Obsessed

Obsessed

The doorbell rang, followed immediately by a voice shouting from the porch.

"Muriel, it's only me! I just came round to give you your ticket for the golf club dance on Saturday."

"Margaret, please come in! The door is open. I’ll be with you in a minute."

Seconds later, Muriel hurried into the hallway to greet her friend. Feeling a wave of comfort in Margaret's familiar presence, she invited her into the kitchen for a cup of tea and a quick natter.

With the kettle on the boil, the two friends began their chat. The first subject was Saturday night: what were they going to wear, and who else would be there? Was there going to be a live band this year? Both women agreed that their husbands secretly detested the event, attending only to please their wives.

Suddenly, Muriel burst forth with her latest news. "Oh, I haven’t told you! Harold has just finished a book about how the Saxons invaded Britain all those centuries ago. They traversed the North Sea in long wooden boats. As you know, he’s been fascinated by this subject for years, but now he talks about absolutely nothing else. He told me he’s going to build one of those boats and make the crossing himself! I told him he was mad, and that he was wasting both his time and his money. But do you know what he replied? He’s already taken a three-year lease on a shed down at the yacht club! Apparently, the club management thought the project was totally unrealistic, but they were more than happy to rent him a disused shed. Now he tells me he’s scouring the countryside to find the right wood. Do you think it’s a sign of some sort of mental breakdown?"

"No," Margaret replied. "Just middle-aged men clinging to old dreams and ambitions. These ideas burn like a bonfire in their heads, but soon enough, they turn to a heap of ash. For instance, my old man is convinced he’s going to win the town’s annual golf championship one day. His present handicap is 18. Dream on! But wasn’t Harold in the navy before you got married? And don’t you already have a boat down at the yacht club?"

"Yes to the first question," Muriel sighed. "He was in the navy and spent quite a bit of time at sea. As for us having a boat at the club, that’s true too. But since he became obsessed with this new project, we seldom go there because the other members are tired of listening to him. I know they laugh behind his back, and it makes me feel terribly uncomfortable. Lately, he spends a considerable amount of time down in that shed; he’s rarely at home. Ah, well—let’s just enjoy ourselves on Saturday night."

They did enjoy themselves, for the most part, though Harold spent evening boring the other guests with tales of Anglo-Saxon invasions.

That summer, Harold surprised Muriel with a holiday to Norway and Denmark as a present for her forty-fifth birthday. Margaret was the first to hear the news, declaring that she would start working on her own husband to do the same, as her own forty-fifth birthday was the following year.

They landed in Norway just as the sun was setting, enjoyed a fish dinner, and retired to bed early. At breakfast the next morning, however, Harold informed his wife that he wouldn't be able to spend the day sightseeing with her in Oslo. He had organized a full day of meetings.

Muriel replied sarcastically, "How amazing... the boat follows us everywhere. I only hope I don’t get lost on my own."

The next time she saw her husband was at dinner. He arrived all smiles, anxious to share his news, but instantly remembered that this trip was supposed to be her birthday present. He paused and asked Muriel to tell him about her day first. With a touch of spite, she gave him an agonizingly detailed account of her solo excursion, right down to the minutes she spent drinking coffee and pondering her life.

With the patient look of someone who had spent the day right alongside her, Harold listened until it was finally his turn to speak. He confessed that she was right about the boat; his meetings had been entirely about his project. He had spent the day at the Viking Ship Museum, speaking with the director about ancient shipbuilding techniques and reviewing recently developed drawings of two excavated vessels.

"The most exciting part of the day," Harold added, "was a long talk with the director's teenage son, Geir. Subject, my dear, to your approval, he has agreed to come to England for a year to help me build the boat. The proposition on the table is that I cover his board and lodging, plus a bit of weekly pocket money. My question to you is: are you prepared to have him as a guest for a year? He could sleep in the spare room."

Muriel stared at her husband. "You are truly obsessed with this project, Harold, despite all the doubts from our children, our friends, and the experienced members of the yacht club." There was a brief pause while she formulated the right response. Finally, she said, "May I meet him first?"

The following evening, the director and his son were invited to dinner. The director's wife was absent; it turned out he was a widower. When they arrived, Muriel struggled to hide her amazement. It was as if two individuals had just stepped off the set of a Viking film. Both were tall, healthy, and powerful. The father had a chiseled face, as though sculpted by a master artist, though Muriel noticed a profound sadness in his blue eyes, suggesting he had suffered some devastating emotional pain in his life. His son, Geir, was an exceptionally handsome young man with blonde hair brushing his shoulders, blue eyes the exact shade of his father's, and a gorgeous, dimpled smile.

Muriel realized she would be delighted to harbor this young craftsman for a year, her mind instantly flashing to her younger daughter. Over dinner, the conversation revolved primarily around the Saxons, their lifestyle, and their ships. Muriel did manage to learn that Geir was an only child, and that his mother had passed away in a terrible accident that neither man cared to discuss. The evening ended with handshakes and a firm agreement that Geir would arrive in England in three weeks.

Three weeks later, Muriel and Harold met Geir at the airport, accompanied by their youngest daughter. When the girl caught sight of him, she whispered a slang expression into her mother’s ear: "What a dish!"

Within a month, the household settled into a comfortable routine. Geir worked on the boat during the week and kept his weekends free to explore England. Harold, who had entered the legal profession and became a solicitor after leaving the navy, worked alongside Geir in the evenings, sometimes late into the night. Muriel delighted in hosting Geir, spoiling him as if he were her own son. Interestingly, their two daughters started spending a considerable amount of time at the house whenever Geir was around—a stark departure from their usual habits. The eldest daughter was married with two children, while the youngest was in her final year at the local university, studying to become a doctor.

The atmosphere and passions of the family shifted dramatically on the night they gathered to celebrate the eldest daughter's birthday. Harold stood up, glass in hand, and made an announcement.

"We now have ten months remaining before Geir’s departure," Harold declared. "Geir has bet me ten-to-one that the boat will be finished on time, and that the two of us will successfully sail it across the North Sea. His wager is one hundred pounds. Although we are both working incredibly hard, my current feeling is that it simply won’t be ready in ten months, so I have accepted his bet."

The temperature in the room seemed to rise instantly. An air of competitive excitement fluttered across the dinner table. Muriel was the first to speak. "I love you both, but there is no way that boat will be ready or seaworthy enough to take Geir back to Norway in ten months."

The eldest sister and her husband agreed. The three of them huddled together for a quick whisper before Muriel turned back to the table. "Let’s have a bit of fun. The three of us will bet you one hundred pounds each, Harold, that the boat won't be ready. If we're right, you owe us two hundred pounds each. In the very slim event that Geir is right, each of us will owe you five hundred pounds."

While Harold considered the terms, the younger sister spoke up, looking intently at her father and Geir. "I want in. I bet twenty pounds that the boat will be finished in time. If it is, you four will owe me one hundred pounds each."

Geir stood up and gave her a tender kiss on the cheek. Harold surveyed the room before smiling. "Although I'm reasonably sure we don’t have enough time to pull this off, I accept your bets."

Before Harold could note down the wagers, an animated discussion broke out to establish the ground rules: Geir had to set his own two feet on Norwegian soil without being rescued in the North Sea. Only Harold and Geir could work on the hull over the next ten months. The ship had to utilize the exact construction and sailing techniques used by the Vikings centuries ago. However, it was agreed that a group of local women Harold had recruited could weave the sail out of wool, strictly adhering to historical methods. There would be no motor and no electricity. Finally, they would have a two-week window after the ten-month deadline to select the best sailing day based on the weather. This heated debate resulted in a final agreement, which was carefully written down. The celebration ended with smiles all around and a heightened interest in the project.

That night, Geir and Harold had a quick strategy discussion. They both knew it would be a close call, especially since work on the sail had only just begun. Geir agreed to start working Saturdays.

Four months before the deadline, the vessel had truly taken shape, thanks to their grueling schedule of working Saturdays and occasional Sundays. It was a half-scale replica of the traditional twenty-four-meter Viking warships, which historically held a crew of sixty men. At both ends of their smaller craft, Geir had carved a magnificent figurehead depicting a dragon. The carvings were true works of art, standing out like protective deities. Geir assured Harold they would bring the ship luck. For the first time, Harold began to believe they might actually make it. The beautiful wooden structure sat proudly in the shed, a testament to what human hands could achieve centuries ago.

It was around this time that a curious shift occurred. The members of the yacht club suddenly began taking an intense interest in the project. For months, they had enjoyed watching the tall, handsome young Norwegian come and go from the shed. When word leaked out that the family had laid heavy bets on the project's success, the club members wanted a piece of the action.

Harold’s family was astonished to learn that the yacht club was running an official betting book with rules mirroring their own. Because time was so short, the vast majority of members bet that the project was doomed, driving the odds of failure miserably low. Conversely, the odds for success were incredibly generous. For the sophisticated investor, it was a classic arbitrage opportunity. Harold promptly joined the club betting pool, placing a massive wager on his own success. If he won, he intended to give Geir twenty-five percent of the earnings. Within a month of the drop-dead date, a substantial sum of money was in play at the club.

During the final two months, the surge of visitors and growing local enthusiasm forced Harold to employ a twenty-four-hour guard to ensure no unauthorized persons entered the shed or tampered with the vessel.

Finally, the week of departure arrived. The weather forecast was clear, the boat was ready, and a massive crowd had gathered for the launching. Before the shed doors were opened, Harold and Geir looked at one another for a long moment before embracing, tears in their eyes.

"Thank you, Geir," Harold said softly. "I couldn't have done it without you. Now for the dangerous part."

"We will make it," Geir replied. "Over the past year, I have been blessed with the most interesting work, living with a wonderful family in a country I have come to admire. Let’s pull up the anchor."

They opened the doors to the roaring cheers of the crowd. Equipped with supplies for a three-to-six-day journey, the boat was launched with the help of dozens of willing hands. Four days later, after surviving a grueling two-hour storm in the middle of the North Sea, they landed safely on the shores of Norway. Harold was amazed by how the traditional keel and clinker construction techniques gave the wooden hull the flexibility it needed to ride out the rough, pounding seas.

How the participants of Harold’s dream were affected:

The Yacht Club: Received national recognition, with talk of a potential documentary film.

Muriel: Got to play host for a year to a brilliant young man admired by her entire family, losing only a little bit of betting money in the process.

The Youngest Daughter: Received a two-month invitation to Norway from Geir, alongside a tidy sum of pocket money from her winning bet.

Geir: Gained the opportunity to work on a masterpiece of a project, a lifelong bond with a surrogate family, and a serious financial payout.

Harold: Proved to all the doubters that long-term dreams, no matter how wild, can come true.

The Boat: The yacht club renovated the historic shed and had the vessel brought back from Norway. It now rests there in all its majesty for visitors to admire.