The Hypnotist (49 page)

Benjamin is lying on the floor, listening to the rocking chair creak stickily against the shiny surface of the plastic mat. His joints ache painfully, an ache that has intensified over the past few days. The chair rocks slowly back and forth. The wind blows across the tin roof. Suddenly the crude hinge on the porch door sings its metallic song. Heavy footsteps approach down the hall. Someone stamps the snow off their boots. Benjamin raises his head, but the dog leash tightens around his neck when he tries to see who has come into the room.

“Lie down,” Lydia murmurs.

He lowers his head to the floor, once again feeling the long coarse pile of the woven rug against his cheek, the dry smell of dust filling his nose.

“It’s the fourth Sunday in Advent in three days,” says Jussi. “We ought to make ginger biscuits.”

“Sundays are for discipline and nothing else,” says Lydia, continuing to rock.

Marek grins at something but doesn’t speak.

“Go on, laugh,” says Lydia.

“It was nothing.”

“Laugh,” says Lydia, her voice subdued. “I want my family to be happy.”

“We are,” Marek replies.

The floor is cold, and a cold draft seeps through the walls. The dust bunnies among the cables behind the television are drifting around. Benjamin is still wearing only his pyjamas. He thinks back to their arrival at Jussi’s haunted house. There was already snow on the ground, and since then it has snowed, thawed, and frozen hard again. Marek led him through an area crammed with dilapidated vehicles at the front of the house, old buses covered in snow and scrap cars piled high. The snow burned Benjamin’s bare feet. It felt like walking in a dry moat between the great heaps of snow-covered cars in the failing light.

There was a light on in the house, and when Jussi came out onto the porch, his elk gun over his arm, and caught sight of Lydia, it was as if all his determination abandoned him. She was not expected, nor was she welcome. But he was not about to offer any resistance, he would simply submit to her will, as usual. He merely shook his head when Marek took the gun from him.

Then there were footsteps on the porch, and Annbritt came out. Jussi had mumbled that Annbritt was his partner and they ought to let her go. When Annbritt saw the dog collar and leash around Benjamin’s neck, the colour drained from her face and she tried to go back into the house and shut the door, but Marek stopped her by inserting the barrel of the gun between the door and the frame and asked her with a smile if they might come in.

“Shall we discuss Christmas dinner?” Annbritt asks now, her voice uncertain.

“The most important things are the herring and the boar,” says Jussi.

Lydia sighs irritably. Benjamin gazes up at the gold-coloured ceiling fan, four gold lamps clustered beneath the blades. Its shadow looks like a grey flower against the white ceiling.

“I expect the boy will want meatballs,” says Jussi.

“We’ll see,” Lydia replies.

Marek spits into a potted plant and looks out into the darkness. “I’m getting hungry,” he says.

“We’ve got plenty of elk and venison in the freezer,” says Jussi.

Marek goes over to the table, pokes about in the bread basket, breaks off a piece, and stuffs it in his mouth.

When Benjamin looks up, Lydia automatically yanks the leash. He coughs and puts his head down again. He is hungry and tired.

“I need my medicine soon,” he says.

“You’ll be just fine,” replies Lydia.

“I have to have an injection once a week, and it’s been more than a week since— ”

“Shut up.”

“I’ll die if I don’t.”

Lydia jerks the leash so hard that Benjamin whimpers with pain. He starts to cry, and she jerks it again to shut him up.

Marek switches on the television; it makes a crackling noise and a distant voice can be heard; it could be a soccer game. Marek flicks between the channels without getting a picture and switches it off.

“I should have brought the TV from the other house,” he says.

“It’s not the TV. There just aren’t any cable channels up here,” says Jussi.

“You’re an idiot,” says Lydia.

“Why doesn’t the dish work?” asks Marek.

“I don’t know,” says Jussi. “It gets very windy here. It’s probably twisted.”

“Fix it then,” says Marek.

“You fix it!”

“Shut up,” says Lydia.

“There’s nothing but crap on television anyway,” Jussi mutters.

“I like
Let’s Dance
,” says Marek.

“Can I go to the toilet?” Benjamin asks quietly.

“You piss outside,” says Lydia.

“All right.”

“Take him out, Marek,” Lydia instructs.

“Jussi can do it,” he replies.

“Why can’t he go by himself?” complains Jussi. “He can’t run away, it’s minus five out there, and it’s a long way to— ”

“Get off your ass and go with him,” Lydia breaks in. “I’ll keep an eye on Annbritt in the meantime.”

Sitting up makes Benjamin feel dizzy. He sees that Jussi has taken the dog leash from Lydia. Benjamin’s knees are stiff, and a sharp pain shoots up his thighs when he starts to walk. Every step is unbearable, but he grits his teeth in an effort to remain silent. He doesn’t want to annoy Lydia.

There are diplomas hanging along the wall in the hall. Dim light comes from a brass sconce with a frosted glass shade. A plastic bag from the ICA supermarket with the words quality, courtesy, service has been dropped on the cork-coloured vinyl floor.

“I need to take a shit,” says Jussi, letting go of the leash. “Wait on the porch when you come back.”

Jussi clutches his belly, disappears into the bathroom, puffing and blowing, and locks the door behind him. Benjamin can see Annbritt’s curved, strong back through the gap in the door. He hears Marek rhapsodizing about Greek pizza.

Lydia’s dark green padded jacket is hanging on a hook in the hallway. Benjamin looks around and then goes through the pockets rapidly, finding the house keys, a gold-coloured purse, and his own mobile. The battery is very low, but there should be enough life in it for at least one call. His heart quickening, he creeps out into the bitter cold. The snow has been cleared from the path leading down to the woodshed, and he sets off on his bare feet, trying to ignore the pain in his aching joints. In the darkness he can just make out the round shapes of the snow-covered cars and old buses in the yard. His hands are stiff and shaking with cold.

Reception is poor. He calls his mother’s number and presses the phone to his ear, his hand trembling. He hears the first crackling signal just as the door opens. It’s Jussi. They stare at each other. It doesn’t occur to Benjamin to hide the phone. Perhaps he ought to run, but where would he go? Jussi strides toward him, his face pale and agitated.

“Are you finished?” he asks loudly, looking behind him.

Jussi reaches Benjamin and looks him in the eye; they have made an agreement. He takes Benjamin’s phone and continues on down to the woodshed as Lydia emerges from the house.

“What are you two up to?” she asks, her voice oddly cheerful.

“I’m fetching some more wood,” Jussi shouts, hiding the phone in his inside pocket.

“I’m finished,” says Benjamin.

Lydia stands in the doorway and lets Benjamin into the house.

It’s almost pitch dark inside the woodshed. The only light comes from the pale blue display of the phone. Jussi sees that it shows mum. He puts it to his ear in time to hear someone answer.

“Hello?” says a man’s voice. “Hello?”

“Is that Erik?” asks Jussi.

“No, this is— ”

“My name is Jussi. Can you give Erik a message? This is important; we’re up here at my house, me and Lydia and Marek and— ”

A sudden guttural scream comes from the person who answered the phone. There is a sound of crashing and crackling, someone coughs, a woman whimpers and weeps; then there is silence. The connection is broken. Jussi stares at the phone in astonishment. Just as he thinks he might try someone else and begins scrolling through the numbers, the battery gives out. And then the woodshed door opens and Lydia steps inside.

“I could see your aura through the open door. It was completely blue,” she announces.

Jussi slips the phone into his back pocket and starts piling wood into a basket.

“You go on inside,” says Lydia. “I’ll do this.”

“Thanks,” he replies, leaving the shed.

On the way up to the house, he can see ice crystals in the snow sparkling in the light from the window. The snow makes a dry, creaking sound beneath his boots. Behind him he can hear an irregular shuffling, accompanied by a panting, sighing sound. Jussi just has time to think of his dog, Castro. He remembers when Castro was a puppy, the way he used to chase mice beneath the light, freshly fallen snow. Jussi is smiling to himself when a sudden blow to the back of his head makes him lurch forwards. He would land on his stomach, were it not for the fact that the axe, stuck in the back of his head, is pulling him backwards. He stands still, his arms dangling at his sides. Lydia jerks the axe and manages to pull it out. Jussi can feel the warmth of his own blood pouring down his neck and back. He drops to his knees, falls forwards, feels the snow against his face, kicks out with his legs, and rolls over onto his back so that he can stand. His field of vision is shrinking fast, but during his last conscious seconds he sees Lydia raising the axe above him again.

Benjamin is curled up against the wall behind the television. He feels scarily dizzy; he’s having trouble focusing his eyes. But the worst thing is the thirst. He’s thirstier than he’s ever been in his life. The hunger has abated. It hasn’t gone, it’s still there, a nagging ache in his gut. But it is completely overshadowed by thirst— thirst and the pain in his joints. The thirst is like being stabbed, as if his throat were full of open sores. He can barely swallow now; there is no saliva in his mouth. How many days has he been here, lying on this floor, in this house? Benjamin, Lydia, Marek, and Annbritt, in this one furnished room, doing nothing.

Benjamin listens to the faint tapping of the snow as it lands on the roof. He thinks about how Lydia made her way into his life, running after him one day as he was walking home from school.

“You forgot this,” she’d called, and handed him his hat.

He’d stopped and thanked her. She’d given him a strange look and said, “You’re Benjamin, aren’t you?”

He asked her how she knew his name.

She’d stroked his hair. “Oh, dear boy. I called you Kasper.” And when he’d looked at her uncomprehendingly, she’d added, “I’m your real mother. I gave birth to you. Haven’t they told you?” She opened her bag and gave him a little pale-blue crocheted outfit. “I made this for you when you were in my belly,” she whispered.

He explained that his name was Benjamin Peter Bark and he couldn’t be her child. He’d tried to speak to her calmly and kindly. She listened with a smile on her face, then shook her head sorrowfully.

“Ask your parents,” she had said to him. “Ask them if you really are their child. You can ask, but they won’t tell you the truth. They couldn’t have children. You’ll be able to tell that they’re lying. They’ll lie because they’re afraid of losing you. You’re not their biological child. I can tell you about your real background. You’re mine. Can’t you see how alike we are? I was forced to give you up for adoption.”

“But I’m not adopted.”

“I knew it. I knew they wouldn’t tell you,” she said.

He thought about it and suddenly realized that she could actually be telling the truth; he had felt different for a long time.

Lydia smiled at him. “I can’t prove it to you. You have to trust your own instincts, you have to explore your feelings. Then you’ll realize it’s true.”

They parted, but he’d met up with her again the following day. They went to a café and sat talking for a long time. She told him how she had been forced to give him up for adoption but had never forgotten him. She had thought about him every day since he was born and was taken away from her. She had yearned for him every minute of her life.

Benjamin had told Aida everything, and they’d agreed that it was best if Erik and Simone knew nothing about what he’d learned until he had thought the whole thing through. He wanted to get to know Lydia first. It could be true, couldn’t it? Lydia contacted him via Aida’s e-mail and sent him the picture of the family grave.

“I want you to know who you are, Kasper,” she said. “This is the resting place of your family. One day we’ll go there together, just you and me.”

Benjamin started to believe her. He wanted to. She was exciting. It felt strange for him to be so wanted, so loved. She had given him money and small mementoes from her childhood, she had given him books and a camera, and he had given her drawings and things he had collected when he was a child.

She had even stopped Wailord from hassling him. One day she simply handed him a piece of paper on which Wailord had written that he gave his word never to come near Benjamin or his friends again. His parents would never have been able to achieve something like that. He was becoming more and more convinced that Erik and Simone— people he had believed throughout his whole life— were liars. It annoyed him that they never talked to him, never really showed him what he meant to them.

He had been so incredibly stupid.

Then Lydia had started to talk about coming to the apartment, about visiting him at home. She wanted his keys. He didn’t really understand why. He said he could let her in if she rang the doorbell, but she got angry with him. She said she would have to punish him if he didn’t do as he was told. Her outburst surprised and scared him. She explained that when he was very small she had given his adoptive parents something called a ferrule as a sign that she wanted them to give him a proper upbringing. Then she took his keys out of his backpack and said the whole conversation was ridiculous; she would be the one to decide when she visited her own child.

That was when he realized there was something not quite right about Lydia.

The next day when she was waiting for him, he simply went up to her and told her as calmly as he could that he wanted his keys back and he didn’t want to see her again.

“Of course, Kasper,” she’d said. “You must have your keys.” She reached into her bag and handed them to him.

He headed off, but she followed him. He stopped and waited for her and told her she hadn’t understood: he didn’t want to see her again.

Benjamin peers down at his body. A large bruise has appeared on his knee. If his mother saw that, she’d go crazy, he thinks.

Marek is staring out the window as usual. He inhales deeply through his nose and spits on the window in the direction of Jussi’s body, out in the snow. Annbritt is slumped at the table. She is trying to stop crying; she swallows, clears her throat, and makes a hiccuping sound. When she came out and saw Lydia kill Jussi, she screamed and screamed until Marek pointed the gun at her and said he would kill her if she made one more sound.

There is no sign of Lydia. Benjamin thinks hard for a moment, then painfully raises himself into a sitting position. He says hoarsely, “Marek, I need to tell you something.”

Marek looks over at Benjamin with eyes as black as peppercorns; then he gets down on the floor and starts doing push-ups. “What do you want, you little shit?”

Benjamin swallows, his throat agonizingly sore. “Jussi told me Lydia’s going to kill you,” he says. “She was going to take him first, then Annbritt, then you.”

Marek continues with his push-ups, counting under his breath, and gets up with a sigh. “You’re a funny little shit, aren’t you.”

“He said she only wants me. She wants to be alone with me. It’s true.”

“Oh, is it really?”

“Yes. Jussi said she told him what she was going to do. She was going to start by killing him, and now he’s— ”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Are you just going to sit here waiting until it’s your turn?” Benjamin asks. “She doesn’t care about you. She thinks this would be a better family if it was just me and her.”

“Did Jussi really say she was going to kill me?” Marek asks.

“I promise, she’s going to— ”

Marek laughs loudly. “I’ve already heard everything anyone can say to avoid pain,” he says with a grin. “All the promises, all the tricks, all the deals, and all the ruses.” He turns indifferently to face the window.

Benjamin sighs. He’s trying to come up with something else to say when Lydia walks in. Her mouth is a thin, strained line and her face is pale. She is holding something behind her back.

“So a week has passed and it’s Sunday again,” she states ceremoniously, closing her eyes.

“The fourth Sunday in Advent,” Annbritt whispers.

“I would like us to relax and reflect upon the past week,” Lydia says slowly. “Jussi left us three days ago. He is no longer among the living; his soul is travelling on one of the seven wheels of heaven. He will be torn to pieces for his treachery, through thousands of incarnations as a beast of slaughter and an insect.” She pauses. “Have you reflected?” she asks, after a while. They nod, and Lydia smiles contentedly. “Kasper, come here,” she says quietly.

Benjamin tries to get to his feet, making a real effort not to grimace with the pain, but still Lydia asks, “Are you making faces at me?”

“No,” he whispers.

“We are a family, and we respect one another.”

“Yes,” he replies, his voice full of tears.

Lydia smiles and produces the object she has been hiding behind her back.