When I Wake Up

by Jessica Jarlvi

  “My wife knew Anna.”

  “Right…”

  “Anyway, I wish her a speedy recovery.”

  The dodgy looking artist presses his palm into Erik’s before walking off.

  “How weird was that?” he says to Mum.

  “You can’t be upset with people for being friendly.”

  He looks around, aware that he hasn’t seen the boys for some time.

  “Can you see Sebastian and Lukas?”

  Mum looks around. “They were just here…”

  Were they now? If only you hadn’t let them run off! His pulse is quickening as he looks left and right but there’s no sign of them. He searches through the crowd, which at that moment starts to sing about spring, backed by the local church choir.

  “They’re probably off playing with their friends,” Mum says.

  “They’re only five!”

  “You ran around at five,” she says but she doesn’t understand. I can’t lose them too.

  “What if they’re too close to the fire?” he says to get Mum to react.

  “Then someone will pull them back.”

  People are either busy singing or drinking, he doubts they would notice the children. He circles the outskirts of the crowd, words of fresh, playful winds and streams following him around. Every time he sees a little boy he thinks it’s Sebastian or Lukas but it’s not. They’re wearing matching, bright green jackets, bought by Anna during the sales season. They should be visible.

  When he’s rushed around the fire and pushed his way through the people, no longer caring who knows what about him, he returns to Mum.

  “I can’t find them,” he says, out of breath.

  Was Pernilla there after all? He realises that she quite possibly could have taken his children to deliberately piss him off. They trust her and would absolutely follow her if she asked them to.

  “They must be here somewhere,” Mum says. “Go and look behind the trees. Maybe they’re playing hide and seek?”

  “Why do you have to be so fucking calm?!”

  He storms off.

  Where are my boys?

  Chapter 52 – Erik

  April 2016

  Erik runs over the grassy sand dunes, the cold grabbing hold of him as the distance from the fire grows. There are other children around and he asks them if they’ve seen two boys in green jackets. They shake their heads and run off. Frustrated, Erik starts running too, like a mad man, he looks behind, even under, every single pine tree in sight.

  “Sebastian! Lukas! Where are you?”

  Someone offers to help him look and then there are more of them. He doesn’t have time to thank them, he just keeps going, and then he hears a voice out of nowhere that sounds familiar.

  “That’s cool!”

  “Sebastian?”

  His heart is beating so fast, it could very well be an upcoming heart attack, he thinks, and calls again: “Sebastian? Lukas?” Please.

  “We’re here.”

  They brush past a tree branch, grinning mischievously.

  “Bloody hell, where have you been? You scared me!” He gets down on his knees and hugs them tightly. “Don’t ever run away from me again, okay?”

  “Don’t worry, Daddy. We were with the boy with the cool jacket.”

  “Who?”

  “The boy who was cycling outside the nursery, the one who knows Mum.”

  “Oh. Is he here?”

  The boy appears from behind a branch and steps in front of Erik and the boys.

  “We were just playing. Sorry if you got scared.”

  “They just don’t normally run off like that.”

  “Well, we were having fun. Weren’t we?”

  “Your name is David, right?”

  The boy nods.

  “Thanks for looking after them.”

  “No problem, if you ever need a babysitter, I would be happy to help.”

  Erik vaguely remembers someone else suggesting he should get a babysitter. Black Adam? Why are people so obsessed with him getting out?

  “That’s okay,” he starts but Lukas is pulling at his jacket. “Please, Daddy,” he whispers. “David loves Lego and he’s promised to build a really cool ship with us. You know, for all our Lego people?”

  Right. “Why don’t you come over and hang out with the boys sometime?”

  Maybe he can tell Erik about school, what Anna was up to. He needs to catch up on everything she’s told him that he hasn’t listened to.

  “Sure.”

  “How about this weekend? Saturday at ten?”

  The boy smiles. He high fives the boys and is off.

  *

  They head back to the fire when Erik’s phone starts to ring. He expects it to be Mum, wondering if he’s found the boys, but it’s the hospital.

  “You better come,” someone says.

  This is the call he’s been waiting for.

  “Has she stopped breathing?”

  He tells the boys to quickly get Grandma, his life with Anna passing by like a silent movie.

  “I don’t want you to get too excited because it’s still early…”

  Has Anna moved? “Is she okay? Can she talk?”

  “We’re not quite sure yet.”

  “You’ve got to give me something,” he shouts. “I can’t drive for twenty minutes wondering? Don’t you get that?”

  “Erik.” Mum has appeared at his side, her hand resting on his arm. “Calm down.”

  But he can’t. He’s shaking with built-up anger.

  “Tell me!” he spits. “Tell me now!”

  The person on the other side of the line hesitates. Is it a nurse? A doctor? An administrator? He wants someone with authority, someone who can offer a confident explanation.

  Eventually the person on the line speaks: “She is awake.”

  Chapter 53 – Rolf

  February 2016

  Frida had become increasingly demanding and Rolf wasn’t sure how long he could keep it up. Daily texts and phone calls, often in the middle of the night, was normally the reminder he needed – affairs should be brief – but Iris had gone away for the weekend and although she hadn’t confirmed it, he was sure the teacher was involved.

  He went over to Frida’s to see if the kid knew about his teacher’s whereabouts but it turned out he was locked up in his room like some five-year-old being punished for a temper tantrum. Not that he was complaining, it was nice having him out of the way.

  “Hej, babe.”

  The place was damp and chilly, as if the heating wasn’t working properly, but Frida didn’t seem to notice. She was tipsy. And badly bruised. She always did have a few black marks here and there. That was apparently part of working at a factory, but it was worse than normal.

  “Get into a fight?” he asked, pulling her close.

  “Something like that.”

  “Looks pretty bad.”

  “Nothing a bit of love can’t heal.”

  Her manipulation worked. He needed a shag to take his mind off things, and to warm up.

  This time he tied her up. She was drunk enough to agree to anything, so it was easy. She was loud though. Louder than normal, and the kid kept banging on the wall. There was a lot of ‘shut the fuck up’ and at one point, Rolf had to really focus to remember that he was having sex with Frida only, because at times it felt like a sick threesome.

  He realised that he must be a masochist to put up with this. Frida was useless at getting information out of the kid – all he knew was where Anna lived, that she was married with two children, and that she had been voted Teacher of the Year the previous year. All very ordinary, non-juicy stuff.

  “You’re leaving already?”

  “Gotta go.”

  The problem with the kid being locked up was that he couldn’t talk to him. It would seem desperate to communicate through a door. He needed to come up with another idea.

  “Will you come over later?” she asked.

  “Sorry,” he said. “I have to se
e my daughter.”

  It was true, he had planned to go to Gothenburg for a couple of days while Iris was away. If nothing else worked, he wouldn’t hesitate to use Karin, who definitely wouldn’t want to see her parents apart.

  *

  When he arrived home, he planned to pack, but first he had to write an email from Xeroxwed. He would send it to Anna after the weekend. Even though Anna hadn’t responded to his earlier emails, he had to assume she was reading them. She would definitely think they were from Iris. Wednesday book club meetings and fucking up against the Xerox copying machine – who else would know about that other than Iris? And should she mention the emails to Iris, which he didn’t think she would, but if she did, then he knew Iris well enough: she would keep a straight face and realise how serious he was about hanging on to her.

  Xeroxwed wrote:

  After this weekend, the sex… well, I’m not sure you’re up for this. I don’t want to see you again.

  Chapter 54 – Daniel

  February 2016

  While locked up in his room for a whole fucking weekend without a phone or even toilet breaks, Dan had spent his time shitting in a bag. He had tried to break the door down several times but despite his strong arms it wouldn’t budge. It was freezing cold as well, the windows specked with ice, the air in his room stale.

  Frida would be lucky to be alive by the time he got out. Apart from sinister murder plans which involved poisoning her vodka, he had also put some careful thought into his next move with Anna.

  He didn’t want to threaten Anna via email, SMS or a handwritten note. That was too much evidence. He would have to see her in person. The temporary school parking lot seemed to be the best place. Mörna School didn’t have a sophisticated surveillance system, and there were no cameras in the gravel-filled plot serving as parking while the new canteen was being built.

  After having to endure Frida’s sexual circus next door over the weekend and the smell of shit was about to drive him crazy, she had eventually let him out. On one condition: he would have to agree to hug her for two whole minutes. She would time it with her phone. It had seemed ridiculous and even though he had imagined hugging her so tight she would be strangled, it was still too stupid. He was not a child.

  “I don’t want your saggy tits on my chest,” he had said.

  That hadn’t gone down too well. She hadn’t spoken to him for half an hour. Then she must have gotten lonely because she had given him a second chance. She was all for second and third and fourth chances, Frida. God knew they had given her many.

  “Okay, fine.” What choice did he have? Soon the saggy tits would be replaced with Anna’s full bosom. Her breasts were large. Firm.

  “I have one more condition now,” she had said.

  “What is it now?”

  “I want to know about your teacher. Anna. The one who came to our house.”

  Anna’s name coming from his mother’s mouth had made him feel cold. What the hell did she want to know about Anna for? Had she rummaged through the papers under his bed? The violation of his privacy. Had he mentioned Anna’s name there? He believed he had been discreet enough not to. Oh. The photos! She would have seen the photos. Fuck.

  He had taken a deep breath to sound calm. “What do you want to know?”

  “Is she nice?”

  “Yes.”

  “So you like her?”

  “Yes.”

  She had paused.

  “Are you…” She had sounded as if she were about to cry. “Are you in love with her?”

  What? No. Please. It had sounded so unbelievable when verbalised. Made up.

  “Of course not.”

  “Are you sure? You just seem to really, really like her.”

  “Come on, Mum.” Not Frida this time. Anything was fair in love and war. “You know I like to write and she’s very supportive of that in her class.”

  She had cried then. The word ‘Mum’ had that affect on her.

  “Is she twisting your head?” she had said in-between sobs.

  “No! She’s just a cool teacher.”

  She had opened the door to let him out and she had clung to him as if he were saving her life and for a tiny second he had felt guilty about his plan. What would happen to her when he left? Would the Nissan dude move in? Would they shack up and have more children? Most likely she wouldn’t want more mouths to feed. He pushed the image away. From now on, it was her life and she could do whatever she wanted to. He was heading somewhere. Onward and upward, as they said.

  “Got to go,” he said and peeled her arms off.

  *

  He waited on his bike. If he was lucky, Kent the creep wouldn’t be with Anna and he could cycle right up to her and deliver his blackmail message. Plan B was to go to her house and ring the doorbell. He would ask to speak to her privately and she would have to step outside. Plan C was to take Frida’s dude’s car and go to the library and deliver the message there. He didn’t much care if the other woman saw him. He was in control now.

  As he waited, he wondered how Anna would react. He didn’t want to anger her after all; his wholesome, down to earth, sexy Anna. But would she cry? Would she beg him not to tell anyone? Would she embrace him, agree to anything as long as he left the matter alone? He had a feeling she wouldn’t. She was feisty.

  After about twenty minutes, Anna appeared. She had a serious look on her face and her steps were determined, which made him hesitate. Was she already upset with him? Did she know that he had been spying on her? He had missed school and hadn’t been able to send any emails. For a brief second he wondered if she was upset because he hadn’t emailed her.

  Less sure of himself, he wheeled his bike towards her. She looked up but kept walking.

  “Hi,” he said.

  “Hi, Daniel.”

  “Eh…” Shit, this was not how it was supposed to go. It had sounded so good in his head, so easy. I saw you.

  She opened the car door and hauled her bags in. As she was about to get in herself, he said: “Wait, I need to talk to you.”

  She turned to him and said: “Not now, Daniel. I have something important…”

  “No,” he said. Please don’t do this. Why was she being so rude?

  The stern look on her face. “I’m sorry,” she said. “It’s just that I have to go.”

  But she couldn’t go. Not when he finally had her attention.

  “Do you like it when I send you emails?” he asked.

  “What?” She looked at him quizzically. “I don’t understand.”

  It was as if she was waiting for an explanation. Would he give her one? No.

  “I don’t exactly mind,” she said then. “It’s just that you send so many, which can be stressful. It would be good if you slowed down the traffic.”

  “Okay,” he said. “I will do that.” Except, no. He realised he wouldn’t. “I need your help, Anna. To have a normal life, you know.”

  “Yes, I do know,” she said. “You have written that many times, but I can’t help you with that. Not even if I wanted to.”

  She wanted to?

  “So, you mean… you want to help me?”

  “Of course.”

  He straightened up, felt the acceptance, the feeling of a warm comforting blanket, Christmas with a real tree, newly baked gingerbread biscuits.

  “Does that mean I can move in?”

  She sighed and her expression drastically changed his illusion: the blanket suddenly with holes, the tree made of plastic, the biscuits stale. And that angered him. Was she trying to fool him?

  “Is that a ‘no’?” he said, his teeth clenched even though he had meant to portray a calm and mature attitude.

  “Daniel, why don’t we meet and talk about it tomorrow?” she suggested. “I have to leave, I have an important…”

  “Yeah, I know,” he interrupted. “Something important.” That doesn’t include me. Before she said anything else – he didn’t want to hear her excuses – he said what he had come to say,
because there was clearly no other way.

  “I saw you,” he said. “And now you will do what I say.”

  “What?” she said. “What are you talking about?”

  “You belong to me now!” he said, his words forceful. He needed to make her understand that he was in charge. Not her. Perhaps it had been unrealistic to expect her to shout ‘Oh, Dan. Fuck me!’ at that point but he had at least hoped she would break down in tears and make herself vulnerable.

  “Dan,” she said firmly, placing a hand on his arm and he looked at her fingers, the light-pink nail polish, the bent knuckles, squeezing his bicep. Maybe he hadn’t been too unrealistic after all? But her tone didn’t sound loving. The battle within him; the confusion she caused. He wanted to flick her hand away to show her that he was the boss, but he also wanted to move closer, to smell her hair, burrow his nose in it, let her hold him. Could he do that? Would she let him? He leaned his head forward and rested it on her shoulder. Shut his eyes and let her feminine scent soothe him.

  He felt her move closer, felt her arms wrapped around his back, holding him. This feeling, he needed to savour it, to mentally lock it in his memory. Then she grabbed his arms and pushed him away.

  “Daniel,” she said. “I really care about you, but…”

  He didn’t want to hear ‘but’, and without thinking, he just acted to stop her from speaking. His lips landed on hers and he kissed her. He decided to let his tongue lose, to taste her, really taste her, but she pressed her hands into his chest and shoved him back. Not as gently as before. This was rough. The pressure made her fall back onto her car door while he tripped over his bike and landed on the ground.

  They looked at each other. She seemed paralysed, she just stood there. He could feel her ‘I care for you’ evaporate, her disgust for him taking over.

  He wanted to get back at her. He wanted revenge. “I saw you and that woman,” he said, spitting the words out.

  The horror in her eyes. He enjoyed it as much as the kiss.

  “What woman?” she asked.

  She clearly tried to remain composed. It wasn’t good enough. He needed her to sweat, to understand that this was some real shit.