Moominvalley in November (18 page)

CHAPTER 20
Going Home

THE
valley seemed even more silent after Grandpa-Grumble had gone into hibernation. Now and then the sound of the Hemulen hammering away up in the maple-tree could be heard. Sometimes he was chopping wood outside the woodshed. Otherwise everything was quiet. They said 'Hallo' and 'Good morning' to each other but they didn't feel like talking. They were waiting for their story to come to an end.

From time to time one of them went into the pantry to get something to eat. The coffee-pot stood on the stove all day keeping warm.

Actually, the silence in the valley was very beautiful, and restful, too, and they got used to each other much better by not meeting so often. The crystal ball was completely empty, and ready to be filled up by whatever might come. It got colder and colder all the time.

One morning something happened. The floor of the tree-house fell out with a crash and the maple-tree looked exactly as it had done before the Hemulen had started building.

'That's funny,' said the Hemulen. 'I've got that feeling again - that the same sort of thing happens the whole time.'

All three of them stood under the tree and looked at what had happened.

'Perhaps,' Toft said shyly, 'perhaps Moominpappa would prefer to sit in the tree just as it is.'

'I think you've got something there,' the Hemulen admitted. 'More his cup of tea, what? Of course, I could knock a nail in for the lamp, but it would seem more natural if it hung on a branch.'

They went inside to have coffee, and this time they drank it together and had saucers as well as cups.

'Imagine us being brought together by an accident,' the Hemulen said gravely and stirred his coffee. 'And what shall we do now?'

'Wait,'said Toft.

'Of course,' said the Hemulen, 'but what about me? All you need to do is wait until they get back, but it's a different matter for me.'

'Why?'Toft asked.

'I don't know,' said the Hemulen.

Snufkin poured out some more coffee and said: 'The wind will get up after twelve o'clock.'

'That's the sort of thing you're always saying!' Toft burst out. 'Someone asks what he's got to do, and what will happen, and this is awful, and all you can say is that it's going to snow, or there'll be a storm or something, or do you want some more sugar...'

'You're angry again,' said the Hemulen in surprise. 'Why are you only angry at such long intervals?'

'I don't know,' Toft muttered. 'I'm not angry, it just comes over me...'

'I was thinking of the dinghy,' Snufkin explained. 'If the wind gets up after twelve o'clock, the Hemulen and I could go out for a sail.'

'The boat leaks,' the Hemulen said.

'No it doesn't,' said Snufkin. 'I've made it tight. And I found the sail in the woodshed. Do you want to come sailing?'

Toft hastily cast his eyes down at his coffee-cup, he knew that the Hemulen was scared. And the Hemulen said: 'It would be absolutely wonderful.'

*

The wind got up round half past one, not very much, but there were tiny white horses all over the sea. Snufkin had the dinghy waiting at the bathing-hut jetty, he raised the spritsail and let the Hemulen sit in the bow. It was very cold and they were wearing all the woollen things they could find. The sky was clear, with a bank of dark-blue wintry clouds over the horizon. Snufkin turned out towards the point, the dinghy heeled over and gathered speed.

'The majesty of the sea,' the Hemulen cried in a tremulous voice, his nose was pale and he stared in horror at the leeward gunwale, it was much too close to the frothing green sea. So this is how it feels, he thought. This is what sailing is like. The world turns upside down and you hang on for dear life to the edge of the yawning abyss, you freeze and feel ashamed and when it's too late you wish you'd never come. Let's hope and pray he doesn't notice how scared I am.

Just beyond the point the dinghy ran into the heavy swell from some storm out at sea. Snufkin tacked and continued farther out.

The Hemulen began to feel sick. It came slowly, treacherously, he yawned and yawned and swallowed and swallowed, and suddenly he felt weak and wretched all over his body, and a nasty sick feeling rose from his stomach. He just wanted to die.

'Now you take the rudder,' said Snufkin.

'No, no, no,' the Hemulen whispered, feebly waving his paws in protest, but the movement started more ghastly torture in his stomach and the whole of the merciless sea revolved in the other direction.

'You must take the rudder,' Snufkin repeated. He got up and scrambled across to the middle thwart. The rudder swung to and fro on its own, helplessly - someone had to catch hold of it, this was awful - the Hemulen moved astern, he stumbled and staggered over the thwarts and grabbed the rudder with his frozen paws, the sail swung wildly, it was the end of the world! And Snufkin just sat and stared at the horizon.

The Hemulen steered this way and that, the sail creaked, and water came into the dinghy, and Snufkin went on staring at the horizon. The Hemulen felt so sick that he couldn't even think, so he steered by instinct, and suddenly he could steer, the sail filled with wind and the dinghy set course along the coast in the heavy swell.

Now I won't be sick, the Hemulen thought. I'll hold on to the rudder as hard as I can and I won't be sick.

His stomach began to settle. He kept his eyes riveted on the bow, which rose up and down, and the dinghy sailed free with the wind farther and farther out to sea.

*

Toft had done the washing-up and made the Hemulen's bed. He had gathered together the floor-boards under the maple-tree and hidden them behind the woodshed. Now he was sitting at the kitchen table, listening to the wind and waiting.

At last he heard them talking in the garden, they had got back. He heard steps outside the kitchen and the Hemulen came in and said: 'Hallo.'

'Hallo,' said Toft. 'Was it blowy?'

'A strong gale,' the Hemulen answered. 'Fresh, rough weather.' He was still green in the face and so cold that he was shaking all over, he took off his boots and socks and hung them on the stove to dry. Toft poured out some coffee for him. They sat opposite each other at the table and felt embarrassed.

'I wonder,' said the Hemulen, 'I wonder whether it won't soon be about time to go home.' He sneezed, and added: 'I did the steering.'

'Perhaps you're homesick for your boat,' Toft muttered.

The Hemulen was silent for a long time. When he eventually spoke he had a look of tremendous relief on his face. 'You know what,' he said, 'I'll tell you something. It was the first time in my whole life that I have ever been out at sea.'

Toft didn't look up, and the Hemulen asked: 'Aren't you surprised?'

Toft shook his head.

The Hemulen got up and started to walk up and down the kitchen, he was very excited. 'I thought sailing was ghastly,' he said. 'I felt so sick that all I wanted to do was die, and I was scared the whole time!'

Toft looked at the Hemulen and said: 'It must have been awful.'

'It was,' the Hemulen agreed gratefully. 'But I didn't let Snufkin notice anything! He thought I was good at holding

the sail, I had the right touch. And now I know I don't have to sail. Funny, isn't it, eh? I've just realized I don't ever need to sail again.' The Hemulen raised his head and laughed heartily. He blew his nose violently in the kitchen towel and said: 'I'm warm again now. As soon as my boots and socks are dry I'm going home. I'm sure everything's in a mess there! Lots to get organized!'

'Will you do the cleaning?' Toft asked.

'Of course not!' the Hemulen exclaimed. 'I shall arrange things for other people. There aren't many people who know how they should live and can manage on their own!'

*

The bridge had always been the place for good-byes. The Hemulen's boots and socks were dry and he was ready to leave. The wind was still blowing and his thin hair was all over the place. He had caught a cold, or perhaps it was just emotion.

'Here's my poem,' said the Hemulen, giving Snufkin a piece of paper. 'I have written it out as a memento. You know, the one that starts "Where lies true lasting happiness". Bless you, and say hallo to the family for me.' He waved his paw and left.

Just as the Hemulen had crossed the bridge, Toft came running after him and asked: 'What are you going to do with your boat?'

'My boat?' the Hemulen repeated. 'Oh yes, my boat.'

He thought and then said: 'I shall wait until I meet a suitable person.'

'You mean somebody who dreams of sailing,' Toft said.

'Not at all!' the Hemulen answered. Someone who needs a boat.' He waved his paw again and disappeared among the birch-trees.

Toft heaved a sigh of relief. One more left. Soon the valley would be as empty as the crystal ball and would belong to no one except the Moomin family and Toft. He passed Snufkin and asked: 'When are you off?'

'It all depends,' Snufkin answered.

CHAPTER 21
Coming Home

TOFT
went into Moominmamma's room for the first time. It was white. He filled the water-jug and smoothed out the crocheted bedcover. He put Fillyjonk's vase on the bedside table. Moominmamma had no pictures on the walls and on the desk there was only a small dish with safety-pins, a rubber cork and two round stones. On the window-sill Toft found a clasp-knife. She forgot it, he thought. That's the one she usually makes little boats out of bark with. But perhaps she had another one with her. He pulled out the blades, the big one and the small one, they were both quite blunt and the awl was broken off. There was a tiny pair of scissors attached to the knife, but she hadn't used them much. Toft went out to the woodshed and sharpened the knife. Then he put it back on the window-sill.

The weather had suddenly become milder, and the wind changed to south-west. That's the family's wind. I know they like the wind from the south-west best, Toft thought.

A bank of clouds slowly accumulated over the sea, and the whole sky became heavy with them and it was easy to see that they were full of snow. Within a few days all the valleys would be covered with winter, they had been waiting for it for a long time, but now it was on its way.