The Shapeshifters Read Online Free PDF Page A

sit, beside each other in the grass, their eyes directed at the cabin.
    â€˜It looks like they’re friends!’
    The idea of the hare and the fox being friends makes the boy’s mother crane her head forwards. Her eyes are staring behind the lenses of her glasses.
    Finally it becomes too much for her and she slaps the palm of her hand against the pane of glass. The boy, who has climbed onto the table, jumps at the sound. She slaps the window again and then thumps it with her fist, making the glass rattle.
    â€˜Don’t do that!’ he wails.
    But the animals are not scared by the sound.
    They merely sit there.
    His mother fetches a couple of saucepans from the kitchen, but on her way to the door she exchanges one of them for the axe.
    The animals jerk when the door flies open and the woman comes out onto the step. They move apart slightly but they do not run away. She calls to the boy to stay inside, but he disobeys her. He pads out behind her. He also wants to see.
    There is a clang, cling, clang! as the axe hits the saucepan.
    Stamping her feet, she strides forwards.
    The fox stands up and runs a short distance away, looking at her over its shoulder. Its legs are bent and its chest is down in the grass. Its ears fold back, its nose wrinkles and its lips curl. The sight of the yellow teeth dripping with saliva brings his mother to a halt, but only for an instant, because she then rushes towards them waving the axe. The fox slinks away between the fence posts and disappears.
    But the hare sits as if nailed to the spot. It looks as if it is forcing its skinny shanks to be still. It is shuddering and gaping, and yellow shards of teeth are visible in its sloping lower jaw. Its ears are black-tipped and ragged.
    Not until she is standing directly over it does the hare leap aside, remarkably elongated. It runs in a loop around them, coming so close to the boy that he cries out. After that it rushes off, like a shudder in the grass.
    His mother is breathing heavily through her nose. Her forehead and cheekbones are oily with sweat and her nostrils are shiny. Her lips are pressed tightly together.
    The boy inundates her with questions. What he wants to know most of all is why she chased the animals away. Instead of answering she shoves him ahead of her into the cabin, and when they are inside she locks the door.
    Â 
    â€˜There was something wrong with them,’ she says, cutting up his sausage. It surprises him that she is cutting up his food because she is always nagging him to do it himself. ‘They were sick. Do you understand?’
    Her voice sounds tense and her gaze keeps wandering to the window. She has not put any food on her plate yet. It is shiny, and empty apart from some scratches. There are still flickers of sunlight in the grass down at the bottom of the path, but below the trees everything has become black and intertwined.
    After a moment she leans forwards, staring at him.
    â€˜Do you want to go home?’
    The boy has stuffed his mouth full of macaroni.
    He eats and looks at her.
    â€˜Do you?’ he asks, reaching for his glass of milk.
    Then she snorts and small wrinkly lines form round her eyes.
    Â 
    He should have gone to bed ages ago, but it seems she has forgotten all about him as he sits by the wood burner. The cork flooring where he is sitting is scattered with splinters of wood and small strips torn from a newspaper. He has pulled up one leg and is resting his chin on his kneecap. The little figures are lined up. He is planning some kind of competition.
    His mother has remained at the table, looking out through the window. She has turned to stone over there, her back hunched and her elbows resting on the tabletop, which is why he jumps when she suddenly stands up. The chair scrapes the floor, almost toppling over behind her.
    The boy stares.
    â€˜What is it?’ he asks.
    But she does not reply. She just continues staring out of the window.
    He walks up to her.
    â€˜Is