The Circle (Hammer)

by Elfgren, Sara B. ,Strandberg, Mats

  Vanessa is about to respond with something about Mona’s well-padded rump, but bites her lip.

  Mona’s bracelet rattles as she fumbles under the table. Then she rubs something into her hands. Vanessa has time to wonder if it’s magic oil, then sees the bottle of hand sanitiser.

  Mona holds out her hands. ‘Let’s see your mitts,’ she says.

  Warily Vanessa lays her hands in Mona’s. The moment their skin touches, Vanessa gets a strange feeling. It reminds her of how she feels when she’s about to become invisible. A bit like a wind gusting inside her.

  Over the last few weeks she’s become increasingly adept at controlling her invisibility. She can feel it coming and stop it. She has also started to learn how to bring it on when she chooses. That’s considerably more difficult, and the first time she tried to do it her nose bled.

  Mona examines her hands and Vanessa is suddenly nervous. After all, she doesn’t know anything about the woman. Her heart beats a little faster when she counts the weeks backwards in her head and realises that Mona must have arrived in the town just before Elias died.

  This was a bad idea, Vanessa says to herself, a very bad idea, in fact.

  ‘I see that you’re an independent young woman who wants to go her own way,’ says Mona.

  ‘Really? Impressive guesswork,’ says Vanessa, as her pulse subsides.

  ‘I’m not in the business of guessing!’ Mona gives her an irritated look. ‘You want to go out into the big wide world and have a look around.’

  ‘Gosh! I must be so special.’ She’s got nothing to worry about. Everything Mona says would be true of any girl Vanessa’s age. Mona is a charlatan, just like the rest of her mother’s gurus. Now the charlatan scrunches up her mouth so that every nicotine wrinkle on her upper lip shows. Then she appears to make a decision.

  ‘All right. Let’s do this properly.’

  She grabs Vanessa’s hands more tightly. A new feeling surges through Vanessa. She feels as she did when Ida levitated at the fairground: as if the air were charged with electricity. The hairs on her arms stand up. She holds her breath.

  ‘I see a man,’ says Mona. ‘You have a complicated relationship.’

  ‘Oh?’ says Vanessa, trying to sound indifferent.

  ‘It won’t last.’

  ‘You can’t just come out and say something like that!’

  Mona smiles wryly. ‘Do you want me to stop? Can’t you handle the truth?’

  Vanessa grits her teeth.

  Mona peers intently into her right palm and follows a line with her index finger. It tickles. ‘See this? These two lines are intertwined all the way to the end. The love of your life isn’t the one you think, but it’s someone you’ve already met. Oh dear, oh dear … It’ll be no picnic, but you’re tied to each other.’ Mona laughs – no, that’s the wrong word. Mona chuckles.

  ‘What’s so funny?’ Vanessa asks.

  ‘You’ll see.’ Mona lets go of Vanessa’s right hand and grabs the left one. ‘You feel very let down by someone. I see a parent who …’ Suddenly Mona leans so far forward that the tip of her nose almost brushes against Vanessa’s palm. ‘Aha!’ she cries.

  Vanessa’s mouth goes dry. Her tongue is glued to the roof of her mouth and she can’t speak.

  Mona glances at her triumphantly. ‘I knew it,’ she says. ‘Wait a minute.’

  Mona gets up and walks over to a black-painted chest of drawers. The top drawer gives such a shrill squeak when she pulls it open that Vanessa starts. Mona rummages around noisily until she finds what she’s looking for.

  Vanessa catches a glimpse of a plastic bag containing yellowish-white stones before Mona disappears out of the room. She returns with a lit cigarette in the corner of her mouth, holding a red marble ashtray in one hand. The bag dangles in the other.

  ‘I need bigger guns,’ she says. She unties the bag and pours the contents on to the table. Vanessa goes cold when she sees they aren’t stones.

  They’re teeth. Human teeth.

  ‘You see these inscriptions?’ says Mona, and holds up two front teeth.

  Vanessa recoils.

  ‘Oh, don’t be such a wuss,’ says Mona. ‘Just be glad I’m not using animal droppings or entrails.’

  Vanessa’s gaze glides down to the table. The gleaming teeth have strange lines on them that intersect in various ways. Each tooth has an inscribed pattern.

  ‘These are Ogham characters,’ says Mona. ‘The druids used them thousands of years ago. Some people believe that the characters are even older and originate from the ancient moon-goddess cults of the Middle East.’

  She gathers all the teeth in her cupped hands and shakes them several times. They rattle and click. Then she opens her hands and they scatter out across the table. Vanessa feels that charged sensation in the room again. It’s as if someone was gently drawing a grater over her skin.

  Mona turns a few teeth over so that their inscribed characters are visible. She studies the result and sucks in a few drags from her cigarette, which is still lodged in the corner of her mouth. ‘This character, úath, stands for terror or fear,’ she explains, pointing at a molar. ‘And this one … No. You probably don’t want to know.’ She looks at Vanessa provocatively.

  ‘Of course I do.’

  ‘nGéadal stands for death. Death is hanging over you.’

  Mona takes another drag, making the column of ash at the end of her cigarette grow so long that it might break off at any moment. She takes off her glasses.

  Vanessa is having trouble breathing. The room seems to be getting smaller, as if at any minute the walls will close in on her and crush her.

  ‘You don’t have to take everything literally,’ says Mona, as if what she had said was nothing out of the ordinary.

  Vanessa gets up suddenly, grapples with the mass of velvet hanging in the doorway, and finally gets through it to the other side, back into the normal world where the air is breathable.

  ‘Hi,’ someone says, and Vanessa looks around.

  Linnéa is standing behind the shelves. She’s holding a pearlescent porcelain figure of a cherub. ‘So ugly it’s wonderful,’ she says.

  Vanessa looks at the chubby angel playing the harp. Nobody but Linnéa would be able to take that grotesque thing home and make it look cool.

  Mona steps into the shop and casts a sweeping glance over Linnéa’s leopard-print fake fur. The shirt underneath has been cut to shreds and put back together with safety pins. She’s paired it with a super-short skirt made of pink tulle, and the knee-high combat boots.

  ‘Empty your pockets,’ Mona croaks.

  ‘What for?’ Linnéa asks.

  ‘I know a thief when I see one.’

  ‘I don’t have any pockets,’ Linnéa says. She spins around, a full turn, and smiles smugly.

  Mona grabs a handful of the imitation fur, examines it closely and decides she’s telling the truth.

  Vanessa decides that Linnéa is just what she needs right now, after this chain-smoking old fruitcake with her death characters. They leave Mona Moonbeam and her stuffy little shop.

  ‘What the hell were you doing with that old bat?’ Linnéa asks, and fishes a packet of cigarettes out of her boot as they emerge from the mall. She lights one and holds it out to Vanessa, who takes it even though she usually only likes the taste when she’s drunk. Linnéa lights another for herself and they start to walk.

  ‘My mum insisted I came,’ Vanessa answers. She doesn’t want to talk about her fortune –she’d prefer to forget about it. ‘What were you doing there?’ she continues, before Linnéa gets the chance to ask any more questions.

  ‘Just picking up some stuff,’ Linnéa says, with a grin, and shows her a packet of incense she’d hidden in her other boot.

  Vanessa’s impressed.

  When they reach Storvall Park they stop beside the fountain.

  ‘Have you been back to the fairground?’ Linnéa asks.

  Rebecka has tried to get Vanessa there several times, but she’s
always said she’s seeing Wille or Michelle and Evelina. She doesn’t want to think about what happened that night.

  Doesn’t want it in her life.

  ‘No. Have you?’ she asks,

  ‘No,’ Linnéa says, barely audibly. ‘I want to know why Elias died, but I don’t know what to do’

  ‘Maybe we should meet up with the others,’ Vanessa says, after a while. ‘Try to find out what’s going on.’

  ‘If I do anything, I’m going to do it by myself,’ Linnéa answers curtly.

  Vanessa takes a drag and tries to hide how disgusting it tastes.

  Behind Linnéa she sees one of the drunks who usually hang out in the park. He’s dancing an odd little jig on the greyish-brown grass. Totally gone in the head. But nice, Vanessa knows that because she used to get him to buy booze for her from the off-licence before she met Wille.

  Linnéa tosses her cigarette on to the ground and pains-takingly grinds it out with her boot. Suddenly she looks annoyed. Is she afraid that Vanessa’s going to ask to come home with her?

  ‘I’ve got to go,’ Vanessa says, to make it clear she’s not trying to become best friends.

  Linnéa doesn’t answer.

  Behind her the drunk is shaking his head. He staggers forward unsteadily, approaching them with jerky movements. ‘Hello!’ he calls.

  ‘Hi,’ Vanessa shouts back, and hopes he’ll be satisfied with that.

  But he continues towards them. ‘Linnéa, the light and joy of my life!’ he calls, in the slurring, broken voice that all drunkards seem to acquire sooner or later.

  ‘Friend of yours?’ Vanessa asks, with a little laugh.

  Linnéa doesn’t answer. She just walks away.

  ‘Linnéa!’ the lush shouts again.

  He stops short in his bizarre dance, rocking back and forth, looking after Linnéa with empty eyes and gaping mouth.

  Linnéa speaks to him so softly that Vanessa barely catches what she says.

  ‘’Bye, Dad.’

  15

  WHEN ANNA-KARIN OPENS the front door she is met by the smell of freshly baked bread. A smile spreads across her face.

  ‘Hi, sweetheart, are you back from school?’ her mother calls from the kitchen.

  ‘Yes!’ Anna-Karin shouts back, as she hangs her jacket on the hook in the hall. She’s barely had a chance to take off her shoes before her mother rushes up and gives her a warm hug. She doesn’t stink of cigarettes because she’s stopped smoking. And the house smells of bread, soft soap and fresh air.

  ‘How was school today?’ her mother asks, letting go.

  ‘Good. I got everything right in the history test.’

  ‘My clever girl!’ her mother says proudly.

  Anna-Karin doesn’t feel guilty that she guessed everything, then used her power on the teacher. She has some rules: she avoids manipulating her teachers as far as she can, and never uses her power on the science teachers, only on those who teach unnecessary subjects, like history, German and PE. None of that’s going to be of any use to her as a vet. And what would be the point of learning a load of meaningless stuff just to forget it afterwards?

  ‘I was baking some scones, and then it occurred to me that I might as well do some cinnamon buns, too.’ Her mother laughs, wiping a floury hand on her bright apron.

  Her mother’s smile doesn’t reach her eyes, but Anna-Karin doesn’t mind. Soon her mother will discover how good it feels to live life. Then that smile will become genuine, she’s sure.

  Pepper slinks down the stairs and stops at the bottom.

  ‘Hello, sweetie,’ Anna-Karin says, crouching and holding out her hand. Pepper’s eyes glisten yellow-green. His tail ticks guardedly back and forth. He doesn’t come any closer. She can’t understand what’s come over him. Little Pepper, who used to lie in her pocket and purr. ‘Come on, Pepper.’ Anna-Karin beckons. ‘Kss, kss, kss …’

  He doesn’t budge.

  Come here, Anna-Karin thinks, as she looks deep into Pepper’s eyes. Come here now. I just want to cuddle you.

  Pepper hisses at her and bolts back up the stairs.

  ‘Forget it, then,’ Anna-Karin hisses back at him.

  Just then her mobile rings. It’s Rebecka’s number. Can’t she let it go? None of them understands how much Anna-Karin deserves her new life. And she’s not going to apologise for it.

  This will never work, Rebecka thinks. I’ll never manage to bring them together.

  She sticks her mobile into her pocket and looks around for Gustaf in the deserted Citygallerian. He left his scarf at Leffe’s kiosk when he was in there buying chocolate. ‘Wait here, and I’ll run back for it,’ he said.

  He’s been away for a long time. Far too long.

  Rebecka is shifting from one foot to the other, wishing she had something to read. Something other than her biology textbook. She scans the darkened shop windows in which her reflection appears as a shadow. She looks like a ghost inside the empty units. The only light is coming from the newly opened Crystal Cave.

  Rebecka moves closer. The window is crammed with brass pyramids, tarot cards, incense, small angel statuettes and, of course, crystals in every conceivable size, shape, and colour. There is also a display of jewellery, a glittering mass of silver and cheap stones. Most of it looks like junk. But her eyes are drawn to a silver necklace with little red stones. Like tiny drops of blood around the neck. She rests her fingers on the glass. The necklace isn’t her style yet she wants it. She wants to buy it now, at once, and wear it all the time. If only she had the money …

  Rebecka doesn’t know how long she’s been standing there looking at the necklace, when she feels the skin crawl on the back of her neck. Someone’s watching her, she’s sure.

  She focuses her eyes on the reflection in the window. A blurred figure is standing behind her. She can only just make it out in the faint sunlight filtering through the front entrance to the mall, but she instantly recognises it.

  She doesn’t dare turn. A few seconds pass but it feels like eternity. The figure is still standing there.

  She sees someone moving around inside the Crystal Cave. A woman in a denim suit with a shock of blonde hair. She’s walking around, muttering to herself. If she would just look up and see Rebecka. But the woman disappears behind a curtain, and Rebecka realises there wouldn’t be a single witness if that figure were to come after her now. This dark shopping mall is the perfect place to attack someone, even though it’s the middle of the day, in the middle of the town. Her back tenses with fear.

  Rebecka struggles hard to gather her courage. Nothing can be worse than standing there, waiting for something to happen. She tries to convince herself that she’s strong. She has a power she hadn’t known about last time the figure had stalked her.

  She takes a deep breath and turns. Just then she hears the automatic doors open with a faint whisper. The figure has vanished. Gustaf is running towards her, his footsteps echoing against the stone floor. ‘Sorry it took so long,’ he says. ‘Leffe takes his job a little too seriously. I had to describe the scarf to get it back. I’d never thought about what colours the squares were—’

  He breaks off and stares at her probingly. ‘Are you all right?’

  ‘It’s nothing. Did you see anyone on your way in?’

  Gustaf looks at her quizzically. ‘No. Why do you ask?’

  She forces a smile, cheerful and unconcerned. ‘I thought I saw someone I knew, that’s all.’ She turns to the Crystal Cave’s window. ‘Have you seen this new shop? Mostly horrible stuff, but a few nice things.’

  ‘Anything in particular you like?’

  She points at the necklace.

  ‘I knew it,’ says Gustaf, and grins in satisfaction.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Nah, I was just thinking … It’s your birthday soon … I shouldn’t have mentioned it.’

  He laughs and she senses he’s already bought the necklace for her as a present, or at least planned to. He’s like a child. You can see everything in his face.
It’s as if he’s never had to hide anything.

  ‘Just don’t go buying me anything too expensive,’ she says quietly, and hopes she hasn’t hurt his feelings.

  They’ve tried to discuss the money issue, but it’s difficult. Gustaf’s parents have plenty and are happy to share it. By contrast, there’s never anything to spare in Rebecka’s big family. Gustaf always says her family is generous, too, that you give according to your means, which sounds sensible. If she had a lot to give she would. But when you don’t have much, it’s difficult to receive anything.

  ‘You’re so quiet,’ Gustaf says.

  She realises she hasn’t said anything for a while. ‘I was thinking.’

  ‘Sometimes I wish I could see into your head,’ he says, and smiles.

  ‘You’d get bored pretty quickly,’ she answers, and puts her arm around his waist.

  Rebecka studies the photo of her and Gustaf on the wall beside his bed. He had taken it – he had held the camera up to them during a walk by the sluice gates during the first week they were officially going out together.

  She rests her head on his arm, lies close to him and feels the heat of his body.

  ‘I love you,’ he whispers, and his breath is warm against her ear.

  ‘I love you, too.’

  Gustaf’s parents are having dinner at his mother’s boss’s house. But he and Rebecka had been as quiet as always while they had sex. It sticks with you, the knowledge that you have to be careful because someone might hear you or walk in at any moment.

  ‘Are you comfortable like that?’ he mumbles.

  ‘M-hm,’ Rebecka answers. She wriggles a little closer to him. She loves feeling his skin against hers, wants to press every square centimetre of her body against his. Gustaf puts his other arm around her and kisses her forehead.

  The wind is picking up. The terraced house where Gustaf lives is on the last street before the forest takes over on this side of the town. There’s a mass grave from a cholera epidemic out there. They walked past it last summer: a few large blocks of stone mark its location. They felt cold even when the sun was on them and each stone was linked together by a thick black chain.