SEVENTH SEQUEL
The toolshed was nearly finished.
Only the door hinges remained.
Henry chose to cut them in elaborate shapes from sturdy leather.
The door was a window salvaged from a church that had been in a state of renovation for ages.
He attached the hinges with brass dome-headed screws and suddenly the plain shed looked precious to him.
He sat down on the ground and with his back against the door made a call to his sister Kristin.
He told her about the tentative search for their sister Leve and the plan to restore the central park.
He explained that he probably would not be able to work with the boat for a long time.
Kristin was delighted with the news.
She wanted to come and help with their endeavours as soon as she had finished her most urgent tasks.
The boat could wait.
As always she would sleep in the playhouse during her stay with them.
Henry told her that the princes and princesses next door had wondered when they would see her again.
He opened the door and carried the garden tools inside.
He walked back to the house, where Alice had started to prepare dinner.
He proposed a picnic by the new toolshed, which she thought was a great idea.
Sitting on a blanket of a subtle tartan plaid (of an origin unknown to them) they leaned against the shed.
They were warmed by the last sun.
Alice was relieved to hear that Kristin was coming.
They would need help in their latest undertakings which seemed overpowering and futile at times.
What if Leve wanted to be left alone, for instance?
She had disappeared many times before without leaving any notice, though this must be her longest absence ever.
And they both had misgivings whether anyone would use the park, if it could ever be restored or renovated.
They agreed that at least the youngest royalties in the neighbourhood surely would enjoy access to the garden.
They could always ask their advice if in doubt how to proceed.
Alice told Henry that Eli had invited her to a concert later that evening.
She would soon have to get ready to go.
Eli had visited her earlier at the café dressed in a wonderful Sami traditional dress with unusually sombre colours.
When Alice asked her about the history of the dress she was told an enormous amount of interesting facts and fictions.
She now remembers only a fraction.
Eli had offered to take care of the café for some days, and Henry and Alice agreed to work with the garden during this time.
They returned to the house and Henry climbed the steep stairs to the attic.
He chose two pictures from a stack and leaned them against the wall in front of a couch.
He sat down and studied them, searching for a way to begin writing.
After some time he laid down to rest.
He awoke from a dream with a riddle and its answer, both which he instantly forgot.
He suddenly became aware of the small torn photo of Leve.
Years ago he had rescued it from her wastebasket and pinned it to the wall.
He began writing:
I took this portrait of me one day,
though I’m not sure what it has to say.
It’s rather intriguing in some ways,
but I can’t see myself in that face.
When I hear my recorded voice
I cringe at the very foreign noise
that’s naturally mine but still not;
my being is an uncomfortable lot.
What I mostly recognize as being me
are lines and images that come to be
a grid through which I’m able to reveal
another me that feels much more real.
Then he looked with anticipation at the blue painting:
White whales are now abundant around you
and there should be no reason to feel blue.
Just tell us about it, so you won’t be alone
and please don’t turn yourself into stone.
You say you’ve told us innumerable times
without the sound of soothing chimes.
You say it’s time to anchor and go ashore.
Should we not search further anymore?
Alice and Eli attended the concert.
Outside they met Johannes, who asked Alice if the Series II Landrover still was used as a flowerpot bench.
She admitted that though the flowerpots were removed nothing had been done to repair it.
He said that he was looking for a spare time challenge like that and offered to see if there was anything to be done.
She told him to come whenever he wanted and that if he needed some tools he could maybe find something in their garage.
He said that he would bring his own tools.
He complimented Eli for her dress and they bid each other farewell.
On her way home Alice recited a verse:
Like riding a mechanical four by four
and getting to see so much more;
encountering hardships and serious bumps
and not being hindered by enormous dumps,
advancing slowly and becoming very dented,
still reaching the feeling of being so contented.
A sports car on a smooth and attended road
gives satisfaction in a different mode,
captures and thrills by the speed of it all,
one can simply enjoy and really have a ball.
And a regular and ordinary car I need
that keeps a more standard speed
to stay on track with others – at least try,
and fix the basic stuff for me and my.
If I have a driver, there’s no way I can know;
I can only guess at where my wheels will go.
For I’m just a passenger who does my best to see
glimpses through windows of what the world can be.
She returned just in time to catch the apple sequence in U2's It's A Beautiful Day video that Henry was watching.
They saw one more music video before going to sleep.
They were stunned.
The toolshed was nearly finished.
Only the door hinges remained.
Henry chose to cut them in elaborate shapes from sturdy leather.
The door was a window salvaged from a church that had been in a state of renovation for ages.
He attached the hinges with brass dome-headed screws and suddenly the plain shed looked precious to him.
He sat down on the ground and with his back against the door made a call to his sister Kristin.
He told her about the tentative search for their sister Leve and the plan to restore the central park.
He explained that he probably would not be able to work with the boat for a long time.
Kristin was delighted with the news.
She wanted to come and help with their endeavours as soon as she had finished her most urgent tasks.
The boat could wait.
As always she would sleep in the playhouse during her stay with them.
Henry told her that the princes and princesses next door had wondered when they would see her again.
He opened the door and carried the garden tools inside.
He walked back to the house, where Alice had started to prepare dinner.
He proposed a picnic by the new toolshed, which she thought was a great idea.
Sitting on a blanket of a subtle tartan plaid (of an origin unknown to them) they leaned against the shed.
They were warmed by the last sun.
Alice was relieved to hear that Kristin was coming.
They would need help in their latest undertakings which seemed overpowering and futile at times.
What if Leve wanted to be left alone, for instance?
She had disappeared many times before without leaving any notice, though this must be her longest absence ever.
And they both had misgivings whether anyone would use the park, if it could ever be restored or renovated.
They agreed that at least the youngest royalties in the neighbourhood surely would enjoy access to the garden.
They could always ask their advice if in doubt how to proceed.
Alice told Henry that Eli had invited her to a concert later that evening.
She would soon have to get ready to go.
Eli had visited her earlier at the café dressed in a wonderful Sami traditional dress with unusually sombre colours.
When Alice asked her about the history of the dress she was told an enormous amount of interesting facts and fictions.
She now remembers only a fraction.
Eli had offered to take care of the café for some days, and Henry and Alice agreed to work with the garden during this time.
They returned to the house and Henry climbed the steep stairs to the attic.
He chose two pictures from a stack and leaned them against the wall in front of a couch.
He sat down and studied them, searching for a way to begin writing.
After some time he laid down to rest.
He awoke from a dream with a riddle and its answer, both which he instantly forgot.
He suddenly became aware of the small torn photo of Leve.
Years ago he had rescued it from her wastebasket and pinned it to the wall.
He began writing:
I took this portrait of me one day,
though I’m not sure what it has to say.
It’s rather intriguing in some ways,
but I can’t see myself in that face.
When I hear my recorded voice
I cringe at the very foreign noise
that’s naturally mine but still not;
my being is an uncomfortable lot.
What I mostly recognize as being me
are lines and images that come to be
a grid through which I’m able to reveal
another me that feels much more real.
Then he looked with anticipation at the blue painting:
White whales are now abundant around you
and there should be no reason to feel blue.
Just tell us about it, so you won’t be alone
and please don’t turn yourself into stone.
You say you’ve told us innumerable times
without the sound of soothing chimes.
You say it’s time to anchor and go ashore.
Should we not search further anymore?
Alice and Eli attended the concert.
Outside they met Johannes, who asked Alice if the Series II Landrover still was used as a flowerpot bench.
She admitted that though the flowerpots were removed nothing had been done to repair it.
He said that he was looking for a spare time challenge like that and offered to see if there was anything to be done.
She told him to come whenever he wanted and that if he needed some tools he could maybe find something in their garage.
He said that he would bring his own tools.
He complimented Eli for her dress and they bid each other farewell.
On her way home Alice recited a verse:
Like riding a mechanical four by four
and getting to see so much more;
encountering hardships and serious bumps
and not being hindered by enormous dumps,
advancing slowly and becoming very dented,
still reaching the feeling of being so contented.
A sports car on a smooth and attended road
gives satisfaction in a different mode,
captures and thrills by the speed of it all,
one can simply enjoy and really have a ball.
And a regular and ordinary car I need
that keeps a more standard speed
to stay on track with others – at least try,
and fix the basic stuff for me and my.
If I have a driver, there’s no way I can know;
I can only guess at where my wheels will go.
For I’m just a passenger who does my best to see
glimpses through windows of what the world can be.
She returned just in time to catch the apple sequence in U2's It's A Beautiful Day video that Henry was watching.
They saw one more music video before going to sleep.
They were stunned.
