by Willow Rose
Paul put the car into gear and drove off, not knowing where to, just wanting to get away. He was in the mood for a beer in a bar somewhere, hanging out with a couple of guys, who wouldn't give him a hard time about silly stuff, but at this hour in this small town, that just might be impossible to find, he thought to himself. He drove down the road and headed towards town. There were many cars on the roads, people heading off to work, he thought, and suddenly recognized his new neighbor's car with the woman inside of it who he had seen in the yard, reading a magazine. He was driving behind her on the road when they came to a red light and he drove up alongside her car. It was quite an astonishing car, he had to say. An old Volkswagen, but very well maintained; it almost made the woman look like she had jumped out of a movie from the Fifties.
She looked at him briefly, and then nodded like she recognized him as well, but maybe that was just something you did out here to anyone you'd meet. Paul had heard about that, or more likely seen it in movies. He smiled and nodded back. She seemed nice, he thought, slightly uptight with her hair in that bun he always connected with people working in libraries. But her eyes were nice and friendly.
The light turned green, and before Paul could even get the car into first gear, she was off. He drove slowly, looking for any place that would be open at this early hour and would sell him a beer, while the woman disappeared towards the dark forest outside the town. Well, calling it a town was pushing it slightly, he grinned to himself, as he drove slowly through the one street that they had the nerve to call a town. Paul didn't think he had ever been in a place as vacant and desolate as this. How on earth Emma had come up with moving them all the way out here was beyond his comprehension. Paul didn't understand what was wrong with their nice apartment. Yes, it was in a bad neighborhood with hardly any other Danes living there, but it was cheap and nice and cozy. Plus, Paul could walk to anything, and there was always something open somewhere.
Paul saw a grocery store and parked the car. He walked inside and found an elderly woman.
"You're the new couple moving in down at Langholm?" she said, before Paul could even open his mouth.
"Well, yes," Paul said, quite startled by the fact that she had known who he was just by looking at his face.
"I'm Mrs. Hansen," she said, and pushed a smile through her small wrinkled face. "My husband and I own this store. It's always wonderful when new people arrive. Can I help you find what you need?"
"Oh. I'm not here to shop," he said, and noticed how Mrs. Hansen's face froze. "Not yet," he said, trying to soften her up again. "We definitely will be later on. Right now, we're just getting things in their right place, if you know what I mean. We emptied the fridge as we left and still have what we need, I think. Emma bought some milk and eggs at the gas station nearby, as far as I know. Well, Emma does most of the shopping so she'll know when we need anything again."
Paul paused. It had been a long time since he had heard himself babbling like this, but something about this woman reminded him of his grandmother, and she always looked at him in the same condemning way that this woman did right now. And then he would babble in order to explain himself, in order to not get in trouble. Just like he was now.
"So, what can I do for you today?" Mrs. Hansen said.
"I was wondering if there is anywhere around here where a man can get a beer?"
Mrs. Hansen tightened her lips and Paul realized this probably didn't put the new couple in the best light, but to be perfectly honest, Paul didn't really care about any of them right now. It was all Emma's idea to move here, not his. He didn't want this small town idyllic life that she apparently suddenly craved. He had thought she would snap out of it as soon as she became bored with this small town life, and then they could move back. He wanted to go back to live in a town where he could get a beer at any time of the day.
"Well, there is the inn on the hill. Mona's Inn is opening at ten. They'll sell you a beer."
The woman suddenly seemed like she wanted him to get out in a hurry. She had that look in her eyes, the way Paul would look when his sister came for a visit and he wanted her out as soon as possible, or when Jehovah's Witnesses approached him on the street. Paul was more than happy to get out of her hair, so he thanked the lady and left the store. Even though he didn't see her do it, he was certain she picked up the phone right after he left. He could picture her talking to some other small town folks and telling them all the dirt she already had on the "new couple."
Paul shrugged and turned the key in the ignition. The engine of his old Toyota roared and he drove off. It took him only about thirty seconds before he left town and could spot the inn on top of the hill. It looked like the perfect place for him to spend some hours away from the war zone that he called home. He licked his lip and felt how sore it was. Emma had hit him hard with her fist earlier in the night. He chuckled as he felt it. His friends constantly told him they found it strange that they stayed together, but what did they know?
Sometimes, "A kiss with a fist is better than none," like the song from Emma's favorite band Florence and the Machine said.
Yes, Paul was often sore and bruised after a fight with Emma, but that was just the way they were. That was what they did; that's how they rolled. Paul was always careful not to hurt her, though, to not bruise her. That was the way he showed her that he loved her. Her let her beat the crap out of him, and if he hit back, then he made sure he was careful not to hurt her. Especially now that she was pregnant. Yes, Paul knew about it. How she could have thought he hadn't noticed, he didn't know. He saw her body naked every day. He knew every bump on her, every fold, and every love handle. He had seen the bump was growing, noticed her sudden cravings, and even seen her get out of bed and walk into the kitchen in the middle of the night and eat. Finally, he had his suspicion confirmed one day when he picked up the phone to call his friend and she had been on it with her girlfriend, Camilla.
"I just don't know how to tell him," she had said.
"How about just saying: 'I'm pregnant?'" Camilla had replied.
Since then, Paul had waited for her to finally tell him, and he was getting frustrated that it hadn't happened. A month had passed since he had accidentally listened in on her conversation, and still nothing. Lately Paul had begun wondering if the child was even his. He feared she had been with someone else and that was why she hadn't told him yet. She was afraid of his reaction. Maybe that was even why she was so busy building their nest, so Paul wouldn't leave her once he found out? Was that it? Paul thought, as he drove up the hill and parked the car in front of the inn.
‘Cause Paul would never leave Emma. In his own strange way, he loved her way too much for that.
Chapter Twenty
Thomas hadn't slept all night, but he wasn't going to fall asleep just yet. It was past noon the next day, and they had been talking all night. Minna looked tired, but the anger and bitterness that he had seen on her face earlier seemed to have faded slightly. Talking helped and Thomas wasn't going to stop now. He wasn't going to let go of her.
Dan had been asleep in his room all night and had looked at them with great surprise when he came downstairs around seven thirty to get his breakfast. He hadn't spoken a single word to them and left the house without even a look. It hurt Thomas to see how much pain he had inflicted on his family, especially Dan. This had to be hard on him. He had just buried his younger sister and his parents had too many problems to be able to take care of him. Thomas was well aware of how much he had failed his family, and he was prepared to make up for it the rest of his life. That was what he told Minna all night long, as they sat on the couch and talked it over. It was the hardest thing Thomas ever had to do, the hardest talk he ever had to have with anyone, and it was about to break him, but the thought of losing Minna would be worse. It would simply be unbearable.
"Thomas," she said now with a deep sigh. There had been a lot of sighs that long night and a lot of tears as well. From both of them. Now he detected something in her voice again,
a tone to it that told him she was about to leave once again. She was giving up. Thomas wasn't going to let her. He leaned over and grabbed her hand.
"I love you, Minna. You have to believe me. I will do anything to make this work. I'll make it up to you, to all of you. I'll work really hard at getting this right again. I'll even do counseling with you; maybe we can bring Dan too, at least once, so he could get some of his worries off his chest. I'll do anything, Minna. Anything." He knew he sounded desperate, and there was a time when he would have refused to beg like this, refused to bow down and lose his manhood, but this was a desperate moment, and he didn't know what else to do.
Minna looked at him and sighed again. He thought he detected affection in this one, but he could be wrong. "You already said that, Thomas. Many times tonight…"
"Don't say but," he interrupted her. "Don't let there be a but at the end of that sentence."
Minna tilted her head. "…but…I need to get away for a little while. To think. I need to rethink our whole life. I feel like I hardly know you anymore. How do I trust you again? You and me? What we had is broken…"
"Not broken," Thomas said. "Just bent."
Minna sighed again. "I don't think you get it, Thomas. I don't even know how many women you were seeing without me knowing it."
Now it was Thomas who sighed. Deeply. Profoundly. "Are we back to that again?" he asked, while covering his face with his hands. They were going in circles now. The same conversation over and over again. "I told you there was no one other than Elsebeth. She was just a fling. I never felt anything for her. It was just sex."
"Just sex, huh?"
"Yes. It was nothing, really."
"See, that's what I don't get. Why would you risk destroying your entire family for something that was…nothing? Why even do it then? Are you that stupid? ‘Cause to me it seems like something only somebody really stupid would do."
"I told you. I wasn't thinking it through," Thomas explained again. "She was just someone I was with whenever there was a party at the office or a conference, and only when we had way too much to drink. You know how I get when I drink. I don't think."
Minna scoffed. "That's the truth," she said. "But what I don't get is why she would claim that you two were in love? How would she get that idea, if it was just sex?"
"I don't know. The woman is crazy, I guess. Maybe she read something into our relationship that just wasn't there."
"Oh, so now it's a relationship, is it?"
Thomas rubbed his forehead. He didn't even want to come back with an answer. They had been saying the same things so many times now that he didn't have any more answers. Frankly, he didn't know what to do, what to say to make her stay.
"Was she with you when you went to Berlin last month?" she suddenly asked. Thomas froze in the middle of her sentence. Minna's eyes grew wide. She got up with a furious movement.
"Don't even bother to answer that," she said, and grabbed the handle of her suitcase. Then she looked at him and he knew it was all lost. It was almost two o'clock in the afternoon and he didn't have the strength to fight anymore. He shrugged.
"Fine," he said, trying to sound like he didn't care anymore.
"Fine," she said, and turned her back on him.
He watched her as she dragged her suitcase towards the front door. He wanted so badly to run after her, to grab her by the shoulder and kiss her passionately, hold her in his arms and never let go. He wanted to yell that he loved her and that had to mean at least something! But he didn't. He was out of strength and willpower to continue. The light in his bright blue eyes died out as he quietly watched her shut the door behind her.
Chapter Twenty-One
Halfway through the forest, Marie-Therese spotted the big gate with the many signs telling strangers to Stay out, private property. She stopped the old car in front of the gate and got out. A small intercom was near the gate. She approached it. Then she drew in a deep breath to calm herself down. Her drive here had been way too agitated; her mind had been twitchy.
Right before she left the house this morning, she had been dreaming. Asleep on her couch in front of the TV, she had dreamt about Edwina. It was an unusually vivid dream. She had finally come for her, come for Marie-Therese and savaged her. Marie-Therese had seen herself from the outside, like had she been floating under the ceiling, looking down at her own body lying in a pool of blood. She had seen Edwina underneath her, ripping her throat open with her sharp teeth, pulling her steaming guts out in bundles with her long nails. Marie-Therese awoke from the dream, screaming and whining. Then she heard the girls and Sebastian in the kitchen, eating breakfast and getting ready for school. All three of them had come in to the living room right before they left, with their backpacks on and nicely combed hair, like Marie-Therese had instructed them. Edwina was standing behind Ida and Sebastian, so Marie-Therese barely could see her.
"We're off to school now," Ida said with a shy smile.
Marie-Therese felt her heart pounding in her chest as she looked at the small Edwina, whose face peeked out behind Ida's shoulder. Marie-Therese gasped when her eyes locked with hers. Ida and Sebastian both turned at the same time and started walking, but Edwina hesitated for just a second.
She is going to kill me; she will be ripping my guts out just like in the dream.
"Come on, Edwina," Ida said. "Or we'll miss the bus."
Her green eyes glared at Marie-Therese one more time before she turned and left with the others.
Oh, dear God. It's like she was sizing me up.
Now Marie-Therese turned to what she saw as her final hope. She touched the button next to the gate and a voice came over the intercom.
"Who is this?"
"I need to speak to the Priest. Please. It's urgent. My name is Marie-Therese and I desperately need his help."
Marie-Therese was shown into an office. The Priest joined her a few minutes later. His hair was thick and the way it fell softly on his forehead made him look like Brandon from Beverly Hills 90210, one of Marie-Therese's absolute favorite new shows. He was also younger than Marie-Therese had expected.
"So, Marie-Therese," he said and sounded like he tasted her name. "I'm told you have a problem?"
The way he smiled, the way he comported himself took Marie-Therese by surprise. She hadn't been prepared for him to be anything like this. She had never seen a Priest this handsome…this, well, sexy. It made her blush instantly when he smiled at her, and the realization of how embarrassing it was that her cheeks were turning red like some silly schoolgirl, made her blush even harder. It was like it couldn't stop.
"It's this girl. I've taken her in. You know, to help her out and all. She has no one, you see. She is all alone in this world. I have other children in foster care. I like to give them a home when they have none."
"I see," he said and nodded pensively. "That sounds very noble of you."
"Thank you." Marie-Therese took in a deep breath and tried hard to focus on why she had come in the first place.
"So, what is wrong with the girl?" he asked.
"I really don't know how to say this. I think she might be…possessed by something. Something very evil. It's not just the way she looks, or the fact that she doesn't want to speak. There is just something about her."
The Priest folded his hands on the desk in front of him and leaned over, looking interested. "Go on," he said.
"Well…it's just that…things happen when she is around. People get sick, or they get hurt. Some even die. The last foster family she was with, their daughter fell one day from the top of a tree and died. The mother got sick with leukemia. After that, they had to let her go. They couldn't have her anymore. I could go on. Her file is filled with stories like this. Even her own mother, her real mother died from cancer. Here, I brought you the file," Marie-Therese said, and pulled the folder out of her bag.
The Priest took it and started reading, flipping through the pages while nodding slowly. "It seems her mother and father were exposed to radiat
ion from the Chernobyl nuclear power plant?" he said.
"Yes. Edwina wasn't born yet, but her mother was pregnant with her at the time. They moved to Denmark shortly after the father died."
"Well, that explains the mother's death, then."
Marie-Therese nodded. "That's true. There is nothing strange about that. But ever since, many people who have been in contact with Edwina have died from cancer, and then there are all the accidents. Right after she moved in to my house, the girl next door fell from a tree house and died. The dad became ill and went to the hospital, plus I’ve been having these dreams about her killing me. And the way she is behaving…"
"And what way is that?" he asked, looking up from the papers.
"One day I came home and she…well she was sitting outside my house and she was…touching herself…down there," Marie-Therese said, almost whispering, as if whispering made it less sinful. "Then there is the screaming, the strange smells, and the way she draws back when she sees a cross, hissing like an angry cat. She is out of control and I don't know what to do. I want to save her, I really do. I'm certain that the real Edwina is in there somewhere and she wants to come out. I know you have been known to be able to drive out demons before, and I was wondering if you might be able to help her somehow?"
The Priest looked at Marie-Therese for a few very pensive seconds. "I'd like to meet her," he said.
