by Willow Rose
Was that why he left me? Did he finally have enough of my eating and gaining weight?
The thought made me eat more. With every bite I took, I felt more disgusted with myself, but I continued anyway. I could hear Morten’s voice in my head telling me to stop, telling me I was overeating because I was emotional, that I was simply drowning my emotions with food. I knew he was right; I just didn’t know what to do about it. I wasn’t the type who cried when things were bad in my life. I just wasn’t. This was what I did. Some people drank. I ate.
I would have eaten the entire cake, but had only managed about a third, when the doorbell suddenly rang. I swallowed the big bite I had just taken, drank some coffee to wash it down, and walked over to open the door. Part of me wished it was Morten who had come to say he wanted to come back, but I knew it wasn’t him. I had hoped for weeks now that he would come, but in vain. I wasn’t going to hope for it anymore. I had to focus on moving on, and right now, I had bigger issues than him. I had to figure out what to do to help my daughter get back to being herself again. Maybe I could get her a tutor? Someone to help her get better at her schoolwork at least?
I pulled the door open and looked into the face of a pretty, widely smiling face of an Asian woman. There was something familiar about her, but I couldn’t figure out what it was.
“Mrs. Frost?” she said.
“Yes?”
We shook hands.
“I’m very honored to meet you, Mrs. Frost. I have enjoyed and devoured every book you’ve written.”
“Oh, well, thank you. What was your name again?” I asked, thinking she was just a fan stopping by to tell me she loved my books. I’d had a few of those, especially over the summer when all the tourists came to the island. My books had recently been translated into German, and Fanoe Island attracted a lot of German tourists, since it was close to the border.
“Sonnichsen. Dr. Sonnichsen.”
“Well, Dr. Sonnichsen. Let me just get a pen.”
The woman looked puzzled. “Excuse me?”
“To sign your book? I assume you brought one?” I asked.
The woman laughed. It sounded a little strange. I blushed slightly, realizing I had made a mistake.
“Oh, no, Mrs. Frost. I’m not here for you…even though I do like your books. I’m here for your daughter.”
“For Maya? I don’t think I understand…”
“I was sent here by your social worker. I’m an occupational therapist. My specialty field is children with amnesia.”
I froze completely. Could this really be? Was there really an expert in amnesia patients right here on my front step? I was startled, baffled, blown away. I had searched for someone like her for months, but they were almost impossible to get ahold of.
“You say a social worker sent you?”
“Yes. Apparently, you contacted her regarding your daughter, uhm, Maya, was it?”
I nodded eagerly. “Yes. Yes I did. I called several times over the summer and left messages for her, but I had no idea she would actually react.”
Dr. Sonnichsen chuckled. “Well, she did. I know people usually don’t think much of our social welfare system, but, from time to time, it actually works pretty well. Your social worker talked to your doctor, Dr. Faaborg, and they agreed the best way to deal with this was to send me. So, here I am. And I’m all paid for by the county, so you don’t have to worry about that. But enough talking. I’ve come here for Maya. I would like to meet her.”
“Of course,” I said. I was still staring, completely baffled, at the woman. I felt like I was dreaming.
“So, are you going to let me come in?”
“Naturally,” I said, laughing at myself. I stepped aside immediately and let her walk inside my house. I stared at her while closing the door. I wanted to kiss her and hug her and tell her she was the answer to my prayers. I couldn’t believe it. Finally, some luck was coming my way.
“She’s upstairs studying. I’ll go get her,” I said, my voice vibrating with excitement. “You can wait in the kitchen if you like. I baked a cake. Help yourself to a piece.”
41
January 2010
“I’M COMING HOME.”
Louise was clasping the phone so hard her fingers started hurting.
“What was that again?” she asked, her voice shivering.
“I’m being released,” Bjarke said.
“But…but…how? Why?”
“They found the person who did it. They found the real killer. Isn’t it wonderful? Finally, we can be together. Finally, it’s just you and me.”
Louise had no idea how to answer. After six months of being married to Bjarke, she had gotten used to the way things were. She liked visiting him every week, and even better, she liked that she always knew where he was.
Now, that was about to change.
“Aren’t you thrilled, babe?” he asked, his voice almost cracking in joy.
“Sss…sure I am.”
“Then, why don’t you sound happy?”
“Guess I’m just really surprised, that’s all.”
“Me too. I can’t believe it. They just told me a minute ago. Walked right into my cell and told me I was free to leave. I’m so happy. You have no idea what it’s like to sit in here for something you didn’t do. I had given up hope. This is amazing. We can finally start our life together.”
“So, you…you are free to go, like, right now?” Louise asked. Her hands were trembling.
Everything is so good the way it is. Why does it have to change?
“Well, they have to finish the paperwork. I’ve been told that I’ll be released at noon.”
“Noon? And then what?”
“Then I’ll take the first train out of here. That way I can be on Fanoe Island by dinnertime. Would you make me a dinner, Louise?”
Louise had no idea what to say. She wanted to throw the phone away and start running. She had never been with Bjarke for more than a few hours at a time before. Now what? Now he was coming here? Was he going to sleep here? Would he live here? Did she dare to have him here?
Stop it, you fool. You love him, remember? You believed he was innocent from the start. Now he is. Be happy. He’s your husband.
Louise closed her eyes and bit her lip. “Of course I will,” she said. “Do you like lasagna?”
“Are you kidding? I love lasagna. It’s my favorite dish. Oh, my God, I can’t believe this is really happening. Yeehah. I’m free, Louise. I’m free!”
“I…I can’t believe it either. So who was it? Who killed your ex-girlfriend and her kids?”
“Some lunatic. They haven’t told me much about it. Actually, they didn’t even tell me anything. Just that they were letting me go. New development in the case, they said. I heard something from another inmate. He told me he heard that they had found new evidence incriminating someone else for it. I guess it must have been pretty hard evidence, huh? What do I care? I’m a free man. I can’t wait to hold you in my arms, Louise. I can’t wait to see your island that you’ve talked about so endearingly. I can‘t wait to get away from all this. You have no idea how depressing it is in here, Louise. But it’s all in the past now. It’s over. No more visiting hours. Now, we can be with each other all hours of the day. Just you and me, baby. Just you and me. Me and the missus.”
“I…I…I can’t wait.”
Bjarke sighed deeply. “Oh, and by the way…I’ve changed my name. I don’t want the world to look at me and see a murderer. ‘Cause I know they will. Even if I’m released, they’ll always see me that way, Louise. So, now, I’m a new person.”
“Okay, so what’s your name now?” she asked.
“Melander. Jesper Melander.”
“Guess that makes me Mrs. Melander, huh?”
“I guess so.”
“I like it.”
42
August 2014
JESPER MELANDER PUT the black slippers on a newspaper in the bathroom. It was important to use a well-ventilated place, or the s
mell would be awful.
Jesper shook the spray can and sprayed the shoes, coloring them red, making sure it was even all over. He didn’t want them to look cheap, or even homemade. Then, he set them to dry.
While waiting, Jesper looked at the listing on his computer…that lovely yellow house that now had the sign across its picture online that said that sweet enchanting word: SOLD.
It had taken some time for the young couple to get the loan through the bank, and it almost fell through at one point. It had been quite the drama. But now, the house was finally theirs, and they were receiving the keys by the end of this week. The house had been empty for two years, so they could take over right away.
Jesper could hardly wait.
It had been three weeks since his last kill, and he was getting hungry. It had been hard to restrain himself. It was like Pandora’s Box. He couldn’t close it again. He couldn’t hold back anymore. He needed to kill again, and even having to wait till the end of the week required all of his restraint, all of his self-control and discipline.
Ten hours later, he picked up the shoes and checked if the paint was dry. It was. He picked up the glue gun that was all warmed up and sat at the kitchen table. He grabbed the bag of large red sequins and dropped them on the table. Carefully, he placed a dab of hot glue on the tip of the shoe.
Don’t use too much, or it’ll look ugly. Don’t want to have to start all over like the last time, do we?
With a pair of tweezers, he picked up a sequin and placed it in the glue.
Place them as close together as possible, but don't shove them together, you idiot!
Once the first was on, the rest were easier. Jesper placed another dab of hot glue, then placed a sequin on that as well. Then he smiled, while continuing. Soon, he was singing:
Yeh, it's sad, believe me, Missy
When you're born to be a sissy
Without the vim and verve
But I could change my habits
Never more be scared of rabbits
If I only had the nerve
I'm afraid there's no denying
I'm just an awful dandy-lion
A fate I don't deserve
But I could show my prowess
Be a lion, not a mouse
If I only had the nerve
The shoes were coming along fine now. Slowly, those boring ordinary black shoes became sparkling and red, looking like those from a fairy tale.
“Oh, you’re going to look so pretty, my angel, wearing the ruby red shoes from your dreams. Never prettier…never prettier, they’ll write in the papers. Yes, they will. They’ll write that she was so beautiful…quiet and peaceful, naked, dressed in nothing but the most enchanting ruby red slippers, lying on top of the bed in her new home. There certainly is no place to die like in your home. East or west, home is best. Isn’t it, dearie? It sure is. It sure is.”
Jesper lifted the sparkling shoes into the air, and then shook them to see if any sequins were loose. He held them up to the light and smiled.
Just try and stay out of my way. Just try! I’ll get you my pretty, and your little dog, too!
43
August 2014
DR. SONNICHSEN CAME every afternoon all week. She spent hours with Maya in the living room, going through what she remembered and what she didn’t, taking notes and assessing her.
I was just thrilled. Maya seemed to be doing much better already. She hadn’t come home crying again, and she looked forward to spending time with Dr. Sonnichsen. I had no idea how long we would have her, but I was hoping it would be a long time.
On Friday, she arrived, as usual, right before Maya came home from school, and we all had afternoon tea together. Then, they moved to the living room and began their work.
I had decided not to meddle, but was incredibly curious as to what they were doing. Later that day, Dr. Sonnichsen finally decided to enlighten me a little.
She came into the kitchen where I was preparing dinner and sat down.
“So, to keep you updated, I can tell you that I have now observed Maya for a couple of days and tried to figure out exactly how much she remembers and where she has gaps. I have to say, there are a lot of gaps…putting it mildly. But, that doesn’t mean she can’t fill those out in time. But it will take just that…Time.”
I wiped my fingers on my apron and sat down. My stomach turned into a knot, wondering how much time it would take.
“I know you want to know how long it’s going to take,” Dr. Sonnichsen continued, as if she had read my mind. “But, as a habit, I never try to estimate a timeframe for the simple reason that each child is very different, and every case I meet is different. It might take weeks; it might take even years. I don’t know.”
Years?!
Everything inside of me was screaming desperately. Was this thing going to go on for years?
“And, you must know that there is such a thing as permanent amnesia. Not all patients regain their memory completely. That is, of course, only in the very severe cases,” she continued.
“Is Maya severe?” I asked, my voice shaking.
Dr. Sonnichsen exhaled. “Who can say? All I can tell you is that I intend to work with her from now on, and we’ll just have to see.”
“Okay. Okay,” I said, even though I wanted to scream in frustration. I needed better answers, clearer answers. I needed to know that my daughter would be herself…and, preferably, very soon.
“So, you’ll work with her, here in this house every day…or?” I asked.
“Yes. I’ll start a more intensive program this Monday. I have great hopes for Maya.”
I closed my eyes in relief. At least she had good hopes. That was something. It was a start.
“For how long? How long will you be able to work with her?” I asked anxiously.
Dr. Sonnichsen smiled. There was something about that smile that reminded me of someone. I couldn’t figure out who it was.
“As long as it takes,” she said.
“As long as it takes?” I asked, baffled. “As in, no limits? What if it takes years for her to get better?”
“That is very rare,” she said. “The children I work with usually regain around eighty percent of their memory within three to four months, but that varies a lot, naturally. It cannot be forced. We must give it the time it takes for the brain to heal. It’s a very delicate matter, the memory, and we must take it one day at a time. Let’s see where it takes us, shall we?”
Dr. Sonnichsen looked at me intensely. I felt comfortable in her presence. I was happy to put my daughter in her hands.
She rose to her feet and put on her jacket. “I’ll start with the memory training on Maya on Monday. At first, we’ll focus on helping her with day-to-day tasks, help her organize herself to avoid further confusion in her life right now. She needs all the stability she can get. I’ll let you know that the children I usually work with suffer from what we call Dissociative Amnesia, a condition triggered by trauma. I’ve never worked with someone with drugged-induced amnesia before. I do, however, think that Maya’s reactions will be very similar to those of my other patients.”
“And, what are those reactions, usually?” I asked.
“She might get introverted from time to time, even draw away from you and your family; she could get angry, aggressive, or refuse to speak at all. Those are very common reactions. She’s not in a good place right now, and she can’t explain to others what is happening, since she doesn’t understand it herself. Be aware of signs of a beginning depression as well. But, do promise me you won’t treat her as if she’s sick. She is not ill. It is vital that you try to keep a normal life for her. Keep her in school. Have her be with her friends. Talk to her friends and tell them she doesn’t understand everything, and that she has a hard time remembering things. It might bother them, or even hurt them, that she can’t remember them, but explain to them it’s not personal. She’s just going through a rough time. Provide a secure and caring environment at home. Make her feel useful.
Give her some chores that she can handle easily.”
Dr. Sonnichsen gave me a friendly smile.
“I…I can’t thank you enough,” I said. “You have no idea how much I’ve prayed for help. You’re heaven sent.”
“Well, I don’t know about that. But I’m glad that I can be of help to you in this difficult time. See you on Monday.”
“See you then.”
44
August 2014
THEY HAD BOUGHT a house. Finally, Camilla and Mikkel had been able to agree on something. Ever since they met each other in a club in Esbjerg, they had fought about everything. It could even be the littlest things, like what to eat or how to spend the weekend.
So, naturally, finding a house, the right house, had taken them almost a year. They were both fed up with looking and searching for the right one, so when the yellow house on the south side of Fanoe Island showed up, and they actually, finally, agreed, they threw in an offer as fast as possible. The bank almost said no, since Camilla wanted to start up her own business as a tattoo-artist. They didn’t believe in that idea very much, plus, she had a lot of debt from travelling around in Asia, charging everything on her credit cards, and never being able to pay it back.
But Mikkel had a decent job, and made an okay, but stable, living. Enough for him to be able to vouch for her. He told the bank that he was good for the money, and they knew he was, since his parents owned a big house on the water on the mainland. They knew he would eventually inherit enough money to pay their debts, if necessary.
