Stones, shells and swedes

I’m up north with my parents, we’re visiting grandma. Her house and the yard looks like it did decades ago, when I wasn’t even born. As we get inside, I find my father sleeping on the couch, waking up as I enter. My uncle sits by his side, with his back to the TV, listening to the weather report, eyes closed. My father says: «What do you know, I went in here to find something, but now I only found myself sleeping». I shake my uncle’s hand and he laughs.

I walk outside into the old shed that’s always been there. I feel happy because I love this little shed, it’s both a bit terrifying and full of mystery. An old, manual grinding machine for sharpening knives is standing in it’s usual place outside the shed, looking brand new and unused.

I find a really old motorcycle with a sidecar in the shed. The vehicle’s design is a bit strange; it’s rounded forms are a bit exaggerated, it looks like a cartooned version of a Vespa scooter. Layers of dust is covering it.

I get a phonecall from my mate and colleague. He says it’s urgent that I go to Sweden immediately to promote our animated film. I ask why it’s so urgent and that I’m visiting my grandmother. He says it’s because we have recieved a letter.

I get on the motorbike, and by treading the pedals a few times I manage to start it. I suddenly remember an old camera I have in my right pocket. I’m wearing a long, brown-grey coat. As I drive along the road, I’m listening to a recording of myself, from the camera. It’s some kind of dialogue we recorded for use in the film, but we never did after all. It’s slightly embarrassing; it’s as if I was a teenager when the recording was made.

After a while I stop at the side of the road, by a bench and a table. On the table there’s a small stone and a shell. The stone sometimes shapeshift into a shell, and this, I gather, is a simple lead to an even simpler puzzle: I have to put the stone into the shell, so that is what I do. The result is that I teleport to Sweden.

I find myself in Sweden, by the road here as well, with a bench and a table also. The time of day seems to have changed a bit, a beautiful evening sun shines and makes everything golden. On the table I find a new stone and a new shell. Both have got greetings engraved or written on them; the greetings are for me and my colleague. The other side of the shell says «From Sweden with love». I take a few photographs of it, but after a while the camera barely holds up, the lens falls off and I worry that the film may be spoilt.

Two swedes appear. They want me to translate a few passages from our film, from norwegian to swedish. This is really silly because the narrative of the film is in english, and anyway the difference between our two languages isn’t that big. They also want me to translate from the recording on the camera. I say I don’t have time, I have to attend a meeting. I use the shell or the stone to project a holographic transmission from the festival where our film is now being premiered. It recieves standing ovations and I feel good, I can’t wait to tell my colleague about this, and about the stones and the shells as well.

The swedes suddenly go mad. I can feel their anger building up, they definitely want to do me some harm, so I decide to get on the motorcycle and leave. I put the shell and the stone together in my pocket, and start treading to start the motorbike. It works just fine. It runs like a dream, and quick too. I drive through a tunnel, and – voilà ! – I am back in Norway. I am delighted. There’s a wide, beautiful and completely empty road ahead of me, a long stretch, and the sun is setting.

As I get close to my grandmothers house, I recieve a message on my mobile, from a friend. It says «Left home without locking up. Bastards!»

I wake up.