Boy on the Edge by Fridrik Erlings

Author:Fridrik Erlings [Erlings, Fridrik]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9780763670375
Publisher: Candlewick Press
Published: 2012-03-06T22:00:00+00:00

And the rain arrived.

Gray drapes glided across the ocean, dragging their hem over the land. The mountains in the north were covered in a white mist that wove around the ridge, stretching out over the lava fields and blocking every view. Only the nearest surroundings were visible, a stretch of lava and the white farmhouses with their red roofs. It rained from every angle. The wind pounded Henry’s face with water as he came around the corner. His feet splashed with every step, and the cows’ cloven hooves sank deep into the mud by the gate.

John and Mark had finally finished mowing the field. The tractor stood by the barn wall with the mower raised. The sharp edges of the blades were coated in bits of grass. In weather like this there was nothing to do but wait; wait for the rain to stop, wait, wait. No work could be done on the foundations of the church either, for the sand ran everywhere. Nor was there any point in breaking the lava slabs into rocks in this kind of weather. It was out of the question. But not for Henry.

After milking, he limped across the yard without a dry thread on his clothes. He found the crowbar and dragged it behind him, toward the quarry. Grabbing it with both hands, he struck the lava with all his might. His rage gave him power, like a force of nature, like a giant crunching the earth beneath his feet. The rain poured down and the storm pelted water against his face and shoulders, but he hardly noticed it. It felt good to break rocks in the howling wind and the hissing rain, felt good to squeeze the cold iron crowbar, to raise it high and then strike it against the lava, which cracked with a hollow sigh.

It felt good to work like crazy when he didn’t have to. He wasn’t working for the reverend. He wasn’t working for anyone. He was doing it because he was furious.

He raised the crowbar high and thrust it down with all his might. A piece of rock broke off the lava, and the raindrops drilled the earth, hammering his forehead like nails.

He had given his cave to John and nothing had changed. John didn’t come to talk to him. It was just as he’d known it would be; they would never be friends.

He didn’t want John’s friendship, anyway. He just wanted to be left alone.

Suddenly he was exhausted and threw the crowbar to the ground and stormed back to his room. He stood for a long time in the quiet until his head was finally empty of curses.

The tempest subsided during the night.

In the morning, Henry heard the yellow Volvo honk farewell at the gate as Oswald drove to the city. The car disappeared down the road. This was the chance John and Mark had been waiting for; Henry knew the party would be tonight. Right after breakfast John and Mark attached the large metal tedder, which would rake the hay, to the tractor and drove to the field.

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