Page 23 of Meet Me Under the Northern Lights

ON BOARD GUNNAR’S COACH

‘…you will see, if you look out to the left, that there are many horses in Iceland. These horses are unique to our country. Brought here in the ninth and tenth century by Norse settlors, they remain pure bred after more than a thousand years.’

Gunnar waited for the murmured comments of his passengers; a few he could see in the mirror were taking photos. Then he continued.

‘No horses are ever imported. And if an Icelandic horse ever leaves the island, it can never, ever return.’ He paused for a beat. ‘I know this is what we all wished with Donald Trump but here in Iceland with the horses, there are stricter rules than in the American White House.’

The laughs arrived as always.

‘So, relax and take in the views of moss-covered lava fields as we continue towards our next stop.’

Satisfied, he focussed on the driving. It was a little misty here but the sun was trying to break the clouds.

‘Why am I here and not at school?’

It was Magnús from the jump seat just behind him. He had been going to wait until lunchtime before he talked to the boy but, as Magnús had started conversation perhaps he should just roll with it.

‘You were going to really go to school today?’ Gunnar asked.

Silence for a time and then:

‘So, my punishment is to come on the coach all day?’ Magnús asked.

Gunnar thought for a moment before making his reply. ‘This is not a punishment, Magnús. People on this trip have paid to be here, to see the wonderful sights of our great country.’

Magnús sighed. ‘I would rather be at school. Just tell me my punishment. I can do it and then we do not have to do whatever this is.’

Gunnar sighed, eyes firmly on the road, mind wondering how this boy had as much smarts as he did. There was only one way forward. He switched on his indicator.

‘Why don’t you tell me why you hit a girl.’

Gunnar wasn’t sure what he heard first. His voice coming over the speaker system and being broadcast to the whole coach or the gasps from his passengers.

‘ Skítur ! Shit!’

He had no idea why he had translated the Icelandic into English but all his passengers had heard that too as he desperately tried to turn off the microphone and keep his eyes on the road.

‘Listen, everyone! Sshh, listen very carefully!’

Gunnar looked in the rear-view mirror and could see Chloe up from her seat and standing in the centre of the aisle, voice clear, hands beckoning for attention. What was she doing?

Everything got quiet though and all eyes were on her.

‘Can you hear that?’ Chloe continued. ‘It is the whispers of… the huldufólk . The little hidden people that protect Iceland and its legacies.’

Gunnar couldn’t help a small quiet laugh escaping his lips. She was using what he had told her to get him out of a fix. No one had ever done anything like that for him before.

‘I don’t hear anything,’ an American voice drawled.

‘Argh!’ Chloe gasped. ‘You can’t say that! Because, if you are a disbeliever, who knows what will happen?’ She whispered, ‘To all of us.’

‘I hear something,’ another voice said. ‘Like a light whistling.’

‘Yes!’ Chloe said immediately. ‘That is it! The huldufólk !’

Gunnar clicked the microphone back on. ‘And we will be hearing more about the huldufólk when we make our stop. So, sit back, relax and let us see if we continue to hear their almost silent whispering.’

In the mirror he saw Chloe retake her seat.

* * *

It was a coffee and comfort break before they reached Skógafoss waterfall and Gunnar needed both. He handed Magnús a steaming paper cup as they stood outside the service station with fantastic views the passengers were taking photos of.

‘You never let me have coffee,’ Magnús said, readily accepting it.

‘Well, today I do,’ Gunnar said. ‘Do not question it.’

Magnús took a sip of his coffee.

‘Listen, Magnús, I am sorry for my words coming out on the microphone for everyone to hear.’

Magnús shrugged. ‘At least you did not sing. That would have been worse.’

Gunnar drank, let the silence elongate in the hope that…

‘I did not hit anyone,’ Magnús said.

‘OK,’ Gunnar replied.

‘You do not believe me?’

‘I want to, Magnús. But I also believed you were at school this past week.’

‘I wanted to tell you but…’

‘But?’

‘But you are always so busy working and then Hildur fell and?—’

‘All I am hearing are excuses, Magnús,’ Gunnar said.

But what the boy had said about him working a lot was touching a nerve.

He knew that, felt responsibility for it, guilt even.

And now Magnús had stopped talking, and was burying his head in his coffee.

He needed to offer solutions, not still seek to blame.

Moving forward from this was what was required.

‘Tell me what happened,’ Gunnar said.

‘Which time?’ Magnús asked. ‘The time she cut my hair? The time her friends spat on me? Or the time she put dog shit into my locker?’

‘What?’ Gunnar gasped.

Magnús shrugged. ‘I am the boy who should have died along with my parents.’

Gunnar didn’t know what to say, but what he did know was his insides were now bubbling like the molten lava from that fateful night. ‘Did this girl say that to you?’

‘Not only her. But she is the leader.’

‘Magnús! Why did you not tell me about this?’

‘Because you always tell me to be strong. That problems are not problems unless you make them into some. That fighting does not solve things. That?—’

‘Stop,’ Gunnar said, shaking his head. ‘Do not say any more.’ He was feeling that this whole situation was almost entirely of his making. His ‘parental’ advice had been to hold in emotions and put up with issues? He took a breath, eyes going to the mountain peak in the distance.

‘It does not matter,’ Magnús said, shrugging. ‘It is just how the world is.’

‘No,’ Gunnar replied immediately. ‘If that is how the world is, then that is not how the world should continue to be.’ He put a firm hand on the boy’s shoulder. ‘What the girl said is wrong, Magnús. You know that, right? And all the things she has done, they are wrong too.’

He shrugged again. ‘I am different. And they do not like who I am.’

‘And if that is true, then that is their problem, not yours,’ Gunnar reassured him. ‘Everyone is different in some way. If we were all the same then the world would be very boring, no?’ He paused. ‘Imagine if Hildur was quiet and did not express her opinions!’

A small smile appeared on Magnús’s lips. ‘She would not be Hildur.’

‘Exactly! And you are Magnús, exactly who you are meant to be. Whatever this girl and her friends have been saying is because of their own insecurities about themselves. And it will stop. I will make it stop.’ He squeezed Magnús’s shoulder.

‘I did not hit her, Gunnar,’ Magnús said, all big eyes and seriousness. ‘But I pushed her… after she kicked me.’

Gunnar gritted his teeth, feeling that pull of both empathy for what Magnús had endured all on his own without coming to him and anger that this bullying had gone on virtually undetected by the school.

Their lives weren’t perfect, they were unconventional but unconventional did not deserve this kind of disgusting judgement or physical and mental assault.

‘I will come into the school tomorrow,’ Gunnar said. ‘I will speak to Mr Almr.’

‘But you have to work and?—’

‘Magnús, some things are more important than work. No matter what I might have said before.’ He sighed.

‘And you must never ever think that you cannot come to me with these things. That is what I am here for. I know that I am not your father, or even a good-looking older brother, but I made a pledge to take care of you to the best of my ability.’

‘Because there are no orphanages in Iceland,’ Magnús stated.

‘No, Magnús, that is not why,’ Gunnar said.

‘It is because I made two promises that night. The first was to continue looking for life until there was absolutely no hope and the second was to protect and care for whatever or whoever was left. We Icelanders are family, it does not matter what form that takes. This girl and her friends need to learn that fact.’

A few moments passed and then Magnús gave a nod.

‘OK, so we are agreed,’ Gunnar said. ‘No more keeping secrets or telling lies to cover things up. Only honesty.’

‘I think I can do that,’ Magnús said. ‘But can you?’

‘What?’ Gunnar said.

‘Do I need to pretend I am here today for work experience?’ Magnús asked, a glint in his eye.

Gunnar swallowed, ashamed that he had said that to Chloe and also embarrassed that Magnús had overheard him.

‘You do not need to be pretend anything, Magnús,’ Gunnar said. ‘Except perhaps that you believe in the huldufólk for the duration of this trip.’

‘Well, perhaps I do believe in the huldufólk .’

‘My God, Hildur, she has got to you.’