We, the Drowned - Carsten Jensen [166]
"This will help you wake up."
The boy scratched his head with one hand and took the cup with the other.
"Blow on it."
The boy blew and kept his lips tentatively pursed as he slurped his first mouthful. He made a face. Albert took the cup from him and added a teaspoon of sugar.
"Now try it."
The boy took another sip and smiled. Albert pulled the woolen sweater over the boy's head. He'd already put on his own Icelandic one.
They slipped the mooring at Prinsebroen and started rowing out of the harbor entrance. The boy huddled on the thwart, shivering with tiredness and cold. Albert passed him an oar.
"Lend me a hand, will you?" he said.
The boy positioned himself on the aft thwart, then stuck the oar into the water and started moving it between his hands with a rolling motion, twisting it in the water like a screw. He was sculling, a technique Albert had taught him.
They passed Dampskibsbroen and headed for Ristinge. Knud Erik had warmed up and they made good speed across the bright, glassy water. Theirs was the only boat out this early. An hour later they reached Sorekrogen. The nets were brimming with shrimp.
"There'll be some for your mother too," Albert said.
They made themselves comfortable on the thwarts with the pancakes. The sun was now clear of the horizon, igniting a low-hanging stripe of cloud. Apart from that the sky was clear.
"It'll be beach weather today," Albert declared.
"Tell me about the shrunken head," Knud Erik said.
A few hours later they were back at the entrance to the harbor. The sun was higher in the sky and Albert could already feel its warmth, though it was still early in the morning. They passed Dampskibsbroen and approached Prinsebroen. Knud Erik went to the bow and readied the boat for mooring with accomplished ease. Albert filled a bucket with shrimp, then took the boy home to Snaregade. The boy raced through the door with the bucket in his hand.
His mother appeared in the doorway.
"Thank you for the shrimp, Captain Madsen. Now, why are you standing outside? Do come in, please."
She stepped aside to allow him to enter through the narrow doorway. He tried making himself small, but he brushed her with his arm all the same. He knew his way around and walked to the sofa. A cup had already been put out for him. She disappeared into the kitchen and returned with the coffeepot.
"Shrimp fishing is a good business," Albert said. "Knud Erik will be a prosperous man."
Her face tightened. "We can't accept money."
"It's not a gift, Mrs. Friis. He's worked hard and it's only fair that he should get his share."
Knud Erik started jumping up and down in excitement.
"Go find your swimming trunks and a towel. And then you can run over to the beach."
"Really, can I, can I?" By now his jumping had built up a rhythm.
"Yes, of course. Now be off with you."
He rushed to the kitchen and returned a moment later with a rolled-up towel. He was about to tear through the hall with his hand raised in a goodbye gesture, when he stopped abruptly, went over to Albert and stuck out his hand. He bowed stiffly and thanked him for the day. Albert placed his hand on the boy's head and ruffled his hair gently. "You're welcome."
"He's a lovely boy," he said, once Knud Erik was out the door. "Take good care of him."
"You already do that for me."
She smiled again and he looked up. Their eyes met and he couldn't decide if it had been by chance. He felt that he ought to look elsewhere but seemed paralyzed. He was aware of a smile spreading uncontrollably across his face. Klara Friis's cheeks slowly reddened. She too seemed unable to break away from the moment, which kept expanding, from seconds to minutes to what felt like wondrous weightless hours. At last she looked down. He felt a sudden shame, as if he'd molested her. He had to stop himself from apologizing, even though nothing had happened.
He cleared his throat. "Thanks for the coffee."
She gave him a confused