The Land of Dreams

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270 28 it wasn’t yet ten o’clock when Lance turned the key in the ignition and started the Jeep in the parking lot behind Lakeview Nursing Home. Inga was sitting next to him, holding her purse on her lap. She’d dabbed on some perfume. “All right, let’s go,” he said. “What do you think about this weather?” It was a fine, dry day with high clouds, but on the other side of the lake, a big gray bank of clouds was hovering over Wisconsin, threatening rain. “You brought the umbrellas, didn’t you?” said Inga. “Sure did. They’re on the backseat.” “So there’s no need to worry about the weather.” “No, I guess not.” They entered Highway  and began heading north. Lance was glad his mother didn’t know about everything that was now tormenting him, from the moment he woke up each morning until he fell asleep at night. The only thing she knew was that a Norwegian tourist had been killed near Baraga’s Cross more than three weeks ago. And that Lance, her older son, had found the victim . Later a young man had been arrested for the murder. She probably wasn’t thinking about it anymore. It had nothing to do with her. “All weather is nice weather,” she said. “Sure. You’re right.” He cast a quick glance at the spry old woman in the passenger seat. He thought he’d begun to notice something vulnerable about THE LAND OF DREAMS 271 her in the past few years. Was it because Oscar was no longer here? In a sense she had been left all alone when he died. “What is it?” said Inga. She had caught him looking at her. “Nothing. Just wondering how you’re doing. That’s all.” “I haven’t felt this good in a long time.” It would kill her if Andy was arrested and charged with murder , he thought. It’s that simple. I can’t kill my own mother. Then he remembered that Lenny Diver also had a mother. So Lenny was not the only one who was going to pay for Andy’s crime. His mother would be subjected to the pain that Inga would be spared. She was living with that pain right now. Every second of the day. And it was Lance who had decided on this. He was the only one who knew, so he was also the only one who could put an end to it. After Lenny was arrested, it no longer mattered that Andy and the two Norwegians had been seen together at Our Place. Nobody was asking anymore, who killed Georg Lofthus? This applied both to Ben Harvey and to any customers who might have recognized Andy on that evening. Our Place was no longer a blind spot for Lance. There were no blind spots. The situation was simple and clear. All he had to do was keep his mouth shut. “What about you, my boy? How are you doing?” asked Inga. “Great,” he said. They passed the big white fiberglass rooster with the bright red comb and shiny yellow feet. Then the giant frontiersman who was leaning on a canoe paddle. “Well, it certainly has been a long time,” said Inga, as if she were greeting someone she hadn’t seen in ages. “Two Harbors . . . turn right here.” He turned right onto Waterfront Drive, headed across Skunk Creek, and drove up onto the small hill with a view all the way down to the harbor, with its big, rusty shipping docks for taconite. On the right was the Lutheran church, built of dark, unhewn stone with a big gray cross on the roof. A seagull was perched on top of the cross. “I think that seagull has been sitting there for almost fifty years,” said Inga, pointing. “There was always a gull up there when we lived here.” Lance slowly drove along Waterfront Drive, past the library and the resplendent courthouse with its striking dome. “That’s where a concert was held every Thursday evening in Vidar Sundstøl 272 the summer.” His mother pointed at the little music pavilion in the park. “Everyone went to it. There wasn’t much entertainment available back then, you know. I remember we’d sit there on little folding chairs we brought along, enjoying the summer evening.” There was also a cannon in the park...