The Circle (Hammer)

by Elfgren, Sara B. ,Strandberg, Mats

  ‘Merry Christmas,’ Minoo croaks. She has to muster all her self-discipline to stop herself running the rest of the way to the car.

  They celebrate Christmas, just the three of them – mother, father and Minoo – and the holiday is characterised by the same safe routines as always. On Christmas Day they have a good long lie-in. They play a Trivial Pursuit from the 1990s, and as usual her father is annoyed by the badly formulated questions. Afterwards Minoo goes up to her room and looks at her presents. The one she is most pleased with is a lavish book of Pre-Raphaelite paintings.

  Exactly the one she’d wanted.

  She sits at the head of the bed, semi-recumbent against the colourful pillows, and rests the book on her knees. She flips past the images of pale, serious women and men in clothes from bygone times and lingers on a painting of Ophelia from Hamlet – a girl in a white dress lying on her back in a stream, about to drown. The image makes her angry. Ophelia is filled with bliss and there’s something almost erotic about the painting – as if it was somehow delightful or sexy that Hamlet’s girlfriend had drowned herself when everyone she’d trusted had let her down or died.

  Minoo keeps flipping the pages, and when she comes to Rossetti’s painting of Persephone, she is mesmerised.

  So this is how she looked. The girl Max loved. The one who had killed herself. Minoo knows that the human psyche is complicated, that there are no simple answers or solutions, but part of her cannot understand how someone loved by Max could be so unhappy.

  She puts down the book and closes her eyes. Once again she revisits the events of that evening at Max’s house, but she lets them take another turn. Max doesn’t break off the kiss, but continues, lets his hand slip underneath her shirt and over her breasts …

  But it’s hard to relax and lose herself in the fantasy. She feels watched, as if someone is peering into her mind and can see the adult film being screened there.

  Minoo listens. Her mother is clattering in the kitchen. She’s in a bad mood again –you can hear it in the way she’s emptying the dishwasher. Her parents have had a fight about how they think the other is working too hard again. Her father has gone back to the newspaper to check the material that’ll be printed after the holiday.

  Minoo gets up and goes into the bathroom. She looks at the old map of Engelsfors where Kärrgruvan has been blotted out since the night of the blood-red moon. She puts up her hair in a ponytail before bending over the sink and lathering her face. She rinses it with ice-cold water and examines herself in the mirror.

  A black shadow moves silently through the air behind her and disappears through the bathroom door. It had had no form. It might have been a cloud of black smoke, or those spots you see when you’ve rubbed your eyes too hard.

  She opens the door and looks out at the dark landing. Nothing. Just her imagination, she tells herself.

  *

  ‘Merry Christmas, bitches!’ Vanessa shouts. She turns up the volume on the amp connected to the computer and climbs on to the table. Then she helps Evelina and Michelle up. They almost bump into each other as they dance. Vanessa steadies herself with the palm of her hand against the ceiling. Her top rises above her belly-button as she rocks to the music. Her heels dig into the soft, cheap pine of Jonte’s kitchen table.

  She and Evelina are dancing close to each other and Michelle sinks to her haunches, shakes her butt and rises again. The boys watch with a horny glint in their eyes, but Vanessa ignores them. She looks at her friends, her two best friends in the world. An old song by Beyoncé and Jay-Z has started to play, and all three squeal with delight. They used to dance to it in Vanessa’s living room when they were little – at her house they could play music at full blast – and her mother had liked it so much that she used to come in and dance with them. Evelina and Michelle thought Vanessa’s mum was the coolest in the whole world, and back then so did Vanessa. Of course that was BN: Before Nicke.

  The happy feeling dies a little when she thinks of her mother. This is the first Christmas they haven’t celebrated together.

  ‘Nessa!’ Evelina shouts over the music. ‘How are you feeling?’

  Vanessa meets her drunken gaze. If anyone would understand it’s Evelina. Since her parents were divorced, her mother has dated every arsehole there is in Engelsfors. For a few months in year seven, Evelina had virtually lived at Vanessa’s house. That was when her mum’s latest flame had offered to help Evelina wash certain difficult-to-reach places in the shower, a level of degeneracy to which Nicke had never come close.

  Yeah, Evelina would understand. Michelle too, for that matter. But who wants to talk about that shit?

  ‘Fucking awesome!’ Vanessa screams back, and flashes a blinding smile.

  She’s going to forget all this crap and party like there’s no tomorrow. After all, there might not be. May as well take advantage of it. When Michelle hands her a can of beer, she chugalugs it and then hurls it across the room, hitting Lucky in the back.

  Her engagement ring catches her eye.

  Everything’s going to be fine, she thinks. Everything’s going to work out.

  Wille breaks free from the throngs of partiers and stands below her. His eyelids are heavy and he’s got a silly smile on his face. Vanessa squats, wobbles unsteadily, takes his face in her hands and kisses him hard. He tastes of smoke and alcohol, and his tongue is warm and wet in her mouth. She sits on the edge of the table, wraps her legs around Wille’s waist and pulls him closer to her. Then she puts her arms around his neck. A slow song she has never heard before filters out of the speakers.

  ‘You’re so fucking sexy,’ he whispers.

  His warm breath against her ear radiates through her body. She sucks his lower lip and bites it. He laughs.

  ‘Watch it,’ he whispers, and lets his hands slide down to her butt.

  ‘Do you want to go somewhere else?’ she says.

  Wille doesn’t answer. He lifts her down from the table. They hug each other. The song builds, filling the room, as they hold each other. The music is like a bubble that encapsulates her and Wille, while everyone else fades into the background. The only thing in the world that means anything is right here right now, in the warmth of their bodies pressed together.

  ‘We should go away,’ Wille whispers, into her ear. ‘Fuck school. Let’s go to Thailand. You hardly need any money there. Just lie on the beach all day long. Fuck and smoke all night. Just you and me. That’s all we need.’

  She’s never been to Thailand, but she can see it so clearly: white beaches, sparkling blue sea, Wille’s suntanned body, never having to feel cold again. To run away from everything, from her mother, from fear, from magic books and heavy responsibilities. Why not?

  The song cuts out abruptly and changes back to hip-hop.

  ‘Come on,’ Vanessa whispers. She takes Wille’s hand and leads him to the stairs. When she glances over her shoulder she sees that Evelina and Michelle are still standing on the table. They’re boogieing drunkenly, but still managing to look sexy. Lucky is kissing a blue-haired girl, one of Linnéa’s friends. But Linnéa is nowhere to be seen.

  ‘I love you,’ Wille says, as they sink on to Jonte’s bed.

  She rips off her sweaty top while he unbuttons her jeans, pulls them down over her thighs and calves, then struggles to get her feet out. He takes off his T-shirt and lies down next to her.

  ‘You mean it?’ Vanessa murmurs.

  ‘That I love you?’

  ‘That you’d like to go away with me. Just like that.’

  ‘Let’s leave tomorrow,’ Wille whispers, slurring a little. ‘We don’t even have to pack. We don’t need any clothes.’

  He tries to wriggle out of his jeans and falls off the bed. Vanessa laughs and helps him up. She kisses him and lets her hand caress him outside his boxers. Wille groans and coaxes off her pants, kisses her breasts, stomach and continues downward.

  Vanessa doesn’t care about what’s happened, doesn’t care about the future. Only Wille means anything to he
r, and how he can make her forget everything.

  Afterwards, Wille goes to look for a beer. She pulls on her clothes and notices that her top smells of smoke. She heads into the bathroom for a pee and touches up her makeup. She finds a half-full bottle of wine under the sink and has a few swigs as she gets ready. She blows exaggerated kisses at the mirror, poses, flashes her breasts at herself and giggles. She’s nearly hammered.

  When she opens the door, Linnéa is standing outside, leaning against the wall, smoking a cigarette. She’s wearing a short black dress with a corset top, fishnet stockings and black boots. Her eyes are heavily made-up underneath her long black fringe. They gaze at each other.

  ‘You look a bit worn out,’ Linnéa says finally, with a smirk.

  ‘Kind of you to say so,’ Vanessa says, and grins back.

  She’s unexpectedly happy to see Linnéa. Tonight seems like one long love trip. She wonders vaguely if someone put ecstasy in the wine she just drank.

  ‘Worn out, but hot,’ Linnéa adds.

  ‘You look hot, too,’ Vanessa says. ‘But not worn out.’

  ‘Only on the inside.’ Linnéa smiles.

  Vanessa wonders if Linnéa’s drunk. She’s probably the sort of person who never really shows it.

  ‘Things got pretty … intense last time,’ Linnéa says, and Vanessa wonders if that’s her way of saying, ‘Sorry I acted like a bloodthirsty maniac.’

  Linnéa laughs, showing off her perfect teeth.

  Shit, she really is hot, Vanessa thinks.

  ‘But I meant it,’ Linnéa continues. ‘We can’t trust the principal. She really can’t protect us.’

  Vanessa lays her hand on Linnéa’s arm and stares into her dark eyes. She’s feeling a bit dizzy. Crap, she shouldn’t have drunk that wine. But she can’t let Linnéa see how drunk she is because then Linnéa will never take her seriously, and what she’s going to say now is important. ‘Even if that’s true it doesn’t make any difference. We have to stick together. We promised each other.’

  Linnéa’s arm is cool, and suddenly Vanessa is worried that her hand is sweaty. She removes it and almost loses her balance.

  ‘Speaking of which,’ Linnéa says, ‘we’re not the only ones here tonight.’

  Vanessa doesn’t understand what she means.

  ‘There’s another witch in the house,’ Linnéa whispers theatrically. Then she adds, more seriously, ‘And we should probably go and see what she’s up to.’

  39

  JARI OPENS A can of beer with a frothy hiss and hands it to Anna-Karin. Carefully, she licks away the foam that has flowed over the edge and takes a big gulp. It doesn’t taste very nice, but it’s not disgusting either. It’s bitter and a little metallic. She has a few more gulps and suppresses a burp.

  Most of the people here are older. They’ve never been affected by Anna-Karin’s powers, and it’s hard to control them, now they’re filling the house with their clumsy movements. They’re swaying back and forth in small groups everywhere, falling into each other, talking far too loudly. Anna-Karin can’t get a proper hold on the minds of people under the influence of alcohol and, she suspects, other substances.

  The music is deafening. She finishes the beer and crumples the can. Jari takes it and immediately hands her another one. She smiles gratefully.

  ‘Cheers,’ he says.

  ‘Cheers.’

  The beer cans meet in the air and she tips her head back to let the drink run down her throat. It’s surprisingly easy to get used to the taste.

  Anna-Karin is starting to relax. She lets go of her control a little. It doesn’t really matter what anyone here thinks of her, as long as Jari looks at her like that.

  She feels quite attractive tonight. She’s wearing a short bright pink dress with silver glitter. It has a low neckline and fits tightly around her breasts while concealing her stomach. Julia and Felicia thought she should choose something that was tight all the way down, but Anna-Karin wasn’t up for that.

  Some drunken guy yells, ‘Looks like a pig’s escaped the Christmas slaughter!’ He points at her, and his friends laugh. Anna-Karin feels a familiar stab in her gut. It’s been a long time since anyone has said anything like that to her – she had almost forgotten how much it hurt.

  She empties the beer can in silence and wonders about a suitable act of revenge. Jari is still gazing at her with rapt adoration.

  Come here. Show them.

  Jari throws himself at her. It’s as if he’s been longing for her for a hundred years and can’t contain himself for another second. His lips press against hers. Then she feels the tip of his tongue in her mouth and opening it.

  ‘Jari, what the fuck, man? Are you serious?’ his friend says.

  But Jari doesn’t answer. He grabs Anna-Karin’s neck and pushes himself even harder against her. Her head is spinning while his tongue explores her mouth. She can barely keep up. It’s her first kiss and she feels as if she’s being eaten alive. But at least that guy and his friends have shut up. Now she has to breathe. She pulls away. ‘Could you get me another beer?’ she asks.

  Jari opens his eyes and smiles. Gratefully, as if he lives to fetch and carry for Anna-Karin, he trots away to fetch the beer, chilling in the snow outside.

  ‘Come on,’ someone hisses brusquely, pulling at her elbow.

  Vanessa.

  Anna-Karin allows herself to be led away. They pass Linnéa, and she follows them into a room where a few lads are sprawled on the floor playing video games. It’s comparatively quiet. They squeeze themselves into a corner of the room, as far from the boys as possible.

  ‘What the hell are you doing?’ Linnéa asks.

  ‘We saw your little show in there with Jari. What’s wrong with you?’ Vanessa snaps.

  They’re bullying her, forcing her into a corner and yelling accusations at her. Just because she doesn’t do exactly as they want. Do they expect her to go back to being the old Anna-Karin, the one who never dared look anyone in the eye, the one who was always alone?

  The throbbing bass line from the music vibrates through the walls of the room. The boys on the floor shout in unison when something explodes on the TV screen.

  Vanessa and Linnéa are standing far too close. Anna-Karin doesn’t know if two beers is a lot, she just knows she wants another. Now. ‘Leave me alone,’ she says. ‘I know what I’m doing.’

  ‘Do you really?’ Linnéa says.

  ‘I’ve got it under control.’

  ‘I don’t think you have,’ Linnéa says. ‘You’re getting addicted. And this whole thing with Jari, it’s—’

  ‘What business is it of yours if I’ve got a boyfriend?!’

  ‘None,’ Vanessa says. ‘You can have as many boyfriends as you like. Only Jari isn’t your boyfriend. You’ve used your power on him.’

  ‘Don’t think we don’t understand, Anna-Karin,’ says Linnéa. ‘I know what it is to be an outcast. I know what it’s like to want something you can never have.’

  Linnéa’s eyes are oozing syrupy pity. Anna-Karin can almost read her thoughts: Poor Anna-Karin. She’s so ugly and desperate that she has to use magic to get someone to want her. There’s nothing about her that anyone could like. And she might be able to fool everyone else, but we’ll always see her as she really is. The stupid, fat, disgusting, sweaty, flaccid, flabby, awkward, useless, loser hick she’s always been. She puts on a new dress and thinks she’s as good as anyone else. How fucking sad.

  ‘Go to hell,’ Anna-Karin says slowly.

  Her rage is so intense that it scares her. She jostles Vanessa as she pushes past her and throws open the door.

  The place is packed with people. Anna-Karin forces her way through the crowd, searching for Jari. The warm bodies form an impenetrable mass of flesh. It’s like one of those nightmares when you’re trying to run but can’t get anywhere. She ducks to avoid glowing cigarettes, jumps out of the way of beer spilling and searches for an opening in the throng. Eventually she can’t take it any more.


  Get out of my way, she commands.

  It’s like when Moses parted the Red Sea. Everyone takes a few steps to the side so that Anna-Karin has free passage. She breathes a sigh of relief. Now she can walk calmly through the building at her leisure while the others are crammed together like sardines, forming a heaving, living wall along her path.

  She searches for him everywhere but can’t find him. Eventually she crosses the hallway and opens what must be a door to the basement. She slips inside and closes the door behind her. A naked bulb lights the rough, unpainted pine planking that lines a staircase. Anna-Karin heads down it to another door, which she opens. Much of the little basement is occupied by a boiler and a huge freezer, each trying to drown the other’s loud humming. When she shuts the door, the music and loud voices dampen to a muffled drone.

  An old grandfather clock is propped against one wall, with a broken guitar and two sledges. The junk of everyday life. It smells of stone, damp and earth. On the other side of the room, a green metal door stands ajar. Anna-Karin knows instinctively that she shouldn’t go through it. Perhaps that’s why she can’t resist.

  The light nearly blinds her. The room is big and the walls are white. UV lamps hang from the ceiling above neat rows of green plants. It’s warm and damp, and she hears a monotonous whirring as if from electric fans.

  How strange, she thinks, that someone should grow vegetables in their basement. Then she understands. How naïve she is. The green plants growing beneath the lamps are cannabis. Or marijuana. Or is it the same thing? She has no idea.

  She looks at the table, which is cluttered with tools and a pile of well-thumbed instruction manuals. And, next to the manuals, a gun.

  Anna-Karin moves closer. The gun is black with a brown handle. It looks as if it’s been used.

  Just then she hears footsteps on the stairs and a door opening. Her eyes dart around nervously. The footsteps are coming closer. There’s nowhere to hide.

  A tall, lanky guy enters the room. He’s wearing a grey hat pulled down over his eyebrows. He has a dull yet intense look in his eyes. Anna-Karin knows instantly who it is. Jonte.