To the Back of Beyond(4)

With the weather, Astrid’s mood had changed as well. As she walked down the stairs, she thought of the kids who would soon be back from school and that she shouldn’t have let them go without their raincoats. Their unprotectedness felt like an accusation. So many times she felt the need to protect Konrad and Ella from all sorts of things, from mean fellow pupils, unfair teachers, perfectly ordinary things that were part of any child’s growing up, and she hadn’t managed. The telephone rang. It was Thomas’s secretary, saying she had tried a couple of times already. She sounded more upset than Astrid felt. There was a meeting scheduled for two o’clock, she said. I was in the garden, said Astrid. And then, she didn’t know why, He’s sick, I should have called to let you know, I’m sorry. The secretary seemed unsurprised that Astrid this morning had asked her if she’d seen Thomas and was now claiming he was at home. The ease of the explanation seemed to clear all cavils out of the way. To lend credence to her lie, Astrid explained that Thomas had a heavy cold. Perhaps it was the air conditioning in the car or just the exhaustion after the long drive. I had a bad catarrh the other week, said the secretary, and laughed as though she had made a joke. Do you suppose he will be in tomorrow? I don’t think so, said Astrid. Well, I hope he gets over his vacation soon, said the secretary, laughing again, give him my best, won’t you.

Astrid tried to distract herself by thinking about dinner, and what she would cook and how they would sit together in the warm dining room, while the rain fell outside. But suddenly she felt convinced that Thomas wouldn’t be there for dinner either, or tomorrow. The feeling took her breath away, not concern but a crippling fear as though she already knew what would happen.



Thomas must have slept in spite of his uncomfortable bed. His back hurt and he felt cold. It was pitch-dark under the canopy, and even though he held his wrist against his face he couldn’t tell what the time was. For a while he lay there and tried to go back to sleep, but the cold was so piercing that he finally crept out of his ground cloth and got up. It was a little lighter outside. There was a risen moon, almost full, though it seemed to be a long way off. Thomas walked past the hangar on the grassy landing strip, with thin shreds of mist hanging over it. It was easier to see out in the open, and he could make out the first glimmers of light to the east. He did knee bends until he felt warmer, then he went back to the trailer. It got light quickly. From the woods there was a confused concert of birdsong and, from the distance, cowbells and the occasional car on the country road the other side of the river.

He was hungry. He tried the doors of all the trailers once more, but they were all locked. He thought briefly about breaking into one, but he would have needed a tool to do that, and all he had was his little pocketknife, which was good for cleaning his fingernails or opening a letter but not much more. He was on the point of giving up when he noticed that a sash window was open in one of the trailers. With some effort he forced his arm through it and clicked the catch. The window was very small, and it surprised him that he was able to twist himself up through it.

Inside it felt cramped and there was a musty smell. The window Thomas had clambered in through was over a kind of sofa bed. After feeling around for a while, he managed to find the switch. A weak economy bulb shed gray light over the inside of the trailer. The walls and units were cladded with fake walnut paneling, the cushion material was purple-and-beige in an old-fashioned looking plaid pattern, crocheted curtains hung in the windows. Thomas threw open all the cupboards. One contained sticky bottles of oil and vinegar, an almost empty tube of mustard, various spices and flavorings, tea bags and instant coffee; in others there were pasta and rice, cans of tomatoes, packets of instant soup. Finally he found two packs of cookies and half a bar of chocolate. He ate the cookies and felt a bit sick, but at least he was no longer hungry. He turned out the light and opened the door. He was startled to find that it was completely light outside.

In the middle of the trailer park was a small fenced-in pool and next to it an open building, little more than a shelter, really. Inside, Thomas found showers, toilet stalls, and sinks. There was no warm water, but he took a quick shower anyway. The cold water was refreshing, and even though he had hardly slept that night, he felt very alert. He dried off perfunctorily on a stained towel that was hanging beside one of the sinks. Then he went back into the mobile home, pocketed the chocolate, took the empty cookie packages and threw them in the trash. He decided against the palaver of bolting the mobile home and scrambling out through the window. The next time the owners came by, they might be puzzled to find the door unlocked and the cookies gone, but they surely wouldn’t suppose anyone had broken in.

Thomas walked on along the narrow road he had come down the day before. As far as the airfield, he had known every path, every meadow and patch of woods. But once outside the perimeter of his village, his mental map of the area grew vaguer and consisted of railway lines, principal roads and towns, and the number of blank spaces in between kept growing.

At the end of the airfield the strip of grass narrowed between the river and the woods. A few dozen yards away, three deer were grazing in the high grass. Thomas stopped. The deer lifted their heads and looked at him. Even though they were some way off, he could feel that they had spotted him. For a heartbeat they stood still, then with their strangely slow movements they ran off in the direction of the woods and disappeared among the trees. I’ll be safer in the woods, thought Thomas, I need to get off this road. He still wasn’t being sought, presumably Astrid wouldn’t have remarked his disappearance yet, but he didn’t want to run into anyone who would remember him later.