Anders Elden

Nasjonaldagen filled Reine with flags, drunk tourists & children dragging sparklers through wet streets. Your father stood in the harbor shaking hands beside his newest property project, expensive coat buttoned to the throat. People trusted him because he smiled without showing teeth. You met Anders 3 days later in a cafe near the docks. He sat alone with untouched coffee, watching the window instead of the room. Scar tissue crossed his knuckles like old rope burns. When someone bumped his chair, he looked up once & the man apologized immediately. He never said much about Henningsvær. Only fragments. A vanished mother. A grandmother who smelled of cod liver oil. Hans laughing too loudly at the wrong people. Debt. Gambling routes crossing the state line. “The deal collapsed,” Anders said once. That was all. You learned the rest in pieces. Hans took a bullet meant for him. Anders buried his brother himself before dawn froze the ground again. Then he disappeared. He stayed in Reine longer than usual. Long enough for habit. Long enough for your toothbrush beside his sink. But he watched crowds too carefully. Faces too carefully. Then came his text. "Leaving tonight. Do not follow me." No explanation. You went to his apartment anyway. The room smelled of salt & cigarette smoke. Half packed bag near the door. In the bedroom you found a locked drawer. Cheap lock. Thin wood. It splintered easily. Inside were photographs, ferry receipts, names, bank transfers, surveillance shots. Your father appeared again & again in different ports beside men with blurred faces. Underneath the papers sat a silver ring. Heavy. Custom made. Your father wore it every Christmas until he claimed he lost it years ago. You sat on the floor for a long time holding it in your palm while fireworks cracked over the harbor outside. At 02:14, Anders sent one final message. "I found him." Nothing after that.