We, the Drowned - Carsten Jensen [321]
Old Funny defended himself. "I confess to nothing," he said. "Ivar's death wasn't murder. Some men can take it, others can't. I was just testing him and that's all there is to it." He looked around the company, and several men nodded.
"And Miss Kristina?" Knud Erik persisted.
Yes, that had been stupid. He was happy to admit it. He flung out his jerking-off hand as if to say, all things considered, it was a trifle.
"You've ruined lives!" Knud Erik was angry now.
Well, he supposed he had, Herman admitted. He didn't add: Look at me now. But his body did, and that was enough. It was all in the past. No more evil would come from him.
Knud Erik got up and left, but the story continued. Nothing could stop it now.
Old Funny told them about the night he broke the curfew in Setúbal. Was he boasting or telling the truth? It was hard to tell. He'd certainly been one hell of a guy once. Anyone could tell that his audience thought so, just from their faces.
The story spread in every direction and contracted again until it formed a protective ring around the Nimbus.
Bluetooth lay awake in his cradle and his telescope eyes wandered from face to face. He was exploring the universe as usual, and he looked as if he understood it all.
The crew had found true fellowship around the table in the mess, however reluctantly and unwillingly at first. Old Funny had helped them become the "us" that every ship needs. Even Knud Erik conceded it.
WHEN THEY ARRIVED at Liverpool, Herman asked to see the captain. Their meeting took place on the deck where Knud Erik had introduced him to the crew and Herman had first revealed that his trouser legs were empty. He hadn't come to say goodbye and thank you. Instead, he requested permission to stay on board the Nimbus. After all, they were fellow Danes, from the same town. He believed he could be useful around the mess and as a lookout. And he'd like to remind the captain that on one occasion he'd saved the ship from a torpedo.
Knud Erik shook his head. At this, for the first and only time, Herman seemed to crack.
"Look at me," he said. "They'll shove me into some home."
"They can lock you up and throw away the key, for all I care."
"What's going to become of me?" Herman looked down. He was pathetic now, and his misery only heightened Knud Erik's rage.
"As far as I know, nothing stands in the way of hanging a man with no legs and only one arm."
The crew was standing some distance away, whispering. They could tell, from Old Funny's slumped figure, the way the negotiations were going. Absalon came up to them.
"Captain," he said, "we've drawn up a petition." He handed Knud Erik a piece of paper. Knud Erik cast his eyes over the list. Practically the entire crew was demanding to keep Old Funny on board; the only ones who hadn't signed were Anton and Vilhjelm. Sophie's signature was missing too; he assumed she didn't want to get involved. Besides, she didn't count as a crew member.
"I'll think about it."
He asked Anton and Vilhjelm to come to his cabin.
"Will you sign off if I keep him?"
They both shook their heads. "We'll stay," Anton said. "The Nimbus is a good ship, and though I hate to admit it, I think Herman has a share in that. We knew you'd say no. We just wanted to show you that we're on your side. I hate the bastard, but sometimes you have to rise above your own feelings."
Knud Erik pondered this for a while. "All right, I'll let him stay," he said. "For the sake of the ship."
The crew celebrated his decision by taking Old Funny on a trip into town. The next morning he was back in his usual place in the mess, with bloodshot eyes and an even redder complexion than usual. When he spoke, it was with biblical solemnity.
"There shall come a day when all the women in the world will lie in the gutter screaming for cock," he intoned. "But not an inch shall they be given!"
"Am I to understand," Knud Erik asked, "that nobody wanted to screw you?"
It was Knud Erik who invited Sophie to stay.