Stefán Máni - The Ship

The rusty brown hull rests on underwater crags, sloping five degrees to port and thirty astern. Its prow pierces the ice at a sharp angle and the stern juts out over a murky fissure, causing the six-storey wheelhouse to lean over the abyss like a haunted house, the empty windows of the bridge staring at nothing. During the day, bluish light filters through the ice into the depths, where curious seals swim around the wreck, which quickens occasionally in the ocean currents, producing a long, drawn-out screech, heavy thumps and a thick oil slick, green, pink and purple in the weak light that floats up under the ice like liquid aurora borealis.

That which sleeps forever is not dead.

Monday, 10 September 2001

Its four minutes to eight in the narrow kitchen of the Old Town house where a young family of three is eating cabbage and meatballs with melted butter and new potatoes.

Outside the window is the cold and dark of autumn; inside the kitchen it is warm and bright.

Id have liked to have something a little better for your dinner, Sli love, says his partner as she cuts up a meatball for their three-year-old son.

This is just what I wanted, Lra, my sweet, says Sli, smiling as he helps himself to more food. Ill be getting nothing but cream soups, roast meat and gravy for the next month.

Poor you! says Lra with a grin.

Come on, you know what I mean, Sli says, gently pinching her waist.

Sli is first seaman on a freighter and Lra works as a hairdresser in 101 Reykjavk, the heart of the city.

Did I show you that flat on Framnes Road? asks Lra, wiping most of the tomato sauce off her sons face. There were pictures of it in todays paper.

Yes. No I didnt see it, mutters Sli with a sigh. I thought we werent going to look at flats just yet?

Theres no harm in keeping our eyes open, says Lra, irritated.

Yes, I know I just Sli puts his right hand over her left. Its just that there are enough payments as things stand, and

We cant stay here forever, says Lra with a maternal smile for her son, who is guzzling water from a sticky glass. Not now that you know?

I know, Sli says under his breath. He carries on eating, though his appetite is gone.

Well look into it when you get back, okay? says Lra, affectionate now.

Yes, we will. Sli looks tenderly into the eyes of the woman he loves, then the distracting sound of his mobile phone, ringing out in the hall, suddenly makes him tense.

Do you have to answer it? says Lra.

Ill be quick, says Sli, bolting from the table. He fishes the phone out of the inside pocket of his jacket and looks at the lit-up screen.

Name withheld

Hello?

This is Satan.

Sli has no idea of the real name of this man, who introduced himself that way when he phoned the first time, a few days ago.

Yes, hello, says Sli, then continues in a lower voice: Ill phone you back in a while Dont phone again. Ill phone, all right?

Listen to me, says the cold, calm voice on the phone.

No, you listen to

Im in the neighbourhood, says Satan firmly. Would you rather invite me in?

No, I Sli glances into the kitchen, where Lra is pretending to not watch or listen. What do you want?

Sli slips to the front door and peers out the window beside it. He sees a maroon BMW 750 parked halfway up on the footpath across the street. The car is purring in neutral and at the wheel sits a young man the size of a full-grown bear.

You owe money, says the caller.

I know, I know, responds Sli, scratching his head as he speaks. And I intend to

Nobody forced you to play poker with those guys, says the voice, still flat, calm and as cold as before.

No, I

Youre about to sail, arent you? says Satan without waiting for an answer. My client has connections in Colombia. His people will take a package addressed to you to the harbour down there. They know the name of your ship and when its expected to arrive. You are to bring that package home. Do you understand what Im saying?

Smuggling? whispers Sli, so dry mouthed hes hoarse.

First instalment on your debt, says Satan calmly.

First instalment? whispers Sli fiercely, going red to the roots of his hair. I could land in jail. Who How Whats in this?

You sail, you collect the package. Thats it, says Satan icily. Ill make sure nothing happens to your wife and son while youre away. Understand?

If you Dont you dare

You bring the package, Satan interjects with the conviction of one whos in control. I look after the family. Thats it.

What Hello? says Sli, but theres no one on the line, just silence and the echo of his own heartbeat. He again looks out the window, in time to see the BMW roll down off the footpath and disappear around the corner, its exhaust streaming behind it like a tail.

I wonder what it costs to have a man killed? Sli asks himself softly as he returns his mobile phone to his jacket pocket.

Sli has already been in touch with a friend of his cousins who has some knowledge of the underworld; Sli told him about this problem when Satan first called, in the hope that

the friend could give him some good advice or even sort out the mess for him. That guy was pretty tough himself, but when he heard the name Satan he just wished Sli good luck and hung up.

What should he do, Sli wonders now. What can he do?

Sli tries to swallow but feels as if he has a potato stuck in his throat. Then he tries to rid himself of all worries and ugly thoughts before turning back to the kitchen and his family.

Who? asks Lra, giving her partner the look of a woman who suspects theres another woman in the picture. After all, he often disappears for hours on end when hes on shore leave. Whats she supposed to think?

It was just Rnar, says Sli, clearing his throat as he resumes his place at the table. Then he forces a smile and pats his sons head, before he fleetingly looks at his partner, who is trying to rid herself of her suspicions.

Is everything all right? asks Lra cautiously.

Yes, its just Sli sighs. The bosun, Rnar, had phoned him earlier and asked him to meet him and three other crew members before they joined the ship. He was just reminding me of that meeting I told you about.

Oh I see. Lra smiles crookedly.

An hour or so later Sli is sitting by his sons bed, reading him a fairytale by lamplight.

You know Daddy has to leave later on? says Sli when the story is finished.

On the ship? the boy says with a sigh.

Yes.

Can I come too? asks the boy eagerly but without much conviction.

No, lad, says his father, smiling despite all his worries and the pain of parting. You have to look after Mummy for me.

I know, the boy mutters, pulling his doona up to his chin.

Daddy will be thinking about you, says Sli, kissing the boy on the forehead and turning off the light. Your daddy loves you.

Egill loves his daddy, says the boy in the dark. As Sli squeezes the little hand his stomach knots up and salty tears run down his cheeks.

Once the boy is asleep, Sli joins Lra on the couch. She pulls a blanket over the two of them and snuggles up to him.

Candles glow in the living room; incense smokes on top of the darkened television set and the soundtrack of Fire Walk with Me sounds softly from the CD player.

Sli stares at the flames and absentmindedly fiddles with Lras hair, which flows down her back like silk.

You remember Ive got to meet Rnar and the others, says Sli softly and he feels how Lra stiffens under the blanket.

Why?