Authors: Sara B. Elfgren & Mats Strandberg
Vanessa searches her mind. Is there any little hint of jealousy or resentment of Wille and his Elin? She can’t find anything. Only relief that she isn’t in Elin’s place.
She wants to go home with Linnéa and be close to her again. They have too many important things to talk about to waste their time together on stupid rows. And what they have together is too wonderful to ruin. She turns to Linnéa to tell her this.
‘I’m going home now,’ Linnéa says.
‘I’ll come with you.’
‘I’m tired. I’d rather go to sleep.’
Vanessa looks at her. If Linnéa leaves now, something between them might be ruined forever.
‘We must talk,’ Vanessa persists.
‘Don’t you think we’ve done enough of that for one day?’ Linnéa sneers.
That sinking feeling. Sinking all the way down into her shoes.
‘Yes,’ Vanessa says. ‘I guess we have.’
It is only when Linnéa has disappeared out of sight that Vanessa is struck by a new thought.
Evelina and Michelle are bound to have known all along about Wille and the baby. And neither of them has said a word.
Minoo curls up in her corner of the sofa and pulls the blanket up to her chin. She would prefer to pull it over her head. By now, she is about to implode.
All the way back from Nicolaus’s flat, she longed to get home. Longed for a quiet, ordinary evening, thinking about something that had nothing to do with Walter, or the guardians, or dropping out of school, or Nicolaus, Linnéa and the box she now has to find.
You should be careful what you wish for.
All her blood seems to have rushed to her ears and made them hypersensitive to the slightest sound. They pick up every groan, every little moist slurp, with crystalline precision. She fixes her eyes on the lowermost left-hand corner of the TV screen. All she sees are fluttering close-ups of assorted nakedness.
Aren’t they ever going to finish? How long can people actually keep at it for?
The film evening has turned out to be the perfect end to the day. When she wakes tomorrow morning, her face will be a mass of stress pimples. She can feel them rising now, like bubbles popping up to the surface of boiling water.
Mum sits at the other end of the sofa. She is completely silent. Anna-Karin hasn’t moved at all in the armchair since this apparently never-ending sex scene started. The tea that Minoo rushed away to make when the previous never-ending sex scene began is cooling in their cups.
She asks herself if it’s silly of her to feel so bothered. Does watching this sort of thing become less embarrassing after one has had sex oneself? Less dramatic, somehow? But then again, sex never seems to be
not
dramatic. Certainly not for the couple in this film, that’s for sure. They get excited by throwing china at each other.
A sad, tinkling tune from a piano and the screen goes black. Then, at last, the credits start to roll.
‘Sometimes I simply don’t understand the critics,’ Mum says. ‘What do you think? Wasn’t it unbelievably banal?’
‘I’m just going to get some water,’ Anna-Karin mumbles. She disappears quickly to the kitchen.
Minoo stays where she is while Mum zaps between the channels, then stops for a news item about the phenomenon in the sky over Engelsfors. They watch a clip that someone has filmed with a mobile phone, and listen to a woman talk excitedly to a child in broad local dialect. The reporter is speaking vaguely about the remains of an ash cloud after a volcanic eruption.
‘This is so strange, don’t you think?’ Mum’s eyes are glued to the screen.
‘I suppose,’ Minoo says. ‘But what else could it be?’
‘No idea. But it’s quite spooky, whatever it is.’
A doctor at the hospital in Engelsfors is the next to be interviewed. She explains that several children and young people have suffered lasting eye damage after looking directly at the sun during the dark phase.
The report finishes. The news presenter carries on with the next item, unaware that she has just discussed a portent that heralds the end of the world.
‘You’re sure, aren’t you, that you didn’t look at the sun?’ Mum asks. ‘The adverse effects don’t necessarily show until hours later.’
‘Not to worry,’ Minoo replies. ‘I didn’t look at all.’
She hears Anna-Karin stacking the dishwasher.
‘How was your first day of the final year, Minoo?’
‘Fine,’ Minoo says. She starts plaiting fringes on the plaid.
‘Fine? Can’t you tell me a little more than that?’
Minoo looks up from the plaid and regrets it immediately. Her mum is looking at her with an expression that always makes her nervous whenever there’s something she’d rather not talk about. But she has to say something. Mum returns to Stockholm tomorrow.
‘How are things, Minoo?’
Minoo realises just how much she will miss going to school. She will miss doing homework. And doing tests. She will even miss her class, even though Anna-Karin is the only person she really likes. She will miss everything that makes her feel like an ordinary teenager.
From now on, until the portal is closed, her life will be focused on one thing only.
‘You must take care,’ Mum says. ‘I worry about you. You demand so much of yourself. I know, I was just the same. And so was your dad. I know that the final year is tough – you’re chasing exam results all the time – but everything will be all right. You’ll find your way. I know you will.’
Minoo undoes the plait. And starts again.
‘
Khayesh mikhonam, be man negah kon
,’ Mum says, and Minoo looks up unwillingly. ‘Would you like it if I moved back here? At least until you’ve left school? Would life feel easier if I did?’
‘I want to have a sabbatical year,’ Minoo tells her.
She didn’t realise she would say this until she hears her own voice utter the words.
‘I mean, I am
going to
take a year out.’
Mum looks shocked, but only for a moment. She has clearly realised that Minoo is serious.
She pulls herself together. ‘Has something happened?’
‘I feel I must,’ Minoo says. ‘I’ve been so stressed for such a long time …’
She looks down at her lap while she tries to remember all the warning signs that Mum has talked about in the past when she has been worried about Minoo.
‘It’s so hard for me to concentrate on anything and I feel a sort of pressure on my chest as soon as I think about school. It seems as if I never have enough time for everything. I feel like I’m treading water, just managing to stay afloat.’
‘This is exactly what has been worrying me, Minoo. But taking an entire year off seems a bit drastic. Perhaps we can work something out together to ease the burden of work.’
Mum is in ‘doctor mode’ now.
‘But it’s not just that,’ Minoo says, hesitating before using her most effective weapon. ‘Rebecka and Ida. And everything that’s happened to Anna-Karin and Linnéa …’
She can’t go on. She has never before manipulated her mother so deliberately. She feels so guilty her skin crawls.
‘Oh, my darling.’ Mum puts her arm around Minoo and pulls her close.
‘I’ll talk with your dad tonight,’ she says. ‘And then all three of us can discuss this tomorrow when he is back. We’ll sort it out, Minoo.’
The doorbell interrupts them. Minoo hears Anna-Karin open the door, and then Rickard’s voice.
The door closes, and Anna-Karin comes back into the sitting room.
‘Rickard and Gustaf are here,’ she says. ‘They are waiting in the garden.’
Moths are fluttering around the lamps by the garden door. Gustaf and Rickard have settled down on chairs. Minoo hasn’t seen either of them for months. And she hardly dares to look at Gustaf now. Instead, she concentrates on not putting her foot on any of the slugs on the lawn.
‘Hi, Minoo,’ Gustaf and Rickard say in unison.
‘Hello,’ Minoo says, checking that no slugs have got into the hammock before she sits down on it with Anna-Karin.
She glances at Gustaf. Just quickly, but long enough for her to take in every detail. Even in this dim light, she notes that his hair is bleached by the sun. He is wearing a grey college sweatshirt and his military green jacket.
‘We want to help you,’ he says. ‘I should have moved to Uppsala this week but I’ve decided to stay in Engelsfors.’
He appears to be sincere and full of determination. Minoo imagines that young, idealistic soldiers look like this when they join up, before they realise what war entails.
But she is being unfair, of course. Gustaf has already suffered in the war. More than once.
‘Me too,’ Rickard adds. ‘How can we just leave this place when we know what’s about to happen here?’
He looks as determined as Gustaf.
A wave of panic washes through Minoo. This could end in catastrophe. It could end in death. She can’t have it on her conscience.
‘You mustn’t stay here,’ she says.
‘It’s not like it matters where we are when the apocalypse comes,’ Rickard says. He swats at a mosquito that has landed on his neck.
‘There won’t be an apocalypse.’ Minoo is trying hard to sound authoritative. ‘We will stop it. It’s our job. But so much will happen here before we do. Engelsfors will be dangerous.’
‘So much more reason for us to stay, then,’ Rickard says. ‘There must be
something
we can do.’
Minoo takes a deep breath. She must make them understand. Even if it means ditching her last chance to keep Gustaf as a friend.
‘Do you really want to help?’
‘Yes,’ Gustaf says, and Rickard nods.
‘In that case, please leave. Because we will do a much better job if we don’t have to worry about you running around playing at being superheroes.’
‘Minoo …’ Anna-Karin interjects.
Minoo ignores her.
‘Don’t you see, you have nothing to offer in these battles? Not against the demons and not against the Council either. Being the best football players in Engelsfors doesn’t help: this is about
magic
. You are not witches – you haven’t a hope. If you insist on staying, you will cause more harm than good.’
She stops speaking.
Gustaf and Rickard stare at her. Anna-Karin’s hair is hiding her face. Minoo’s heart is hammering hard in her chest.
‘It doesn’t matter what you say. You don’t decide this,’ Rickard says. He gets up. ‘Let’s go, Gustaf.’
‘I’ll stay for a while,’ Gustaf says.
Rickard wanders off through the garden. Anna-Karin mumbles something about going to bed and walks away.
Minoo can’t bear to look at Gustaf again. She feels the hammock swing when he sits down next to her.
Once, he had spoken of the energy between two people who love each other. And now, Minoo can feel an energy field between them. She isn’t sure if it’s just her who feels it, but it is so strong it is difficult to think of anything else.
‘I understand what you’re trying to do,’ he tells her. ‘But it won’t work. Your only hope of making me leave town is to take my memories away again.’
‘I don’t want to do that,’ Minoo says. ‘Do you want me to?’
‘No, I don’t. I have thought about it, I really have. But knowing the truth is better.’
He sits in silence for a while and swings the hammock lightly back and forth.
‘I’m sorry I haven’t handled all this very well,’ he says at last.
‘You don’t have to apologise.’
‘Maybe not, but I want to do it anyway,’ Gustaf goes on. ‘I shouldn’t have stayed away from you for so long. Everything feels better now, just because I can see you.’
‘I feel the same,’ Minoo says, and feels blood rushing to her face.
Another silence.
‘I understand so much more now,’ Gustaf says. ‘Things keep falling into place. Once, when I was with Rebecka at her house, a candle seemed to light itself. Of course, I thought it was my imagination.’
‘She told me,’ Minoo says. ‘But she hoped you hadn’t noticed.’
‘I noticed, but didn’t grasp what was going on. I bought the easy explanation. As I kept doing, over and over again.’
Minoo looks at him.
‘I believed that she had taken her own life,’ he tells her. ‘I just believed it without questioning. I never asked if anyone might have killed her.’
Gustaf sighs deeply.
‘When you watch a film, you want to be like the hero. You like to think that you would be the guy that demands answers, sees the truth when no one else does … and then you find out that you’re not him at all.’
‘But you are him. Only, you expect too much of yourself.’
‘And you don’t?’
Minoo laughs a little. Gustaf smiles.
‘It’s so good that we can talk about all this,’ he says. ‘It’s almost like last winter … except, I wasn’t talking to you, but to Ida. Christ, this is all so weird.’
‘I know,’ Minoo agrees.
When she looks at him, the energy between them is so strong. She can’t be the only one to sense it.
‘Minoo, what happened to the sun today?’
She tells him. More and more. All about the other circle and about Nicolaus and her conflict with Linnéa. It is wonderful to tell someone. Correction, it’s wonderful to tell Gustaf. There is something special about the way he listens.
‘You guys have to make such difficult decisions all the time,’ he says. ‘I don’t understand why you don’t crack up under the strain.’
‘I’m not sure that we won’t,’ Minoo says. ‘It feels as if everything is falling apart.’
Today, Linnéa was so much like the person she had been in the first year at senior school, when Minoo first got to know her. Hard. Unrepentant. Quick to judge and to wound. Now, her tactics are doubly painful because Minoo had thought they had moved on and become friends.
‘Today, when the sun disappeared, I woke up to what you told me,’ Gustaf says. ‘I realised that it is
happening
. It made me feel utterly helpless, until I thought that perhaps I could do something, even if it’s something small.’
‘I understand.’
And she does now. She has no right to try to make him go. Besides, she is past being selfless. She wants him to be here, with her.
‘Another thing I understood today is that I’ve wasted far too much time,’ he continues. His voice trembles a little.
Their eyes meet and something vital inside her seems to contract.