Anders Roslund - The Beast

She drove for quite a long time, twice round the house, and three times round the play-shed, and up and down the long path, and then she tried it inside the sandpit but the silly car wouldn’t do it, so she kicked it like she’d wanted to kick David and said nasty things to it. But it didn’t move. And then a dad came, the one who’d been waiting on the bench all day. Her daddy had nodded to him, like saying hello. The dad seemed nice. He asked if it was OK to lift the car, and she said yes please and then he did. She said thank you and he smiled, but then he looked sad and said did she want to look, there was a tiny dead baby rabbit next to the seat and it was such a shame.

Officer in charge of the interrogation Sven Sundkvist (SS):

Hello there.

David Rundgren (DR): Hello,

SS: My name is Sven. What’s yours? DR: I… (inaudible)

SS: Did you say David?

DR: Yes.

SS: That’s a nice name. I’ve got a son who’s almost your age. Two years older. His name is Jonas.

DR: I know someone called that too.

SS: Do you like him?

DR: He’s one of my friends,

SS: Do you have lots of friends?

DR: Yes. Quite a lot.

SS: That’s very good. Brilliant. Is one of your friends called Marie?

DR: Yes.

SS: Did you know that I wanted to talk to you about Marie especially?

DD: Yes I did. We’re to talk about Marie.

SS: Brilliant. Do you know what I want to do first? I’d like you to tell me how school went today.

DD: OK.

SS: Nothing unusual happened?

DD: What?

SS: Was everything like it always is?

DD: Yes. Like always.

SS: Everybody played with different things?

DD: Yes. Mostly we all played Indians,

SS: Everybody played Indians?

DD: Yes. Everybody. I had blue lines,

SS: Did you? Blue lines… and everybody played, all the time?

DD: Well, almost. Almost all the time.

SS: Marie too? Did she play all the time?

DD: Yes, at first. But not later on.

SS: Not later on? Please tell me why she didn’t play any more.

DD: She didn’t like (inaudible) lines. I did. Then she went outside. She was cross because she wanted rings. Nobody else wanted rings ’cause everybody liked lines better. Lines like my (inaudible). And then I said to her that you must have lines too and she said no, I want rings, but nobody wanted to paint rings. And then she went outside. Nobody else wanted to go outside. It was too hot. We were allowed to stay in and we did. And we played Indians,

SS: Did you see when Marie went outside?

DD: No.

SS: Not at all?

DD: She just went. She was cross, I think,

SS: Did you see Marie later?

DD: Yes. Through the window.

SS: What did you see through the window?

DD: Marie and the pedal-car. She’s almost never had it. And she got stuck.

SS: How do you mean, stuck?

DD: Stuck in the sandpit.

SS: She was in the pedal-car and it was stuck in the sandpit.

So what did Marie do next?

DD: She kicked it. The car.

SS: She kicked the car. Did she do anything else?

DD: And she said something,

SS: What did she say?

DD: I didn’t hear.

SS: And what happened afterwards, after she had kicked the car and said something?

DD: The man came,

SS: What man?

DD: The man who came.

SS: Where were you?

DD: Inside. Looking out through the window.

SS: Was it far… were they far away?

DD: Ten.

SS: Ten what?

DD: Ten metres.

SS: Marie and the man were ten metres away?

DD: (inaudible)

SS: Do you know how far away ten metres is?

DD: It’s quite far.

SS: But you’re not quite sure exactly how far?

DD: No.

SS: Tell you what, David. Come over here to this window.

Look at the car over there. OK?

DD: OK.

SS: Is that car as far away as Marie and the man?

DD: Yes.

SS: Really truly?

DD: Yes, that’s how far it was.

SS: And when the man had come along, what happened?

DD: He helped Marie lift the pedal-car. He was quite strong.

SS: Did anybody else see the man lifting the car?

DD: No. It was only me there. In the hall.

SS: No teacher?

DD: No. Only me.

SS: What did the man do afterwards?

DD: He said things to Marie.

SS: What did Marie do?

DD: She said things to him. They talked.

SS: What clothes did Marie have on?

DD: The same ones.

SS: The same as when?

DD: The same that she had on when she came to school.

SS: Can you remember what Marie had on? Colours and so on?

DD: She had a green T-shirt. Humpie has got one just like that.

SS: And?

DD: Her red shoes. Her best. With metal things,

SS: Metal things?

DD: For closing them. So they stay on.

SS: Trousers? Skirt?

DD: I can’t remember,

SS: Maybe a skirt?

DD: Maybe. Not proper trousers, it was too hot.

SS: What about the man? What was he like?

DD: Big. And strong, he could lift the pedal-car out of the sandpit.

SS: Can you remember what he was wearing?

DD: Trousers. And a top. I think. And a baseball cap.

SS: What kind?

DD: The kind you have on your head.

SS: Can you remember anything about the cap?

DD: Yes. It was like the ones they sell in Statoil garages.

SS: What did Marie and the man do next?

DD: They walked away.

SS: Where did they go?

DD: To the gate. And the man fixed the thing.

SS: What did he fix?

DD: The lock-thing on the gate.

SS: The hook on top that you’ve got to lift straight up to open the gate?

DD: Yes. He did that,

SS: Then what did they do? DD: They went outside in the street. SS: Do you remember which way they walked?

DD: Just out. I couldn’t see.

SS: Why did they leave?

DD: Don’t know. We’re not allowed. To go out, I mean. It’s not allowed.

SS: How did they look? What mood were they in?

DD: Not angry.

SS: No? Not angry, but instead…?

DD: They were pleased, a bit.

SS: Did they look pleased when they left?

DD: Not angry, anyway.

SS: How long could you keep watching them?

DD: Not long. Not after the gate,

SS: So they disappeared?

DD: Yes.

SS: Is there anything else you want to tell me?

DD: (inaudible)

SS: David?

DD: (silence)

SS: Never mind. You’ve been very, very helpful, David. You’re very good at remembering things. Would it be all right if I left you here for just a little while? I’d like to speak to some other men.

DD: I’m all right.

SS: Afterwards I’ll go and get your mummy and daddy. They’re waiting for you downstairs.

Fredrik caught the two o’clock ferry. The ferries, in their moss-green and sun-yellow livery, set out every hour on the hour. Crossing the strait between Okö and Arnö took only four or five minutes, but marked the divide between mainland and island. For him, it symbolised a shift from time that raced to time that lingered. He had bought an old cottage on the island a month or so before Marie was born, when writing at home had looked like becoming impossible. The cottage had been half ruined, and surrounded by a jungle, but it was only fifteen minutes away by car. During the first couple of summers Agnes had helped him recreate a house and a garden from this ruin in the wilderness. Eventually a novel trilogy had emerged from it, books that had sold rather well and were now being translated into German, which really pleased his publishers, only too aware that the market for foreign publication rights was tough.

Fredrik knew he wouldn’t be able to write anything today, but had made up his mind to pretend to himself he might. He went through the routine, settled down in front of the little square screen with his pile of untidy notes at hand. Quarter of an hour passed, half an hour, three quarters of an hour. He turned on the television in the room next door, it was companionable to have it mumbling away at low volume. It joined the commercial radio station that was playing worn pop tunes, too familiar to attract any attention.