 238 Next Page
Page Background


Louise was emptied of everything that foreign countries

have: figs, Aquavit, cotton, planed choice timber, coffee;

there were even crates of apples. Oddur dexterously

managed to open one without being seen, stuck two apples

beneath his coat, and now, as the storm tears apart the June

light, howls over the houses and makes the mountains

rumble, the three of them sit there, Oddur, Rakel, and Lúlli,

at Oddur and Lúlli’s, they’ve sliced the apple and slowly eat

this fruit that has drunk in the sunshine and tenderness of

faraway worlds. Rakel smiles; dear God, how delightful it is

to see her smile in closeup, as the storm shakes this little

house furiously, the world has turned into one continuous

howl. Whence comes this savage power, now, when the

month of June should be plover song over our existence?

Oddur had stopped in to see Rakel towards evening, after

they’d finished unloading Louise; we saw what was in the

offing, the darkening clouds, rising wind, a rumble or two

from the mountains, as if it were too much for them to

restrain their suppressed wrath. Oddur wanted her to join

them, what with a storm in the wings, well, or at least foul

weather, and he also had a little something that he and

Lúlli wanted to share with her; nor is there any need for you

to be alone in such foul weather. But she’s often been alone

in foul weather, malicious winter storms and she’s never

been afraid, the only storm that she fears is the one in

people; to be more precise, in men, which is worse,

infinitely worse, when it’s not enough to dress warmly, take

shelter, it penetrates you and fills you with anxiety, fear,