CHAPTER FOURTEEN

A Riddle

Well, I’m blowed!’ exclaimed Bastibalagom after a moment, ‘I’d like to see that with my own eyes! What could stop us from leaving if we wanted to?’

‘Yes,’ Tomek backed him up, ‘we got ourselves here, so we’ll find a way to leave...’

He tried to stay calm, but he was filled with a terrible anxiety.

‘I understand your disbelief, my friends,’ Tolgom went on, ‘and first of all I must tell you that hundreds of sailors felt the same dismay on hearing those unbelievable words. But look at them after a few years: they’re the happiest of men, they have wives and children and...’

‘But that’s not what it’s about!’ raged Bastibalagom. ‘Tell us why it is supposedly impossible to leave this island! Has anyone even tried?’

‘Alas, those who have tried are no longer of this world,’ sighed Tolgom, ‘but allow me instead to explain... Naturally you admired the rainbow that greets new arrivals to our Island-That-Isn’t. It is one of the most beautiful sights that humans can set eyes upon, is it not? Well, that same rainbow forms as soon as a ship, a sailing boat, a rowing boat or even a raft moves away from the island and reaches the open sea. But when the vessel reaches it and is about to sail underneath, that magnificent rainbow turns black. There is no more terrifying sight than a black rainbow, I assure you. Then a thick mist rises, and nothing more happens. At least nothing that we can see from our island. One thing is certain: the vessel, big or small, ends up foundering and sinking to the bottom of the ocean. And it’s been like this ever since all the babies were born as girls. It is a great mystery. Believe me, you’d do better to resign yourselves to learning to live here. You’ll see: there’s no milder climate than ours, we lack for nothing, we breed sheep and cows, the earth is fertile, and we grow every kind of...’

Tolgom carried on talking about his island, but Tomek and Bastibalagom had long since stopped listening.

*

In the late afternoon, they went for a walk. Tolgom took his two guests up to the top of the hill, and from there they could see that the Island-That-Isn’t was indeed very small. It was dizzying to see how tiny it was surrounded by such immenseness. Tomek struggled to look pleased, but the idea of having to stay on this little patch of land for ever made him feel almost sick. And the beauty of the landscape made no difference.

His thoughts constantly returned to Hannah. How could he enjoy a future without the hope of seeing her again?

And Isham, to whom he’d promised he would return one day? And the water of the River Qjar that he meant to bring back for him?

That night, he found it impossible to get to sleep. He could hear Bastibalagom tossing and turning in the bedroom next door. He couldn’t sleep either, and nor could the other sailors. In the space of a few hours, they had experienced so many powerful emotions! First of all terror at the sight of the deadly rainbow, then awe at its beauty, then the joy of being rescued, and the even greater joy at finding their loved ones alive, having given them up for dead long ago. And lastly, the terrible and unbelievable news that they were to stay for ever on this Island-That-Isn’t. They couldn’t decide whether that was wonderful, horrifying or both.

Tomek woke up in the middle of the night. He’d just had a dream, and Marie was saying to him, with a big smile full of confidence: ‘Do you want to try to leave the island, Tomek? I thought as much. Since I saw you were prepared to cross the forest all by yourself, I knew you were a courageous boy capable of anything. I am sure you will succeed...’

It was barely daybreak. Everyone on the island was still asleep. Tomek reckoned that the biggest danger was certainly that of growing used to being there. A few days might be enough to accept the idea of staying, and a few weeks to become fully resigned to it. Especially if the island was as good a place to live as Tolgom claimed. No, he definitely must not wait. Or think about it.

Tomek got dressed without a sound and tiptoed out of the house. On the beach, he found a fishing boat, jumped into it and started rowing out to sea. On his bed he’d left just a brief note.

Dear Mr Bastibalagom,

I’m going to try and sail under the black rainbow. If I don’t come back, keep this bear knife as a memento of me, and try to live happily on the Island-That-Isn’t.

Tomek

He had taken only the little bottle of perfume that Pepigom had given him, and of course the pouch around his neck containing Hannah’s coin. He told himself that it was probably his lucky charm, because, after all, he hadn’t done too badly so far. The island gradually receded in the pink light of dawn, and when Tomek turned around, he saw the rainbow on the horizon. As Tolgom had described, it was no different from the one they had seen the day before. Just as brilliant, just as majestic. Tomek rowed for a good twenty minutes or so before the colours began to fade. There was still time to change his mind. Nothing was stopping him.

Turn back, Tomek, a voice inside him said. Go back to the port and put this boat back where you found it, go home to Tolgom, snuggle up in your warm bed and don’t tell anyone about your crazy venture.

But his arms continued rowing and he stayed on course. ‘Oh Lord, please help me,’ he groaned when the rainbow turned a muddy grey and then black. It was even more terrifying than he had imagined. He stopped rowing and let the boat drift for a few seconds. The water became still and black, like that of a dead lake. He dipped his fingers in. It was freezing. The thought of diving into it was unbearable. A greyish mist rose. He waited in the silence, and just when he was about to continue rowing towards the rainbow, he heard a rhythmic creaking. It sounded like a wheelbarrow in need of a drop of oil, or rather a... Tomek recognised that sound, but he couldn’t name it. All of a sudden, he was able to make out a shape moving above him and he knew immediately what it was: a swing...

Suspended from the rainbow was a giant swing whose iron hooks squeaked horribly. The only sound to be heard was the regular squeaking of the swing in the mist. All life had stopped. Tomek wondered whether his own blood was still flowing. He shivered because a damp cold had descended over the water. He was tempted to row, to warm himself up a little, but the boat didn’t move forward an inch. It was just then that he saw a creature sitting on the swing. He had never imagined such a hideous being could exist. The woman must have been more than a hundred and fifty years old. She was extremely thin – her arms and legs were nothing but bones with flabby strips of milky skin hanging from them.

‘Hello, boy,’ she croaked, her wild eyes boring into Tomek. ‘Have you come to answer the question?’

What question? wondered Tomek, but he was speechless.

The old woman thrust out her skinny legs to make the swing go higher. She was completely naked except for a pair of white socks and girl’s shoes on her feet. Her long, bony fingers seemed to have been gripping the ropes for so long that her black nails were embedded in her wrists and poking through them. She smiled as she swayed to and fro, but she never took her eagle eyes off Tomek.

‘I’m going to ask you the question I asked the others,’ she went on. ‘And like the others, you won’t be able to answer it, Tomek. You see, I know your name, and you’ll soon be joining those who’ve drowned before you, your white belly bloated like theirs, at the very, very, very, very bottom of the ocean. Think carefully about it, Tomek: the water is dark and freezing and you will sink slowly, slowly, slowly, slowly, Tomek, my angel, my poppet, my little sunshine, my—’

‘Shut up!’ yelled Tomek. ‘You have no right to say that! Shut up!’

How could this witch know that that was what Tomek’s mother had called him when he was a tiny child: my little sunshine, my poppet...? He’d forgotten it himself, but now that she was saying those words, it all came back to him and he couldn’t bear it.

‘Mama!’ he shouted. ‘Help!’

And as the old woman guffawed at his misery, he yelled again and again: ‘Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!’

Then calm and silence were restored. Again the only sound was the regular squeaking of the swing. The old lady was in no hurry to get it over with, so it seemed.

‘What if I answer the question?’ asked Tomek eventually.

The swing stopped in mid-air, at an impossible oblique angle, and the old woman whispered, ‘If you answer it correctly, my sunshine, you will pass under the black rainbow. You will be the first, and after you, everyone will be able to pass as they please, and I will vanish for ever... That is what will happen if you answer correctly. But if you don’t, my poppet...’

‘Go ahead,’ said Tomek, trembling with fear and with cold. ‘Ask me.’

The old woman kicked the swing into motion again, flew back and forth a dozen times and froze once more. In a strange, metallic voice, she said: ‘We are sisters, as delicate as the wings of a butterfly, but we can make the world disappear. Who are we?’

There was a long silence. The old woman remained suspended in mid-air.

‘Would you like me to repeat the question, little sunshine?’

‘No,’ snapped Tomek, who had heard perfectly well.

‘Then I’m going to swing back and forth fifty times while you think of the answer...’

Then she thrust out her legs and the squeaking began again.

‘We are sisters... as delicate...’ murmured Tomek, but his mind was blank.

His thoughts drifted, randomly, making no sense.

‘Will it bother you if I sing?’ sniggered the witch, and without waiting for a reply, she started humming nursery rhymes.

She seemed to know every verse that had frightened Tomek when he was little, or that had made him laugh. She knew everything about him.

‘We are sisters... we can make the world disappear...’ repeated Tomek over and over again.

Gradually he began to despair.

‘Twenty-two... twenty-three...’ croaked the witch.

Just then, Tomek felt the boat rock beneath him, or rather sink down slightly into the water. Enraged, he wanted to grab the oars and throw them in the old crone’s face, but it was if they were welded to the boat and he couldn’t lift them. He kept trying frantically, but to no avail.

‘Well, my little sunshine, are you angry?’ grimaced the witch.

Then the dark, freezing water began to seep into the boat and weigh it down. Tomek tried to scoop it out with his hands, but it was a waste of effort.

‘Forty-eight, little sunshine, forty-eight and a half...’

Tomek knew then that it was over, that he was going to be swallowed up like the others, that he had to accept it. He wouldn’t shout for help. He would not beg this hideous creature. He would just close his eyes so as not to see her any longer... to make her disappear... disappear... He jumped so violently that he nearly fell into the water. He knew at once that he’d found the answer! That the answer had just been given to him. That was it, of course! You just had to close your eyes... your two eyelids, eyelid sisters! As delicate as butterfly wings... and the whole world would disappear!

The water was up to his chest when he yelled with all his remaining strength: ‘EYELIDS! EYELIDS!!!’

The witch froze at once. Tomek expected her to howl and spit, but no, on the contrary, she was quiet. Her face was peaceful, and her eyes slowly closed. Then, within a few seconds, she completed her transformation and soon all that could be seen on the swing was the graceful body of a little girl in a light dress.

‘On a swing we will fly... over the rainbow sky...’ sang the little girl, thrusting her legs forward.

The water had turned blue again and was lapping around the boat. The rainbow grew pale and gradually regained its colours. Meanwhile, the little girl was swinging so high that her feet seemed to touch the sky. Finally, with a peal of laughter, she took off from the swing and flew off with the grace of a bird.

Tomek seized the oars and dipped them in the water. This time that boat responded perfectly. Tomek rowed manically.

‘I did it! I did it!’ he shouted at the top of his voice.

Above his head was a cascade of colours. A thousand harps played for him. In the distance, the little Island-That-Isn’t was just beginning to stir.