The White String

Wim waited until Noor, Sami and Bente were behind the bench. The crate was between their feet. He picked up the boat hook, turning it so the long end didn’t hit anything.

‘Something under there?’ the man with the painting things called from the path.

‘Our model boat,’ Wim said. ‘I’d like to get it out from here.’

The man put down his bag. He looked at where Wim was standing and moved the paint tin further from the entrance. ‘I’ll keep the path clear for you.’

Noor couldn’t see the roof now. She wanted to go back to the gap, but that would put her exactly where Wim needed room. She stayed beside Sami. Bente stood on the other side of the crate, watching the place where the hook disappeared beneath the edge.

There was a faint scraping sound. Wim stopped.

‘Hang on,’ he said.

He shifted his hands along the pole. Noor watched his sleeve brush the railing. The hook stayed low. The reeds beside the landing stage stirred, and a patch of white appeared at the edge.

‘There!’ Sami said.

Noor saw it too. The roof came a few centimetres further, brighter now it wasn’t all in shadow. Bente put a hand on the back of the bench.

The boat stopped.

Wim didn’t pull harder. He held the pole still and looked at the back of the model. A reed stem slanted above the water. Whenever the boat moved, the stem shook.

‘It’s caught on something,’ Wim said.

Bente pointed from where she stood. ‘The string. There, by the broken bit.’

Noor searched along the roof. At first she saw only a pale line on the water. When it pulled tight, she realised it was above the surface. A thin white string ran from the boat to the broken stem.

‘I can see it,’ she said.

The string was caught round the bend in the reed. Just behind it was an old brown leaf. That was enough to hold the little model. Wind pushed at the roof, but the boat couldn’t go any further.

Wim looked at Bente. ‘Yes, that’s where it’s stuck.’

He let the model drift back a little. The string slackened. Noor lost sight of it at once, though Wim could still follow it from where he stood. The tip of the hook moved by the reed.

A drop fell from the beam.

Then the boat came free.

It turned slowly, back end first. Noor’s hands reached forward without her meaning them to. There was still a whole bench between her and the water. She put them on the crate handles instead.

‘The towel,’ Bente said.

Sami pulled the loose corner out of the way. The crate stayed on the boards. They didn’t have to hold it out over the water for Wim.

Wim brought the model to the clear space beside him and lifted it inside the railing. Water ran down its sides and dripped onto the landing stage. Gently, he lowered the boat onto the towel.

Noor bent down. Here it was, right in front of her, bigger than Friday’s little light. Brown speckles covered the white roof. A leaf was stuck to the front. Behind one window a tiny passenger hung with his nose against the glass.

Bente knelt by the crate.

‘He was sitting up before,’ she said.

‘I think he’d rather be sitting up too,’ Sami said.

Bente ran one finger along the dry rim of the crate. She didn’t touch the passenger yet. Her other hand hovered above the two red boots.

‘They’re both still there.’

The smaller one had slid towards the edge of the roof. Wim steadied the model while Bente carefully lifted the boots off. A pale layer of loosened glue was on the bottom. She put them side by side on a dry corner of the towel.

Two left boots. This close, Noor could see it straight away. She tilted her head to look at the rounded toes.

‘They’re not going back on the roof,’ Bente said.

She was talking to the boots. Noor didn’t say they might never have found the boat otherwise. Bente moved them further from the wet hull.

Wim switched off the lamp. He checked the compartment holding the two batteries and took them out before anyone started drying the model. The faint yellow dot was gone.

‘Dry it first, then check it,’ he said. ‘The light stays off for now.’

Bente nodded. She took the leaf off the front and put it beside a post. Water lay on the deck. The cork beneath the hull was darker than in her photograph from when they were making the boat.

‘It did stay afloat,’ Sami said.

Wim looked underneath. ‘Yes. That bit did its job.’

He freed the white string from the piece of reed still attached to the boat. Its end was curled and dirty. Bente looked, but didn’t tug at it. Wim put it in a little empty bag he had with him.

‘Are we taking this too?’ Noor asked.

Bente looked at the bag. ‘Back to the library. I don’t know if I want it in the exhibition yet.’

Noor tucked the bag under the crate handle so they wouldn’t lose it. She didn’t make a label for it.

The man in overalls picked up his bag again. ‘In time for the exhibition?’

‘Two o’clock,’ Bente said. ‘We still have to clean it.’

‘Better let you get on, then.’

Wim thanked him. Noor and Sami lifted the crate between them, keeping it clear of their legs. Bente put the red boots safely in a little empty box Wim gave her and set it on the dry towel.

Before leaving the landing stage, Noor looked back at the spot where she had crouched. The tapping had stopped. The post and reeds were exactly where they had been.

On the path they waited for two walkers. Sami raised his end of the crate a little and Noor adjusted her grip. The model stayed level. Bente walked close beside them.

‘When we get back, I want to sit that man up first,’ she said. ‘No more nose against the window.’

Noor looked at the little nose behind the glass. ‘I’ll find him somewhere dry.’

Then they walked back to the library.