The 100-year-old man... p.11~16

[Ellen]

THREE

Monday, May 2, 2005

Just after three o'clock in the afternoon on May 2 the calm of malmkoping was shattered for what would be several days. At first Director Alice at the Old Folks' Home was worried rather than angry, and pulled out her master key. Since Allan had not concealed his escape route, it was immediately obvious that the Birthday Boy had climbed out of the window. Judging by the tracks, he had then stood among the pansies in the flower bed, before disappearing.
By virtue of his position, the mayor felt he should take command. He ordered the staffs to search in pairs. Allan couldn't be far away; the searchers should concenturate on the immediate vicinity. One pair was dispatched to the park, one to the state-run liquor store(a place that Allan had occasionally frequented, Director Alice knew), one to the other shops on Main Street, and one to the Community Center up on the hill. The mayor himself would stay at the Old Folks' Home to keep an eye on the residents who hadn't vanished into thin air and to ponder the next move. He told the searchers that they should be discreet; there was no need to generate confusion, the mayor forgot that one of the pairs of searchers he had just sent out consisted of a reporter from the local paper and her photographer.
The bus station was not included in the mayor's primary search area. In that location, however, a very angry, slightly built young man with long, greasy blond hair, a scraggly beard, and a jean jacket with the words Never Again on the back had already searched every corner of the building. Since there was no trace of either a very old man or a suitcase, the young man took some decisive steps toward the little man behind the only open ticket window, for the purpose of obtaining information as to the old man's possible travel plans.
Although the little man was generally bored with his work, he still had his professional pride. So he explained to the loudmouthed young man that the passenger's privacy was not something that could be compromised, adding firmly that under no circumstances whatsoever would he give him any information of the type that he wished to obtain.
The young man stood in silence for a moment. He then moved five yards to the left, to the not very solid door to the ticket office. He didn't bother to check whether it was locked. Instead he took a step back and kicked the door in with the boot on his right foot so that splinters flew in every direction. The little man did not even have time to lift the telephone receiver to phone for help, before he was dangling in the air in front of the young man, who grasped him firmly by the ears.
--I might not know anything about privacy, but I'm good at getting people to talk, said the young man to the little ticket seller before he let him drop down with a bump onto his revolving office chair.
At which point the young man explained what he intended to do with the little man's genitals, with the help of a hammer and nails, if the little man did not comply with his wishes. The decision was so realistic that the little man immediately decided to say what he thought, namely that the old man in question had presumably taken a bus in the direction of Strangnas. Whether the man had taken a suitcase with him, he couldn't say, as he was not the sort of person who spied on his customers.
The ticket seller then stopped talking to ascertain how satisfied the young man was with what he had said, and immediately determined that it would be best for him to provide further information. So he said that on the journey between Malmkoping and Stangnas there were twelve stops and that the old man could of course get out at any one of those. The person who would know was the bus driver, and according to the timetable he would be back in Malmkoping at ten after seven that same evening, when the bus made its return journey to Flen.
The young man sat down beside the terrified little man with throbbing ears.
--Just need to think, he said.
So he thought. He thought that he should certainly be able to shake the bus driver's mobile phone number out of the little man, and then call the driver and say that the old man's suitcase was actually stolen property. But then of course there was a risk that the bus driver would involve the police and that was not something the young man wanted. Besides, it was probably not so urgent really, because the old man seemed dreadfully old and now that he had a suitcase to drag around, he would need to travel by train, bus, or taxi if he wanted to continue his journey from the station in Strangnas. He would thus leave new tracks behind him, and there would always be somebody who could be dangled by the ears to say where the old man was heading. The young man had confidence in his ability to persuade people to tell him what they knew.
When the youth had finished thinking, he decided to wait for the bus in question to return so he could interview the driver without undue politeness.
When he had decided, the young man got up again, and explained to the ticket seller what would happen to him, his wife, his children, and his home if he told the police or anybody else what had just occurred.
The little man had neither wife nor children, but he was eager to keep his ears and genitals more or less intact. So he gave his word as an employee of the national railways that he wouldn't say a peep.
That was a promise he kept until the next day.
The two-man search groups came back to the Old Folks' Home and reported on what they had seen. Or rather hadn't seen. The mayor instinctively did not want to involve the police and he was desperately trying to think of alternatives, when the local newspaper reporter dared to ask:
--And what are you going to do now, Mr. Mayor?
The mayor was silent for a few moments; then he said:
--Call the police, of course.
God, how he hated the free press!

Allan woke when the driver kindly nudged him and announced that they had now reached Byringe Station. Shortly afterward, the driver maneuvered the suitcase out the front door of the bus, with Allan close behind.
The driver asked if he could now manage on his own, and Allan said that the driver had no need to worry in that respect. Then Allan thanked him for his help and waved good-bye as the bus rolled out onto the highway again.
Tall fir trees blocked the afternoon sun and Allan was standing to feel a bit chilly in his thin jacket and indoor slippers. He could see no sign of Byringe, let alone its station. There was just forest, forest, and forest in all directions -- and a little gravel road leading to the right.
Allan thought that perhaps there were warm clothes in the suitcase he had on impulse brought along with him. Unfortunately the suitcase was locked and without a screwdriver or some other tool it was surely hopeless to try to open it. There was no other option but to start moving, otherwise he would freeze to death. And given past experiences, he was pretty sure he wouldn't succeed in doing that even if he tried.
The suitcase had a strap at the top and if you pulled it, the suitcase rolled along nicely on its small wheels. Allan followed the gravel road into the forest with short, shuffling steps. The suitcase followed just behind him, skidding on the gravel.
After a few hundred yards, Allan came to what must be Byringe Station -- a closed-down building next to a most definitely and absolutely former railway line.
Allan was in excellent shape as far as centenarians went, but it was all getting to be a bit too much.He sat down on the suitcase to gather his thoughts and strength.
To Allan's left stood the shabby, yellow two-story station. All the windows on the bottom floor were covered with planks. To his right you could follow the no longer used railway line into the distance, straight as an arrow even deeper into the forest. Nature had not yet succeeded in entirely eating up the tracks, but it was only a matter of time.
The wooden platform was evidently no longer safe to walk on. On the outermost planking you could still read a painted sign: Do Not Walk on the Track. The track was certainly not dangerous to walk on, thought Allan. But who in his right mind would voluntarily walk on the platform?
That question was answered immediately, because at that very moment the shabby door of the station building was opened and a man in his seventies wearing a cap stepped out of the house. Given his big boots, he clearly trusted the planks not to give way and he was entirely focused on the old man in front of him. His initial attitude was hostile, but then he seemed to change his mind, possibly as a result of seeing what a decrepit specimen of humanity had invaded his territory.

[Ellen]

Chapter3 일부예요..애가 제 컴을 갖고 가버려서 아이패드로 치다보니 좀 늦네요 ㅎ

[이인경]

아이패드로!!! 이 많은 것을!!! 진짜 고생 많으셨어요~~ 저도 쳐 주신 것 뒷부분 이어서 쳐봤는데~ㅋㅋㅋ 진짜 머리 어깨 팔 삭신이 다 쑤시네요~ㅎㅎㅎ 넘 고생 많으셨어요!!!