I Travel Alone Page #4

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a target group for your paper in...

But... Daddy?

I need to go to the toilet.

But if you get it published,

we have to celebrate.

She's been gone for ages.

Lotte?

Lotte, open up.

Come out, Lotte.

Lotte?

Lotte!

Attention all passengers:

The train to Oslo is expected

to arrive on Track 2 shortly.

There you are, Lotte. I've been

searching for you all over town.

Go away, daddy.

- Stop kidding.

- You don't want me here.

Just go home. I'll go home as well.

- Hey...

I'm not kidding!

No, no! I don't want to!

No! I don't want to!

- I don't want to!

- Stop it.

- No! I don't want to!

- Stop it!

- Come on.

- Let go of me!

- No, I don't want to!

- Let go.

You're at home now.

Stop misbehaving!

What on earth is going on?

My little darling. Don't cry.

Want to join me, Lotte?

Pretty big puzzle.

Where do you think that piece fits?

There. You saw it immediately.

And there...

There's a whole lot of green here.

I have a friend called Kathrine.

She...

Her parents are divorced.

And I think mom and dad

might be getting divorced.

Okay.

That one goes there.

Not bad.

- You've got far.

- Yeah. We work together.

I don't know if I'm any good at this.

Like this one. Where does it go?

- Right.

- Know what I used to sing for dad?

- What?

- At bedtime, I'd sing:

"I know a wondrous garden,

where pretty roses burst. "

"God made it as a present" -

- "for every child on earth. "

- He was just like you are.

- He was?

Anybody want rolls?

Yes please.

Hey? I'm sorry.

I was so worried about you.

But you were stupid.

- Really stupid.

- Stupid as sh*t.

Yeah. I just can't finish

my stupid article -

- for the Morning Post.

- You know what day it is tomorrow?

- No.

You do.

I've got a surprise for you.

Promise you won't tell anyone.

Or nag about what it is.

Hi, Jarle.

- It's been a while.

- What...

- So it's you?

- Yeah.

Well, we're laying a jigsaw puzzle.

- May I come in?

- Come in.

Where is she? How did it go?

Hey...

Darling.

Like...

I've been worried sick about you.

I've tried to call you

a thousand times.

I had to get back

in time for your birthday.

Go away. I don't want you here.

Lotte?

Darling.

Hey?

You're not mad cause mom's here?

Want more stories about the princess

who didn't want to be a princess?

I want mommy to come.

Anette, she...

What shall we do, Jarle?

- I mean, is she on drugs?

- Mother...

What do you do? Should we

contact the child welfare services?

Well, I really mean it.

You know how unhappy she's been?

You could have asked for help before.

Seven years you kept her from us.

I'm sorry. My marriage fell apart.

I didn't know what to do.

So that's your excuse for sending

her off to a complete stranger?

- I had to send Lotte away.

- Why didn't you say anything?

It's been seven years!

Excuse me, but you have no idea.

I was fifteen.

I woke up. Jarle was gone.

Would he have kept the child?

Of course he'd have kept the child.

What do you think?

Wouldn't you, Jarle?

- Hi.

- May I come in?

This isn't a good time.

Are you busy?

Hey, Jarle? I've been thinking...

Jarle? Have you seen my bag?

- Yeah, it's here.

- Sorry.

No problem. This is Herdis.

This is... Lotte's mom.

Herdis is one of my friends

from the university.

Cool. I'll go and check on Lotte.

Okay.

Herdis? Herdis!

We're having a birthday party

tomorrow. For Lotte.

- And?

- I'd really like you to come.

Deep in the forest,

in a glen between tall trees, -

- there was a big, black,

horrible... Humpelfinkel!

- Humpelfinkel isn't that scary.

- No.

Everyone who'd seen Humpelfinkel so

far had been so scared, their eyes -

- rolled all the way down

to their toes!

- Yes.

- That's funny.

But the princess didn't

think he was scary at all.

She played with him all evening.

She even let him borrow her crown!

A real princess.

Lotte?

Forgive me.

I don't know, Lotte.

I just wanted to fetch Humpelfinkel.

He's lying there.

What are you writing, anyway?

I'm trying to describe what's

so great about Marcel Proust.

Why not just write

that he's your friend?

Sure.

That's what I'm trying to do,

but it sounds silly.

It's the Morning Post, you know.

They only publish the very best.

Are you scared of the Morning Post?

Mom says that

as long as I'm myself, -

- nobody can tell me I'm stupid.

She's right.

- You think I should just send it now?

- Yes.

Come here. You do it.

I think I'm a bit too scared.

Up there. That's it. Right.

There.

Now hurry off to bed.

Good night!

- Hi.

- Hi! How good to see you.

- Likewise.

- Have you been out jogging?

Congratulations. She's really sweet.

Hi, Jarle. Sorry I slapped you.

- I'm really a pacifist.

- No problem.

But you have to realize -

- that you can't hand your child to a

stranger the day after she arrives.

Then get drunk, fight with

your ex and turn up like that.

- It won't do.

- No, you're right.

Well, I didn't know what to come

up with. I was completely blank.

Then I came home one evening,

and found a book by Bakhtin.

- Really?

- Yeah. Have you heard about him?

The guy with the polyphonic novel.

Polyphony, right?

Know what "poly" means?

It means "several". Like in music.

- Poly means several, mono...

- I know. Mono.

- One.

- Mom?

Leaving her to go get drunk

the day she arrived...

- Well...

- How could you?

Isn't a carnival a good idea?

Bakhtin...

You think I could have done

such a thing to you?

Right, but it was thanks

to Bakhtin that I cooked it up.

He demonstrated how

the carnival is liberating.

It exults the low

and dethrones the high.

Perfectly ordinary people

hold birthday parties for their kids.

They don't need to study philosophy

to dress up and amuse them.

- Look at this.

- They've never heard about Bakhtin.

Jarle...

Happy birthday!

Happy birthday.

It's beautiful!

Thanks a lot!

- Even more guests?

- See who it is.

- Hello.

- What are you dressed up as?

Well, I don't know...

- You don't know?

- I found this wig...

You're the world's

greatest sorcerers.

This is mind-bogglingly pathetic.

- It is.

- What's wrong with my costume?

Look who's here!

Very well.

This must be the mother.

Oh, what lineage.

Mother, mom, mother of all things,

earth mother, Moomin mother...

Hi, I'm Robert Gothenburg.

If I may? Your son.

He's a rabid hound.

- But brilliant.

- Thanks.

Grete Strandvang. I've taken a dip

in the Sea of Eros myself at times.

We met in the stairs.

I'd cleaned them, you see.

- Oops, sorry.

- Yeah, but...

Anette, over here!

wherever you are!

- Hush.

- Great spot.

Hey, sorry about yesterday.

I must be the worst mother ever.

No, I'm the one

who should apologize.

You call that hiding?

I haven't been on any vacation.

- But you probably figured that out?

- Yeah. Hush.

Hey, let's forget about all that

and be mature about it.

Yeah.

- And this is from uncle Hasse.

- You know what?

I think we have to wait a minute

before... because... Jesus.

I feel I have to say a few words.

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