Disclaimer: I do not own anything but my life.
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Chapter 1: Norwegian.
Whether what led me that day to pay attention to that voice was fate, the recognition of my native language, or how that girl was shouting even with the mask on, I will probably never know, but I wonder what would have happened to my life if I wouldn't have gotten caught up in that tireless protest.
It was a mid-March afternoon of a year that many will never forget. I was coming back from doing the last shopping to stay locked up at home for what they said would be two weeks. Personally, it seemed like a short time to control the situation, but everyone knows that the government of the country in which I reside tends to take half measures and at the wrong time, so it was nothing to be surprised about.
Then, when I was about to reach the small ground floor where I had living for rent for about four years, I could hear on the opposite sidewalk how a young woman was shouting explanations on the phone to someone who probably had hearing problems; in any case, if that person didn't have them yet, would have them from that moment on.
I'm not used to looking at people a lot on the street, I'm not particularly observant and I'm not interested in the privacy of others, but, the moment I realized that the language in which the girl was ranting was Norwegian, everything changed. I turned quickly in the direction of the voice and was pinned to the spot. It's unusual to hear my language here.
"He told me that I can't go home, that the borders are closed, and that if I can't find someone to stay with, they'll look for a shelter for me; he said hotels are reserved to bring in more patients, and that if I wanted to return, I would've been more aware of the news, that I can't go around the world like that. Can you believe it?! And that is what says the one who has had to go to look in the search engine's translator how to tell me all this in English! In English!"
From what I could see it was a very young girl, probably not in her twenties. She was a redhead with light eyes, although in the distance I couldn't decipher its color, average height, and a rather thin complexion. She stomped furiously while listened what her interlocutor was answering. She was dragging a light suitcase and wearing seemingly comfortable casual clothing and a shoddy mask, probably got from some bazaar at the last minute.
"I don't know! I told him that I would go with the friend I have been with." […] "And what do I know?! I made it up to make him leave me alone! Well, I'll call you with whatever I do." […] "Yes…" […] "Yes…" […] "Ok, see you."
Apparently, the aimless gait that could be sensed in her was not just appearance.
For a few seconds, I debated between pity and shame, but I wouldn't have been reassured if I hadn't tried to help. I crossed the street and approached her, who was staring at the map of the area on her cell phone like waiting for it to give her a magic solution.
"Errr… excuse me," I said in Norwegian to make sure she could understand me.
"Norwegian! Are you trapped too? They don't let you go home either?"
"On the contrary, they just let me go home," I joked, trying to make her relax a bit, but the joke didn't seem to her liking.
"What do you want?"
"Um… I wouldn't want to get into your business, but I heard what you were saying on the phone and it seemed to me that you were in trouble."
"And have you come to save me? Do you have a house and supplies to leave me until they get bored of being locked up?"
"Well… not exactly. I'm renting a ground floor and I have provisions for myself, but I thought you would prefer to come with me until this ends instead of staying on the street or in a hostel where no one understands you."
"Of course! Right now I'm running to get into the house of a complete stranger to let him make me who-knows-what!"
"If you put it this way… You're right, sorry. Good luck."
I turned around and started to cross the sidewalk on my way home, but her shouts stopped me again.
"Really?! Are you gonna leave me alone?!"
"I thought it was what you wanted? Not the modes, but your arguments have seemed quite sensible to me."
"Maybe I've spoken a little badly to you, haven't I?"
"May be."
"I'm sorry, I'm upset and lost and you understood me enough to be able to take it out on you."
"You just got on the phone with someone who understood you, right?"
"Yeah, but that was my sister Elsa. Never anger her! Seriously!"
"Okay," I laughed. "I don't think I have the chance, though. I am Kristoff."
I held out my hand as a peace offering.
"Anna," she said accepting my hand and shaking it energetically. "Wow! You have such a huge hand!"
"Hey, Anna," I changed the subject not knowing quite what to answer to the matter of the hands. "I know you have no reason to trust me, but staying on the street as things as they are, doesn't seem very safe. I suppose this is exactly what a psychopath would say, but… I promise you that I won't hurt you; I just want to help. The biggest danger you run with me is that I won't let you sleep with my snoring."
"Hey! And what makes you think that I'm not the dangerous one? What if I'm crazy and I kill you in your sleep?"
"Well, I'll tell you that with the yelling you were giving until a moment ago, it wouldn't surprise me much either, but Sven wouldn't let you."
"Sven?"
"My dog. He has good hearing, good eyesight, good smell, and is very intuitive. If you are a murderer he will tell me as soon as he smells you."
"A dog?! Which breed is it?!"
"Mishmash."
"What?"
"He's a mongrel. He's big, brown, and hairy. A nice guy."
"Aw… how I'd like to meet him…"
"So, now what? Can I go home before I get a fine for skipping lockdown?"
"Ok. I want one photo of you and your personal data."
"Excuse me?"
"I'll send them to my sister, and if you murder me, at least later justice would be done."
"I don't think there can be justice in a murder."
"Well, you know, they would find you, put you in jail, and then my sister would kidnap and torture you until you begged her to kill you."
"Yuh-huh… And, then?"
"Then she would continue to torture you, of course."
"I get it."
Wondering if I was the one who had gone crazy for getting into that mess, I took out my wallet and left her my ID so that she could photograph it as much as she wanted.
"Oh, my God! Why nobody looks good in the passport photos?"
"Yep. Not my best photo."
"Sent! Let me call Elsa again."
"Go ahead."
"Sis, have you seen what I've just sent you?" […] "No, I didn't find it on the ground." […] "Yes, he's handsome, right? Well, you should see him in person. And he is huge!"
Completely red, I cleared my throat to remind her that I was still right next to her, but she seemed to be more amused than anything else.
"Yeah, I'm going to stay with him." […] "No, he's not dangerous." […] "No, I don't know him." […] "You know I have a good nose for recognizing good people." […] "Hans was just a rookie's mistake; it won't happen to me again." […] "Okay, I'll put you on with him."
"What?!"
"My sister wants to talk to you."
For some reason, my stomach knotted, but it seemed reasonable to me that she wanted to know a little bit about the person her sister was going to stay with.
"I just want you to know one thing," she said without even the slightest attempt at a greeting, "there is no place in the world where you can hide from me if you hurt my sister. Is it clear to you?"
"Crystal clear," I replied, evidently intimidated by the icy tone of that Elsa woman.
"Fine. Good luck."
And, without saying goodbye to his very sister, she hung up and left me practically paralyzed.
"Let's go?" Anna said then as if all of this wasn't with her.
"What is your sister? Some kind of mobster or something?"
"Worse. She's the Snow Queen.
It wasn't necessary to ask more; that voice made the reason for her nickname more than clear. I was glad that I didn't have to deal with her in person, but a doubt assailed me relentlessly: did she wish me luck not to provoke her anger, or did she wish me luck with her sister? How hard to carry was she? What had I gotten myself into?