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Authors: Tove Jansson

BOOK: Travelling Light
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“Do I remember! Great speeches, we were so profound! It was June, I think, with the sun coming up at two in the morning. And I stood on the table and shouted, ‘Skoal to the sun!’ And there was a Russian sitting under the table singing. Where did he come from?”

“The Russian? I think he was one of those people we always included because we felt sorry for them. And there were a lot of those, way too many! But I always let them come. ‘Bring them along,’ I’d say. ‘The more the merrier.’ That’s my principle. If you’re having a party, then do it in style! We got twenty-two people in here, twenty-two. I counted. One of the best parties I’ve ever given for my friends.”

“What do you mean?” Stella said. “It was my party!”

“Yes, yes, of course, if you like. I gave a farewell party for you, so of course, in a sense, it was your party. Then off you went on the morning train.”

Yes, the morning train, Stella thought. Sebastian came with me to the train. A lovely summer morning… He promised he’d follow as soon as he’d sorted out his travel grant, as soon as I’d found us a studio, or a room, or a cheap hotel, anywhere we could work… He hardly ever had a fixed address, so I was to send the address to Wanda… Bye-bye, darling, take care of yourself! And the train whistled and rushed out into the world.

“Now, don’t go upsetting yourself about my party, Stella. Though surely you haven’t forgotten that I was the one who lived here. This was my home. Be honest, it was my place, wasn’t it? Of course it was.” Wanda laid her hand over Stella’s and went on in a friendly voice. “Memory plays funny tricks. But don’t worry about it; it’s totally natural. You’re every bit as welcome now as you were then. You were such a great help; you helped in so many ways, peeling onions and carrying out the garbage… And we included you in everything, our poor little Starry-Eyes… Wait a second, there’s the lift…”

The sound of the lift was very loud.

“Third floor,” said Wanda. “Funny how often it goes to the third floor. Yes, all the things we did back then, and now here you sit in your old spot, between Ingegerd and Tommi and me on the sofa, with Bennu opposite. Sebastian used to sit in the window. You all talked and talked about art – all you cared about was your work. And how many of you became famous, can you tell me that?”

“It’s so easy to lose track of how your friends got on,” Stella said.

“You don’t know? Did none of them ever write to you? But Stella, sweetheart!”

Stella lit a cigarette. “I sent you my address and asked you to pass it on to my friends.”

“Did you? Hang on, your cigarette’s not lit. Here, this is a good lighter. You should start using a lighter; your hands have started to shake, just a little, just a tiny bit, nothing to worry about. Whatever. Well, Sebastian became quite famous, in a way. But you know how it is with great men; they forget the people who believed in them when they were a bit less great. Aren’t you going to finish your wine?”

Stella said, “Do you know how he is? Do you know where he is?”

They heard the lift again and sat quietly.

“Fourth floor,” remarked Wanda. “Time to put on the spaghetti, I think.
Al burro
. With Parmesan these days! You like Parmesan?”

“Yes, thanks. Are you still at the council offices?”

“Certainly am, and looking forward to my pension like everyone else. I’m departmental manager now.”

“Really? What do you do with the rest of your time? Same hobby? Still doing your gymnastics in the evenings?”

“In the evenings? You’re mad. One doesn’t dare go out on the streets after six o’clock in this city!” Wanda went to the little kitchen in the corner to put the water on to boil. She set the table.

“Would you like to see Jaska’s photographs?”

It was a beautiful album full of bad photographs of a tight crowd of laughing young people – at a
fancy-dress
party, at the beach in a strong wind, on their way somewhere carrying easels – charming snapshots of no interest whatsoever except to those who were there at the time.

Stella said, “This was at Hanaholmen. I was standing beside Sebastian in my white dress. You can still see a bit of that dress.”

Wanda looked and said, “That wasn’t you, that was someone else. Light got in, so I had to cut off one corner. Do you use ketchup?”

“No, I don’t. Do you know where Sebastian is now?”

“I might. But the thing is, dear, it’s a secret. I promised not to give the address to anyone. Say what you like about me, I’m loyal to my friends. And anyway, it wasn’t Hanaholmen, it was Äggskär. And you weren’t even there that time. Memory’s funny, isn’t it? Some things just disappear and others you never forget. Are memories important to you? Be frank, think about it. Those days when everything was so easy for you. This room. You’d like to go back, wouldn’t you?”

“Not any more,” said Stella. “I think the water’s boiling.”

But the water wasn’t boiling; the gas tokens had run out.

“I’m so sorry,” said Wanda. “Forgive me. I could go down and borrow some from Mrs Lundblad, but she’s so unpleasant…”

“Never mind. She’s probably busy with the stairs.”

“You saw her? What did she say?”

“Well, we talked a bit about this and that.”

“But what did she say about me?”

“Nothing.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely. She didn’t say a thing. It’s really hot in here, Wanda. Do you think we could open the window for a bit?”

The spring evening came into the room, cool and liberating.

“This window,” said Wanda. “I remember you standing here laughing, you and Sebastian. You were laughing at the rest of us, weren’t you? What was so funny? Who were you laughing at?”

Wanda’s voice, flat, insistent and inescapable, was suddenly too much for Stella, and she lost her temper. “We weren’t laughing at anyone! Or we were laughing at all of you, at everything! Because we were happy! We looked at each other and laughed; it was fun. Is that so hard to understand?”

“But why are you so angry?” said Wanda, distressed.

“I’m tired. You talk too much.”

“Do I? Silly me, so thoughtless. And I can see you’re not feeling well. You’ve changed so much. Is something wrong? You can tell me. Stella. Come and sit here on the sofa. Did those photos upset you? They’re just innocent old memories for safekeeping.”

“You’re right – they’re innocent. This studio was innocent in those days too. It was a place where everything was friendly and straightforward. We worked and we trusted each other, because
everything
was open and above board. I think about this place when I’m having trouble getting to sleep.”

“Trouble sleeping? That’s not good. Not good at all. Listen, Stella, you’re not yourself. Have you seen a doctor? I mean, this business of forgetting things… But that’s probably not so serious, nothing to worry about.”

“The lift!” Stella yelled. “There it goes again. Wait till it stops!”

“That was the fourth floor.”

Wanda closed the window and filled their glasses. She was still talking. “He bought me a record even though they cost a fortune. And the other artists would also bring me a record now and then. Little me… We used to dance. Till dawn. And you know what I’d do then? I’d get up on the table and drink a toast with all of you and shout, ‘Skoal to the sun!’ And when the party was over and everyone had gone home and there was only the two of us, Sebastian and me… Stella? How about a bit of music? An old 78 he gave me. ‘Evening Blues’.”

“No, not right now.” Stella had a headache, a nasty pain behind her eyes. The lift started up again, almost right to the top. In this altered room she recognised only one thing: the bookcase. She reached out and touched it.

“I knocked that up in a single evening,” Wanda said. “Pretty good, don’t you think?”

Stella burst out, “That’s not true! That’s my old bookcase that I made with my own two hands!”

Wanda leaned back in her chair and smiled. “What a fuss about nothing! That old bookcase? Take it, it’s yours, a present. But Stella, dear, I’m worried about you. Where did you lose your starry eyes? What’s wrong, dear? Can’t you tell me about it? And now another cigarette. You smoke too much. You don’t look at all well. Take it easy, I beg you. Stop trying to remember the way things used to be; you just get sad and confused. That’s it, isn’t it? Tell me the truth. It makes you unhappy and confused. It was all so long ago now and, you know, the years haven’t been kind to you. Anyway, what’s so special about this old bookcase? Nothing. Think about something pleasant. Remember Tommi? He was nice, and he fancied you. He’d say, ‘We have to look after our little Starry-Eyes. She’s so docile, she swallows everything. She’s our little rubbish bin: we fill her up and there’s always room for more…’”

Stella broke in. “I don’t think we should talk any more about those days. We could talk about what’s happening now. Out there.”

“What do you mean – out there?”

“Out in the world. The great upheavals, all the violent and important things going on everywhere all the time. We could talk about that.” She could see that Wanda didn’t understand, so she added, “The stuff we read about in the papers.”

“I don’t get a paper,” said Wanda. “Anyway, Tommi liked you. All my friends liked you. Believe me, it’s true. And it absolutely wasn’t pity…”

“That lift!” Stella burst out. “There it goes again!”

“So?”

“Are you expecting someone, or are you afraid?”

“Of what?”

“Burglars, Wanda, all the burglars who are going to come in and take your things!”

Wanda looked straight at her guest. “Don’t be childish. No one can get in here.” There was a moment’s silence, then Wanda went on. “You remind me of someone, one of the ones we felt sorry for, who only came here to eat. She used to eat and eat and never say a word. Funny – she was like you. Poor thing. She used to follow me about everywhere. And you know what she said to me once: ‘You’re so strong,’ she said. ‘You’re like a strong electric current. You make me move faster, you make me feel alive!’ Then she disappeared. No one knew what happened to her and no one cared… Stella? What’s the matter – don’t you feel well?”

“No,’ said Stella, “I don’t feel well. Do you have an aspirin?”

“Of course, right away… But darling, lie down on the sofa for a bit. No, I insist. You look terrible, you need to lie down. Don’t talk. Just promise me you’ll go for a proper check-up soon; it’s so easy to do.”

Stella felt a great urge to sleep; the room
disappeared
. The inescapable voice whispered on, “Are you comfortable? Here in this room you’re with me and you can forget and let go… All of them, they all come to my room, they stand waiting at the door and I hear them and let them in and they talk and talk… Worries, worries, worries… Then I talk, frankly and honestly. One has to be completely honest, doesn’t one? Don’t you agree? One needn’t say so very much, but one has to weigh one’s words, one must find just the right words; it’s so important. But you’re freezing! Hang on, let me tuck you up nice and cosy… No, no, let me look after you – I’m right, aren’t I, about daring to be honest?”

Stella screamed, “Let me go!” But the blanket crept up over her face and the voice droned on: “I told him what I thought, what I honestly thought. I said, ‘She’s suffocating you, you have to get rid of her…’”

“The lift!” Stella screamed, and for a moment the grip loosened. She jumped to her feet and ran to the middle of the room. Wanda was left sitting on the sofa. “Stella? What are you looking for?”

“My bag, my bag!”

Wanda laughed. “Well, I didn’t steal it! It has to be here somewhere. I locked the door from the inside. Sit down and relax. I’ll tell you how things are. Have a little more wine. No? Listen, being at home in your own room, where everything belongs to you and it’s all there,
everything
that’s happened and everything that’s been said, it’s all there, the walls are steeped in it, it’s all around you like a warm cloak and it holds you tighter and tighter… Don’t you believe me? I can prove it! I’ve got a recording. Please just listen and you’ll understand.”

There came an incomprehensible chaos of voices and shrill music. Wanda cried out, “You hear that? That proves it, doesn’t it? There’s a glass breaking – you hear that?”

Stella stood at the locked door holding her bag and coat. “Wanda, let me out! Let me go.”

“No, don’t go, please, don’t go yet, stay a little longer, just a little while, it was all so long ago and there’s still so much to talk about… What are you afraid of? It’s not late, not at all, the streets aren’t dangerous yet, not till later, but then you can take a taxi and I’ll come down and make sure you get away all right… Stella? There’s no need to worry, I mean if you’ve got a lot of money in your bag and you’re scared of being robbed…”

“I’ve already been robbed,” said Stella. “Just let me out.”

Wanda came to the door and took her by the arm. “Stella? Is it the bookcase? Take it, please. I’d like you to have it! It’s so small, you can take it in a taxi. Don’t look at me like that, don’t be mean to me…” Her hand was still on Stella’s arm. Stella took it in her own and held it silently it until it was calm. Then Wanda unlocked the door and stood aside. Stella went down the stairs feeling wildly and inconsolably relieved. At the corner she turned to say goodbye but the door was already closed. “Evening Blues” began to play and then stopped again almost immediately.

A thick fog had descended over the city, the first spring fog. A good sign. It meant that soon, little by little, the ice would go.

Travelling Light
 
 

I
WISH I COULD DESCRIBE
the enormous relief I felt when they finally pulled up the gangway! Only then did I feel safe. Or, more exactly, when the ship had moved far enough from the quay for it to be impossible for anyone to call out… ask for my address, scream that something awful had happened… Believe me, you can’t imagine my giddy sense of freedom. I unbuttoned my overcoat and took out my pipe but my hands were shaking and I couldn’t light it; but I stuck it between my teeth anyway, because that somehow establishes a certain detachment from one’s surroundings. I went as far forward as possible in the bows, from where it was impossible to see the city, and hung over the railing like the most carefree traveller you can imagine. The sky was light blue, the little clouds seemed whimsical, pleasantly capricious…

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