Beneath the surface
A shimmer of pink. The color of farewells. A setting sun, gazing over the fjord, letting the small ripples on its surface dance one last time before they were swallowed by darkness. This time it wasn’t the fjord, but Hesteyri’s newfound ocean that glistened before Kaisa’s feet. The fjord scared her as soon as the sun was gone. The deep waters, the dock that looked like it reached into and endless nothing. She wondered what these waters would turn into, once the sun wasn’t looking anymore.
There were still no cats, no humans out. Kaisa looked around, pushing Orla a bit further up her back while her arms and legs started to feel sour. As her legs submerged in the warm stream and soaked the fabric of her pants, her body started to feel much lighter. She saw the little schools of fish gather around her legs, curiously nibbling on her jeans. She loved Iceland, but she sometimes dreamed of warm waters, full of life and colors. It’s hard to want so many different things sometimes.
“Should we go? Kaisa?”
Rita’s voice seeped through her clouded mind, and all Kaisa could manage was a brisk nod. She stepped all the way in until it reached the water up to her bellybutton. Kaisa was sure it hadn’t been this deep before, but shrugged it off. As Orla’s lower half lifted and the strain on her shoulders finally eased, she briefly even let go of her legs to give her arms a bit of rest, letting Orla gently float behind her.
“Hey, she’s waking up! And her cheeks are flushing a bit.”
Just as Rita had said it, Kaisa felt Orla’s fingers move.
“It might be the water,” Kaisa said, though she didn’t quite know why.
“The water?”
“How’s your back?”
Rita, looking rather puzzled at first, slowly lifted her shoulders, then carefully started to twist them from side to side. She reached behind her back, but when she looked into the palm of her hand, it was clean.
“It’s…it’s fine? But how?” Rita mumbled, a careful smile pulling at the corners of her mouth. Kaisa watched her as she let her hand sink slowly below the surface.
“This water. It’s like…I don’t know. The opposite of everything else.”
“A river of antibiotics, maybe?” Kaisa said, and tried not to laugh at her own joke before she didn’t at least see Rita’s face light up. To Kaisa’s relief, she chuckled and rolled her eyes.
“That was pathetic,” Rita replied with a familiar, yet still hestitant chime in her voice. So perhaps all was well…maybe she didn’t mind after all.
Kaisa swallowed and briefly smiled at her best friend before she lifted Orla’s hands from around her neck.
“You know what, I think your mom is just fine. I think I should drop her in.”
Rita wanted to protest, but before she could say anything, Kaisa had let herself and Orla drop all the way into the warm stream.
The previous night
“What a curious little boy, but maybe just a lost boy after all? What do you think this all means?”
Orla pulled herself closer to her husband’s arm. She sank her face into the high collar of her down jacket and let her breath leave a warm, wet trace along its edge.
“I have no idea, love, but I have a feeling.”
“Care to share?”
“I have a feeling that there won’t be much time for guessing. I have a feeling none of this is really just happening out of sheer coincidence, you know?”
“So suspicious, my man is, ”Orla said, chuckled, and leaned her head onto Thorinn’s shoulder, which made him visibly uneasy. Orla saw him roll his eyes, but she could tell he hadn’t meant for her to see it, and she’d do him the courtesy to pretend she hadn’t. They walked in silence for a while, treading carefully on the compressed snow on their way home. It was quiet. So quiet that when Orla suddenly came to a halt, pulling at Thorinn’s arm, it almost made him lose his balance.
“Did you see that?” she whispered, her fingers clasped around the creases of his jacket.
“Good lord, woman! See what?”
“There, that window. That’s Onna’s house, isn’t it?”
Thorinn glanced up at the yellow facade, but all he could see were two dark windows staring back at him.
“I-I mean yes, it’s Onna’s house, alright. She’s probably sleeping. And can you please, PLEASE stop finding more things to worry about? Please? Can we just go home?”
Orla didn’t particularly appreciate being dismissed like this, especially because she knew deep down that he was right. They were both tired, and they’d had enough on their plates already, but as much as Orla wanted to just keep walking, something stopped her.
“I just thought I saw Onna standing in the window. But she turned off the light right as I looked.”
“And it is a known crime to stand in your window and turn off the light, got it. We should call the police.”
Orla raised her eyebrows, but to her surprise Thorinn didn’t fold as usual. Instead, he held her gaze with confidence. Clearly he didn’t want to make this a thing, so why couldn’t she just let it go?
“There is no police,” Orla replied, sounding just a tad bit annoyed.
“Then let’s kill her ourselves. How dare she do what she wants in her own house.”
With an exaggerated eyeroll Orla pulled on Thorinn’s arm again, secretly hoping it would make him lose his balance just a little bit.
“No, that’s obviously not what I mean. She looked strange.”
“She looked strange? Orla, you just said she turned off the light right as you looked over. Doesn’t seem like that’s enough time to make such a statement.”
Orla’s hesitated, accompanied by a loud exhale. Unfortunately for her, her husband was making a lot more sense.
“I will give you that one, but only tonight. Let’s go home, I’m dead tired,” Orla finally said, and she could see Thorinn ease up a little.
“I will never forget your generosity.”
“As you should.”
They shared a laugh and made a left turn into their street.
As they walked up the stairs to their house, Orla opened the front door, turned on the lights, took off her shoes and placed them next to the entrance, one pointing towards her, one pointing the other direction. She threw her jacket onto the floor and made her way upstairs. Thorinn put his shoes onto the little wardrobe stand, but walked over to the kitchen and threw his coat onto the table. A well-rehearsed ritual that would ensure their things would later turn up where they could find them. One Thorinn had known his entire life, and Orla had never really gotten used to.
He followed his wife upstairs so they both could finally let the day come to an end. Or so they had hoped. Because something kept them tossing and turning that night. Maybe part of them knew. Nothing really rests while you’re not looking.
Nothing.
Neither of the two slept well that particular night. Something was brooding outside, was pulling at the seams of their small, hidden, strange town, and if the ground beneath your feet starts to crumble, one better keep their senses sharp. And as they set out to check on their daughter the next morning, carried by a feeling of urgency neither of them dared to admit to, nothing could have prepared them for what was about to unfold before their very eyes.
The house across the street, Hekla’s house, stood ablaze. Flames spitting and spewing from the shattered windows, engulfing the roof, the walls. But within the blink of an eye it was over. The next moment, the house was gone. In its stead there was just the empty lot. When it reappeared it was broken in half, right in the middle, as if something had cracked it open like a nut. It was nauseating.
Another house stood upside down, tumbling over, then righting itself once again, like a videotape being played and rewound over and over. And among all of that chaos, there were the cats. Cats sprinting from house to house, scratching at the doors. One of them ran over as soon as it saw them.
“Leave!”
“What? Leave? What do you mean ‘leave’? Where to?” Orla shouted, the mayhem buzzing in her ears, making it impossible to think.
“Away from this town.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” she shouted, grabbed Thorinn’s arm and sprinted down the steps. She’d half expected him to be frozen, shocked, but to her surprise he quickly outpaced her as they ran towards Nonni’s house. They had turned the corner into her street when Thorinn came to a sudden stop and Orla slammed into his back.
“What are you -?! Oh no…”
Onna’s house. Or whatever was left of it. The curtains were closed, the facade gray and cracked. The flowers had all wilted, the grass dried. From the windows and cracks oozed a dark, tar-like substance. It was quiet now. So quiet. Like it was waiting.
Both Orla and Thorinn stood rooted to the spot, while the world around them descended into chaos. Neither of them dared to move. Then, with a silent, subtle click, the door sprang open. Orla inhaled through gritted teeth and grabbed her husband’s arm.
“We need to leave, Thorinn. We need to get away from this house.”
There was no answer, and Orla found it difficult to read the expression on his face, but it worried her. As he kept staring at the open door she pulled on his sleeve, but he didn’t even turn his head.
“I’m sorry…”
Thorinn freed his arm from her grip and sprinted towards Onna’s house.
“Thori- wait! STOP!”
Orala ran after him, just one step behind, but as soon as Thorinn crossed the threshold, the door slammed shut.
“No, NO. NO! Let me in, you stupid fucking house! LET ME IN!”
She hammered her fists at the closed door, but it didn’t even rattle. She put her head against it, listening for her husband to shout, but nothing, nothing. Just silence.
“What the fuck are you doing, Thorinn? HEY! If you trash piece of shit house think you can lock me out then you’ll have to think again. I will rip you apart, and if it’s the last thing I do.”
She pushed herself off the closed door, and ran back home, which, to her luck, still stood intact. With a fiery anger, she ran up the stairs.
That stupid fucking hammer! That stupid, goddamn hammer…
“Where is this fucking thing…”
She crossed her bedroom, ran up to the bathroom door, and ripped it open. But instead of looking at her shower, she found herself staring into two sunken milky white eyes.
“Welcome home.”
Orla shot up from under the surface, taking a breath so deep it hurt her lungs.
“Thorinn?”
She turned around and saw Rita stare up at her, her eyes wide open, her hands stiffly pressed against her sides.
“Rita…? Rita, you’re alright? You’re alright…”
And before Rita could answer, Orla had already pulled her into her arms.
“Mom…mom, what happened? What happened to you?”
Rita’s words were as hesitant as her embrace, but her hands slowly closed around her mother’s back. Orla pulled her closer.
“I don’t know. I’m so sorry, but it’s really all I’ve got.”
While mother and daughter lay in each other’s arms, Kaisa watched them both from beneath the surface, watched their bodies distort in the ripples and little waves. Orla was fine. Good. One down.
She was sitting cross-legged on the pavement, trying her hardest not to float up to the surface too soon. It was peaceful down here. When her lungs started to ache she closed her eyes and thought about the wall. That mountain. And how she hated it. Maybe on the other side, the fish were red, too.
“You look like a frog,” Orla said as Kaisa finally surfaced. She let her white hair float around her head and only peeked her head out to the bottom of her nose. Rita met her eyes only briefly then looked away again, and all Kaisa wanted then was to sink back down.
“Glad you’re still you. Was worried your wit had leaked out from that shriveled lump you were just a second ago,” Kaisa said as she got up, the fresh breeze prickling on her wet skin.
“Not in this lifetime, sweetheart,” Orla said, but her smile quickly faded. “Girls…girls, I…how long have I been in there?”
“One night. Just…one,” Rita answered, and Kaisa nodded slowly, rubbing her fingers together, remembering the dry, coarse feeling of dust in between them as she walked through Orla’s bedroom earlier. Just one night…
“Mom, you were at Kaisa’s house yesterday. Yesterday!”
Orla looked back and forth in between the two girls, sighed, took the soaked headband off and gently wrung out her hair.
“It was so strange. We came back, went to bed and the next day all hell had broken loose.”
“What do you mean? Do you know where everybody is? Where is dad? We have to go get him. Don’t you think he’s in danger? I mean…you were!”
“Something tells me it’s not gonna be that easy,” Kaisa said, watching Orla as she proceeded to pull her wet curls apart.
“I’m afraid you’re right. Don’t worry, my love, I’ve tried charging head first, which is what got me into that mess in the first place. Your father is in Onna’s house.”
Rita gasped and Kaisa turned around, staring at the bend where Orla’s street met hers. She couldn’t see the house now, but she remembered passing it earlier.
“Nobody should be in there…not even Onna,” she mumbled and saw Rita shoot her a look from the corner of her eye, but this time she turned around to meet it. Kaisa would have changed the world for Rita. She’d have made it less scary, less chaotic, less volatile. But the world was the world. Kaisa was Kaisa. That’s just how it was.
Orla told them what had happened, about the chaos, the cats. Onna’s house. Thorinn’s apology.
“‘I’m sorry?’ What did he mean ‘I’m sorry’?” Rita said, and Kaisa wondered whether she actually expected her mother to know the answer.
“Probably means he knew what he was doing,” Kaisa replied, realizing a little too late what she was implying, and only once she noticed Orla and Rita having gone suspiciously quiet. No matter how long she waited for them to respond, they just kept looking at each other.
“What else is it supposed to mean?” Kaisa pressed as nobody wanted to answer. Finally, Orla sighed and nodded slowly.
“It’s what I’ve been thinking. I just don’t like the idea that he might’ve been keeping secrets from me. But I guess you’re onto something.”
She sounded distant, maybe even a little sad, though Kaisa didn’t want to read too much into it. She wasn’t all that good at reading people, or so she always thought.
“Also what was that…thing? That thing that pretended to be you. Is any of this supposed to make any sense? Hesteyri going up in flames, your husband doing who knows what and then you being captured in your own house? Us almost getting killed? What is happening? And why does it feel so-”
“Targeted.”
It was the first thing Rita had said in a while, and it made Kaisa slightly jump. But she was right. That’s exactly how it felt. Orla cleared her throat and put a hand onto Rita’s shoulder.
“I don’t know. But I’d say it doesn’t matter. What matters is that we’re all up and well and what also matters is that we now go and find your father.”
Typical, Kaisa thought. The unyielding woman. Rita clearly took more after her father, though Kaisa was smart enough not to mention such a thing in the wrong moment.
“What if…what if he doesn’t want to be found? What if you’re right?” Rita said, her voice shaking. She tried to pull away from her mother’s hand, but instead of letting her go Orla grabbed her other shoulder too and looked her right in the eyes.
“I’m the one who says what he’s allowed to want, and let me tell you he’s definitely not allowed to want that.”
Kaisa laughed, and it blew through their conversation like a refreshing little breeze.
“Maybe he just needed a break from you, ever thought about that?” she said, biting her lip. Orla rolled her eyes and started to laugh too.
“Hah, that’s not allowed either.”
