“Ah, I see. It’s very picturesque.”
“Wait until you see Reine.”
I take in the imposing mountains that dominate all views. There are no trees this close to the shoreline, there is only crystal water rising up to rugged mountains. It’s mythic and surreal. Under any other circumstances I would have been overjoyed to be here, and a part of me is pained that it had to be like this.
We take a main road for fifteen minutes before crossing a large causeway over a vivid blue body of frigid sea. He’s remained quiet since Moskenes and his rich voice startles me. “We’re now on Vestvagoy, the middle island of the Lofoten Island chain.”
***
We walk into a charming pub in the majestic coastal town of Reine, and Alreck is instantly welcomed by several of the patrons. Looking about, I take in the dark wood and nautical themed décor. Historic navigational maps hang on the walls interspersed with a variety of items from wheels to compasses, no doubt authentic.
The large, weathered proprietor reaches up to affectionately clap Alreck on his thick shoulder as they fervently chat away in their native tongue. The salt-haired man leads us to a quiet corner table.
“And who is your friend, Alreck?” he asks curiously, switching to heavily accented English.
“Ahh, she’s just an American I kidnapped on the way up here.”
My mouth opens in shock at his arrogant statement coupled with his smug grin.
The man bellows out a laugh. “Good one, Alreck! You’re such a difficult man that you would be hard pressed to get a woman like her any other way, eh my friend?”
The proprietor turns to me as he asks kindly, “So, you do have a name I assume? I am called Bjorn and I’m happy to have you here in my pub for lunch.”
I answer politely, “Hello, I’m Vail, and what he said is true. He did kidnap me.”
I expect to see anger on Alreck’s face but he surprises me by howling with laughter right along with his buddy Bjorn. Damn! How am I ever going to make it back to Oslo?
“The usual, Alreck?”
“Yeah, make it two today and two Nøgne IPAs as well.”
“Two Bacalao dishes with beer coming right up.”
Once he’s out of sight, I lean across the small round table and hiss, “Are you mad? Stop toying with me, Alreck, it’s beyond cruel. Just tell me what I’m doing here!”
“Relax, American, no harm will come to you. That’s all you need to know for now. Have you ever tried Bacalao?”
“You know that your vagueness is infuriating, right?”
His grins transforms his face into a glow of male beauty.
No answer.
Tall, brimming glasses are set in front of us and I take a sip of the strong beer, enjoying the rich character.
“To answer your question, no, I’ve never tried, what did you call it, Bacalao?”
“Yes, I have never seen this offered in America. Bacalao is actually a Spanish dish but it’s frequently served here in Lofoten. I think you will enjoy it.”
“Why would you think that? You don’t know me in the least.”
He leans back in his chair and stretches his long legs out before him while saying quietly, with annoying confidence, “We will have plenty of time to get to know each other.”
My lips press together. That’s what he thinks!
“Where’s the ladies room?”
He tenses. I see it easily within his shoulders and neck as his guard goes right back up like armor.
“It’s through the doors to the left side of the bar, but try anything here and you’ll more than regret it.”
I glare in disgust before standing and crossing the worn, wide planked floor. I push the door marked ‘Damer’ for women and sigh heavily with relief to be away from his intensity, even if just for a few minutes. Why can’t he be repulsive or even just cruel? Then I could easily run screaming down the street, away from him. Sure, I’ve tried to get away, but I know I could have tried harder. Something about him is like an alluring magnet …
This is so not right! I’ve got to find a way to get back to my life in Oslo and hopefully figure out why Lisetta sold me out to this thug and his badass buddies in the first place. It just doesn’t make any sense. Damn her.
A simple hairbrush really does wonders for a woman who hasn’t had a shower in over twenty-four hours. I touch up the best that I am able and slip back out into the dimly lit pub. Even from across the pub I can feel Alreck’s eyes on me, watching me like a hunter stalking prey as I cross the small space.
He opens his hands, palms up and announces, “Bacalao.”
I sit down across from him and look over the steaming red dish. It looks quite amazing.
“Eat, you won’t find stockfish any fresher than this.”
I take a bite of fish nestled in a thick, tomato-based red sauce. He’s right, it’s fantastic. The fish is meaty and über tender. It’s accompanied by chunks of puréed tomatoes, olives, and baby potatoes. I groan in appreciation and he seems to like that because he’s watching my mouth intently.
Alreck eats methodically and efficiently, almost as if it was a chore. Curious. His face doesn’t often register expressions and I wonder if he has shown more with me than he’s naturally accustomed to, because of the circumstances. It’s quite possible.
After nearly cleaning my place, I wipe my mouth gently with my white napkin and return it to my lap.
“That was really amazing.”
“I’m glad. Come, it’s nearly two and will be fully dark soon.”
This close to the Arctic Circle, the light during the morning and afternoon is at best a dusky, hazy one. Darkness comes by mid-afternoon this time of year. In spring the balance changes and the sun begins to rule. The Norwegians love to party outdoors all summer long, particularly in beer gardens, because the light is prevalent well past midnight.
Taking a final sip of my tasty, strong beer, I stand and watch as he fervently attempts to pay Bjorn, who obviously won’t have any of it. Alreck holds onto the older man’s shoulder and says, “Takk, Bjorn.”
Outside, the snow is falling in white waves. It lands on my cheeks, making me shiver.
“I need to get in touch with my mom. She’s going to be really worried about me soon when she hasn’t heard anything. I usually phone her on the weekends. Does your cell work here? I’d be thankful if you would at least let me put her mind at ease. After what I’ve been through it’s the least you can do.”
Without looking at me, he keeps up his efficient stride toward the truck. “Lisetta has taken care of that.”
“What do you mean?” I slow my pace and he does as well, not letting me get too far from him.
“Everything is under control. She has emailed your mother pretending that she’s you and told her that you are going up north with your class for a few weeks to study Norse culture firsthand. She also wrote that there will be very limited cell service where you’re heading. You need not worry about it.”
“What?” The pissed-off shout escapes from my throat before I can stop it, causing people around us to glance our way.
He goes stock-still before saying in a low, cautionary tone, “Get in the truck.”
“No. Tell me what’s going on.”
“Get in the truck. Now.”
His voice is low rumble, like a deep warning growl.
“And I said no! Not until you tell me why you’ve brought me here.” His fury is no match for mine.
He grabs my arms and pulls me close. I’m on my tip-toes before him as he bends to speak directly against my face. “That was warning number two, American. There won’t be a third.”
Just as the sassy words, “make me” leave my lips, I’m swooped up over his shoulder in one fluid motion.
“Let go of me!” I scream as I beat desperately against his wide back.
I’m dumped unceremoniously into my seat as the steel door slams closed with a loud bang.
I should be scared but I’m pissed off as he gets in besi
de me and shoves the key in the ignition. The big motor roars to life, echoing his harsh breathing. “What the fuck is your problem, woman!” He glares at me as if he’s about to shatter like glass.
“My problem?” I sputter. “My problem is that you’re holding me against my will. Let me go!” I thought that being nice to him earlier might garner me favor and possible lenience, but nothing works with him. Whether or not he’s on some mission, he has to tell me what he has in store for me.
“Whatever it is, Alreck, I don’t care how demented or illegal, I deserve to know what the hell is going on. You have to tell me why I’m here. It’s driving me crazy! Help me understand and I’ll be more compliant, but the not knowing, the wild uncertainty of this chaos is beyond reason. Please …”
He refuses to look at me as we drive out of the historic coastal town. “It’s best you not know.”
An icy chill crawls up my spine as we speed off, racing against the hovering darkness to heaven only knows.
Chapter Six
***
The Rorbu in Lofoten
I finally speak to Alreck after ignoring him for close to an hour. The truck has turned off the two lane main road and onto a far smaller one. It rolls to a slow stop.
“What’s going on?” I ask in a nervous voice as I glance around. The highway is no longer visible; there is only the darkness of early nightfall painted with fresh white snow.
Looking unconcerned, he opens his door to jump down. “Stay here. I’m only putting chains on my tires.”
Chains? Where in the hell is this place?
I wonder how he can see anything at all in the imposing blackness and falling snow. I can barely make out a small trail in front of us that doesn’t look wide enough to fit Alreck’s massive rig.
Turning around, I peer under the rifle and out the window to watch him grab a flashlight and get the chains out of the back. It is too dark to really make out what he is doing, but I hear the rattle and clink as he drags the chains out of the truck bed. I briefly wonder if I should assist him but swiftly nix the thought when I remember that he’s kidnapped me!
He must have done this before because in record time he’s back in the truck and doesn’t even seem the least bit affected by the brutal cold. It has to be in the teens out there. I shudder and huddle closer to the heater.
At a slow crawl, we drive farther into the woods. The only sound in all the eeriness is the constant crunch of his tires on the pristine, glistening snow. The endless forest of tall spruce trees surrounds us.
There is no way I could find my way back on my own. The darkness has made it hard for me to follow our course here, and the cold could easily kill a person if they got trapped in it at night. Panic grips my chest. My fingers twist the fabric in my parka sleeves as I will myself to calm down. There’s nothing I can do at this point. This man is in charge and will take us exactly where he pleases.
Nerves get the best of me and I ask him in a hesitant voice, “So, how long are you planning on keeping me here?”
“Until business is taken care of in Oslo.”
That either sounds dangerous or illegal. Most likely it’s both.
I press him further. “How long will that be? It’s my life on the line here, so the least you can offer me are answers, Alreck.”
“Enough,” he says, his stern voice loud and his expression dark and moody.
I flinch at his hard, unyielding tone and cross my arms in a pissed off manner. Screw him! All he has managed to do is make me more determined to find a way out of here on my own.
“We’re nearly there.”
His expression reflects something I interpret as relief, which is completely understandable considering the fact that we’ve been traveling for just over twenty-four hours.
Fifteen excruciatingly long minutes later I see a dim light ahead. It grows as we drive closer and I begin to make out the shape of an A-frame cabin. Alreck stops the truck and I think that we’ve arrived at his rorbu, but he shuts that thought down with an abrupt, “Wait here.”
His commanding personality is infuriating. I peer out of the window as he exits the truck and knocks on the small cabin door.
I’m surprised when light streams from the doorway and a huge German Shepard bounds out, causing him to take two steps backward to keep from stumbling. The giant dog perches its paws on Alreck’s chest and begins licking his face.
I can’t see his expression but it’s obvious by the way he’s allowing the dog to fawn all over him that he’s pleased as well. He shifts to the side to glance back toward me and I see a tiny old man in the doorway. I can’t hear what they’re saying. Instead, I watch the huge dog leap joyfully in circles around Alreck and realize the Shepard must belong to him. A love that strong from an animal could only be directed toward its master.
He finishes his conversation with the little man and shakes his hand before heading to the truck. I look straight ahead because I don’t want him to see me watching him.
The less interested he thinks I am in him the better.
The back of the truck opens as I hear Alreck call out a command. In a moment he slams it shut and climbs in the cab without a word.
I can’t help but sneak a peek at the furry face studying me through the back window, his nose fogging up the glass. I lean under the hanging gun to smile and wave at him.
“His name’s Titan.”
I grin. “He’s lovely, and huge!”
He nods in agreement but keeps his eyes riveted on the treacherous trail. “He was the largest puppy of his litter. He’s a good dog.”
“You can tell he adores you by the way he gushed all over you back there.” My face grows hot again. I hadn’t meant to say that. It just sort of popped out before I thought to say anything else.
Alreck grunts but gives me a thoughtful glance.
“Isn’t he freezing?”
“Woman, he’s a dog. They’ve survived for thousands of years with just their fur, far longer than we’ve ever had them as pets.”
“Right,” I murmur, embarrassed. Why should I care if my kidnapper’s dog is cold?
“So your closest neighbor is the old man several miles back?”
“Edgard, yeah, and don’t get any ideas. He’s been instructed to ignore you should he see you.”
I gape at him and whisper, “Why are you so mean?”
“Because I have to be.”
He didn’t miss a beat before he landed me with that sweet comment.
What have I gotten myself into? Please let me find a way out of this complete disaster …
Countless miles pass in darkness and silence when he suddenly announces, “We’re here.”
I sit straight up and strain to see where “here” is. I can just make out a shadowed structure that seems to be supported on stilts, high off the ground. It’s an A-frame cabin like the old man’s but far larger. It looks to be the traditional red hue that is favored in this region, but it’s difficult to tell in the darkness with only the headlights of the Ford’s high beams bouncing off it. Once we’re closer I can see why it’s up on stilts. The trees on my right have given way to a vast body of water that the house hovers over within the mysterious shadows.
We pull up in front and Alreck hops down to let Titan out of the back. I wait for him inside, uncertain of what to expect as he opens my door and offers me his hand.
“Come.”
I can’t read his expression. It’s too dark and he’s a master at not giving anything away, regardless. An unexpected nervous shiver creeps down my spine. I should be screaming and terrified but I’m far too exhausted to put up a fight tonight. I need time to rest and recoup so I can come up with a plan to get out of here, even if it means hiking down that desolate, snowy road. Who knows what this guy could have planned for me?
After a moment’s hesitation, I reach across and place my cold hand in his as I allow him to help me down. I’m struck by the silence. The only sound around us is the relentless lapping of water against the s
hore just a few feet away.
I watch as Alreck retrieves my huge bag from under a tarp in the back. He slings it over his shoulder with ease and reaches in to grab another duffle that must belong to him. Titan whines and rubs against his legs, looking for affection from his master.
He trudges the fifteen feet or so toward the front door, not glancing back to see if I’m behind him. My choices are follow or freeze, so I head after him. As we step across the threshold into the large foreign space, I’m struck by how wide open it is. And cold. Impossibly, horridly cold.
In a low, soft tone he says, “I’ll build us a fire.”
He sets my bag down in the entryway and heads back out, Titan at his heels. I move farther into the dark cabin, uncertain where a light switch might be, and what I see locks me in place.
The entire left wall is a pyramid-shaped grid of plate glass that starts at the wooden floor and continues to the ceiling. The window frames the most stunning work of art I’ve ever seen in my life. I gape at the sensual swirl of greens, violets and yellow hues that illuminate the darkness. It must be the Northern Lights.
Transfixed by their beauty, I’m shocked by the delicate juxtaposition of whisper-light, translucent streaks of the most glorious colors one could ever view in nature. Unaware of my chill or how much time has passed, I’m brought back to reality when I hear Alreck behind me.
“Ah, you’ve never seen them before?”
I shake my head while still staring out at the wonder through the glass.
“Here they are called Nordlys. And you certainly won’t see them in Oslo, except on rare occasions because of their distance from the Arctic Circle.”
Turning around, I watch him kneel and put logs of wood into a large stone fireplace. The light in the cabin comes solely from the mesmerizing display over the water.
“I’ve only read about them but nothing prepared me for what’s outside your window. I’m surprised you didn’t create the entire house of glass, just to be able to soak that beauty in.”
“That would make it difficult to heat,” he says, without cracking a smile.
Naughty in Norway Page 6
