“Could be, Sophie. Could be his name was Knox.”
“Or was it Knag?”
“I can’t for the life of me remember ... Which Knox or Knag are you talking
about?”
“One is Alberto, the other is Hilde’s father.”
“It’s all making me dizzy.”
“Is there any food in the house?”
“You can warm up the meatballs.”
Exactly two weeks went by without Sophie hearing a word from Alberto. She
got another birthday card for Hilde, but although the actual day was approaching, she
did not receive a single birthday card herself.
One afternoon she went to the Old Town and knocked on Alberto’s door. He
was out, but there was a short note attached to his door. It said:
Happy birthday, Hilde! Now the great turning point is at hand. The moment of
truth, little one. Every time I think about it, I can’t stop laughing. It has naturally
something to do with Berkeley, so hold on to your hat.
Sophie tore the note off the door and stuffed it into Alberto’s mailbox as she
went out.
Damn! Surely he’d not gone back to Athens? How could he leave her with so
many questions unanswered?
When she got home from school on June 14, Hermes was romping about in the
garden. Sophie ran toward him and he came prancing happily toward her. She put her
arms around him as if he were the one who could solve all the riddles.
Again she left a note for her mother, but this time she put Alberto’s address on
it.
As they made their way across town Sophie thought about tomorrow. Not about
her own birthday so much— that was not going to be celebrated until Midsummer
Eve anyway. But tomorrow was Hilde’s birthday too. Sophie was convinced
something quite extraordinary would happen. At least there would be an end to all
those birthday cards from Lebanon.
When they had crossed Main Square and were making for the Old Town, they
passed by a park with a playground. Hermes stopped by a bench as if he wanted
Sophie to sit down.
She did, and while she patted the dog’s head she looked into his eyes. Suddenly
the dog started to shudder violently. He’s going to bark now, thought Sophie.
Then his jaws began to vibrate, but Hermes neither growled nor barked. He
opened his mouth and said:
“Happy birthday, Hilde!”
Sophie was speechless. Did the dog just talk to her? Impossible, she must have
imagined it because she was thinking of Hilde. But deep down she was nevertheless
convinced that Hermes had spoken, and in a deep resonant bass voice.
The next second everything was as before. Hermes gave a couple of
demonstrative barks—as if to cover up the fact that he had just spoken with a human
voice— and trotted on ahead toward Alberto’s place. As they were going inside
Sophie looked up at the sky. It had been fine weather all day but now heavy clouds
were beginning to gather in the distance.
Alberto opened the door and Sophie said at once:
“No civilities, please. You are a great idiot, and you know it.”
“What’s the matter now?”
“The major taught Hermes to talk!”