Caroline Åberg - Stockholm Noir

A short scream resounded within her eardrums. It took a few seconds before she realized it came from herself.

“What am I doing?” she said out loud. She straightened up and heard her spine creak and pop.

She’d just turned off the motor when she heard footsteps above her on the main level. Her heart began to pound. She spied the axe in the corner. Nobody had used it after Hasse had passed away. She got out of the car, picked it up, and snuck back through the laundry room.

Yes, someone was upstairs, all right. She saw a pair of muddy shoes. She could taste iron in her mouth.

“Hello? Anyone up there?” she managed to croak.

“Mama!”

Relief spread through her like a warm wave. “Anneli? Is that you?”

Her daughter’s face was red and glowing. “What are you doing, Mama? Cutting wood?”

“No, well...”

“Why didn’t you pick up the phone? I’ve been calling over and over. I started to worry. You have to pick up the phone, Mama! You have to pick up when people call you!”

“I dropped it on the floor and it broke in half,” she said, suddenly remembering what had happened.

Anneli raised her shoulders. She was tense and stressed, standing in the middle of the hallway floor. “How could it break in half?”

“Go see for yourself.” She gestured toward the bedroom, but Anneli shook her head.

“I believe you. But now how am I supposed to reach you?”

“I’ll just have to buy a new phone.”

Anneli shook back her dry, henna-dyed hair. “No, I’ll take care of it. But I don’t have time this week.”

Maj stepped closer to her daughter to give her a hug. Just to show she loved her. They were still mother and daughter. They would always be mother and daughter. Until the end of time. But something in Anneli’s rigid stance made her draw back.

“I’ve got to get going.” Anneli glanced at the clock in the kitchen. “Is that the right time?”

Maj nodded.

“Mama, have you thought about it some more? You know...”

Maj’s stomach clenched. “About what?”

“Really, Mama, it would be so much easier for me if I knew you were all right. If I knew there was someone who could look in on you, someone who made you meals, and all the rest of it. You have to try to understand my side, Mama. I can’t just pick up and leave work when you don’t answer the phone. Things are difficult right now. There might be more layoffs.”

“Sweetie, you don’t have to worry about me, I’m doing just fine—”

“But for how long, Mama? How long? You have to think about the future too.”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”

Anneli grimaced. She looked tired and worn. Her jacket had frayed along the bottom edge.

“Wait a moment,” Maj said. She went into her bedroom and opened her linen cabinet. She moved a heap of pillows aside and took out a few hundred kronor from their hiding place. “Here. Take this and buy something nice for yourself. Spoil yourself a little.”

Anneli turned her face away and mumbled something Maj couldn’t hear.

Maj stuffed the bills into Anneli’s jacket pocket. “Go on, so your boss doesn’t get angry at you. I’ll be fine. I promise.”

Maj stayed inside all day. The cats too. They came out to sniff at their food bowls, but she never saw them eat. She wasn’t hungry either.

Anneli worked at Scania. She was one of the ones able to keep her job after the layoffs a few years back. Still, Anneli had had to take a wage cut. Johnny had also worked at Scania, which was where they’d met. He’d been one of the ones who lost his job.

“You should find someone else,” she’d grumbled to Anneli. “My daughter deserves a better man.”

Maj decided to lie down and rest for a while. A strange despair came over her and tears welled up in her eyes. She hardly ever cried. Not even when Hasse was in the hospital and they moved him to a hospice room, and she’d realized what that meant. Not even then!

Their black-and-white wedding photo hung on the wall in the bedroom. They looked so incomprehensibly young! Shy and expectant. Where had all the years gone?

She pulled her blanket over her and shut her eyes. Perhaps she slept. Yes, she must have fallen asleep in the mix of wool and warmth. When she opened them again, it was dark. At first, she didn’t know where she was. She tried to sit up, but her tailbone was aching and she felt a stab of pain that made her cry out. This happened sometimes. It must be age.

What time was it? As if it had read her thoughts, the grandfather clock began to strike. She counted the strokes — it was nine. Nine at night? Must be. It was dark outside. Had she really slept the day away?

She was thirsty. She walked into the kitchen and switched on the light. She was just about to turn on the faucet when she saw what was on the counter. Her wedding picture. She and Hasse on their wedding day. Fear shook her shoulders. She swallowed hard and stared at the bouquet of roses in the young girl’s hand — the hand that had been her own a very long time ago.

At that moment, she heard a loud bang on the stairs. Terror struck her with great force. She saw the cats had crept beneath the table and pressed against each other. Their eyes were wide and filled with fear.

“You heard it too, didn’t you, kitties?” she whispered.

Kitten got up and his tail hit the floor hard a few times. He crept toward her on his silent paws and wound around her legs.

Mama Cat had also gotten up and moved toward the kitchen door. She raised her back and all her fur stood on end. She hissed. Her brushy tail swished. Her ears flattened.

“What is it?” Maj asked. Her voice was shriller than she realized.

The cat bared its teeth. Maj saw its canines, its fierce predator stare. She could hear the pleading in her own voice. She tried to calm down and speak quietly.

“You’re not in danger, kitties. You don’t have to be frightened. I’m here to watch over you.”

She tried to turn on the light in the hallway and remembered the bulb was out. Where was her flashlight? It was no longer in her junk drawer. She found a paraffin candle and some matches. This is the way people lived in the olden days, she thought. People survived without electricity. They were fine.

Her hand gripped the candle as she started to walk downstairs. The flame flickered and she noticed her own shadow grow. She was in stocking feet. She felt dampness on her foot and lowered her candle to see. It looked like blood.

Something is seriously wrong, she thought. Someone was there. Someone was trying to scare her on purpose. Someone wished her ill. And this person, whoever it was, was here inside her house.

She hurried back upstairs and grabbed her purse. She glanced inside, saw her keys and money. She added a few cans of cat food. She put on her coat and her heavy outdoor shoes.

“Come, kitties, come with me,” she called them. To her relief, they followed her. “We’re going on a car ride.” They had to flee. She decided to leave through the upstairs front door.

Of course, the police, she thought. I have to go to the police. They can come and search the house and find the intruder. They’ll arrest him for sure!

With difficulty, she managed to raise the garage door from outside. Hasse’s Volvo was right there, waiting for her. She opened the back door and the cats jumped in. They settled intertwined on top of Hasse’s cap.

She got into the driver’s seat, pressed down the clutch, shifted into reverse, and hit the gas.

The door slammed. Anneli leapt up from her chair and stumbled into the hallway.

“Johnny?”

He was pale and traces of blood had spread beneath his nose.