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Authors: Mats Sara B.,Strandberg Elfgren

The Circle (11 page)

BOOK: The Circle
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She nods and they kiss again.

‘Hurry up,’ she whispers, then kicks away, doing a few strokes on her back.

Wille teases her for always wanting sex, but he loves her for it, she knows. He thinks it’s all his doing, that he’s so incredible in bed she just can’t have enough of him. But Vanessa has always loved sex. Even the first time, when everyone said it was supposed to hurt. Having sex for her is like being drunk. It makes her forget everything she doesn’t want to think about. It makes her feel like the centre of the universe.

Vanessa shivers as she steps out of the water. Her body feels heavy on land. She hasn’t sobered up nearly as much as she’d thought. She staggers as she bends to pick up her underwear and pulls it on.

When she looks up she sees the moon again. It’s blood red. She’s never seen anything like it.

Wille is lying on the blanket, waiting for her, as she enters the little cluster of trees. Their spot.

‘Have you seen the moon?’ she asks.

Wille doesn’t answer, just pats the blanket next to him. She lies down and he immediately rolls on top of her. Suddenly she feels the earth move beneath her. ‘I feel sick,’ she says and shoves him away.

A moment’s dizziness, and then she feels something take control of her body. She sits up involuntarily.

‘What are you doing?’ Wille asks, far away.

Vanessa feels dizzy again. Her perspective is askew. It’s like looking through the wrong end of a telescope. She feels her body rise and yanks at the blanket so hard that Wille rolls off it. Then she wraps it around herself and starts to walk. Her feet find their way, in spite of the darkness and the ground, which is littered with rocks and holes. Her legs are steady.

Wille grabs her shoulder and spins her around. He looks worried and she wants to calm him, but she can’t speak. She pulls free of him and walks out into the night. Somewhere nearby a raven caws.

‘Well fucking forget it then!’ Wille shouts after her.

I must be really hammered, Vanessa thinks.

 

Anna-Karin is sitting in her room in front of the computer. She’s staring at the screen, at the chats taking place.

In primary school, she had created a profile on one of the most popular sites. She still gets angry when she thinks about it, angry that she could have been so stupid as to
imagine
she could make friends. Of course they’d found her. Erik Forslund and Ida had tricked her into revealing her password. She’ll never forget the pictures they put up. The things they wrote.

The profile is still there. Naturally they had changed the password so that she couldn’t delete the account. Sometimes she goes in and looks at it, just to remind herself that she can never trust anyone. It’s a scab she can’t stop picking at.

Often she reads other people’s blogs where they write about their lives. People who think that what they’ve just eaten for dinner or what they’re wearing is so important that they have to share it with the world.

When somebody complains too much about their non-problems, she gets so annoyed that she has to write something nasty. Then she lies awake for hours, terrified that the blogger will manage to track her down.

Now she’s checking a blog by Evelina, Vanessa Dahl’s friend. In her latest entry she’s written how sad it is that a guy in her year just committed suicide. In the entry below it she’s posted a picture of herself with Jari Mäkinen. Their faces are pressed together so tightly it must have hurt. It looks as if she’s holding on to his back. Anna-Karin thinks she looks like one of those hot music video girls.

Me and my boy Jari … 2 hot 4 school!!!:P

Anna-Karin’s cheeks feel hot in the glare from the screen. It’s so fucking ridiculous the way Evelina clings to the senior boys. But Anna-Karin would like nothing better than to be Evelina in that picture.

Alone in her room, she studies every pixel in Jari’s face.
She’s
looked at him often over the years. Looked, peeked, even stared, when she’s been sure no one could see her. Jari’s father helps her mother and Grandpa on the farm sometimes, and when Jari was younger he used to come too. Each time Anna-Karin would hide in her room until he’d gone home.

She is about to write something nasty to Evelina in the comment box when her legs tingle, as if they’ve fallen asleep.

Then she stands up so forcefully that her chair skitters across the room. That wasn’t me, she thinks, in horror. That wasn’t me.

 

When Minoo wakes up she’s standing in the garden in her pyjamas. She’s wearing her slippers. The last thing she remembers is lying on her bed, studying. She must have fallen asleep.

Panic bubbles inside her as her feet begin to move with a will of their own. She walks through the garden and out on to the street.

Is this a dream? No. She’s sure it isn’t. She tries to stop, turn around, run the other way, but her body moves forward inexorably.

The streets are empty, the night silent. All she can hear is the plastic soles of her slippers scraping along the tarmac and the sound of her breathing. She tries to scream, but can only produce a whimper.

It feels bizarre to try to think logically in a situation that is so completely absurd, but that’s all Minoo can do to quell
her
panic. She tries to remember if she’s read about anything like this, but her thoughts keep heading off in directions that terrify her even more. Mental illness. Possession.

In the end she tries to stop thinking altogether.

Minoo reaches the national road and sees a lorry hurtling towards her from the left. Her body doesn’t slow down but steps on to the tarmac. The lorry blasts its horn. Minoo screams inside herself. The ground vibrates beneath her feet as they continue marching resolutely forwards. She steels herself for the moment of impact, when her body will be crushed and smeared across the road.

But it never comes.

She can’t work out whether it’s the metal monster or just its backdraught that buffets her. The vehicle lets out a prolonged blast of its horn without slowing, but Minoo is safely on the other side of the road.

Her feet start climbing the steep embankment that runs alongside the national road. She slips on the damp grass and loses a slipper. The ground feels cold against the sole of her foot as she continues her ascent. The moon is glowing in the black sky. It is an unnatural red.

That can’t be right, she thinks.

When she reaches the top, she starts walking along the train tracks. After a while she loses her other slipper.

The forest closes in around the railway, the harsh moonlight illuminating the lines. Minoo thinks it’s strange that the moon is red, but its light seems normal.

She listens nervously for an approaching train.

The line is seldom used at night, but sometimes long freight trains come through that she can hear from her house.

She catches sight of a little stream and alongside it the old dirt track. It’s almost never used now because the national road was built through Engelsfors. Only a few stray mushroom pickers or horse riders ever make their way out here.

Suddenly Minoo changes direction. She slides down the embankment and on to the dirt track. Her legs are stiff, but they continue moving forwards.

The gravel hurts her feet. She hears wings beating above her. Ahead she sees Kärrgruvan, the long-since-closed fairground. The wire fence that surrounds it is broken in several places. The tall bushes, once carefully trimmed into all sorts of imaginative shapes, have been allowed to grow wild.

Minoo walks through the arched gateway with
KÅRRGRUVAN
mounted above it, and past the old ticket office, which has been boarded up with rotting planks. She sees the round dance pavilion with the pointed roof that makes it look like a circus tent. Further away there is a dilapidated red stall with HOT DOGS in white lettering across the top of the closed service window.

Somehow this place seems even more desolate and threatening when you know that it was once full of life, laughter and eager anticipation.

But it’s not completely deserted, Minoo now notices.

Someone is standing in the shadows by the dance pavilion.

Minoo’s feet stop. The figure breaks away from the shadows and takes on solid form. Minoo immediately recognises him.

It’s the school caretaker.

10

 

‘MY NAME IS
Nicolaus,’ the caretaker says solemnly.

He’s wearing an old-fashioned black suit, a white shirt, a red and blue striped tie and freshly polished shoes. As if he’s dressed up the occasion.

‘Welcome, O Chosen One,’ he continues, ‘you who have come to this sacred place on the night of the blood-red moon!’

He raises his hands towards the sky. When she instinctively takes a step back, Minoo discovers she has regained control of her body. It becomes clear that the man is completely out of his mind when he virtually howls, ‘Behold! The prophecy has been fulfilled!’

‘Excuse me?’

He drones on, taking no notice of her question. ‘You and I have awoken from our slumber. And now our eyes have been opened! Anon shall we witness the moment when our destiny shall be fulfilled!’

He looks at Minoo expectantly.

‘You must have mistaken me for someone else,’ she says weakly.

His intense gaze pins her to the ground.

‘Tell me, did you come here of your own free will, or were you brought here by a mysterious force, something beyond the realm of human understanding?’

Minoo doesn’t know what to say. How could he know that?

Nicolaus nods in satisfaction.

‘Who are you?’ she asks.

‘Nicolaus Elingius is my name. I am your guide. You are the Chosen One.’

‘Chosen for what?’ Minoo asks.

‘I don’t know yet,’ says Nicolaus impatiently.

‘So you don’t know any more than I do about what’s going on?’

He looks around furtively. ‘No. I mean … We have to be patient. I’m trying to grasp my memories, but that’s like trying to catch a sunbeam. Like the newborn lamb that opens its eyes to the light and is blinded, we shall—’

‘I’m going home now,’ says Minoo.

Nicolaus shushes her. His eyes are fixed on a point behind her. A cold wind finds its way underneath her pyjama top. ‘Someone is lurking in the shadows,’ he whispers.

Minoo thinks of the figure in the light of the streetlamp and shudders.

Now she hears the gravel crunching under someone’s feet at the entrance to the fairground. She turns slowly.

At first Minoo doesn’t recognise her because Vanessa’s hair is wet and pasted against her skull. Her makeup, always so perfectly applied around her big brown eyes, has run down her cheeks. She is wrapped in a grey woollen blanket
and
is irritatedly plucking away some leaves that are caught in her hair. Minoo glimpses a pair of leopard-print pants and a matching bra under the grey wool.

‘I don’t understand …’ Nicolaus mumbles, staring at Vanessa in horror.

‘What’s going on and who the hell are you?’ Vanessa asks.

It’s obvious she doesn’t want to show that she’s scared to death.

‘I’m Nicolaus. I’m supposed to … guide the Chosen One,’ he says, with what little authority he can muster.

Vanessa is rocking back and forth to keep her balance. She must be drunk. Why else would she be running around half naked in the forest?

‘Wait a minute,’ says Vanessa. ‘You’re the creepy school caretaker.’

Nicolaus grimaces stiffly.

Vanessa looks at Minoo as if she’s only just realised she’s there. ‘What the hell are you two doing out here?’

Minoo feels silly for being offended that Vanessa has lumped her with Nicolaus. Can’t she tell that she and Minoo are in the same situation?

Vanessa’s blanket slides down to reveal her bra.

‘Dear child, cover yourself!’ Nicolaus is aghast.


You
stop staring, pervert!’ Vanessa pulls up her blanket.

He backs away, clearly shocked. ‘No one holds the fairer sex in higher esteem than I. Please tell me, did you come of your own free will, or were you brought here by a mysterious force, something beyond the realm of human understanding?’

The same question, but he had asked it differently this time. It’s obvious to Minoo that Nicolaus is hoping she’ll say she came of her own accord.

‘I’m going to kill you if you did this,’ says Vanessa.

Nicolaus is visibly deflated.

‘It happened to me, too,’ Minoo tells Vanessa. ‘It was as if something took control of me.’

At that moment they hear the gravel crunching again.

It’s Anna-Karin. The hem of her flannel nightgown hangs in shreds. Her feet and calves are covered with mud and God knows what else. She’s panting heavily and her cheeks are flushed.

It is indeed Anna-Karin, but there’s something different about her. She looks exhilarated in a way Minoo has never seen before.

Nicolaus’s eyes widen. ‘God help me,’ he mumbles. ‘There are three of them.’

BOOK: The Circle
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ads

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