Chapter 104
Blue lights flashed through the darkness and made time contract.
Isidor Enoksson sat at his kitchen table, watching them go by in the rain. A frightful mare, bringer of bad dreams, wrapped her wings around him.
He stared at his beer bottle. One sip left.
He drank it and eyed the label with disappointment, as though it had not delivered what it had promised.
Isidor suspected the worst.
Had to get over there, even though he’d been drinking.
He staggered to the garage, past his car to his bicycle.
He walked it out to the driveway in the rain; it creaked loudly as he got on.
Wobbly. Very wobbly, but it should work.
Once, as legend had it, Isidor’s predecessor, Hugo Edman, had made it all the way to Harplinge with the help of only a bicycle and two bottles of liquor.
Isidor placed his left shoe on the pedal and pushed. His foot slipped, and he nearly fell off but managed to catch himself in the nick of time. Would’ve been just fine to die there and then, he thought. But God hadn’t sent him that sort of trial, not today.
Isidor climbed off the bicycle and tried to figure out what was wrong.
At last he realized the back tire was flat.
God da—
Isidor threw the bicycle down as though it had wronged him.
For I have sinned, the priest thought, gazing at the dark woods in the distance.
And then he began the walk to Skavboke.