Daniel (20 page)

He turned on his heel and left. The blacksmith lingered behind.

‘How the devil can you exhibit people as if they're in a menagerie?' he said. ‘Insects you can stick on pins. But people? No, damn it.'

He placed one of his big hands on Daniel's head before he left. Hake had already vanished from the hall. The man with the hat had now regained his original size.

‘Everything worked out,' he said with a satisfied look. ‘I have a calling card here, from one of those present this evening. He said he will contact you tomorrow. He has a proposal for you.'

‘A proposal for what?'

‘Business. What else would one propose?'

Father stuck the card in his pocket. The banknotes had improved his mood. He took his bag of insects and headed for the door. Daniel followed him. They went out into the city, which was dark. Daniel longed for the water. In the darkness he thought he could glimpse Kiko now and then, but it was nothing but weary, huddled people who had never seen an antelope.

 

Early the next day, as Father was busy shaving and Daniel sat by the window looking down at the street, there was a knock at the door. Father nodded to Daniel to open it. A man who was very fat and had short legs came into the room. He was wearing a red overcoat and was bareheaded. Over his shoes he wore multicoloured spats. Even though he was fat and swollen, he seemed quite agile. His face was childlike, utterly lacking in character.

‘Herr Bengler perhaps received my calling card last night?'

Father wiped off his shaving soap and picked up the card lying next to the washbasin.

‘August Wickberg, Master of Ceremonies,' he read.

The fat man had already taken the liberty of sitting down, placing his large behind on the only cushioned chair in the room.

‘I hope I haven't come too early.'

‘The poor do not have the luxury of sleeping in.'

‘Precisely. That's why I'm here.'

Father sat down on the edge of the bed. He motioned for Daniel to sit next to him.

‘A lovely couple,' said Wickberg. ‘If a bit mismatched.'

‘What exactly does a “master of ceremonies” do?'

‘I handle persons such as you two, who have something unusual to offer but who have no idea how to turn a profit.'

Father shook his head warily. ‘So you're some sort of fairground barker?'

‘Not at all. I work only with serious propositions. Insects, yes, but not high-kicking dwarfs who turn somersaults. Displaying people who are black is educational, in contrast to seductive ladies rolling about with lazy pythons wrapped round their necks. We live in an age in which serious matters are assuming more and more importance.'

Father burst out laughing. ‘That's hardly my impression.'

‘You've been away a long time. Things are changing fast. A couple of years ago one could travel about the country and gather audiences who would pay to see a man who poked in the ground for old bronze as a main attraction. That may no longer be possible but some day it will be again. People are not merely looking for diversion, Herr Bengler, but culture.'

‘Just like Baron Hake, then?'

‘That man is a hypocrite, if you'll pardon the expression. He ingratiates himself with the real friends of the workers, but actually he hates them. Conditions at his ironworks in Roslagen are said to be outrageous. People are treated like slaves. In order not to become a topic in parliament, he undertook to protect the workers' association. A few months ago there was supposed to be a lecture and discussion about “The Meaning of Life”. Invited speakers were a journeyman tailor and a Lutheran pastor. The tailor was never given the floor, since the pastor was busy preaching. The lieutenants had called in their orderlies to fill the seats. The tailor's friends had to stand out in the rain and freeze. But Baron Hake had lured one of those radical members of parliament
to come, and he later went home and wrote a motion to introduce a bill against irresponsible attacks on the owners of Swedish ironworks.'

Wickberg fell silent, out of breath after his long speech. He pulled out a hip flask and took a swallow and then offered it to Father.

‘French cognac.'

Father drank and smacked his lips contentedly.

‘It tastes like morning. Especially when the evening before ended in chaos,' said Wickberg.

‘You had a proposal of some sort?'

‘Most definitely.'

Again Wickberg began to speak. He spoke for a long time. Daniel tried to follow his words, but they rattled out of his mouth and finally became only a pressure in his ears. Daniel had moved close to Father. In the mornings he needed to feel his body warmth to stay calm. Father put his arm around him as he listened. When Wickberg stopped talking he asked some questions and received answers. Then Wickberg handed him some papers which he read through carefully. In the meantime Wickberg pulled out a wad of banknotes from one of his stockings and placed it on the table. From one of the voluminous pockets in his coat he then took out a small wooden box in which he kept an inkwell and pen. Father signed one of the papers. Then they drank again from the hip flask before Wickberg got up, bowed and left. Father picked Daniel up in his arms.

‘So, something good came of last night after all. I knew it. When I was in the desert I learned never to lose faith. Now we can leave this damn room and move to decent quarters. But first we have to do a little travelling.'

Daniel knew what
travelling
meant. It made him nervous. Maybe they would head into the forest again, where there was no water.

 

A few hours later they moved out of the attic room after Father argued with the landlord about the rent. Again their luggage was pulled on a cart through the narrow alleyways. By now Daniel was used to having people stare at him. He didn't look down and he noticed that if he returned their stares they would turn their faces away.

They didn't go far. The alley opened onto a body of water, and Daniel felt his worry ebb away. They went across a bridge and then
stopped at a boat by the dock that was puffing smoke from its black smokestack. The baggage was stowed on board and Daniel stood at Father's side when the lines were cast off.

‘We're not going far,' said Father. ‘We'll be there this evening. This isn't a sea, but a lake.'

Daniel tried to figure out what the difference could be between a sea and a lake. The water looked the same. He wanted to ask, but Father had lain down behind the luggage, pulled his coat over his head and gone to sleep. Daniel stood and looked at the city slowly disappearing behind them. Around him there were always curious people looking and pointing, but he didn't care any more. Father seemed to be content, and they were close to water. That was the only thing that was important.

When Father woke up they went below deck and sat at a table with a white tablecloth and ate lunch. Daniel noticed that Father always acted differently when he had money. He was no longer hesitant, his movements were resolute.

‘We're going to display the insects,' he said when they had finished eating. ‘Wickberg is a good man. He's setting up a tour for us, I'm being well paid, and if it goes well we can keep doing it. But now you have to promise me not to start climbing on people's heads when I lift up the cloth. Otherwise Wickberg will take back his money and we'll have to move back to the room in the attic. Do you understand what I'm saying?'

‘Yes, Father.'

‘You promise that it won't happen again?'

‘Yes, Father.'

Father reached out his hand and placed it on Daniel's.

‘What actually happened? I saw something in your eyes. As if you had discovered something.'

‘It was Kiko,' Daniel replied.

He thought that now he could now explain everything to Father, and he wouldn't get angry or shake his head.

‘Kiko?'

Daniel realised that Father didn't know who Kiko was. He had never asked about the life Daniel had lived before he ended up in the pen at Andersson's. How was he going to explain that before him there was a man named Kiko?

‘Kiko,' Father said again.

‘He and Be were the ones who raised me. Kiko painted an antelope on a rock. He taught me about the gods. One day he was dead, like Be.'

Daniel spoke very slowly. He searched for the right words and tried to pronounce them as clearly as possible. Father looked at him in astonishment.

‘You're talking,' he said. ‘Whole sentences!'

It was as if he had forgotten about Kiko and hadn't heard what Daniel said.

‘You're a remarkable boy,' Father went on. ‘You've already begun to learn Swedish. You talk like me, with a Småland dialect. And yet you come from a desert far, far away.'

Daniel waited for Father to ask about Kiko, but he went on and on about the language, about the fact that Daniel could speak.
What
he said was of no importance.

 

Late in the afternoon they arrived at a small town where they put ashore. Wickberg stood waiting on the quay. Next to him were two boys with a cart. Wickberg had turned his red coat inside out so that the grey lining was on the outside. He nodded with pleasure as he shook Father's hand and patted Daniel on the head.

‘Everything will be fine. The mayor, who is an amateur botanist, is lending us the meeting room in the town hall. He promises a large turnout. Handwritten posters have been put up. But for Strängnäs they're going to be printed. A ghastly snake swallowing a person. A black man with a spear. To draw people in, it looks like the black man is naked.'

Daniel saw Father frown.

‘I'm not showing any snakes.'

‘That doesn't matter.'

‘I want it to be truthful and scientific.'

‘Snakes are good. They bring in the crowds. In Strängnäs we can use a smaller snake.'

Wickberg broke off the conversation and they set off for town.

‘It's important to look up,' Father muttered.

Daniel wondered what he meant. He looked up at the rooftops, at the clouds. But he didn't see any danger threatening.

That evening Daniel was sitting under his linen tablecloth again. He practised what he was going to say and promised himself not to run towards Kiko even if he was there.

Father gave a better speech that evening. Daniel could hear that. He wasn't nervous and his voice was steady and firm. Sometimes he also managed to get a laugh from the audience. Daniel thought he ought to feel grateful to Father. Even though he had taken him along on this unbelievable journey, kidnapped him, he did have good intentions towards Daniel, although it wasn't clear what they were. On occasion he used to hear the grown-ups talking about trials that made people stronger. Kiko's brother Uk had once been wounded by a leopard, and he dragged himself a long way with a broken leg. That had been a trial. It had taught not only Uk but the others in the family to be even more careful when any of the big cats were in the area. But he had no idea what trial he himself would have to go through. Maybe it was as simple a task as learning something that only one white man had been able to do before: to walk on water.

He felt Father's hand on his head, the firm grip around the cloth. When it was slowly pulled away he was ready. A murmur passed through the hall. He heard a woman laugh hysterically, but he didn't lose his composure. He bowed, said his words and stood quite still. Kiko wasn't in the hall. Father smiled at him and then opened Daniel's mouth so everyone could see his teeth. Father squeezed and pulled on his arms, but not so hard that it hurt. When Daniel puffed out his cheeks the audience applauded. Afterwards he sat quietly when people came forward to look at him.

I wonder what it is they see, he thought. Judging by their eyes I think they see something that fills them with uneasiness. Not fear, not amazement, but uneasiness.

At last it was all over. Wickberg strutted about rubbing his hands. His stockings were bulging with money.

‘This is going to go well,' he said. ‘Tomorrow in Strängnäs we might extend the performance and stay two days.'

‘But no snakes,' said Father, closing his bag.

‘No big ones, at least,' replied Wickberg, vanishing out of the door.

Father nodded to Daniel.

‘Tonight we're staying at a hotel,' he said. ‘And now dinner awaits.'

At the same moment the door at the back of the hall opened and a woman came in. She was dressed in black but with a red veil around her hat.

 

When Daniel saw her face he knew at once that something important was about to happen.

But he couldn't say what it was.