The Ice Palace (10 page)

‘I’m all right again now. I’m to start school tomorrow.’

Suddenly she felt no dread. Instead it was safe and right to be sitting there.

Auntie continued, ‘I knew that was why you didn’t come, because you couldn’t. It wasn’t because you didn’t dare, or because you thought it would be awkward. But I’ve been expecting you.’

Siss did not reply.

Auntie left her to sit for a little while. Then she came and sat down beside her.

‘Perhaps you’d like to ask me about Unn?’ she said. ‘You must ask if you want to.’

‘What?’ said Siss, who had been sitting steeling herself for questions.

‘What do you most want to ask?’

‘Nothing,’ said Siss.

‘Is it
so
secret?’ asked Auntie, and Siss did not understand her.

Then she exclaimed: ‘Aren’t they going to find her soon?’

‘I hope they will every day, but …’

Didn’t Auntie believe it any more? Her voice sounded a little strange.

‘Would you like to look in?’

‘Yes.’

Auntie opened the door of the little bedroom. Siss took a quick look to see if everything was the same as before. The
mirror, the chair, the bed, the album on its shelf. That was there. Of course, not many days had passed since -

But nothing in here must be disturbed, she thought. It must stay like that till she comes back.

‘Sit down in the chair,’ said Auntie.

Siss sat in the chair, as she had done last time. Auntie sat on the edge of the bed. It was rather odd. Then Siss burst out, ‘Why
is
Unn like this?’

‘Isn’t Unn as she should be, then?’ asked Auntie cautiously.

They were careful to talk as if Unn were alive.

Siss replied defiantly, ‘Unn’s nice.’

‘Yes, and wasn’t she happy, too, the other evening?’

‘She wasn’t
only
happy,’ said Siss, forgetting.

‘I didn’t know Unn before she lost her mother last spring,’ said Auntie. ‘Of course I had met her, but I didn’t know her. And you know her even less, Siss. She can’t be only happy when her mother died so soon.’

‘There was something else, too.’

Siss started as she said it. Too late. It was dangerous to be in there.

‘Oh?’ said Auntie unconcernedly.

Siss retreated hastily. ‘Oh, I don’t
know
anything. She didn’t tell me anything about it.’

There she was again – in the fateful circle from which she could not escape. Auntie came up to her. Siss was embarrassed and nervous. What Unn had said was for her, Siss, and not for her kind aunt.

Auntie stood over her and told her, ‘They’ve been here asking and asking until I’m just about worn out, Siss. Asking about everything to do with Unn. I know they’ve been at you, too. They had to. There was nothing else to do.’

She paused. Siss was nervous. She had known it would end like this if she came, but still … She must brace herself.

‘You must forgive my asking you, too, but I am Unn’s aunt – and I think there is a difference. You see, I know nothing about Unn, except what everyone else knows and has seen. She didn’t tell me anything, and that’s how it was all the time. Did Unn say anything special to you that evening?’

‘No!’

Auntie looked at her. Siss returned her gaze defiantly. Auntie retreated.

‘No, of course you don’t know any more than we do. It’s not likely that Unn would have told you all sorts of things the very first time you met.’

‘No, it isn’t,’ said Siss, determined not to be shaken now. ‘But supposing Unn doesn’t come back?’ she asked without thinking, gave a start and regretted it.

‘You shouldn’t ask that, Siss.’

‘No.’

She got a reply to her questions all the same.

‘You may as well know that I’ve thought about that, too. If Unn doesn’t come back I shall sell this house and go away. I don’t think I can stay here – even though I had Unn for only six months.

‘Well, well,’ she added. ‘We won’t talk about
that.
It doesn’t mean that Unn won’t come back just because she hasn’t done so yet. Nothing shall be disturbed here. Don’t worry.’

How could she have known
that?
thought Siss.

‘I must go home,’ she said anxiously.

‘Yes, of course you must. Thank you for coming.’

She thinks I know something. I shan’t come again.

Auntie was just as placid and friendly as she had been the whole time.

Siss hurried home. A good thing that was over and done with.

Siss arrived in the schoolyard the next morning. As usual it was not quite daylight yet.

They surrounded her at once. Three or four of them who were there already stood around her in a circle. Siss was popular.

‘Oh, there you are!’

‘Are you better?’

‘Was it awful that night?’

‘And, just think, they can’t find a trace of Unn!’

Siss answered yes and no. They stared at her a little but took it no further.

More came, and soon Siss was standing in a tight circle. Not just the girls, the boys as well. They were all about the same age. In all the rumpus they would willingly have done whatever Siss told them to. She saw the happiness in their eyes at this renewed morning meeting. It was good to see, but she did not for a moment forget her solemn promise. It was here that it would be tested.

‘We went out searching, too,’ a few of them told her proudly.

‘Yes, I know.’

What had happened to Unn had filled the days with tension and shock – with Unn at the centre like a dark shadow. It was already easier to think about; they were no longer part of it – and here was Siss standing among them looking almost the same as before. They were happy. She noticed one or two of them whom she had previously had to
reckon with as equals but who now stood there embarrassed and happy, too. She could not help noticing it – and because she had made the promise and was going to keep away from them she remembered scores of pleasant things they had done together. And because she had made the promise all this became a lump in her throat.

The atmosphere was tense. Not for the friendly crowd but for Siss it was all of a sudden distinctly tense.

Somebody could not help asking a question that was in everyone’s mind. ‘What
was
it?’

Siss started as if cut with a knife, but it was too late to stop the questioner.

‘They say Unn told you something you wouldn’t –’

Someone said sharply, ‘Hush!’

But too late. It was done. At that very moment when Siss had so little resistance it came pouring over her yet again. She found herself jumping at them. She was energetic and used to be able to jump so as to scare them, so she jumped at them shouting wildly, ‘I can’t stand it!’

Then she threw herself into the heap of snow right in front of them and burst into tears.

The circle stood at a loss. They had not expected this. It was so unlike the Siss they knew. Siss lay there crying. Finally one of the boys went over and dug down to her with his snow-covered boot. The others looked at each other or away. The weather was thick and blind again that day and seemed to be saying boo!

The boy did not say it.

‘Siss,’ he said, very kindly and nudged her with his boot.

She looked up at him.

That one?

He had always been in the background before; nobody
had bothered about him. He just tagged along.

She got up, and nobody said anything. They brushed the snow off her back with quick strokes. And then fortunately the teacher arrived to begin the ordinary school day.

Siss was given a friendly nod from the charge desk when they were all in their places. She was certain he would not question her once.

‘All right again, Siss?’

‘Yes.’

‘That’s good.’

It was sufficient. At once the atmosphere was easier. She thought, too, about the boy who had nudged her so kindly with his boot. She could see the back of his neck from where she was sitting. She was grateful, the morning turned out to be easier than she had expected, much easier than it had looked with that unfortunate beginning. There seemed to be such a thin, thin cover on everything.

She had looked quickly to see whether Unn’s place had been kept empty. Yes, nobody had moved there, even though it would have been convenient, the way the desks were placed.

Siss was left in peace for the rest of the day. She stood alone by the wall, and the others accepted this for the time being. They were probably rather ashamed after what had happened that morning. And there was no whispering or chatter about Unn and the search; they had probably whispered themselves out and become tired of it. It had only flared up for a moment when Siss arrived. After all, Unn had never really been one of them; she had been an outsider, acquiring respect but nothing more.

Siss suddenly noticed that she was standing by the wall
just as Unn had done, while the noise of play rose up a short distance away, just as usual. One of the girls looked as if she had taken over the leadership in a short space of time.

And I’m going to stand here. I’ve promised.

The noise merely continued.

Siss did not reflect on the fact that it merely continued, but it was rather strange and unfamiliar to be standing as she was now. It felt like that to begin with, then it was a relief.

The days righted themselves and gathered speed. Christmas came as usual. Not as usual for Siss, though, for she stayed at home and invited nobody. They allowed her to do as she liked; gradually everyone had realized how tense Siss was. Out of doors the snow piled higher.

The snow piled higher, and still Unn did not appear.

The search was probably going on somewhere or other – here in the drifts there was no longer any sign of it. People were probably not thinking about it every day either. The snow sifted down, blanketing everything, out of doors and in people’s minds.

Auntie, all alone, did not visit anyone during the Christmas holiday, but there were people who visited her. Siss did not dare. She waited in fear for the news that Auntie had sold her house and was going to move. When she did that she would have given up all hope.

Auntie was still there.

Siss had a desire to go to her mother and ask, ‘Don’t you think about Unn any more either?’

It looked as if everyone had forgotten Unn. Siss never heard her mentioned. She did not ask her mother, but she felt as if she were alone with a burden which would become too heavy. She thought often about the night at the ice
palace. The men seemed to have made
that
the place. When the surface became right for skiing towards spring she would go there.

All the same she went to her mother and made her accusation but in more general terms. ‘They’re not thinking about Unn any more.’

‘Who isn’t?’

‘Nobody is!’ said Siss, even though she had not meant to. It had gone dark, and then she had said it.

Her mother answered calmly, ‘How do you know, my girl?’

Siss said nothing.

‘And then nobody knew Unn. It’s unreasonable, but it makes it seem different. People have a lot to think about, you see.’ Mother looked at Siss and added:
‘You’re the person who can think about Unn all the time.’

As if Siss had been given a great gift.

Now it is night – and what is this?

It is the gift.

I don’t understand.

It is night, and I have been given a great gift.

Been given something and I don’t know what it is. I don’t understand at all. The gift looks at me wherever I go.

The gift stands and waits.

It isn’t snowing now. It’s clear weather. The drifts are huge. They have wiped out all the traces that might have been made, filled up all the hiding places. Great stars hang above the snow, and my gift stands outside and waits for me or comes in and sits down with me.

I feel I have been given it, and yet …

It’s not windy either. If a storm were to set in, the loose snow would start swirling. The wind would roar and moan in the hills – but my gift is indoors and is for me and waits for me.

It’s quiet indoors; quiet up in the topmost attic with the dark little window. I believe my gift is standing up there at the window now, looking out – as it waits for me to see it.

It is everywhere I go, and I know that this is a great gift. What shall I do with it?

It was silly of me to have been frightened. There’s nobody at the sides of the road. Unn will most likely come when the mild wind brings the thaw.

She’ll come if the mild wind has to blow a thousand
times! I know she will and I shan’t think about anything else. I have been given a great gift.

The wild bird with steel claws drew a slanting stripe between two peaks in no time at all. He did not settle but climbed once more, slicing his way on. No rest, no certain goal for his perpetual flight.

Beneath him spread the winter landscape. It was desolate where he travelled. He sliced it into shreds beneath his eyes. His eyes seemed to send invisible lightning and splinters of glass through the frosty air, and they saw everything.

Here he was master – and it was empty of life for that reason. His bristling claws were cold as ice. The freezing wind moaned between them as he flew.

The bird, slicing up the desolate moors into shreds and spirals, was death. If, after all, something was alive down among the bushes or trees, the eye would flash lightning and a slanting stripe slice down, leaving even less life than before.

He saw nothing that resembled himself.

He hovered above the great moors daily, perpetually in flight, never tired.

He will not die.

A violent snowstorm had passed over the moors. In exposed places the snow had been blown away. The drifts were loose, there had been no mild spell to pack them. Now they were whirled into enormous waves. Clear weather followed with cold sunshine. High above, in the air above the ice palace, the slashing eye of the bird watched these alterations of contour.

Today the snow on the palace had been swept away, so that it appeared in its true shape. The bird noticed the change and sent a lightning slash downwards: the splintering eyes first, and himself following. He made an abrupt turn in the middle of his stripe, swung in order to brake, came on again and sliced close by the wall of ice. Then he climbed to a dizzy height and turned into a small black speck in the sky.