CHAPTER 34, PART 2

  Grandma Mimi and I were set to travel along the same route that the Vikings had taken to America. We traveled by ferry to Norway, where we connected with our trans-Atlantic charter that would end in Boston. While we would not be traveling by a Viking longboat, it was still going to be an exciting trip. The ship, the SS Skuldelev, was a modest boat with far fewer travelers than I expected. It was booked mostly as a cargo ship that would take supplies to Iceland and Greenland on its path to Newfoundland in Canada and eventually to Boston.

  There were only a few like us who were adventurous and looking to retrace the steps that the ancient Vikings had taken across the Atlantic. One of those passengers was a doctor from Norway, Dr. Jonas Sundstrom. He was traveling with the remains of his father, who had died earlier that year. His dying father requested that his ashes be scattered in Newfoundland. His own father claimed to be of Viking descent and always wanted to see Newfoundland, where Leif the Lucky had traveled. Jonas was making this trip for his father as a last request.

  Jonas was about twenty-five years our senior. He was taller than I and was your typical Nordic type with blonde hair and blue eyes. His face was well weathered and dark. He had mentioned he enjoyed fishing, and I figured he had spent many a day on the sea to gain his well-worn look. I discussed my family ties in Sweden with him and told him that my great-great-grandparents had journeyed from Sweden to the United States and lived in the state of Iowa. He said we were certainly Viking brothers on this journey then.

  Mimi invited Jonas to sit with us during meals since he was alone. Besides the dozen or so other adventurers like us, the rest of the passengers were made up of students on their way to research projects in Greenland and Iceland.

  While in our cabin getting ready for dinner that first night on the boat, Mimi asked me not to tell Jonas about my search for giants. I reluctantly agreed.

  “I just want us to put this aside for this trip,” she said. “It has been a long trip. I would like to spend this time like a normal couple. It’s a small ship, Jack, and we still have a long journey home. I just want us to blend in.”

  Our long stay in Europe had definitely worn her out. She had been such a trooper with all that had happened in Europe; I decided quickly to honor her request.

  With little word from the States, we were unsure what we were going home to. Our failures in Greece had reached the university, and certainly Bayne’s own publicity and arrogance kept him in good contact with our superiors. I, on the other hand, hid from it. I was afraid and hoped that more time would solve my problems. I guess I hoped that our trips to Rome and France would produce some results.

  I hoped to call and say, “Hey, we didn’t find anything in Greece, but we did have success in Rome or France. Here is the bone we set out to find.”

  By that standard, I was coming home empty-handed. There was a little bit of shame in that. I knew Mimi was feeling that as well. After all, she had given up her teaching to come with me on this long trip. Her reputation was also at stake.

  At dinner that night on the boat, there were six of us seated together at the same table. Mimi and I, along with Jonas and a Russian couple and their college-aged son. The Russian woman asked us what we had been doing in Europe.

  Mimi quickly responded, “We were seeing the sights.”

  Jonas then asked, “Where did your travels take you?”

  Mimi again quickly replied, “All over, really. Greece, Italy, France, more recently Denmark, and, of course, Norway.”

  After that, the table conversation turned to northern European politics. Mimi and I sat and said nothing. I sat there buttering and re-buttering my dinner roll during the conversation. I was very unsure of what was fair for me to say. As it turned out, the discussion became quite heated, and it was best for us to stay out of it. The Russian couple was very persistent about their beliefs and quite argumentative. Edik and Larisa Sissoff were well versed in what they termed the patriotic ways of the communist rule of their country. Their son, Nikolai, was a student who studied in Moscow and was well spoken regarding the socialist reform that had taken place in their country. Jonas and the Russians continued to argue about the effects of the war on eastern and northern Europe. Erik’s comments turned negatively toward the U.S., and I became engrossed in the heightened tension during the table conversation.

  Larisa, seeing both her son and husband at the edge of being enraged, calmed everyone down by changing the subject. She talked about bringing her dogs along on the journey. She had two black terriers that were prized show dogs. She was going to be showing them in Boston. She was hoping they would garner a prize, and she could sell their offspring for a huge sum.

  Mimi chimed in and talked about Mum, who was traveling in stowage on the ship. Mimi explained how we had found the dog on the road, and how Mum was half dead, and how the dog has been our companion ever since. The table was quite taken with the detail in which Mimi told the story of how we happened upon the dog lying and waiting for death in the high heat of summer.

  Jonas asked, “It certainly seemed like you were well off the tourist track in your travels.”

  I waited to hear how Mimi would answer.

  “We had actually gone into the Greek countryside a bit. You soak up more of the local culture off the tourist tracks. We both have focused studies in sociology and anthropology and find the local villages all the more fascinating,” she quipped. Before anyone could ask more about our studies, Mimi asked Larisa about her dogs and the subject stayed closed.

  As the women conversed together about their dogs, Edik asked me what I did for work. I told him I was an anthropologist.

  Edik said, “So a socialist, yes?”

  I answered, “No, my study is in the social sciences of ancient societies.”

  Edik replied, “Ours is the greatest social society in the world – all men being equal.”

  Jonas chimed in, “As long as you are not seen as an enemy of the government, right?”

  Edik, upset, pounded on the table. Things with him were very black and white. He viewed his own involvement in the war as the saving grace of the world. “The Russians single-handedly defeated the Nazis,” he said. This upset the rest of us at the table. Jonas and I both felt that our own countries’ involvement had prevented the Nazis and Japanese from capturing Russia. Jonas insisted, “Had the Western Allies not held the Nazis and Japanese back, they both could have taken Moscow.” The conversation was heated again. Everyone argued with strong conviction until, finally, the conversation ended as Edik made a proclamation that I would not soon forget.

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  “You are all men of science. What do you know about war and peace? You think science is black and white. That science is fact. Science is not a fact. Fact is reality, truth, and absolute. But science is not absolute. Scientists themselves cannot agree on anything. Everything in science is arguable. And, because it is arguable and not always black and white, it cannot be a fact. You think you are always right and someone else is wrong. Most westerners are this way. Sometimes you need to look beyond your own boundaries and see what someone else is looking at.

  Beyond that comment about science, I do not remember anything else that was said after that. The words rang in my head throughout that evening. I could not understand how a man could be so wrong about so much. Everything that I had been taught about science and my own interest in social sciences argued against what he was saying. But it had its effect. I began to question my own convictions. I began to wonder what the physical proof I sought would actually prove, if anything, to the world. There would always be some who would look at what I was saying and still disagree. Did this make what I believed wrong?

  After dinner concluded, Jonas and I walked out onto the boat’s deck. I asked him, “What do you make of Edik and his comments about science?”

  Jonas replied, “Don’t pay that Russian any mind. Trust me. I’ve dealt with his type before. He only made those comments to get a rise out of us. That was his only point: to succeed in making us crazy. He has no idea what he is talking about. You have to understand, Jack, they’ve been closed off to the rest of the world since the war. They really have no idea what the world is like on the outside. Closed-mindedness – that is all it is. You and I know what science is. It is all the fact there is. It is the absolute truth. That is what doctors, researchers, and scientists like us do. We prove what is fact – an absolute.”

  I knew Jonas was right. I just wasn’t so sure about what I believed anymore.

  As I tried to sleep that night, the sea was rough. The ship was rocking back and forth as the high winds and waves slapped it from side to side. My mind began to wander as I lay awake. The intense arguing at dinner stirred a conflict within me. I wondered. I worried. I could not get the issue of actual fact out of my head.

  Finally, when I was able to fall asleep, I began to dream. The dream felt real. I was on a boat, and the waves were crashing against us. I could not sleep. Mimi was with me, along with Mum, in our room.

  Suddenly, a huge wave crashed on top of the boat, and the boat could no longer maintain its position. It rolled over on top, and we came crashing out of our beds. Our room tumbled and tumbled like clothes in the dryer, over and over again. My body felt like rubber as I tumbled in a circular motion. It continued for quite some time. Then the turning stopped suddenly, and the boat was left damaged and lying on its side. Mimi and I were alive and all right.

  Mimi grabbed hold of Mum and held the dog close to her heart. Mum responded to Mimi’s love by licking Mimi’s chin. We were all right but afraid. It was dark. There was no light outside our window nor in the room. My head was pounding from the beating against the bunks as I tumbled over and over again. I stood up with my arms outstretched to brace myself from the rocky sea. I noticed the boat was now calm. The water was not moving. I helped Mimi up, and we walked slowly to the doorway into the upside-down boat. With each step, we feared another wave would crash against the boat. As I reached for the door handle that was now near my knees, I was able to open it, and the door swung inward to the floor. I could not see a single light in the corridor outside our room. I could not hear a single sound either. It was completely dark and silent.

  I told Mimi to stay put. I would go out and see what the situation was like. She agreed and sat back down with Mum in her lap on the floor. I crawled out the door and stood up outside in the corridor. I saw no one. I heard nothing still.

  As I was walking down the corridor, the boat began to correct itself. Slowly, it began to straighten itself up. I walked on what was the sidewall, and as the boat began to move, I walked from the wall to the floor again. I made my way to the outside deck and was surprised. There was no wind. Outside, there was still no light, no stars, just dark. I could only see black all around me. I was afraid.

  I reached out in front of me with my hands and walked slowly into the pitch-black darkness. I could feel my hands grab onto the railing of the ship’s deck, and I held onto it as tight as I could. In the blackness, my eyes tried to adjust. I was straining to see anything out there. I looked out to see the horizon and could not see it.

  Then I felt a warm heat penetrating the top of my head. I put one hand on my head, and it was wet. Was I bleeding? Was I sweating? I reached out my hand in front of my face to see it. I could not even see my hand in front of my face. My hand was touching my nose, and I still could not see it. I then smelt the wetness, and there was no smell. The heat on my head became more intense until I could not just feel it, I could see it.

  The heat was from a light that was beaming down on me from the sky. In the light, I could finally see myself, my shoulders, my arms, my feet, but nothing beyond myself. I then felt the boat begin to sway again from side to side in slow motion.

  It was gentle gliding, nothing more than a simple sway. The light continued to get brighter and brighter on me. I could now see the railing and the floor of the boat. The bright light became more and more intense and was now beaming down with the color of the moonlight but with the heat intensity like the sun.

  I then heard faint voices calling out to me. The voices were not in the boat. They were in the water. I strained to see if I could see anyone. I put my hand over my brow to block out the bright light on me. Had some passengers been thrown overboard during the tossing? The voices became clearer and louder. They were calling out to me by name. I could not see them, but they could see me. The light above me was like a beacon to them. The voices became louder and more frantic. They were scared. My heart began to race. I was frozen in a panic. I did not know what to do.

  The light continued to grow more intense and hotter. I began to sweat. Finally, I could see the people out in the water. They were waving their hands in a panic at me. I could finally see them, and they looked fearful. I then realized I knew them. They were not the passengers on the ship at all. It was the two men from Greece who had died. I recognized them, and their faces were clear.

  My mind flashed back to the last time I had seen them in the cavern in Greece. I could see the fear in their faces in the water, and it was the same as it had been in the cave. They did not want to die. But they were not alone. Also in the water were Uri, Mimi, Cadmus, Gianni, and some of my students. I even saw the face of my teaching assistant, Colley. They were all drowning and were calling out to me to save them. But I was in a panic. I could not move. I did not know what to do.

  I knew I was not strong enough to save them all. But they were all looking at me for help. I was their only hope. I looked around the boat and did not see anyone else. No one else was onboard. No one else was there to help me with them. But no matter what I did, I could not move. I was just standing there with my hands tight on the railing – frozen.

  I began to cry. The tears that rolled down my face seemed to be the only part of my body that seemed to function. I could not make my body move. It was like I was encased in stone, like a marble statue. The light began to dim. As it did, I could see some of the faces in the water begin to sink. As they began to realize I was not doing anything to help them, they gave up. Their hope was lost. I could not save them.

  One by one, their bodies sank into the black abyss of the sea. As they sank, their heads turned up to look at the sky and take that last breath before being overcome by the power of the ocean, until finally they were all gone.

  The light grew dim, and I was alone again in the darkness. I could finally move, and I freed myself from my frozen position. I then ran toward the bow of the boat to see where we were. It looked like we were at the top of the world. It was cold and icy, and I realized I was alone on the boat again, swaying in the icy water. My sweat began to turn to frost and ice.

  Suddenly, I woke up. It was a dream that I could vividly recall as well as the events of the night before. I was glad it was over, and my panic was coming to a calm. I got out of bed and looked out the porthole. The sun was out, and we were docked in Iceland. Outside, I could see men unloading the cargo from the hull of the boat. It looked cold and windy.

  I looked over at Mimi, and she was still asleep. The realization that we were all okay was little comfort to me this morning. I was still horrified by the visions of me not being able to help anyone. The guilt of the two men who had died while we were in Greece had resurfaced. All I could think about was that I had killed them.

  Was I killing those closest to me on this quest? How would it feel if I indeed found the proof that giants existed or even still exist to this day? Erik the Russian could be right. Science and fact do not always prove anything. This, I was sure of that morning in Iceland.