Chapter Fifty-Eight
FIFTY-EIGHT
Louisa finds one last way to make Ted really, really nervous before the night is over. She’s pretty creative when it comes to annoying him, you have to give her that.
“This is a really, really bad idea,” he repeats time after time in the car.
Christian’s mother is driving, Louisa is sitting in the front, Ted is sitting in the back hissing “Watch out!” through his teeth every time a medium-sized leaf drifts across the road.
“Ted doesn’t like being in a car much,” Christian’s mother says apologetically.
“Ted doesn’t like anything very much,” Louisa sighs.
“I like lots of things! Just not things that move!” Ted sulks.
Christian’s mother smiles at Louisa.
“He only likes books. When all his friends moved away, Kimkim to art school and Ali abroad and Joar to the other side of town, I told Ted he could come and see me and read books whenever he wanted. From then on I couldn’t get rid of him.”
“You’ve got an awful lot of books,” Ted says in his own defense from the back seat.
Then Christian’s mother explains about the large room in her house that she turned into a library after Christian died. Ted came there every day. There was a comfortable chair, a safe place, and shelves filled with imaginary friends. That was why he became a teacher. Because he wanted to give that security to other children, teach them how to have adventures without moving.
“So you became a history teacher. The most boooring subject possible,” Louisa informs them.
“You’re boring!” Ted retorts.
Then Christian’s mother looks sternly in the rearview mirror.
“Ted! Stop being so immature!”
Ted glares sullenly out the window.
“She started it.”
Then, unfortunately, Christian’s mother sees something else in the mirror and exclaims anxiously:
“Uh-oh. Police.”
Louisa raises her eyebrows.
“Don’t tell me you don’t have a driver’s license either, like Joar’s mom?”
“Of course I’ve got a driver’s license, my dear!” Christian’s mother snorts, before adding: “Just not… at the moment. It’s on hold for a while.”
Then it’s Ted’s turn to sound anxious:
“How can a driver’s license be on hold?”
Christian’s mother groans.
“I was driving a tiny bit too fast. So the court took it away from me. But if you think about it, that’s only because I’m too good at driving. So I know how to drive fast.”
“So you’re saying the court took your license away because they were jealous?” Ted asks.
“Absolutely. That sounds good. We’ll use that excuse,” she nods.
“If the police have dogs, I’ll never forgive you,” Ted gasps, and Louisa sighs:
“For goodness’ sake, Ted, can you just try not to be yourself for a little while?”
He defends himself by saying:
“This was your idea! Even Ali and Joar never had ideas this bad!”
Louisa whispers to Christian’s mother:
“If the police stop us, I’ll say he kidnapped me.”
“Louisa! That isn’t funny!” Ted shouts.
But Christian’s mother thinks it’s so funny that she giggles so hard that she accidentally puts her foot on the brake pedal really hard. Meaning that the police car almost drives into the back of them. One of the police officers gets out and walks over, and asks if everything’s okay.
“Well, apparently I’m either driving too fast or I’m driving too slow, you’re never happy…,” Christian’s mother snaps.
The police officer looks a little hesitant.
“Where are you going?”
“He’s kidnapped us,” Louisa says immediately, nodding toward the back seat.
The police officer looks at Ted, the world’s unhappiest man, with his dirty suit jacket and taped glasses and his whole face covered in bruises. Then the police officer laughs.
“A kidnapper. Sure, sure…”
Then he wishes them a pleasant evening and drives off. Ted has never felt so insulted in his entire life. The women, old and young alike, laugh so hard that the car rocks. It isn’t a bad night, not a bad night at all.
They stop outside the museum. Louisa breaks in through one of the bathroom windows. Ted hits his head when he crawls in, and has to tape his glasses again. Christian’s mother finds a spare place on one of the walls. That’s where they hang Kimkim’s painting. They sit side by side on the floor and look at it.
“Do you still think this is a bad idea?” Louisa asks.
“Yes! You should sell it and take the money and have a fantastic life,” Ted answers.
She shakes her head sadly.
“That won’t work. If I see this painting as money, then I’ll see all paintings as money. Then I’ll never be able to paint anything.”
Christian’s mother is sitting beside her, and there is such a long silence that she feels that perhaps they’re expecting her to say something, so she does what she usually does and quotes a poet: Tomas Transtromer:
“ Don’t be ashamed to be a human being—be proud! Inside you one vault after another opens endlessly. You’ll never be complete, and that’s as it should be. ”
Louisa hugs herself then. Ted carefully cleans his glasses and says:
“Kimkim used to sit in a window looking down at the street and ask how everyone else could bear to be human.”
“What did you tell him?” Louisa asks.
“I said that maybe we could learn how.”
“Have you figured it out yet?”
“Maybe I’m on my way. That’s all anyone can be.”
Then Louisa’s face lights up.
“On your way? So… more traveling?”
“Shut up,” he smiles.
She doesn’t, of course.
“It belongs in a museum,” she says to the painting.
“So do you,” Ted tells her.
He’s said some nice things, but that could be a record.
“What are we going to do now?” she asks.
“You’re asking me? This was your idea!” he snaps.
“So? Am I suddenly supposed to have another plan? You’re the grown-up here!”
“So I’m supposed to have a plan? I can’t even fall asleep on a train without you leaving me!”
“I left you one time. ONE TIME! Can you just stop going on about it?”
“NO!”
Louisa hides her gaze in the painting for a long time before she mumbles:
“Okay. I won’t do it again.”
“Okay,” Ted mutters.
“Okay!” she repeats.
“We’ll figure out a plan,” he mutters, annoyed.
Like a dad would.
Then Christian’s mother clears her throat, puts her hand tenderly on Louisa’s shoulder, and says:
“My dear, I have a suggestion for what you can do next…”
That’s the happy ending.