DALECALIA

We are leaving for Dalecalia. In the forest we will search for withered flowers. At night we are planting them among the tombs. It will make them flourish again.

THE UNKNOWN BRINGS NO DESIRE

I try to plan my day, my week and my life. I am planning to make my day, my week and my life as good as possible. I think I make the best of my life by planning. I also believe that I can satisfy my desires and wishes in the best way by planning.

But, I forget that I walk into the unknown. We all travel into the unknown- and the unknown brings no desire.

CHAPTER 8

Trolls

There are various kinds of trolls. Forest trolls, garden trolls, stone trolls, giant trolls, small trolls, lucky trolls and many more. Even though they can appear different on the outside they all have things in common. Trolls put value in alone time. Resting on a tree stump, lie in wait under a bush or napping by the fire. They also appreciate fine dining and impressive festivities. Both large and small trolls can be noisy. Would you ever join a troll festivity prepare yourself for the ear-splitting music and cries of joy.  They are special in many ways and can sometimes look as if they are put under a spell by walking like robots or starring hypnotized. Trolls have the ability to fall in love with things- things or creatures. Once there was a mountain troll big as a house that spent his whole life in front of a yellow birds cage. Day in and day out he watched over the little bird and whistled along with its song. The day when the bird fell dead off the stick the mountain troll buried it with all his families saved treasures. Later, the troll died of heartache.

On Beckasin road you can get familiar with your own trolls. The ones you can not always put your finger on and strike the hair of. These trolls can be hiding under your skin, in your mind or holding on to a lost secret.  The trolls inside of you have big impact of your life. It is of no matter whether the troll is of good or bad, a light memory or a chaos feeling. You still need to be acquainted with your personal trolls. The tricky thing is that they will hold on to you and you will probably have trouble not holding on to them.

I found it easier to bring out the troll and to put it in front of me, so that you can have a really good look at it.  The hard part is to evaluate if you need to get rid of it and then how you can do that in the best way.  When I was a child I met a troll in my school. It was not a nice troll and we did not get along that well. He sneaked around in the school hallway and sometimes he waited for me when class was over. I remember finding the troll walking over my painting with boots dipped in paint. At last I tried my best to avoid the troll. It took several years before I finally jumped on a train and escaped from it. Today I think I have managed to get rid of him, but I would not be surprised if he finds me someday.

Trolls are greater than pirates when it comes to treasures and jewels. Mountain trolls gather their treasures in huge stone vaults. It happens that these vaults get so crowded with gold and silver that they create cracks in the earth’s surface.  Smaller and outlaw trolls hide its treasures like squirrels in a tree or like an arctic fox under the moss. Trolls are greedy but above all they are clever. The greatest ideas all come from the minds of troll. The entire world’s trolls together posses all the greatest recipes for magic and witchcraft. Even if they are greedy, they have shared some wisdom to others, like goblins and creatures of the forest. Unfortunately, some recipes have been stolen by the darker powers of our world.

Saying farewell to a troll is not an easy task. Especially, since you do not know if the troll will die of sorrow.  It can be as heartbreaking as liberating. However, most goodbyes end with a battle. I still hope for my school troll to give up his search, since it otherwise will end with his death.

HOLD ON

You can not hold on to everything. One must let go of things to be able to carry on new. I have a troll in my pocket and I can not carry it forever.

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TO JUMP ON THE TRAIN

Some people spend their whole lives watching trains go by. Not realizing that they were supposed to jump on- leave their hat on the station and to serenely take a seat. It is sad to know how many people that are still standing on the railway station with their old hat on. They will not be free from their thoughts, or released from their scruples. Neither of them will take the possibility to improve their way of life- to offer their lives the chances that are given to them.

Occasionally, I am afraid to be one of those people.

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CHAPTER 7

Let it go

The man in the hat lifted his hand higher. Now I stood eye to eye with the little troll.  The troll breathed rapidly in the little man’s hand. His body of rocks seemed no longer to be of stone and stiffed by glue. I sneaked up the clothespin and attached it to his shirt. His eyes were large and blinked slowly. He looked a bit like a sad pet with tears in his eyes.  The small fists were still holding the ripped sequins. I took up a silver bean and the troll followed it with great interest. He squinted and grimaced. When the bean was within reach he reached out for it with his arms. The bumpy sequins fell like glitter rain to the wet ground. I gave him the bean and the man in the hat lowered his hand. I had a troll hanging in a clothespin cuddling a bean. The man in the hat tap-danced around us while throwing the sequins in the air. His shoes clattered on the street.  I took my forefinger and stroke the little troll over his rough hair.

The little man returned to his wagon. He bent over slightly as if he was searching for something in the bottom of the wagons body. “Oh, there it is”, he said. He pulled out a shimmering tuxedo. The jacket fitted him perfectly even though his tummy was like a balloon. He turned around so that I only could see his back and the pointy shoulders of is glitter jacket. One hand flew up in the air and he lifted his forefinger. Like a ballet dancer he turned with his finger on the top of his tall hat.  Round and round, faster and faster! The little man turned into a red and blue twisting blur. Then, he popped up with his arms in the air. The hat had become bigger and was decorated with stars and sparkles. He opened his mouth and with a powerful voice he shouted “tickets for the circus”!

How much do you want for two tickets, I replied? The little man leaned forward over his wagon. At first he was quiet. He looked at me and then he gazed at the troll that was still hanging in the air from my clothespin. I felt despair.  “You can not have the troll”, I said. “Let go of the troll”, the little man responded. “You are holding on to that troll like the troll is holding on to his bean”, he continued. My thoughts went around in my head. I could not speak. I did not know what to do. When I looked at the troll, I just could not let it go and I did not know why. It felt better to keep it, but at the same time I did not want it. I was a bit afraid of it. In haste I put down the troll in my jacket pocket. The little man shook his head at me and pointed with two fingers. “I want two silver beans for two tickets”, he said.  Then he continued, “and speed up because time is running out”. “We all have a train to catch, he muttered.

GO WITH THE WIND

I have trouble making decisions. I know where I want to end, but I can not choose which way I want to go to reach that goal. I would appreciate if something or someone could just lead the way sometimes.

THINKING HAT

Today I am wearing a thinking hat. I have too many thoughts whirling around in my head and I can not bring order to them. It is totally tiring.

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CHAPTER 6

The darkness of the night sneaked in over Beckasin road and along with the awakening streetlights came the shadows. Shadows rose from the boxwood hedges and the shades from the trees looked like they wanted to grab us in their arms. As we slowly walked down the road our silhouettes created ghostly characters in the pavement. The wind shook the treetops above our heads and jagged the edges of the shadows. The bell on Polo’s collar echoed pleasantly in the dark and one by one we tripped along.

The air was cold and I shivered in my sequin jacket. One hand I kept warm in my jeans pocket while the other hand had a firm grip of the velvet bag with the beans. Luckily I was wearing sneakers and Elfvie had kept her slippers on, so we could make our way almost silently. As we moved down Beckasin road we passed the small brick houses. I took the opportunity and peeked in through the lighted windows. The night gave me a clear view right into the homes of Elfvies neighbours. In almost all the houses stood already an elderly and met my eye through the glass, as if they had foreseen that we would walk past.  Some stood with empty eyes starring out in the night. Others stood alert and watched with their hands as spyglasses. I hurried on and kept close to Elfvie and Polo. I tried not to look, but in the corner of my eye I saw the old ones still looking after us as we passed them. Close behind me floated one black and one white person still battling.

As we came closer to the park the evening air closed in upon us. It smelled of wet leaves and forest moss. We met not a single person or being on our way. The wind made the swings squeak over the playground. The biggest trees creaked like the pirate ship at sea.  We stopped under a streetlight. Elfvies west sparkled. She released Polo from the leash and the dog took off over the park. “Hide and seek!” she cried after him. Her voice sounded for once weak and fragile. She turned around and smiled at me. The evening mist made her glasses almost impossible to see through and the humid from her breath flew into the air like white clouds. Elfvie took a seat in the shade of an oak and sprinkled the silver beans in a circle around it. She suggested that I look for the troll at the retirement home. Maybe someone from there had swiped it home with them. So, I started to stroll back the same way as we came.

I turned a few times to see Elfvies breath rise behind the oak as smoke signals. The further away from the park I got, the more it felt like I was no longer alone.  All the houses had put out their lights. Not even a bedside lamp could give me some comfort. It seemed like the road was empty, but there was tiny sounds all around that made me wary.  I took a deep breath and tried to keep my legs calm. No running, I repeated in my head. You are too old to run, I told myself.  This reminded me of when I was little. I always threw myself up the stairs from the basement when leaving the laundry room.  Neither my little sister nor I wanted to be the one who had to put out all the lamps on the ground floor of the house. You had to start with the lamps in the living room farthest from the staircase to the upper floor. Then you raced through the rooms as if the darkness was chasing you. If you were lucky then someone had let the lamp in the hallway upstairs stay lit. The two persons behind me had calmed down and the white one was right now shaking its finger at the black one.

Again, I told myself to get a grip and I stopped on the pavement. The velvet bag had become damped in my hand. I opened the little knot and took out a few beans. They were so smooth and polished. I continued to walk towards the retirement home and through the branches I could catch a glimpse of its high carillon and towers. I dropped a bean after the other with a few meters apart to attract the lost troll. The wind snatched hold of the big tree above my head and chestnuts started to fall like rain. I ran aside and brushed off the shoulders of my glitter jacket. Suddenly, I was dazzled. Colourful and bright lamps were turned on and a little man started to wind funny music from his wagon.  On a large sign above the wagon, it was written with squiggly letters “tickets and popcorn”.

The little man was wearing a magician hat taller than himself. His gigantic pants were pulled up over his great tummy and his shoes were way to big.  I stumbled to the wagon and smiled suspiciously to the little man. He stopped winding the music, but it still continued to play. Humming he started to fold a paper bowl. His nose was very red and his brushy eyebrows made it hard to see his eyes. A stiff shirt collar pressed up his cheeks and made his face look a bit amusing. Even though his fingers were chubby they were quick and nimble. In a few seconds he had made a perfect bowl with laced edges. Still humming, the little man filled the bowl with warm popcorn and handed it to me. He smiled with satisfaction. I took the popcorn bowl and tasted. They were delicious.  The little man cleared his throat loudly and for long time. He coughed a little as well and waved at my face. Eventually he got some words out of his mouth. “Should you not let your friend have a taste as well?” he said. My friend, I asked? The man walked around the wagon and tapped me on my back. He puffed and groaned and for a second I thought he would rip the jacket. Then he came around again and lifted his big hand to my face. Slowly he opened his fingers. In the middle of his palm sat a small troll with sequins in his fists.

WHO SHOULD I CHEER FOR?

"...I felt a sad anger that was directed at myself. As if two persons, one white and one black, fought against each other but in the same body. I did not know whom I ought to cheer on. Should I cheer on the black person that is punching the white person or would I be better off by encouraging the white person lying down trying to get back on it’s feet?" (chapter 5)

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A THING FOR POLO

I have a thing for Polo. Not as in Elfvie's dog, but as in poloshirt. It is definitely my favorite piece for this fall.  One can hide behind a polo. A polo gives you the right appearance at the right time.

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CHAPTER 5

Put on your glitter suit, for we are off troll hunting

In the hallway past the bathroom just before the bedroom you find a door to a closet. Normal people would have used it to stow their cleaning things, but on Beckasin road you use it for more uncommon gear and objects. While Elfvie stood with her head down a chest I was trying out sequin jackets. Trolls love glitter. Everything that sparkles, shines, shimmer or twinkles get them out of bounds. They twist their plump hands, bite their lips and grimace until they cannot fight back their craving and then throws themselves over what has attracted their eye.

I found a jacket that fitted me well. It was a bit tight over my shoulders but I liked it. I stood before the mirror and studied myself from head to toe. I spun and looked at my reflection. The jacket was certainly shimmering. I approached the glass and stared at my face. With my fingers I pulled up my eyes, pressed my nose and dragged the corners of my mouth to create the most horrible faces. I could not stop. One grimace after another confirmed my ugliness. My face started to turn red when suddenly Elfvies mirror image appeared behind me. “What are you up to”, she asked in a harsh voice? Nothing I said, but it was too late. Elfvies ice blue eyes narrowed, the nose wrinkled and her chin went from cuddly round to pointy. Her face twisted and soon she looked like one of the devil statues of St Petri Church. I stood there with my mouth wide open, but the jangle from my jacket revealed my fear. Elfvies face went into a sad clown before her face restored to normal. The room went calm and she smiled behind her glasses. My throat hurt and I swallowed the tears. “Go and wash your face”, she said.

Elfvies bathroom reminds you of the hallway. The ceramic tiles are green as moss and goes all over the floor and the walls.  Along the wall to the right stands a huge bathtub. The tub is in some way tiled into the wall and has no feet. On the floor you will slip on a furry bath mat that also has the colour green. Across from the tub you find an ancient basin and above it a cabinet with a rusty mirror. The cabinet is almost empty except from a toothbrush and a few patches. On a shelf above the tub are diverse decorative items and bath treats. Dolls with big crocheted skirts are also standing on the shelf. Lift their skirts and you will see that they are hiding something as ordinary as toilet rolls.

I turned on the tap and splashed my face with cold water and then rested my head in the guest towel. It’s sweet scent of lavender made me sleepy. I felt a sad anger that was directed at myself. As if two persons, one white and one black, fought against each other but in the same body. I did not know whom I ought to cheer on. Should I cheer on the black person that is punching the white person or would I be better off by encouraging the white person lying down trying to get back on it’s feet? A damped knocking on the door woke me up from my lavender coma. If not the bathroom door had been padded with jungle fabric the knocking would have scared me to hiccup. I unlocked the door and sneaked out into the hall.

Elfvie took up her head from the depths of the coffin. “I found it”, she said. She stood up looking at me. “Have you taken a nap”, she asked? But, without waiting for an answer she continued with excitement. “It is late and it’s time for hide and seek”.  She gave me a quick pat on the head and then opened my hands. From a velvet bag she poured small beans dipped in silver. She laughed raspy with eagerness. The beans can be used as bait if your sequin jacket is not enough of attraction, Elfvie said. She also gave me a clothespin to keep hold of the troll. When the troll puts it hands on the bean the bean is the only thing it cares about. The troll will hang on to that little bean as if it were life itself.

Polo stood by the patio door ready to take a stroll under the streetlights. Elfvie had taken on a sequin vest and hung a small bell on the dog’s collar. “We go together at first”, she whispered. The other trolls on the table reached after us. Our shimmering armour dazzled them. We were ready. In line stood I, Elfvie, Polo, one white -and one black person. Elfvie opened the glass door to the garden and we all stepped out into the night.

AGAINTS THE CLOCK

I write against the clock. For each day my way to Beckasin road is becoming trickier to find. I need time to show you how to get there before it is impossible to discover, but I must not anticipate the events.