by Willow Rose
Astrid felt another contraction and tried to embrace the pain that followed. She didn't scream anymore, nor did she yell. All she did was let the pain take her and her body to where it wanted to go, knowing the pain wasn't something she was supposed to fight, if it was in fact God's wrath upon her, then she shouldn't fight it, she should let it do its work in her till it had cleansed her from all sin. Wave after wave rolled in over her and finally she felt an overwhelming pressure from inside and as she followed it, let it overtake her body. She suddenly felt something, felt something move between her legs. She looked down and realized the baby's head was peeking out. She whimpered and cried as she felt the last desire to press again and the baby slid right out of her and landed on the bed.
Oh my God, oh my. Is it alive? Is it breathing? Why isn't it saying anything? Isn't it supposed to cry?
Astrid grabbed the slimy and bloody creature in her arms and held it against her chest. Her heart was pounding, why wasn't the baby crying?
Then it came. The most relieving sound in the entire world for Astrid. The sound of her baby screaming for the first time. Astrid looked at her baby, then cried herself, holding it in her arms, rocking it back and forth.
"You're here. You're finally here," she mumbled while the baby continued crying. "I shall never be alone again. You and me, boy. We will make it. Together we shall make it."
Astrid found a pair of scissors and cut the umbilical cord. Then she put her baby on her chest and let him eat from her breasts until she suddenly felt like more contractions came, smaller but still strong. Finally she gave birth to the placenta and she flushed it in the toilet. She washed her baby in the sink, then clothed him in the clothes and diapers the woman had given her the last time she was there. The baby cried and cried and Astrid believed it was still the best sound in the world. Finally there was going to be life in this hell-hole. Finally the silence was broken.
Chapter Twenty-Five
2012
"I MET SOMEONE."
I was on my second glass of red wine when Sophia just blurted it out. Her eyes shimmered with excitement.
"Really?" I asked. "Who is he?"
"The chef down at the restaurant Kabyssen at the harbor. He’s originally from the mainland. Moved here three years ago. Boy, oh boy, how he can cook. Not any of all that foreign food, no Italian or Chinese or any of that sushi stuff. No, good old-fashioned Danish food. Just the way my grandmother used to make it. With lots of gravy, meat, and potatoes."
I smiled. "Sounds great. How is he with the kids?"
"That's the best part. He loves kids. Simply adores them. More than he likes grown-ups, I get the feeling sometimes. You should see him with my children. He plays these crazy games and builds forts in the living room. He’s wonderful."
"Wow. You sound almost like you're in love." I sipped from my glass, thinking about my meeting earlier that night with Officer Dan. I had to admit I kind of liked him. He had that charm to him and it didn't hurt that he was good-looking, as well.
"Well, I just might be," Sophia said and winked at me. "Well, at least so far I'm enjoying his company. That's all. But you never know. I might end up like one of them housewives you hear so much about."
"Is it getting that serious? How long have you been seeing him?"
"Only two months. I didn't want to say anything in case it turned out to be nothing, you know? But now I'm kind of getting the vibe that he wants more. Yesterday he talked about us moving in together, like it was something we were actually working on. Once we live together, he said. And then he talked about how much it would help me out to have two incomes in the household and stuff. I swear, I almost choked on my meatball. I had pretty much given up on the thought of ever finding anyone to actually be serious about. I thought that ship had sailed, if you know what I mean. But he’s willing to take me and my five kids and all."
"Sounds like a keeper," I said.
"I know." Sophia smiled widely. She was so happy, I had never seen her like this before.
"So, has he been married before? Does he have any kids?"
"He has been married once before, but they never had any children. That was actually why he left, he told me. He wanted children and she didn't. She just waited seven years to tell him. Can you imagine that? All those years he thought she was off the pill and they were trying, but she was taking the pills when he wasn't looking. He found out when they started fertility treatments. The doctor told him. She broke down and told him that she didn't want to lose him, but she also knew he wanted kids so bad that she would eventually lose him if she ever told him how she felt about having kids, that it just wasn't for her. That's when he gathered his things and left her."
"Brutal. Who would do such a thing?" I asked.
"Who wouldn't want to have kids?" Sophia laughed.
I stared at her. "You're not pregnant again, are you?" I looked at her glass. She hadn't touched her wine at all.
She blushed. "Maybe a little bit?"
I almost spit out all my red wine. "You've got to be kidding me!"
"What? Stephan is so excited. He always wanted children. It's the last chance for me. After this one, I'm closed for business."
"I bet you said that when you had your last one, too," I said.
She shrugged. "So what if I did. This is different. Stephan is cute and nice and maybe ... maybe the love of my life."
"Well, I guess a congratulation is in order."
"Thanks," Sophia said. Her eyes shone like only a pregnant woman's could.
Chapter Twenty-Six
2012
Victor stayed home from school the next day. Not so much because he was in pain, more because I wanted to spend more time with him and I used the bad ankle as an excuse.
I pulled out our old puzzles that he used to enjoy making and for hours we decorated the kitchen table with them. It was nice to just hang out with him, but I couldn't get my mind off the two killings. I kept wondering what the two women had in common. Why did the killer choose these two and not someone else? They seemed very different as types. Mrs. Heinrichsen was old-fashioned, uptight as far as I knew, a woman of Home Mission, known as one of the strictest religious sects in our country. And Irene Justesen. Well, that was a completely different story, wasn't it? All they had in common was that they were both pretty old. But maybe that was all they needed? Maybe the killer targeted old women because they were easy subjects, because they weren't going to offer much resistance. Maybe he had some sort of mother complex, making him want to hurt women?
What else did they have in common? Oh yes. They were both extremely wealthy. Maybe that counted as a factor as well. Did he steal anything? Not according to the police reports, but then why? What did he get out of killing these old rich ladies?
I was blank for ideas. The only thing I kept thinking was that if only I knew them both better, it would make it easier to write about them and maybe find the parallels. Did they know each other from somewhere?
Before I knew it, I had put Victor in the car and was driving through town, towards the town's only church. It was situated on a small street with lots of other houses, behind a small fence and the cemetery surrounding it. I took Victor with me, since he walked fine on his own again. We didn't speak as we trekked up towards the main entrance. It had a white painted wooden door in the middle of the red bricks. The black roof seemed pretty new and all in all, it looked very well maintained even if it was from 1786.
"It'll only be a couple of minutes," I told Victor. I opened the door and we entered the old church. It was empty and I could hear the echo of our feet walking across the tiles.
"Wow," I said. "It's beautiful."
The church was decorated with old wooden ships hanging on strings from under the roof.
"Fanoe is a maritime island," a voice said behind me. I turned and saw a man--the pastor, I surmised--standing behind me in his black robe and white collar. "They are models of real old frigates. Some of these wooden ships are more than a hundred years old
."
"They’re beautiful," I said and pointed at one to get Victor to look at it. "Look at the details Victor. Even the cannons. Look at those."
But Victor didn't look. Instead, he whimpered and grabbed my hand. I stared down at him while he clung to my leg and looked at the pastor. I stroked Victor’s hair gently, wondering why he was so scared all of a sudden. But I was also enjoying the closeness that these last days had given me. I had to treasure them since I didn't know how long it would last before Victor went back to being his old, untouchable self.
"You are new to the island?" the pastor asked and smiled at Victor. "Tourists?"
"No. We inherited a house here in town. Mrs. Frost's old house, after she passed away."
The pastor changed facial expression. "Ah, I see. Don't think I remember you from the funeral."
Victor clenched my hand as the pastor smiled at him again. "No," I said. "We weren't there. I am her grandchild."
I wanted to explain to him that for some reason, my dad didn't tell me about the death of his mother, my grandmother, and the funeral before it was too late, but somehow, it wasn't something I wanted people to know. Mainly because I never quite understood what had happened between the two of them. Why they lost contact or why my dad kept me away from her for all of my life. It was something I needed to ask him about next time I was alone with him again. I knew it bothered him that I had inherited the house, and especially that I had moved here, back to where he had grown up. But he never told me why. I was getting increasingly curious.
"Oh, well, that makes sense," the pastor said. "Although I don't believe your grandmother had talked about you much."
"I only met her once, when I was four or so. My dad and she were never close, I guess."
I paused and looked at the beautiful church. Victor still clenched my hand. I had no idea what was going on with him.
"So, did you know my grandmother?" I asked.
"I did," the pastor said. "She was a very important contributor to this church. A member of the parish council, as well."
"She was? I didn't know that." I didn't even know my dad had been brought up with any religion at all, but then again, I didn't know much about my dad's childhood. He never shared much about it.
"Oh yes. A very important member. We were very sad to see her go."
I nodded. "And then you lost Mrs. Heinrichsen recently," I said, getting back to the reason I had come in the first place. To get to know more about Mrs. Heinrichsen.
"Yes. Very sad. A huge loss to the community and to this church, of course."
"I can imagine," I said wondering how I was going to be able to ask more questions without him finding it suspicious.
"And yesterday with Irene Justesen. What a horrible story."
The pastor looked at me startled. "Well, yes."
"Was she in this church as well? Did she come here?"
The pastor shook his head. "Not anymore. Not for many years."
"But she used to?"
The pastor sighed. "Yes, she did. But she left the church at the time when she started her new business. I guess she couldn't quite do all those things and still maintain a good Christian life. The love of money is a root to all kinds of evil, you know."
“Was she also a member of the parish council?"
The pastor looked pained. "Yes, she was."
"Did she leave voluntarily?"
"That is between her and God. Look I have somewhere to be now. Did you come here to look at the church or are you interested in coming to our services? They’re held at ten on Sunday."
"Oh. No. I came here because I'm writing a book about the two killings here on the island."
The pastor ‘s face tightened. "Do you really think that's such a great idea?"
"Excuse me?"
"Out here we mind our own business. I don't think you should be running around asking too many questions, my dear child. You might get yourself into trouble."
I was startled. "Is that a threat?"
The pastor laughed. It was not a nice laughter. It was condescending. I didn't like that one bit.
"No. Consider it a piece of good advice. Nothing good ever came from putting your nose where it doesn't belong. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go."
The pastor nodded and left. Victor's hand relaxed in mine as soon as he was gone. I hadn't realized until now that he was whimpering. "What's wrong, buddy?" I asked.
"Spiders," he said. "The spiders are coming."
I turned to look but didn't see any. "There are no spiders here, Vic. What are you talking about? Victor. You're shaking? What's going on?"
"Take me out of here," he whispered. "Take me out of here now before the spiders get me."
Chapter Twenty-Seven
2012
Victor had a fever and was burning up by the time we got back to the house.
"Mommy, I feel so tired," he said with glassy eyes.
I felt his forehead. It wasn't good. I took his temperature and gave him something for the fever, then put him on the couch in the living room and turned on the TV.
I sat next to him with my laptop on my knees. I wrote down what the pastor had told me today. About Irene Justesen being a former member of the church and so on. At least I had found some sort of connection now between the two of them. They were both members of the church, of the parish council, but at some point, Irene Justesen had left. The question was, when did she leave the church and even more important, why? Could it simply be because of her career? I wondered who could give me more insight to how things worked in that church. At first I thought of Sophia, but I had a feeling she had already told me everything she knew. She was a newcomer like me and had never been a part of all that. I needed someone who had been on the inside and didn't mind talking about it.
"Mommy, my back hurts," Victor suddenly said.
I looked up from the screen. I put the computer down and lifted up Victor's shirt to better look.
"Oh, my God, Victor. Your entire back is covered in red blisters. How did that happen?"
Victor coughed weakly. "I don't know, Mommy. It was itching all night."
"We need to get you to a doctor. It looks like some of them are infected."
I put Victor in the car and drove him down to the island's only doctor. He had his clinic in his own house, a beautiful old red brick villa in the middle of town. I had called in advance and his secretary told us we could come in right away.
There were no other patients in the waiting room and we didn't have to wait long before Doctor Williamsen called us in.
He was a small chubby man with a nice smile. "So, how can I help you two? Something about a rash on your back?" he asked when we entered.
"There are a few on his arm as well. But it's worse on the back." I said, worried.
I helped Victor pull off his shirt. Doctor Williamsen walked closer and examined the blisters. Victor froze from the man’s touch. The doctor noticed right away.
"He has trouble with letting people touch him," I explained. "His former doctor called it a light autism. He gets anxiety attacks from time to time."
Doctor Williamsen smiled and tilted his head. "Are you okay there, buddy?" he asked. "Is it okay if I touch your back?"
Victor hesitated, then nodded.
"All right. I promise to be careful. I won't hurt."
"Doctors always say that before they hurt you," Victor said.
"Smart kid, huh? Been to a lot of doctors, have you?" Doctor Williamsen said, while studying Victor's back.
"Enough," he answered.
"I bet you have." Doctor Williamsen pulled away. "You can put your shirt back on." The doctor sat down behind his desk and took out a prescription pad. "I'm going to give you something to put on those blisters, twice a day. Do it in the morning and in the evening before you go to bed. That should help the infection."
"So it is infected?" I asked.
The doctor nodded. "He has been scratching them and they have a small infection. That's why h
e has the fever. " The doctor kept writing on his pad.
"So, what is it? What caused it?"
"Oh, that? Those are insect bites. We get a lot of that on this island. Has he been playing a lot in your yard?"
"Yes. He loves to play out there. He likes trees." I answered.
"Well, there you have it. At some point, he’s gotten too close to a bunch of insects and they have bitten him. He's not allergic to bees or anything, is he?"
"No. Not that I know of."
"Okay, then he should be fine."
"So, would you advise me to keep him out of the yard? It gives him so much joy to play back there. It helps him mentally, too. He has made a lot of progress since we got here, and I believe it's because of the yard."
"I see. Well, keep him inside for a few days until the infection is gone, and then I see no harm in letting him play out there again. Just tell him to watch out for bugs and don't roll around on the ground. Then he'll be fine. After all, it’s fall and the bugs will be gone soon."
"I guess he must have gotten the bites yesterday when he fell in the yard and couldn't get up," I said and looked at Victor. As usual he didn't look at any of us, but studied some plastic skeleton that the doctor had in the corner. "He hurt his ankle and couldn't get up on his own. Is that when you got those bug bites, Victor? Is it?" I asked my son.
But Victor wasn't present anymore. He had gone into some sort of world of his own, like he often did and now he was humming a song while staring at the skeleton.
"It must have been," the doctor said. He smiled and handed me the prescription. "Welcome to Fanoe Island, by the way, I hope you'll like it here," he said as we left.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
1982
Astrid had prepared everything. Sebastian was still asleep while she opened the cans. She was going to use one of the cans with tuna, since it was a special day and since this was Sebastian's favorite. Those and the ones with fruit cocktail. She opened one of those as well. Then she placed a small piece of chocolate next to the cans that she had opened. It was their last one and she had saved it for this day.