Until I Find You

The personalized Rose of Jericho that Torsten Lindberg had selected might be a three-day job--given his limited availability. The outlining would take nearly four hours; perhaps the shading of the cleverly concealed labia would require a fourth day.

It was unfortunate that Jack's mother didn't let him take a close look at the finished tattoo, for had the boy seen what Lindberg meant by a personalized version of Alice's Rose of Jericho, he might have realized that there were other things that were not as they seemed.

Lake Malaren is a large freshwater lake that discharges itself into the Baltic Sea right next to the Old Town at a place called Slussen. When it doesn't snow too much, the lake is perfect for skating. Despite his experience with the thin ice on the Kastelsgraven, Jack had no fear of falling into Lake Malaren. He knew that if the ice could support Agneta, it could easily hold him. And when they skated, she often took his hand in hers--as assertively as Lottie had. While Jack learned how to stop and to turn, and even how to skate backward, Alice completed the Rose of Jericho on Torsten Lindberg's right shoulder blade. It was the shoulder that he turned toward his wife when they were sleeping, Jack's mom told him. When Agneta opened her eyes upon her husband in the morning, there would be a vagina hiding in a flower. When he was older, Jack would wonder why a woman would want to wake up to that--but tattoos were not for everybody. Without the Torsten Lindbergs of this world, Jack's mother wouldn't have become such a successful Daughter Alice.

When Mr. Lindberg's Rose of Jericho was finished, he took Jack and Alice to meet Doc Forest. Where Doc lived was no place special, but for the walls of flash in the small room where he'd set up his tattoo practice. Alice much admired Doc. He was a compact man with forearms like Popeye's, a neatly trimmed mustache, and long sideburns. He was sandy-haired with bright, twinkling eyes, and he had indeed been a sailor. He'd gotten his first tattoo in Amsterdam from Tattoo Peter.

Doc regretted that he couldn't hire Alice as his apprentice, but it wasn't easy for him to find enough work to support himself; in fact, he was looking for a benefactor, someone to help him finance a first shop.

As for The Music Man--because, of course, William Burns had found Doc Forest--this time it had been either an aria quarta or a toccata by Pachelbel, Jack's mom told him. She mentioned a Swedish movie that had made some piece by Pachelbel famous. "Or maybe that was Mozart," Alice added. Jack wasn't sure if she meant the music in the Swedish movie or his dad's tattoo. But the boy was badly distracted by a snake. (An entire wall of flash was devoted to snakes and sea serpents, and other monsters of the deep.)

"I don't suppose you have any idea where William might have gone," Alice said to Doc Forest. She'd outworn her welcome at the Grand, or maybe the manager of the Grand had outworn his welcome with her.

"He's in Oslo, I think," Doc Forest said.

"Oslo!" Alice cried. There was more despair in her voice than before. "There can't be anyone tattooing in Oslo."

"If there is, he's doing it out of his home, like me," Doc replied.

"Oslo," Jack's mom said, more quietly this time. Like Stockholm, Oslo wasn't on their itinerary.

"There's an organ there," Doc added. "An old one--that's what he said."

Of course there was an organ in Oslo! And if there was anyone, good or bad, tattooing there--even if only in his home--William would find him.

"Did he mention which church?" Alice asked.

"Just the organ--he said it had a hundred and two stops," Doc Forest told her.

"Well, that shouldn't be too hard to find," Alice said, more to herself than to Doc or Jack.

A theme was emerging from the wall of flash, and the boy had almost grasped it--something having to do with snakes wrapped around swords.

"You should stay at the Bristol, Alice," Torsten Lindberg was saying. "You won't get as many clients as you got at the Grand, but at least the manager isn't onto you."

Years later, Jack would consider all that Lindberg might have meant by "onto you." But Alice made no response, other than to thank the accountant; naturally, she thanked Doc Forest, too.

Doc picked Jack up in his strong arms and whispered, "Come back and see me when you're older. Maybe then you'll want a tattoo."

Jack had loved the lobby of the Grand, and waking in the morning to the ships' horns--the commuter traffic from the archipelago. He'd enjoyed skating on Lake Malaren with Agneta Nilsson, the formidable Mrs. Lindberg. Aside from the darkness, he would have been content to stay in Stockholm, but he and his mom were on the move again.

They traveled by train to Goteborg, then by ship to Oslo. Much of this journey must have been beautiful, but all the boy would remember was how dark it was--and how he felt cold. After all, it was still January and they were way up north.

Given all their tattoo paraphernalia, they had a lot of luggage. Upon their arrival anywhere, they never looked as if they were visiting for a short time. At the Hotel Bristol, the front-desk clerk must have thought they'd come for an extended stay.

"Not your most expensive room," Alice informed the clerk, "but something nice--not too claustrophobic."

They would be needing a hand with their bags, the clerk was smart enough to observe; he called for a bellboy and gave Jack a friendly handshake, but the handshake hurt the boy's fingers. Jack had never met a Norwegian before.

The Bristol's lobby was not so grand as the Grand's. Jack hoped he wouldn't have to get used to it. It didn't matter to him that the organ was an old one; for all he cared, the stupid organ could have had two hundred and two stops.

So far, Jack and his mom were indebted to three tattooers, two organists, a small soldier, and a tattooed accountant. In whose debt would they be next? the boy wondered, as they followed the bellboy and their luggage down a dark, carpeted hall.

Their hotel room at the Bristol was small and airless. When they checked in, it was already dark outside--it almost always was--and the view from their room was of another building. (There were some dimly lit rooms with their curtains closed, which spoke to Alice of dull, silent lives--not the life she had once imagined with William, anyway.)

They'd not eaten since their last breakfast at the Grand. The bellboy told them that the Bristol's restaurant was still serving, but he urged them not to dally. Jack's mother had forewarned her son that the restaurant was no doubt expensive and they should order sparingly.

Jack didn't much care for the bellboy's suggestions. "You must try the cloudberries," he said, "and of course the reindeer tongue."