Chapter 31-32

31.

"With every day, and from both sides of my intelligence, the moral and the intellectual, I thus drew steadily nearer to the truth, by whose partial discovery I have been doomed to such a dreadful shipwreck: that man is not truly one, but truly two."

Robert Louis Stevenson, Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde

 

She lay in bed the whole night; staring out in the dark, waiting for the sun to rise. In her brain a string of words slithered around in a circle, on constant repeat. Interaction. Not responsible. Send me your address and I will mail your bracelet.

  At 5:15 she got out of bed. The floor was not stable under her feet. She rocked back and forth a few times before she was able to walk down the stairs. The sun was about to rise but it was still dark. She stepped out barefoot on the cold grass. Saw the moon still up, a Cheshire Cat smile.

Would you tell me, please, which way I ought to go from here?

No answer as usual! She stood still in the early morning, tried to find something to hold on to. Something that would make the world make sense and feel real.

 Slowly she walked back in the house, wrote a note and left it on the kitchen table. Grabbed her cell phone and ran out the door. Ran down the empty streets. Ran into the park. Stood panting under the big trees.

Dialed his number, two rings then straight to voice mail.

Dialed his number again, two rings then straight to voice mail.

She texted with shaking fingers.

 

 I will keep calling until you pick up.

 I was willing to risk my marriage for you.

 Pick up the phone! I deserve some answers.

 

She called four more times but he didn’t answer.

She yelled at the trees and the pond.

“What a fucking asshole! What a fucking coward! “

She was close to throwing the fucking phone in the pond. But she was able to calm down a fraction. Then she started to laugh. She laughed and laughed! A laugh close to crying, but the tears were not ready yet.

She walked home with a sense of relief.

He was too good to be true. I knew it!

No one was up yet when she came home and she went straight back to bed. John woke up and reached for her. She wished she could crawl into his arms and cry but of course she couldn’t do that. That would be disgustingly selfish. That would be sickeningly egotistic. That would be horribly narcissistic. And one thing she would never do was to put this pain on John’s shoulders. Never ever!

“Have you been outside?” he asked quietly.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“I’m not feeling good so I went outside for some fresh air.”

“Maybe Anna’s cold is getting to you.”

“Maybe.”

Dear husband you should only know.

Anna started to cough and not long after did she come out of her room.

“Stay in bed,” John said and got up.

Kristin rolled to her side and stared at the wall. Feeling numb and dazed.  Her brain would not form one coherent thought. The numbness was gentle and relaxing but she did not fall asleep. She listened through the floor; heard Anna coughing and John talking quietly and then Jack woke up and stomped out of his room. The sounds of her family doing regular, normal morning things. But the sounds didn’t even leave an imprint on her consciousness.

There was no energy left in her body to even get up, she wished she would fall asleep but that mercy was not coming to her. She heard small footsteps coming up the stairs and a gentle knock on the door.

“Mommy?” Anna’s voice was quiet; John had probably told her that mommy was sleeping.

“Yes.”

“Are you sleeping?”

“No sweetheart, you can come in.”

The door opened and Anna’s blonde hair peeked in. She walked up to the bed and looked at her.

“Are you sick?”

“No, I’m just resting a little.”

Anna climbed into bed and sat down in front of her, and then she lay down on her side and reached out her hand and put it on Kristin’s forehead. Kristin had to close her eyes to not cry.

“You don’t feel like you have a fever,” Anna whispered, “does your throat hurt?”

Kristin shook her head.

“I will lay here with you for a while and maybe you can fall asleep then.”

The little girl turned her back to Kristin and moved close to her body. Kristin put her nose on the warm child’s neck and breathed in. They laid like that until Jack came running up the stairs.

“What are you doing?” He climbed into the bed and lay down on the other side of Kristin. “I want to cuddle too.”

She put her arm around his body and pulled him close.

“My beautiful little boy,” she whispered into his ear.

The two warm bodies next to her were balsam for her soul.

 

At one o’clock John took Jack to the birthday party and Anna and Kristin stayed home. They went out in the backyard and watered the seeds; small seedlings had started to show in the row marked radishes. She pushed Anna on the swing, went to the front and drew hopscotch, said hello to a few neighbors.

Wanted this day to end sooner than later, preferably now, but the hours moved slower and slower. Walked around in a blank state, looked at everything around her but it all felt distant; a movie she didn’t participate in. Every surface was shinier, blanker than usual, not real.

At eight, she sat in front of the TV, tried hard to understand what was happening on the screen but she couldn’t even make out the voices.

“Why don’t you go to bed?” John asked.

“What?” she said confused, “oh, yeah I probably should.”

The bedroom was filled with the last rays of the sun, she stood hesitating on the floor, not sure what to do. Then she remembered that she was supposed to go to bed, started to get undressed  but then she stopped. Jonas’ old stuffed tiger sat on her dresser, when she had moved down here he had fished it out from somewhere and given it to her. She picked it up, pressed her face against the worn fabric. It had worked for him for many years and at the moment she needed any kind of comfort she could get. Somewhere deep inside of it she thought she could smell something familiar.

She put on her pajamas and socks; suddenly she was cold and tired. Laid under the blanket and pressed the tiger against her chest. But the loneliness was not situated there; it sat as a chilly tension down her spine. She pulled the blanket higher and blessed the drug induced sleep she knew soon would come.

 

32.

“Mio. I have been searching for you for nine long years. Missing my son. I've been lying awake at night, crying "Mio... My Mio..." So you see, I do know what your true name is.”

Astrid Lindgren, Mio, my son

Kristin’s dress was snug around her shoulders, she was sweating on her back and her tight French braid was giving her a headache. The small white coffin was covered in flowers and the church was packed with people.

 Old ladies with grey hair and hats accompanied by old men in suits who smelled of soap and tobacco. Mothers who looked at them with eyes Kristin wanted to claw out of their faces; sympathetic, judging eyes. Fathers who all knew her dad and shook his hand and patted his back. The lady from the bakery, Eddie from the ice cream store, the snack bar owner from down by the lake. Even he had a suit on over his big belly. The teachers from school and Mrs. Henke who cried hard and snuffling into a handkerchief. And kids from school who kept their eyes on the floor and looked uncomfortable in their dress clothes.

Grandpa stood next to the coffin and talked about how Emma was with Jesus now and for the first time in Kristin’s life did she hate her grandpa. Emma was dead! Laying in that coffin dressed in a blue dress with daisies on it.

She looked to the side; her mother’s face was grey and her father had been crying so much he looked drained. Jonas sat too close to her with that dazed look on his face.  She would much rather not be here.

I could turn invisible and leave. No, then they would notice, and get worried. I can’t do that! I could get a stomachache and have to go outside. No, they would never let me go by myself.  Her thoughts were interrupted by a strange noise; it sounded like someone was running down the aisle.

She turned her head. Her eyes flew open; a white rabbit dressed in a checkered, cornflower blue jacket was nervously moving down the aisle, muttering to himself. He was not much more than three feet tall and his eyes were big and brown. Kristin looked around; no one seemed to have noticed him except for her. She blinked hard a few times, but he was still there, coming closer and closer until he was standing next to her pew.

“Ah, yes,” he said and looked up at her, his whiskers were quivering, “oh dear, I think I am right on time.”

“For what?” she whispered back.

“For you, my dear.”

“Me?”

“Yes, you are the only one who knows where the hole is.”

“I do?”

The rabbit nodded and looked at his pocket watch.

“Oh dear, we shall not be late, it is time to go.”

He put out his paw and she took it. The paw was cool in her sweaty hand and together they walked up the aisle, passed the coffin and grandpa. And went down the hole; it had never been in grandpa’s garden, it had always been here. And they were not late, they were right on time.

She didn’t come back until everybody was gathered in one of the church halls. The windows were open, the late summer breeze lifted the curtains and people seemed to relax again, some even laughed.  The men had started to take of their suit jackets and ties and some of the women had taken off their hats. That was when she stepped out of the rabbit hole.

All the women had cooked something; potato salad, roast beef, seven layer salad, gravlax, meatballs, sausages, sauerkraut, Hot dish and of course Mrs. Johnson had made pie. One apple and one meat pie. The lady from the bakery had brought rolls, and lefse and kransekake.

Kristin and Jonas circled the food impatiently waiting for someone to say the magic word that would release all the grown-ups and make them eat. Because as a child you have to wait for the magic word.

The women complimented each other for this dish and that dish and oh, how gorgeous the kransekake was with small frosting flowers.  This could have been any other social gathering in town if it wasn’t for her parents who sat together in a corner looking heartbroken and Mrs. Henke who still sobbed. Grandpa looked cold and stern, different from how Kristin had ever seen him.

When the food was served, Kristin and Jonas filled their plates and went over to one of the tables. Grandpa dragged their mother to the table and forced her to sit down; then he went over to the food and filled up a plate for her. He put it down with a clang.

“Eat something Linda!”

Her mother shook her head.

“If you don’t eat I will feed you.”

Her mother lifted her head and looked at grandpa. They stared at each other with narrow eyes.

“Yes, I will feed you in front of all these people if you don’t eat. These women have cooked for you because they know you are heartbroken. You can show your gratitude by eating.”

Her mother bent her head down, picked up her fork and speared a piece of gravlax; she put it in her mouth and chewed. Grandpa nodded and caressed her cheek but he didn’t leave. He stood next to the table until the plate was empty.

When Kristin and Jonas had their fill they snuck outside. The other kids were all standing around, leaning on trees, not sure what to do in their nice clothes. And not sure what you were allowed to do a day like this.

Kristin saw Karen standing with some other girls; they hadn’t talked to each other since, well not since it all happened. Kristin moved cautiously across the lawn, tried to get Karen’s attention. When she was a few feet away she stopped.

“Hi,” she said and all the girls turned and looked at her.

“Hi,” they said one by one.

Karen was quiet looking at Kristin, and then she walked over to Kristin and took her hand. She dragged her away from the other girls, behind the church where no one could see them. Then she put her arms around Kristin and hugged her hard. Kristin got stiff at first, shocked over the sudden embrace. Karen smelled of sweetbread and vanilla, like she always did.

“I’m so sorry for you,” Karen said.

Kristin had no idea what to say, but she put her arms around Karen and hugged her back.

“Are you going to kiss her next?” someone said and the girls flew apart.

It was Kevin again, Kevin in 9^th grade.

Kristin looked at him, just stared. Then she walked up to him and lifted her face so she could meet his eyes, the burning anger filled her up.

“Do you want to end up where your bike is?” she whispered.

Kevin’s face got filled with confusion and then anger.

“You took my bike!” He grabbed hold of her left arm and squeezed really hard.

The pain fueled her anger and it was liberating, much better than soggy grief. She started to swing her right arm and got in a punch to his face.

“Kevin!”

“Come on!”

 “Leave her alone!”

“Her sister just died!”

The other kids screamed at them as Kevin tried to get hold of Kristin’s right arm. She tried to wiggle out of his hard grip, but he was much stronger than her. Only one thing to do, she sunk her teeth into his arm. What happened after that was a blur, but all of the sudden Kevin was lying on the ground and her father was standing over him with his hands in hard fists.

“I will kill you!” her father roared.

Kevin’s eyes were wide open and he tried to crawl away from her father.

“Jimmy! Don’t!” her mother screamed and came out of nowhere. She stood in front of him and put her hands on his face. “Don’t!” she said again.

Her father’s shoulders slowly dropped and his fists became hands again. He turned around and looked at Kristin as she stood completely still and stared at him. He went down on his knees and grabbed her and held her tight.

“Are you ok, little girl?”

“Yes,” she said and put her arms around his neck, “it only hurt a little.”

“You are my little wolf, tough and strong.”

“Yes, daddy.”