When the Devil Holds the Candle Read Free Page A

good money, right?"
    "My grandfather gave it to me," the boy muttered.
    "If you were a size bigger, I'd swipe it from you," the man said, laughing. "But it'd be a bit tight on me."
    The boy didn't reply, just kept his eyes firmly fixed on the tips of his shoes.
    "I'm only kidding," the man went on. "Just wanted to ask for directions. To the bowling alley."
    The boy risked a glance. "It's over there. You can see the sign," he told him.
    "Oh, yeah. I was only kidding, as I said."
    He gave a low, ingratiating laugh and stuck his head all the way out of the window.
    "Want a lift home?"
    The boy shook his head vigorously. He could see a doorway up ahead.
    "I live over there," he lied.
    "Is that right?" The man was laughing hard. "What's your name?"
    The boy didn't answer. He had said his name often enough to know what the reaction would be.
    "Is it a secret?"
    "No."
    "Well, then, what is it, boy!"
    "Matteus," he whispered.
    Dead silence. The man in the car looked at his companion.
    "What the hell," he shouted. "That's really cool! Is it really Matteus? The Gospels and all that shit?"
    He clucked his tongue. "Where are you from?"
    Smiling, he looked at the black curls and brown cheeks. For a moment there was a flash of yearning in his eyes that the boy couldn't possibly see.
    "Right over there," he said, pointing.
    "No, I mean what country are you from? You're adopted, aren't you?"
    "Give it up, Andreas," Zipp groaned. "Leave him be."
    "Somalia," the boy said.
    "Why didn't they give you a Norwegian name like other children who are adopted? Not that it matters." He tossed his head. "I feel a little faint every time I meet black or Chinese children named Petter and Kåre. Shit, it's really starting to get to me."
    He laughed out loud, revealing a row of sharp, white teeth. Matteus pressed his lips together. His name had been Matteus when they found him, the people he called his mother and father, at an orphanage in Mogadishu. They hadn't wanted to change it, but sometimes he wished that they had. Now he just stared at the doorway up ahead, clutching his bag of sweets in a brown fist and casting a glance at the car. Then he turned and took a few steps up the gravel path toward the house that wasn't his at all. He saw a rack holding rubbish bins. He slipped behind them and crouched down. A nauseating, rotting smell came from the rubbish. The car accelerated away and disappeared. When he thought they were out of sight, he crawled out and continued on his way. He was walking faster now. His heart, which had been pounding, began to calm down. The incident had made his stomach churn, giving him a vague presentiment of what awaited him in his future. A car was coming down the street. For an awful moment he thought they might have turned around and come back. They realized that he didn't live here, and they had come to get him! His heart was pounding hard again as he heard the car approach. It stopped on the other side of the street.
    "Hey, Matteus! You off out again? You sure do get around, Pops!"
    Matteus ran. The men laughed and the engine started up. The car disappeared, headed into town. It was 6:15 when he reached his front door.
    ***
    Zipp and Andreas supposed that they knew each other pretty well. In fact, they were aware of little, insignificant things, such as one another's likes and dislikes, and something about how each functioned in the world. Apart from that, each was too preoccupied with himself to look to the other for anything new. Zipp knew that Andreas's preferred brand of beer had a blue cap. That he liked the Doors and didn't like mustard on his sausages. And that no girl was ever good enough for him. This was something that Zipp couldn't understand. The girls were always giving him the once-over. Andreas is too good-looking, Zipp thought. His looks gave him an indolent, sauntering look that occasionally irritated Zipp. There was something intractable about Andreas, something invulnerable and sluggish that almost made you