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When Findus Was Little and Disappeared Sven Nordqvist

Opal

Originalets titel: När Findus var liten och försvann © Sven Nordqvist, 2001 Translation: Martin Peterson Bokförlaget Opal AB, Bromma Printed in Belgium, 2001 ISBN: 978-91-7270-972-0

When Findus Was Little and Disappeared Sven Nordqvist Translation: Martin Peterson

Opal

Old man Pettson sat with his cat Findus in his lap solving a crossword. ”Tell me about when I disappeared,” said Findus. ”You haven’t disappeared, you are sitting right here,” said Pettson. ”Yes, but when I was little.”

“Oh, then. But you already know that. I have told it to you so many times.”

“Tell me anyway.”

“Well, I suppose I can,” Pettson said putting the crossword aside.

“Do you want the whole story or just when you disappeared?”

“Tell me the whole story,” the cat said settling himself contentedly.

“Then I will tell you the whole story,” the old man said.

“This is the way it was.”

“Once upon a time there was an old man called Pettson. He lived in a little house in the country as comfortably as any old man could wish. The only trouble was that he sometimes felt lonely. Certainly he had a few neighbours he could talk to if necessary, but they had their own lives to think about.

And he had his hens of course, they were quite good company. But they were so scatterbrained. Just as he would be talking to them they would simply run off, because one of them had found a worm or something. There were never any deeper conversations.

When darkness fell and the hens had gone to roost, the small house often felt very empty and quiet. Then it was as if nothing was much fun anymore.

One day Beda Andersson from the neighbouring farm came over to say hello and have a chat. She brought buns and Pettson offered her coffee in the arbour.

But he did not say much. Beda Andersson understood that he wasn’t happy. ”You should have a wife to cheer you up a bit,” she said. ”Nah,” Pettson said. ”If so I would have found one years ago. Now I am too old.

I have got used to managing on my own. It would be too much with a whole lady.

No, I don’t need one.” ”You haven’t even got a cat.” ”Nah,” Pettson said and pondered a long while. ”A cat is no trouble. Perhaps I should have one.”

The following week Beda Andersson came back. This time she brought a cardboard box. ”This’ll keep you company,” she said and gave the box to Pettson. ”What’s this?” said the old man and read on the box. ”’Findus Green Peas’ it says.

They’re squeaking.”

He opened the box and there, on a green striped piece of cloth, stood a kitten.

It looked Pettson right in the eyes and squeaked. ”Hello Findus Green Peas,” Pettson said feeling just as when you pull up the blinds on a summer morning and the warm sunlight pours in. ”I’m Pettson and this is my kitchen. You are going to live here now.” And then: ”Would you like some coffee?”

Old man Pettson lives with his hens in a little house in the country. He is feeling very lonely.

One day his neighbour Beda Andersson came over with a cardboard box to him. “Findus Green Peas” was printed on it in big letters. But there weren’t any peas. There was a tiny kitten instead.

It was in that way Findus became a friend of Pettson and many others.

ISBN: 978-91-7270-972-0