Nilas closed his eyes, feeling himself blush. The last thing he needed was for his own partner to think he’d been over there to find quick sex. They had been a couple for almost eight years, and with the AIDS epidemic still spreading, they had promised each other early on to stay away from any random encounters. This had never been a question of fidelity—they knew their relationship was about other values—it was about not risking each other’s lives. Neither of them would’ve been able to live with knowing he’d infected the other.
Nilas still remembered when the first-generation AIDS tests had become available in 1985, and they had both gone to the only gay men’s clinic, which had opened in Stockholm, to get tested. Not that they had any real reason to be worried, certainly not Nilas himself, but since Casper had had a couple of partners before they’d met, there was that uncertainty, that risk, however small it may have been.
They’d had to wait for weeks before they’d gotten their results, and they’d both been negative. The relief of that diagnosis meant everything, and they swore each other the holiest of oaths that night to never, ever do anything that might jeopardize that status. Their relationship might not survive the test of time, there was no guarantee for that, but having seen so many of their friends and acquaintances wither away and die in those early years, sexual promiscuity just didn’t seem appealing, at all. It hurt Nilas that Casper even entertained the idea that he’d gone to the park for anything other than a run. But for now, there was nothing he could do.
Casper held his right hand and continued, “I haven’t spoken to the doctor yet, only the nurse. Apparently, someone used a pay phone in the park to alert the rescuers who found you and brought you here. You’ve been out all day. They had to operate on you. Remove your spleen as it had been damaged. That’s all I know. You have a couple of cracked and bruised ribs, and there was some internal bleeding, but nothing life-threatening. You were lucky, for sure. Are you in any pain?”
Nilas slowly moved his head from side to side, trying to signal his no.
Casper nodded. “Good. They probably have you hooked up on morphine or something. I don’t know. Now, please rest. The visiting hours are almost over, okay? I’ll be back in the morning. Is there anything you need from home? I’ll bring you a bag with your toiletries and some clothes. I have no idea how long they’ll keep you here, I think it’ll be a few days.” He got up and kissed Nilas on the forehead before he added, “God, you scared me today! That call to the office. I don’t even know how they found me. Probably because we’re both registered at the same address. I thought I’d lose it. I was in the middle of a lecture when they came for me. I’m not sure I could live without you, beäjvviebájttuo! Please promise me to get well soon. I need you.”
Casper squeezed Nilas’s hand before he turned around and walked out of the room, fresh tears running down his cheeks. Nilas looked up to the ceiling and wondered what he’d done to deserve this.
***
When Nilas woke up again, it was morning outside. The sun was shining through the window of his hospital room. At this time of year, the sun rose early, at around five a.m., and in the next bed, another patient was also awake. Nilas saw how the older man was desperately trying to get the attention of the nurses, looking for the red call button. Nilas had his next to his hand, on the exact spot it had been left the night before. Nilas was one of those people who could sleep without stirring. When he and Casper had first moved in with each other, Casper had often remarked that he had to check his breathing every now and then, just to make sure he was still alive. Nilas pushed the red button to help the old man in the other bed in the room. There were two more beds, but theirs were the only ones currently occupied.
Nilas surmised that he must be at Sahlgrenska University Hospital, Gothenburg’s main hospital, only a fifteen-minute walk, or hike, from their house, on top of the hill extending from the entrance of the Botanical Garden. Sahlgrenska was a huge hospital, and Nilas had no idea where exactly he was. As his thoughts wandered to the comfort of his own home, a nurse entered the room.
“Good morning, Nilas. Did you sleep well?”
Nilas tried again to speak and managed to get out a very raspy, “Good morning, Nurse.”
“That voice needs some water, I think.” The nurse approached and tilted Nilas’s head to offer him a sip of water.
“Thank you, Nurse,” he said, as his dry throat moistened from the water. She offered him another sip. Struggling to get the words out—his throat hurt badly—he managed to say, “I think you should have a look at my friend over there. He was trying to call you, but he can’t find the call button.”
“Oh, thank you.” The nurse gently lowered Nilas’s head back to the pillow and went over to the other man. “Good morning, Pertti. How can I help you?” She repositioned the panic button within the man’s reach; it had fallen off the bed. She pressed it, and soon after, a second nurse came into the room. It was the same one who’d spoken to Nilas the day before.
“Anu, could you help Pertti here to the bathroom? I’ll have a look at Nilas.” The second nurse nodded and walked over to the older man and began to talk quietly to him. Nilas couldn’t hear what she was saying, but soon, she accompanied him to the bathroom. Meanwhile, the first nurse had returned to Nilas’s bed and was checking the monitors.
“I’ll need to switch your IV, and I think your catheter bag needs changing. How are you feeling today?”
It felt odd to Nilas to have the nurse, someone he’d never seen before, address him as if she’d known him her whole life. With some difficulty, he managed to respond, “It hurts.” With his left hand, he managed to point to his face and his abdomen.
The nurse nodded gravely. “I’m not surprised. You were beaten pretty badly, and you’ll be in pain for quite some time. But you survived. That’s the main thing. I can give you something for the pain after I’ve changed your IV and checked the dressings, okay? How bad do you think the pain is, on a scale of one to ten?”
Nilas thought. “Dunno, six or seven?”
“That’s not too bad. The doctor will be here in a couple of hours, doing rounds. I’m sure he’ll want to talk to you about what happened. Now, are you hungry? You won’t be able to chew much, but I could get you some yogurt, maybe? And a cup of coffee? I’ll have to help you, because you shouldn’t be sitting up much yet, not after the spleen surgery.”
“Some yogurt and tea, if you have it.”
“Tea? Yeah, sure. Anything in that tea?”
“Just some lemon and sugar.”
“Coming right up. But first, I’ll need to change these.”
Nilas watched on as the nurse swapped the IV bag and then replaced the catheter bag that hung from the side of the bed. She checked the dressings on the wounds all over his body. Finally, she took Nilas’s temperature, jotting down the results in his charts. Then she left the room.
After a short while, a young man came into the room. “Good morning, Nilas. I’m Tomas, I’m one of the assistant nurses on the ward. I hear from Julia that you wanted some yogurt and tea? Give me a minute and I’ll be right back, okay?” He disappeared again.
Nilas looked up at the ceiling and contemplated his fate. How had this happened to him? What had he done to deserve this? The bathroom door opened, and the nurse and the old man reappeared. She gently guided him back to his bed, whispering to him—it sounded like Finnish, which wasn’t surprising. Sweden had always had close ties to Finland, and had seen a huge influx of guest workers and immigrants after the Second World War, many of whom worked in the shipyards and other industries in Gothenburg.
Nilas couldn’t understand any of it—even though there were some vague similarities to his native Sami—and his thoughts drifted back to wondering about his future. How long will I have to stay here? What really happened? What injuries did I suffer? Will I ever be completely restored? When will the doctor come to see me? When will I be able to go home? Where is Casper? A million questions were running through his mind, and
he was wallowing in self-pity. Dozens of times he’d been to Slottsskogen to run, always the same route. Never had he encountered anyone else, not once. Nobody would ever go there in broad daylight, not for sex, anyway. What had those skinheads been doing there in the middle of the day?
That Gothenburg was a haven for the extreme right wasn’t news to Nilas. He read the papers, but he’d never expected anything like this to happen to him. They didn’t go to the clubs; they didn’t hang out in the city late at night; they didn’t hold hands in public; they were careful. Not careful enough, it seems.
The door to the room opened, and Casper peeked in. “Hey, anybody up?” He smiled when he saw Nilas was awake and approached, walking around the bed to give Nilas a kiss on his forehead, making sure his back blocked the view from the other side of the room, where the nurse Anu was finishing up taking the old man’s vitals. Public displays of affection were frowned upon, and Nilas appreciated Casper’s attempt at keeping this brief moment of intimacy private.
“How are you today?” Casper asked, sitting down on the bed, holding Nilas’s hand. As the nurse left the room, Nilas noticed the disapproving look she cast their way.
“I’m okay. It hurts to talk, though,” Nilas said, every word painfully articulated.
“I can imagine. They didn’t tell me much yesterday, but when they brought you in, you were barely with us. You’d been kicked with what were probably steel-toe-cap boots, and they did a lot of damage. I guess you must’ve also been hurt in your Adam’s apple. And yes, your spleen. They took that out yesterday, in emergency surgery after they’d noticed it was damaged and hemorrhaging.”
“Do you know when I can go home?”
“Oh, beäjvviebájttuo, not for a while. I think they’ll want to keep you here for a few days, to make sure you’re okay. Don’t rush it. You’re safe here, and, quite frankly, better off. I’m no nurse. I wouldn’t know how to change the dressings on your wounds, or change your IV. So please, relax, heal and when you’re ready, they’ll let you go.”
“I hate hospitals!”
“I’m sure you do.” Casper smiled and gently squeezed Nilas’s hand.
Tomas, the assistant nurse, came back into the room and Casper instinctively let go of Nilas’s hand. The young man smiled at Casper and greeted him. “Good morning. I’m Tomas. I work here. I’ve got some breakfast for Nilas. Are you his boyfriend?”
Nilas saw how Casper blushed. Even though he was open for the most part, it was still a bit uncomfortable for him to be called out like this. He nodded, silently.
“Cool. I’m gay, too. So you don’t have to worry about anything with me. Julia, one of the nurses, is cool. The only one who’s homophobic is Anu. She’s Pentecostalist, and yeah, a hopeless case.” Tomas laughed out loud. “Do you want me to help you with this? I guess you shouldn’t sit up yet, with the spleen surgery, and all. We don’t want to stretch the wound.”
Tomas put the tray with the tea and yogurt on the table over Nilas’s bed then helped lift his head. “What would you like first?”
“Some tea, please.”
Gently, and slowly, Tomas brought the cup to Nilas’s sore lips. They were still swollen from the abuse, and Nilas was barely able to open his mouth. “That’s not going to work. Let’s use a straw instead. He inserted the straw that was on the tray into the cup, and looked at Casper. “Can you help me with this?” Casper obliged and together, they helped Nilas to put the straw in his mouth to gently suck on, and drink the tea.
“Now, what about a spoonful of yogurt? Don’t worry about making a mess. I’ll help you clean up, but I’m sure the taste will be refreshing.” Tomas picked up a teaspoon, gathered some yogurt, and gently brought it up to Nilas’s mouth. Nilas opened as much as he could, and Tomas inserted the spoon. Half of the yogurt ended up on his lips.
Casper chuckled at the sight. “I can only imagine how difficult that must’ve been for your mom, when you were a baby…”
Tomas gave Casper a stern look and said, “Don’t you worry about a thing. Before you know it, he’ll be able to take you in again, no problem.”
The look on Casper’s face was priceless. Nilas was so surprised that he had to laugh, which hurt him immensely. Tomas cringed. Clearly, he hadn’t intended to hurt his patient, and that only made Nilas laugh more. Ouch!
Which was when Julia walked in the room.
“Well, well, looks like you’re feeling better. I’m glad you can laugh, because laughter, my friend, is the best medicine known to humanity. Just don’t tell the doctor I said so.” She patted Nilas on the shoulder and turned to Tomas. “They need you in room four.”
“Can I ask you something?” Casper asked, his face still crimson red from Tomas’s joke. Julia nodded. “Do you know how long Nilas will have to be here?”
“I can’t answer that question,” she said as she picked up the spoon and picked up where Tomas had left off. “The doctors will be able to tell you more when they come here at ten.” Casper looked defeated. “Is that a problem?”
“No, not a problem. But I have a lecture at nine. I have to get going soon. But I’ll come by during lunch to see how things are progressing. Maybe by then, the police will have been here, too?”
“I couldn’t say. From what I gather from his papers, his injuries and the assault were reported to the police, but they usually don’t make an appearance until we call them and let them know that the patient is awake. And I don’t think that call is going to be made until rounds are over.”
Casper nodded his understanding. “Listen,” he turned back to Nilas, “I have to get going, but I’ll be back as soon as I can, okay?” He gave Nilas a quick peck on the cheek and got up and left.
“He’s nice,” Julia remarked, “and he seems very worried about you.”
Nilas nodded, carefully swallowing each spoonful of yogurt that Julia fed him.
“How long have you been together?”
“Almost eight years.”
“Wow, that’s awesome. My older brother is gay. But he’s single. And positive. I hope he makes it. The AZT is really killing him, though. The side effects…” There was a sad expression on Julia’s face. “My parents didn’t take it very well. Ove came out just after he’d been diagnosed. He needed help, but Mom and Dad just couldn’t cope. They’re in their seventies—they had us very late—and they just don’t understand. To them, being gay is like choosing frames for your glasses. Just pick the straight one. They just can’t understand that it’s more like the color of your eyes, nothing you can change, right? I mean you can pretend, but yeah. I feel sorry for Ove. He’s a lot older than me, I was an accident, so to speak. He and my sister were already in their teens when I came along.” Julia blushed.
Nilas didn’t know what to say. “I’m so sorry to hear that. It certainly hasn’t been easy, but until yesterday, Casper and I have been lucky. Very lucky. Although, his parents don’t talk much to him anymore, either.” Nilas tried to shrug, but gave up after a jolt of pain soared through his right shoulder.
“You should probably take it easy with certain movements,” Julia scolded him. “I mean, it’s okay to try and move, carefully, and you’ll see what works and where you need to be careful. I don’t exactly know where they hit you, but you have bruises all over your body, so I presume you received a good overall beating. You’re lucky you live to tell the tale. Not everyone’s been that fortunate.”
Nilas gave her a questioning look.
“Well, let me just say that Gothenburg has a bit of a reputation. Beating the crap out of fags is almost a city sport, at least, within certain groups, and it’s not just the nazis and skinheads. It’s quite popular within certain groups of young teens, even girls. Ove’s come home bruised more than once. Particularly those who go to the local gay and lesbian association or the clubs are often harassed and chased. And the city turns a blind eye. They simply don’t care. It’s almost as if they’re grateful for it. People have died.”
Nilas was shocked to hear tha
t, and he saw that Julia regretted her words.
“Grateful is probably the wrong word. But there are certainly elements in our society who wouldn’t mind if this whole gay thing just didn’t exist, if they could pretend as if AIDS didn’t exist, if they didn’t have to spend all that money on awareness campaigns, you know?”
“We just want to live our lives, in peace. Is that too much to ask?” Nilas was deflated. It was so hard to fathom how he’d come to this point, less than twenty-four hours after having been completely happy, without a worry, working on the house. And now, he was in a hospital bed, badly injured and bruised, wondering what he’d done to deserve this.
“No, of course not. At least, I don’t think so. But this whole AIDS epidemic scares people, and they’re misinformed, and they don’t understand things, and that’s why they get scared. You know, for a while, I felt that society was ready to embrace the gay community, but now? I don’t know. Seems to me we’ve taken several steps back.
“Okay, that’s it.” Julia put down the spoon, trying to sound a bit more upbeat. “Well done. The doctor will be here in an hour or so. I suggest you rest, okay?” She swiveled the table back to its original position next to the bed, picked up the tray, and left Nilas to his thoughts.
***
“Nilas Jonsson?” the man asked as he entered the Nilas’s room. Nilas nodded. “My name is Evaldsson, I’m an inspector with the Gothenburg police. I’m here to ask you some questions about your assault, if that’s okay?”
Nilas nodded again. He’d been in the hospital for three days now, and was beginning to feel better. The swelling around his eyes and his mouth had gradually reduced, his throat and larynx didn’t hurt as much anymore, and he had begun light physical therapy to keep his muscles moving and his joints flexible. He’d been taken off the IV and was allowed to sit up and eat and even walk a few steps with the help of one of the assistant nurses or the physical therapist. But he was still very wobbly on his feet.
“I understand you were assaulted over in Slottsskogen, near Bragebacken. Is that correct?”
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