As he stood there, she took out a pen and wrote with block letters in the margin of her exercise book: I'M STUDYING PHILOSOPHY.
As she was closing the exercise book again, something fell out of it. It was a postcard from Lebanon:
Dear Hilde, When you read this we shall already have spoken together by phone about the tragic death down here. Sometimes I ask myself if war could have been avoided if people had been a bit better at thinking. Perhaps the best remedy against violence would be a short course in philosophy. What about "the UN's little philosophy book"-- which all new citizens of the world could be given a copy of in their own language. I'll propose the idea to the UN General Secretary.
You said on the phone that you were getting better at looking after your things. I'm glad, because you're the untidiest creature I've ever met. Then you said the only thing you'd lost since we last spoke was ten crowns. I'll do what I can to help you find it. Although I am far away, I have a helping hand back home. (If I find the money I'll put it in with your birthday present.) Love, Dad, who feels as if he's already started the long trip home.
Sophie had just managed to finish reading the card when the last bell rang. Once again her thoughts were in turmoil.
Joanna was waiting in the playground. On the way home Sophie opened her schoolbag and showed Joanna the latest card.
"When is it postmarked?" asked Joanna.
"Probably June 15 ..."
"No, look ... 5/30/90, it says."
"That was yesterday ... the day after the death of the major in Lebanon."
"I doubt if a postcard from Lebanon can get to Norway in one day," said Joanna.
"Especially not considering the rather unusual address: Hilde Moller Knag, c/o Sophie Amundsen, Fu-rulia Junior High School..."
"Do you think it could have come by mail? And the teacher just popped it in your exercise book?"
"No idea. I don't know whether I dare ask either."
No more was said about the postcard.
"I'm going to have a garden party on Midsummer Eve," said Sophie.
"With boys?"
Sophie shrugged her shoulders. "We don't have to invite the worst idiots."
"But you are going to invite Jeremy?"
"If you want. By the way, I might invite Alberto Knox."
"You must be crazy!"
"I know."
That was as far as the conversation got before their ways parted at the supermarket.
The first thing Sophie did when she got home was to see if Hermes was in the garden. Sure enough, there he was, sniffing around the apple trees.
"Hermes!"
The dog stood motionless for a second. Sophie knew exactly what was going on in that second: the dog heard her call, recognized her voice, and decided to see if she was there. Then, discovering her, he began to run toward her. Finally all four legs came pattering like drumsticks.
That was actually quite a lot in the space of one second.
He dashed up to her, wagged his tail wildly, and jumped up to lick her face.
"Hermes, clever boy! Down, down. No, stop slobbering all over me. Heel, boy! That's it!"
Sophie let herself into the house. Sherekan came jumping out from the bushes. He was rather wary of the stranger. Sophie put his cat food out, poured birdseed in the budgerigars' cup, got out a salad leaf for the tortoise, and wrote a note to her mother.
She wrote that she was going to take Hermes home and would be back by seven.
They set off through the town. Sophie had remembered to take some money with her this time. She wondered whether she ought to take the bus with Hermes, but decided she had better wait and ask Alberto about it.
While she walked on and on behind Hermes she thought about what an animal really is.
What was the difference between a dog and a person?