Christer Tholin [Tholin - Vanished?

Now it would soon be over. Maybe another half hours drive. Somehow the trip had lasted longer than he had imagined. He had left Berlin in the evening and taken the night ferry from Rostock to Trelleborg. His single-bunk cabin had been basic; the night, short. The ferry had arrived in Sweden at exactly six in the morning, but the route from Trelleborg to the vacation house had proved laborious. First, there was the 110-kilometer-per-hour speed limit on the freeway. Not all of it was freeway, either, and he rarely even reached the 70-kph speed limit on the county roads. Somehow, he always wound up behind some large freight truck. Oh well, it was almost over. At least, his Audi was purringthe route seemed to suit it just fine.

Martin had placed the driving directions from the owner of the house on the passenger seat beside him. Its extremely easy to find. Just follow the directions carefully, and be sure to drive very slowly toward the end so that you dont miss the turnoffs, the owner had told Martin when he picked up the key in Berlin. All he could do now was to hope the directions were good and would still be easy to follow once he left the main road. At first, his GPS couldnt even find the address.

At least, the scenery was gorgeous, with lots of forest, lots of lush green meadows, and the occasional lake. There were hardly any towns, and houses appeared only now and then amidst all the nature, and then they were usually painted the typical rust-red and also yellow and light blue. This was Martins first trip to Sweden, and his initial impressions confirmed the image he had had: pristine nature with lots of quiet. He needed thatto think, above all. And that meant getting clear on how to proceed from here.

It was already over a year since Martins separation from his wife and his little girl Lara. But the divorce hearing took place just three weeks ago, and that formality had affected him more than he expected. Now it would be signed and sealed, complete with visitation rights. On top of that, his wifeno, his ex-wifewas marrying again, which wouldnt make his relationship with his daughter any easier.

After the meeting with the judge, it became obvious to Martin that he simply could not go on like this. He needed to take a break, to reorient himself. It was then that he happened to notice the following ad: Vacation home in Southern Sweden: holiday in harmony with nature. He thought it over for another two days, and then he called and booked, which was never a problem during the off-peak season. Yes, and now he was almost there.

Start by heading toward Gulsten. Fine, he did that. The road grew narrower as it wound its way through the woods. Then the landscape opened up again, and a small town came into view. That had to be Tensta, the nearest shopping locale.

Shortly before entering the town, Martin noticed a sign that read Koloniomrde st-Tensta. He turned onto the road, which was narrow but still paved with asphalt. After a few kilometers, the landscape changed. Now it was no longer flat but gradually went uphill. Once again, he entered the woods, just as the landlord had described. At that point, he was supposed to take the third turnoff to the left. But what exactly did turnoff mean here? Surely not this tiny road that could barely accommodate a car ... or was that it? All right, he had already passed one. That much was clear. The second was debatable. And so it continued, which unfortunately meant that it was not so obvious where he should turn off and not at all as simple as the landlord had claimedand that, in spite of the fact that Martin was driving very slowly and carefully checking every junction.

For a long time, the road went on through the woods, continuing gently uphill. Finally, another junction appeared. A right turn would lead to stergrd, but there was no sign for the left turn, only half a dozen mailboxes. What choice did he have? He turned left. In about 100 meters, the asphalt stopped, although the dirt road was entirely passable, and the terrain had leveled off as well. According to the directions, he was supposed to take the second option to the right. Hopefully, somethinganythingwould appear.

Martin had driven maybe two kilometers when he came to a clearing. Here the road forked, with the right turnoff leading to one end of the clearing. There stood a house, yellow in color. He drove up to it. There was a Jeep sitting in the driveway, and on the garden gate, a large sign boasted Hjrtats plats. Martin stopped the car. Should he ring the doorbell and ask?

As he got out of the car, Martin realized that he had no need to ring the bell: there was a woman working in the garden to the right of the house. She had looked up and was leaning on her spade. About his age, she was wearing work clothes and had woven her blond hair into a braid.

Excuse me, madam, could you please help me? Martin asked in English. The woman came over to the fence and looked at him inquiringly. She had beautiful blue eyes, and her skin was covered with freckles. Tiny beads of sweat stood out on her forehead.

You can speak German with me as well, came the answer in fluent German.

Oh, I didnt realize I had such a pronounced accent.

Its not that. I happened to notice your license plate.

Ah, right. Im sorry to bother you, but Im not sure Ive gone the right way.

Where are you headed?

Ive rented a vacation house. Its called, uh ... He looked at the piece of paper.... Solplats. Is that anywhere near here?

Solplats. She pronounced it Soolpluts. Yes, youre not too far off. All you need to do is to drive back a little way to the last junction, take the other road, and then veer right after about three kilometers. Its the third or fourth house on the right, I think. You cant miss it. The name is on it in big letters.