MORNING OF THE DAY, FRIDAY, JUNE 4
The world promised much to Karl Haugen, a shy 7-year old. He knew a lot for his age. He knew from first-hand experience that the world promised good and evil and that the world delivered good and evil in unexpected and unequal amounts. Life despite its shortness taught him that nothing was what it appeared to be. That’s why he liked to study icebergs.
In the school gymnasium he turned to his school friend Einar Lund and said:
“I wanted to do my project on icebergs. . not on red-eye tree frogs.”
Icebergs reminded him of people in his life. They appeared to be one thing above the surface but deep below they were quite different if not dangerous. He knew all about icebergs and how one iceberg had ripped open the thick steel hull of the Titanic before sending it and more than 1,500 passengers to a frigid and watery grave. He definitely wanted to do his science fair exhibit on icebergs. After all the floating blocks of ice have always been an important part of the north Atlantic Ocean that his Viking ancestors sailed on for centuries. But his father and stepmother Agnes stopped him.
“No. . don’t be silly,” said his stepmother a month ago when he first proposed a science project on icebergs. “Do it on frogs. Everyone in Norway prefers a science fair exhibit on something warm and cute from the tropics.”
“Icebergs?” said his father later that evening. “No. It’s best to do it on the red-eye frogs that we have recently read about in the newspaper. They’re real cute. . like Agnes says. Don’t forget my boy. . people always like cute living things like frogs and not dead cold things like icebergs.”
Karl hated switching from icebergs to frogs. But orders were orders at the Haugen household and now that his science project was done the thin little boy with glasses looked forward to spending most of the summer with his mother and her husband up in Namsos a small town north of Trondheim. Only three more weeks of school remained before school ended for eight weeks of heavenly summer vacations.
“Karl. . you made a very good project,” said Inga Lund the mother of his friend and classmate Einar.
“Thank you Mrs. Lund,” he said pleased but not surprised that everyone seemed to like the science project that his father and stepmother had chosen for him.
Mrs. Lund smiled and pulled out her camera. She waved at them so that she could take a picture of him and Einar next to the pictures and drawings and written information that Karl and his stepmother had carefully glued to a tall poster. The poster and dozens of other exhibits rested precariously on a long table. Mrs. Lund aimed the camera and said:
“Move a little to the right Karl so we can see the mini-jungle you made in the shoe box. . it looks so real with the trees and the river and the frog! Very good!”
Karl Haugen smiled confidently as the flash came on for his picture. He felt happy at how the adult guests (almost 200 of them) had stopped to look at his exhibit and comment favorably on his project. Teachers and fellow schoolmates also reacted well to his red-eye tree frog project at the annual science fair that Grindbakken Skole always held toward the end of each school year. The second-grader wondered how long his happiness would last.
“Thank you for coming,” shouted the principal at exactly 8:40 AM. “Five more minutes! Parents. . family. . and friends. . please say your goodbyes and get ready to leave in five minutes. . we want to begin our first class at nine o’clock sharp.”
Everyone smiled and laughed and hugged and took pictures that would soon be posted on Facebook and other websites on the Internet. Everyone looked so happy and healthy and prosperous and loved. But the little boy knew that no life is perfect even if it seems to be so.