by Willow Rose
“A true Columbian Necktie, yes.”
He wrinkled his forehead. “That sounds nasty.”
“It was.” I finished my drink and could feel the effect. Helped calm me down. “A kid, some teenager admitted to having done it in a letter to Maya. It’s all a mess.”
“You want me to get you another one?” he asked.
I shook my head. “No. The kids are coming home in a little while, and I’ve invited almost everyone we know over for dinner, so I have to cook all afternoon. I can’t be drunk. I don’t have the time.”
Morten chuckled. I put my head on his shoulder. “So, how was your meeting?”
Morten exhaled.
“That bad, huh?” I said. “Maybe I should pour you a drink?”
“Nah. I’ll get some red wine later tonight. That should be enough.”
I lit up. “You’re staying the night?”
“Oh, yeah. Jytte is at a friend’s house anyway.”
“A party?”
Morten shrugged. “I hope not.”
“At that age, you never know,” I said, thinking of how much I used to party when I was in high school. I thought of Maya and wondered when it would start for her. Usually, Danish kids started drinking at the age of thirteen or fourteen, but I didn’t think she had started yet. I was happy she hadn’t, since I thought it was way too early, but I hoped that she still had a good social life, and that she wasn’t missing out. Nah, it would come eventually. I wasn’t really looking forward to having to pick her up at someone’s house all wasted, so I was in no hurry.
“So what did the chief of police say?” I asked.
“There was an entire committee there. I told them my story. Told them how we’re being harassed. I’m still suspended, but they told me they had heard my story and they’d wait for the investigation to be done before they made their final decision. I did what I could, now it’s no longer in my hands. They’re not going to find any more bad things on my computer, so now it’s up to them whether they’ll give me the benefit of the doubt.”
I put my arm around his neck and hugged him from behind. “I’m sure you’ll get your job back soon.”
“I hope so. I miss it.”
I was trying to think of something truly comforting to say, when the kids suddenly came home. I served them afternoon tea with toasted bread and jam.
“When can we go look for a new dog?” Maya asked.
“Done,” Victor exclaimed, then jumped out of his chair and sprang for the yard. “Don’t forget your jacket!” I yelled after him.
“So, when can I?” Maya repeated.
I exhaled and sipped my tea. I really wasn’t in the mood to have to go down to that shelter once again and pick out a dog. “Dr. Sonnichsen will be here any moment,” I said. “So, it’ll have to wait.”
“So, maybe after we’re done?” Maya said.
“I…” Maya’s eyes were pleading. I felt so bad for her. She had really loved Kenneth. “I’ve invited Sophia and the kids and grandma and grandpa over for dinner. I have a ton of work…”
Maya jumped out of her chair and stomped her feet. “I knew it! I knew you wouldn’t keep your promise. It’s so UNFAIR!” she yelled and stormed out the door. I heard her angry steps on the stairs and then her door slam hard. Music was soon thumping.
Morten chuckled. “Glad to see that she’s getting better,” he said.
I grabbed another piece of toast and put jam on it. The doorbell rang, and I went to open it. It was Dr. Sonnichsen. She was holding an umbrella over her head. The rain was pouring heavily outside.
“Good afternoon,” she chirped, as she closed the umbrella.
“Maya’s upstairs,” I said. “She’s a little upset. We…well, Kenneth died last night. She’ll tell you the rest.”
“Naturally,” Dr. Sonnichsen said. She seemed to be completely unmoved by the fact that the dog had died.
“I’ll talk to her,” she simply said.
“Thanks. You really are a lifesaver. I wouldn’t know what to do without you.” I closed the door behind her and let her walk inside. Brutus was sitting at the bottom of the stairs, blocking her way.
“Hi, Brutus,” Dr. Sonnichsen said, and approached him.
The dog stared at her with its white piercing eyes. Then he did something I had never seen him do. He got up, raised the hair on his back, and growled at the doctor.
“Brutus!” I said. I looked at the doctor. She seemed perplexed. “I’m sorry. He doesn’t usually do this. Brutus, move away from the stairs!”
Brutus didn’t move an inch. The doctor whimpered and pulled back.
“I’m sorry. He usually never growls,” I said.
“Well, he is a pit bull, isn’t he? They’re known to be the nicest of dogs, then suddenly one day, turn on their owner for no apparent reason.”
I looked at the doctor, who tried to squeeze by the dog. I had never heard that before. I grabbed Brutus’ collar and pulled him back. He turned and snarled at me.
“Brutus!” I said, while Dr. Sonnichsen disappeared up the stairs. I couldn’t believe he had growled at me. To be honest, he was scaring me more than ever. Especially after what the doctor had said. I wondered if it was safe to have him in the house, this close to my children.
Victor came in through the patio door. “Brutus!”
The dog immediately reacted. It wagged its tail and walked towards him like a completely different dog.
“Brutus. Where did you go? We were in the middle of a game. Come.”
I watched as the dog walked off with my son. Morten put his arm around me.
“Can you believe that?” I asked. “I tell you, that dog freaks me out. I can’t have him growling at people coming to my house. I’m afraid he might attack someone some day.”
Morten chuckled. “I’m sure it’ll be fine. Now, what were you planning on making for dinner?”
“Dinner! I completely forgot. I’m having company in just three hours, and I have no idea what to make yet.”
52
November 2014
“HI, MAYA, HOW ARE you today?”
The numerologist walked in the door to Maya’s room and found her on the bed. She was crying. Music was pounding from the speakers on the floor. The numerologist turned the music down.
“Oh my, Maya. Are you alright?” She sat on the bed and looked at the girl. Maya hid her head in her pillow. “It’s okay, sweetheart. You can tell me what’s wrong. I won’t tell anyone.”
Maya said something into the pillow, but nothing but muffled sounds came out.
“I heard something bad happened to Kenneth?” the numerologist said. “I’m so sorry to hear that he was killed. I can’t believe anyone could do such a cruel thing to your poor dog.”
Maya moved the pillow. “Killed?”
The numerologist smiled. “Yes.”
Maya looked like she didn’t believe her. The numerologist wondered if she had said too much. Apparently, the girl didn’t know.
“Well, let’s not talk about that anymore,” the numerologist said. “I understand you being upset. It is hard to lose your dog.”
Maya sat up. “What do you mean he was killed?”
The numerologist reached into her bag and pulled out a book. “Let’s not talk anymore. Today, I thought we should look into…”
“You mean to tell me someone killed my dog?” Maya continued. She was not letting this go.
“Well yes, or…I don’t know, Maya.”
“Was that why she didn’t want me to see him before we buried him? What happened to him?”
“I don’t know, Maya. Maybe you should ask your mother about that. I don’t even know if he was killed or maybe he died of natural causes. Maybe he ate something.”
Maya shook her head. “No. No. You said you couldn’t believe anyone would do something that cruel. That’s what you just said. You know what happened, don’t you? Spit it out. I want to know.”
The numerologist felt sweat break out on her forehead. She
closed her book and looked at Maya. “Now, Maya. I’m not going to say this more than once…”
The numerologist stopped when the doorbell rang downstairs and voices suddenly filled the house. They weren’t ordinary voices. They were angry voices, people yelling downstairs.
“What on earth is going on?” the numerologist asked.
“Maya walked to the door and opened it. “I don’t know. But one of the voices sounds like it belongs to my dad.”
She walked into the hallway and the numerologist followed. They stood on top of the stairs and listened to the angry yelling. Maya’s dad was the one yelling the loudest.
“I am taking him with me now. He’s not going to spend one more day in the company of that sex offender, that…that pervert. I can’t believe you’d expose my son to that. I can’t believe you, Emma! Where is he?”
Maya’s father stepped forward in a threatening motion.
“You’re not taking him, Michael,” Emma yelled back. “Nothing has been settled yet. As far as I know, we still have joint custody over him. And he’s staying here until you have a court’s order that states otherwise. He’s my son, Michael.”
“Goddammit, Emma. He’s my son too.”
The numerologist stared at the scene with a huge smile she couldn’t restrain. This was excellent. By far, better than anything she had hoped for.
“I’m going to get him now, Emma. You can’t stop me. You can’t keep me from him. I’m his father, for crying out loud. I want him. And I’m taking him now.”
Michael stepped forward, when Emma’s boyfriend Morten stepped out in front of him. “You’re not going anywhere. This is private property, and you’re trespassing right now. You’re not welcome here.”
Michael looked at Morten, then lifted his clenched fist in the air and smacked him. Morten fell backwards. Emma Frost screamed.
“You bastard!”
The numerologist felt like clapping and dancing. This was so much FUN!
Morten was back on his feet now and took a swing at Michael. He hit him on the jaw and Michael fell backwards. Michael then stormed forward and tumbled Morten to the ground. Morten kicked and managed to get Michael off him. Michael grabbed him by the collar and lifted him up, then swung his fist and hit him twice in the face. Emma screamed. The numerologist laughed. Emma grabbed a lamp from the small table, swung it, and smashed it on Michael’s head. He fell backwards to the ground with a loud yell. Emma stood bent over him, still with the remains of the lamp in her hand. She looked like she would hit him with it again, but instead, she yelled.
“Get the hell out of here, you bastard.”
Michael got up to his feet. Humping and whining, he got out of the front door. Morten ran after him.
“If I ever see you again, I swear, I’m gonna kill you!” he yelled.
The numerologist stayed on the stairs with a big smile on her face.
Oh, will you now?
53
November 2014
“I’M NOT GOING TO lie to you. It doesn’t look good.”
Merethe looked at Lisa over her glasses. She was still standing in the doorway of Lisa’s house. It was early morning. Lisa hadn’t gotten the kids out of the house yet, and Christian was upstairs in the shower. Usually, Lisa wouldn’t have let anyone come over this early, but Merethe had insisted on the phone that it was important. She had a crumb on her chin. Had she gained weight since yesterday? Lisa believed she had. She looked chubby; her leggings were tight on her. People that chubby shouldn’t be wearing leggings at all, in Lisa’s opinion.
“May I come in?”
Lisa moved out of her way, and Merethe walked in. She took off her coat and put it on a chair. Lisa scoffed, then found a hanger and put the coat in the closet where it belonged. Merethe walked into the living room, still wearing her shoes. It made Lisa’s skin crawl. She hated when people didn’t take off their shoes in her home. Her white carpets stained so easily.
“Mom, where is my backpack?” Amalie came out from the kitchen and looked at her mother. It was amazing how helpless children could be, even at the age of fifteen, Lisa thought, and pointed at the backpack leaned neatly up against the wall in the hallway, all packed and ready for her daughter to simply pick it up and run out the door. Just like it always was. How hard was it to know after all these years?
“Thanks,” Amalie said, then sprang for the door.
Not even a proper goodbye.
“Let’s do this in the kitchen,” Lisa said, looking at Merethe’s dirty shoes that were already planted solidly on her white carpet. Lisa took in a deep breath, trying hard to calm herself down. In the kitchen, Merethe took out an iPad and tapped on it. Lisa wondered if Christian would be able to drop off Jacob in time for his classes to start. Margrethe was running around the kitchen with a doll in her arms. She approached Merethe with a small shriek, and gave her leg a hug. Lisa picked her up and put her on her lap.
“These are today’s articles,” Merethe said, and handed Lisa the iPad so she could see. She read the headline of the local paper.
IS LISA RASMUSSEN A RACIST?
“It’s basically all the same,” she said. “Even the local bloggers are writing about it. They all think your remarks about Asians were very racist. It’s not good. Your numbers are down. If they continue like this, you’ll end up losing the election on Tuesday.”
Lisa scrolled the article frantically, while Margrethe tried to reach out for it. Lisa felt like her blood was boiling. What was this? How could they be this stupid? Hadn’t she just said what everyone else was thinking?
“I…I don’t understand,” she said.
“Lisa. You can’t make racist remarks against a certain group of people,” Merethe explained. “Remarks like those you made yesterday will make people turn their backs on you. It can break a political career in an instant. You have to be more careful. Now, the way I see it, we still have many good things to work on, but we need serious damage control. We need to turn the people’s mood. We need to get the voters back somehow. What we need is something big. Something that brings people’s sympathy back towards you.”
Lisa stared at the article. Christian came into the kitchen. Margrethe saw her father and reached out for him. He grabbed her in his arms.
“Well, we’re off,” he said. “You girls have a good time.”
Lisa hardly noticed him. She waved, distracted, while still looking at the article. “Hmmm, bye, sweetie.”
The door slammed and Lisa finally looked up at Merethe. “So, how do we do that?” she asked. “How do we bring the sympathy back?”
Merethe shrugged. “I have no idea. I thought you might be able to come up with something good?”
Lisa stared at her campaign manager.
Is that dirt underneath her nails?
Who did she thinks she was anyway? She was the one Lisa was paying a lot of money to make sure she won this election. She was supposed to come up with the ideas here.
Yes, it’s definitely dirt. Doesn’t she ever wash her hands? Think of all the diseases and germs that could be under her nails. She brings that into my house?
“Well, I guess we’ll have to put our heads together and come up with something, won’t we?” Merethe said, and finally removed the crumb with her dirty nails when she scratched herself on the chin. The crumb fell onto the kitchen table, and Lisa stared at it, wondering if Merethe would pick the germ filled dirty crumb up herself, or if she expected Lisa to do it.
54
November 2014
“DINNER WAS GREAT YESTERDAY.”
Morten leaned over and kissed me gently. I smiled and held his face between my hands.
“Yes it was,” I said. “It was so nice just to hang out with everybody that I love.”
“Even though Sophia’s kids were quite noisy at the table,” Morten said.
“Well, she’s got a lot on her plate, having six children. You need to cut her some slack. I don’t know how I would survive.”
Morten kissed m
e again and put his head on my chest afterwards. It was nice having a quiet morning in his arms. The kids were already awake. I could hear them in the bathroom. I closed my eyes and enjoyed the few seconds I had left.
“I’m glad that part is all over,” Morten said. “Having young kids and all. I’m glad I’m not having any more of them.”
“Me too,” I said, holding him close to me.
I heard the kids in the hallway and pushed Morten off me. “I’ve got to get up,” I said. “I need to prepare breakfast for the kids.”
“Not now,” Morten growled. “Can’t we stay like this for a little longer…say, like forever?”
I got up from the bed and threw a sock at him. “No. Get up!”
Morten laughed and jumped out of bed. I put on some sweats, thinking I’d take a shower later, once the kids were off.
In the kitchen, Victor was already sitting on his chair, staring at the table. Brutus was sitting behind him like he was guarding his back.
“Good morning, buddy,” I said, while putting bread in the toaster.
“Technically, you don’t know if it is going to be a good morning or not until it’s over,” he answered.
“Wow, someone’s in a good mood,” I said.
“As a matter of fact, you’re right. I am in a good mood.”
I poured him some juice, and served it to him. Victor never got irony. “That’s great, buddy. I’m glad you’re in a good mood.”
The toasted bread was done, and I buttered it for him and put some jelly on top and served it. Maya stormed in and threw herself on a chair. Morten followed.
“Any coffee yet?” he asked.
I looked at the coffeemaker. Water had started to run through. “Not yet. But soon.”
“Why didn’t you tell me Kenneth was killed?” Maya asked.
My heart dropped. I turned to look at her. “What?”
“Why didn’t you tell me someone killed him?” she repeated.