Samurai Summer

by Edwardson, Åke

  The jetties extended far out into the water. I could see the ends of them sticking out beyond the rocks that we were going to round in a minute. It might have been a nice place to swim, but I had never been able look at it like a real beach where you went to have fun. I was never going to come here once I could decide for myself. There were many places I had no intention of ever going back to.

  “Weren’t you scared?” asked Kerstin again.

  “Of course I was scared.”

  “She didn’t try to hit you?”

  “No. Lucky for her.”

  I didn’t want to saying anything about how Matron had tried to twist my ear off. I was ashamed of it. I thought about how I had to make sure I didn’t touch my ear. Then Kerstin might notice that it was still swollen.

  I looked at her but she wasn’t looking at my ear. She seemed to be gazing out across the lake toward the camp, as though she could see Matron standing on the steps.

  “She’s creepy.”

  “Worse than that,” I said.

  “Next time you do something, maybe you’ll get sent home.”

  “There’s nobody at home,” I said.

  “Why not?”

  “My mom’s away.”

  “To some other camp then?”

  “I don’t think there’s anyone who wants me,” I said.

  “LISTEN UP!” shouted one of the counselors.

  There was a light breeze blowing at the end of the dock. I could see that there was a little wind in the sail of the boat that was still drifting around aimlessly in the middle of the lake. It seemed that it was looking for a way out but couldn’t find one because the lake was too big. The boat was stuck there for good.

  “What were you talking to her about?” asked Sausage.

  He was sitting next to me. When he was only wearing swimming trunks he really looked like a sausage. A breakfast sausage, thicker than a hot dog.

  “What did she want?”

  “Nothing.”

  “I saw you talking to her. You sure talked a long time for it to be nothing.”

  “She just happened to be walking next to me.”

  “We said no girls.”

  “We did?”

  “You’re the one who said it, Kenny.”

  “That all depends on what you mean.”

  “Well, what do you mean then?”

  “Nothing,” I said because I didn’t want to talk about it. “Wanna dive in?”

  We dove in. The water was clearer here than over by the camp. I could see my fingers in front of me. They were green. Green like Kerstin’s eyes. I thought of her again. It was Sausage’s fault. I could see his legs wiggling in front of me like two small, stubby cocktail sausages. I stayed below the surface until it felt like my head was going to explode. And yet, it wasn’t that I thought I couldn’t breathe. It was that, for a moment, I felt I wanted to stay down there.

  I gasped for air when I came up.

  “I thought you’d drowned,” said Sausage.

  “A new record.”

  Sausage climbed up the ladder.

  “I think it’s snack time,” he said.

  The snack consisted of cinnamon buns and diluted fruit concentrate. Everybody got some except me.

  “You didn’t finish your oatmeal, Tommy,” said the counselor.

  “Where is it?” I asked.

  They hadn’t brought it along. If they had, I would have eaten it up just to show them.

  I went and sat behind the big rock.

  The sailboat was still out there, but the wind had died down. The sail hung limply like a bed sheet.

  “Here.”

  I looked up. Kerstin held out a paper cup.

  “Then there won’t be any for you,” I said.

  “I took a second cup,” she said.

  “So drink it then.”

  “You don’t have to play tough. Not in front of me.”

  “I’m not thirsty,” I said.

  “You will be. We’ve got to walk back too.”

  She held the cup even closer to me. I took it and drank. The fruit concentrate was weak, but it didn’t matter.

  “You can have half of my bun if you want,” she said.

  “I’m not hungry.”

  “You didn’t eat any breakfast.”

  “You call that breakfast?” I asked.

  She sat down. I moved over slightly. She held her hand over her eyes and gazed out at the lake.

  “That boat’s not moving,” she said.

  “There’s no wind.”

  “What’s your favorite breakfast?” she asked.

  “Rice.”

  “Rice? You mean boiled rice?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Is that what you usually have for breakfast?”

  “No. Not here.”

  “At home then? Do you usually eat boiled rice at home?”

  “Uh… no.”

  “But it’s still your favorite breakfast?”

  “It’s a samurai breakfast,” I said.

  “Doesn’t sound very good.”

  “That’s not the point.”

  She didn’t answer. She seemed to be thinking about what I had said, but I wasn’t sure because I couldn’t see her eyes. You have to see someone’s eyes to know what they’re thinking.

  “My favorite is ham and eggs,” she said without lowering her hand from her eyes. She was still gazing out at the sailboat. “And jam on toast.”

  “Yeah, I’ve heard about that,” I said. “Do you get that when you’re home?”

  “On Sundays.” She lowered her hand and looked at me. “Sometimes.”

  “Maybe you can put in an order with the cook for Sunday,” I said and got up and walked back to the others.

  My head felt strange. I turned around. Kerstin was still sitting by the rock. Maybe she was keeping an eye on the sailboat. While I had been sitting there, I’d thought about how you can go just as far in a sailboat as you can in an airplane—even with that boat, if you could get it out of the lake. Anywhere in the world. That boat might be able to sail from this puny little puddle all the way to Japan. The sail had caught some wind now—wind that might have blown in all the way from the sea. The boat looked like it was about to take to the air.

  “Hi there, Romeo!”

  I turned around again.

  “Aren’t you going to take your girl back with you, Romeo? Are you just going to leave her all alone by the rock?”

  It was Weine.

  “What’s her name?”

  “None of your business.”

  “Maybe I should go ask her myself.”

  Weine had two other guys with him. They stood behind him and snickered whenever he said anything. I didn’t understand why.

  “Go ahead,” I heard from behind me. Seemed like everyone was talking behind me today. I turned around. It was Kerstin.

  “Go ahead and ask me then,” she said and looked straight at Weine.

  Weine’s face looked dumber than usual.

  “Forgotten how to speak?” asked Kerstin.

  You could see the wheels turning inside Weine’s skull. I was a spectator watching from the sidelines, even though I was standing right between them.

  “Aw, what the hell,” said Weine, and he started walking back toward the beach.

  His gang looked at him for a moment before following him.

  Kerstin stood next to me.

  “Guess he didn’t want to know my name after all.”

  “He’s an idiot.”

  “You shouldn’t say that about people.” She looked at me. “There are real idiots you know. People who can’t help it.”

  “Sure, there’s one right over there,” I said, and I nodded toward Weine who was walking quickly across the narrow strip of sand. The other two stumbled after him.

  “No,” Kerstin smiled, “he’s just stupid.”

  I laughed. It felt good. She was sharp. You had to be on your toes with her. Weine didn’t stand a chance. And yet it was only words.


  I couldn’t see Sausage anywhere and no one else had seen him either. I asked but nobody knew.

  “I think he was going to do some diving over on the other side,” said Micke. “But that was a while ago.”

  There was a jetty on the opposite side of the headland where the water was deeper. Anyone who wanted to do real diving had to go over there. Once Sausage had learned to dive, that was all he ever wanted to do. He had become more daring. He’d throw himself way out.

  The counselors had just said that it was time to get our things together and march back to the penitentiary. The sun had begun to go down.

  I started to walk toward the other side of the headland.

  “Where are you going, Tommy?”

  Normally I wouldn’t have answered, but this time I turned around.

  “Sausage isn’t here. I’m going to get him.”

  “His name isn’t Sausage.” The counselor had put her hands on her hips. “He’s hardly a sausage is he?”

  I had a bad feeling that something had happened to him.

  “Run and fetch him then,” said the counselor.

  I continued toward the jetty behind the headland. Then I started to run between the pine trees as I heard cries. Sausage cries. I rounded the headland and saw the jetty and the beach.

  Weine and one of his idiots were standing there knee-deep in the water, and between them Sausage was trying to kick himself free. His cries were abruptly cut off when his head was plunged beneath the water.

  Weine hadn’t seen me. He was too busy trying to drown Sausage. I ran past the last pine tree. This time just words wouldn’t be enough against Weine, but I didn’t have a sword. It was lying wrapped in my towel. I hadn’t been able to smuggle it with me when the counselor was looking at me.

  Weine glanced up when I started wading through the water.

  “Let go of him!”

  He let go of Sausage. The other idiot had already let go.

  Sausage sounded like he was about to throw up. He tried to get up but fell back into the water.

  I raised my fists.

  “Don’t you have the guts to pick on someone your own size?”

  “Stay out of this, Tommy.”

  “Kenny,” I said.

  Weine looked like he couldn’t make up his mind whether to go for me or Sausage. But Sausage had already started to crawl up toward the shore. The other idiot didn’t move.

  “And you’re two against one,” I said, “and you’re each bigger than he is.”

  Weine still didn’t move.

  “You were really after me, weren’t you?” I took a few steps closer. “This is about me, isn’t it?”

  “He was acting cocky,” said Weine. “That’s all. He was cocky and he needed to be taught a lesson.”

  “I’ll teach you a lesson,” I said and took another step.

  Weine’s flunky looked like he didn’t want to be there anymore.

  “Tommy! Weine!”

  The counselors’ shouts echoed high above the lake. You’d have thought Weine and I were on the other side. I caught sight of the sailboat. It must have rounded the headland just as I’d crossed over it. Maybe there was someone on the deck right now watching me through a set of binoculars.

  “You get up here this minute!”

  “I don’t know what we’re going to do with you, Tommy.”

  Matron was sitting behind her writing desk. I had no idea why she even had one. Nobody had ever seen her write anything.

  “You pick fights,” she continued, “and you won’t eat your food.”

  At supper the oatmeal would be brought out again. It would be colder and the milk bluer or maybe even greener by now, like the bottom of the lake.

  “Why aren’t you eating?”

  Matron got up and from where I was sitting she loomed like a tower. She blocked the sun that had nearly sunk behind the lake by now.

  “You can’t keep behaving like this.”

  You can’t keep behaving like this, I thought. We’ll just have to wait and see who can keep this up the longest.

  “We’re not going to give up,” said Matron, seeming to read my thoughts. Though come to think of it, that might not have been all that hard just then. “Don’t you go thinking that, Tommy.”

  “Kenny,” I said.

  “Right, and then there’s all that silly childishness.”

  She sat down again and the rays of sunlight hit me right in the eyes. Matron was like a shadow.

  “You’re sowing disorder among the others, Tom-m-y.”

  She drew out the name. Tom-m-y. That was what she was like. She wanted to show that she had all the power. Grown-up power.

  That was the worst kind.

  “Like on the swimming trip. You started fighting.”

  “I wasn’t fighting,” I answered, “and I didn’t start it.”

  “The other boy said you did.”

  “It’s a lie.”

  “You’re sitting there trying to tell me that other people are lying?”

  “I wasn’t fighting,” I repeated.

  “You went after that boy. Weine.”

  I didn’t answer. It was pointless. It didn’t matter what I said. I looked at Matron’s thick arms. I didn’t want her to grab me again and twist my ear. Or do something worse.

  “If this continues we’ll have to send you home, Tommy.”

  She said my name normally now. Only it wasn’t my name.

  “If this continues, then you’ll be sent away.”

  “What? What do you mean?” I asked because I felt I had to. “If what continues?”

  “What I’ve just been talking about! Your refusal to eat. And the fighting. And all this about accusing us of having stolen a bag of Twist!”

  She looked out toward the lake. It seemed she didn’t want to look me in the eye. “I’ll have you know there are hundreds of children who would love to come out here for the summer.”

  She looked like she was considering the simplest way to drown hundreds of kids.

  ”Hundreds,” she repeated.

  She looked at me again.

  “Do you hear me, Tommy?”

  I nodded.

  “If you don’t eat up the good food we give you tonight, we’ll have to send you home tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow?”

  “Tomorrow, right after breakfast,” said Matron. Then she smiled. “After the breakfast you don’t eat.”

  Matron looked like she meant it. I didn’t know if she could really do that. If there were laws or rules that gave them the right to do that. But I suspected that Matron and the counselors did as they pleased.

  “But… my mother isn’t home,” I said.

  “There are other camps,” said Matron. “If they’ll take you, that is.”

  She stood up.

  “So now you know.”

  “What?” I asked.

  “What happens if you don’t eat your breakfast tonight, of course.”

  She smiled a smile that made no one happy. She didn’t even look happy herself. I thought about the day-old oatmeal. Matron’s head looked like a moon, a black moon, as she looked down at me. Her teeth glinted. She moved her head back and forth as though she wanted to make sure it was firmly attached at the neck.

  7

  The troop was waiting for me outside the building. Everyone else out front was waiting for supper. I was hungry myself, but I didn’t want to think about it. A samurai had to be prepared to endure anything. I needed to have total self-control. I couldn’t show any feelings, especially where my stomach was concerned. Everything came from the stomach. A samurai’s life force was in his stomach. No one was going to come and tell me what to swallow. It was a question of honor. I could choose to leave all this with the help of the little sword and a single cut to the stomach.

  Hundreds of samurai had chosen to leave everything that way. But I wasn’t ready to do that. Things hadn’t gone that far. Not yet.

  “What did Matron say?”

  Sau
sage still looked like a drowned cat. His eyes were red, his face was blue, and his hair looked like it might never dry. On the march back his teeth had chattered like a rattlesnake.

  “Weine and his gang are keeping their distance,” said Janne. “They’re proving what cowards they are.”

  “We’ll deal with them later,” said Lennart and patted his sword.

  “Tell us what she said,” Sausage repeated.

  “They want to send me home,” I said.

  “They can’t do that, can they?”

  “They can do anything.”

  “Then they’ll have to send us all home,” said Janne.

  I looked at Janne. He was in no hurry to be sent off to that farm. He said “home” because he didn’t know what else to call it. There wasn’t any word that I knew of for a place that was home and yet wasn’t.

  “I’m not gonna go,” I said.

  “Hurray!” said Sausage.

  “What, so it’s been decided?” asked Micke. “They want to send you away?”

  “I’ve been given one last chance.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The oatmeal.”

  “Oh shit,” said Lennart.

  “We can pull the same trick as last time,” said Sausage, “and send the dish down to the girls.”

  “It won’t work a second time,” I said. “They’ll be watching now. And I wouldn’t want to do it anyway.”

  “What did she say—that girl—when she didn’t have to eat the liver the last time we passed it down?” asked Sausage.

  “Ann. Her name is Ann.”

  “So what did she say? To the counselor? They didn’t make her eat it.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Can’t you ask her? Maybe she’s got a secret. Maybe you could do the same thing.”

  Sausage didn’t know. None of the others in the troop knew. The price for that secret was that there would be girls in the castle. I would have to explain. I didn’t want to have to do that right now. I had other things to think about.

  “It wouldn’t hurt to ask her,” said Janne.

  “So, can we see the castle?” asked Ann. “You promised that we could see it.”

  I found her on the branch that reached out over the water. It was the first place I looked. Kerstin was sitting next to her. That was no surprise either.

  “There’s not much to see,” I answered. “It’s still only a hut right now.”