John Lindqvist - Let The Right One In aka Let Me In

"No banaaaanas?"

"No. Anything else?"

Oskar's jaws were cramping because of his repressed laughter. He teetered away from the kiosk, ran a few steps toward the mailbox, leaned on it, and let it out, convulsing with laughter. Eli came up to him, shaking her head.

"No bananas."

Oskar managed to get out: "He must have… eaten them… all himself."

Then he pulled himself together and forced his mouth shut. He took out his four kronor and went up to the window.

"A bag of mixed candy, please."

The owner gave him a disapproving look but started picking out an assortment of candy with long tongs from the plastic bins, dropping them one by one into a small paper bag. Oskar glanced to the side to make sure Eli heard him, then said "Don't forget the bananas."

The owner stopped short.

"I don't have any bananas."

Oskar pointed to one of the plastic containers.

"I mean the candy foam bananas."

He heard Eli giggle, and put his finger to his lips just like she had done earlier and shushed her. The owner snorted, put a few candy foam bananas in the bag, and handed it to Oskar.

They walked back. Before Oskar had even had any himself he held the bag out to Eli. She shook her head.

"No thanks."

"Don't you eat candy?"

"I can't."

"No candy?"

"Nope."

"What a drag."

"Yes, no. I don't know what it tastes like."

"You haven't even tasted it."

"No."

"Then how do you know that…"

"I just know, that's all."

This happened sometimes. They would be talking about something, Oskar would ask her a question, and it would end with a "that's just the way it is" or "I just know, that's all." No further explanation. That was one of the things that was a little strange about Eli.

It was too bad he couldn't offer her any candy. That was what he had been planning. To be generous, offer her as much as she wanted. And then it turned out she didn't even eat candy. He popped a candy banana in his mouth and snuck a peek at her.

She really didn't look healthy. And those white strands in her hair… In some story Oskar had read, a person's hair went white after he had a big scare. Is that what had happened to Eli?

She glanced to the side, folded her arms around her body, and looked really little. Oskar wanted to put his arm around her but didn't dare.

In the covered entrance leading to the courtyard Eli stopped and looked at her window. It was dark. She stopped with her arms wrapped around her body and stared at the ground.

"Oskar?…"

He did it. Her whole body was asking for it and from somewhere he got the courage to do it. He hugged her. For a terrifying second he thought he had done the wrong thing, her body was stiff, locked. He was about to let go when she relaxed into his embrace. The knot loosened and she coaxed her arms out, put them around his back and leaned trembling against him.

She leaned her head against his shoulder and they stood like that. Her breath against his shoulder. They held each other without saying anything. Oskar closed his eyes and knew: this was big. Light from the outside lamp filtered in through his closed eyelids and created a red membrane in front of his eyes. The biggest.

Eli nuzzled her head in closer toward his neck. The heat from her breath grew more intense. Muscles in her body that had been relaxed grew tense again. Her lips nudged his throat and a shiver ran through his body.

Suddenly she shuddered and broke away, took a step back. Oskar let his arms fall. Eli shook her head as if to free herself from a nightmare, turned, and started walking to her door. Oskar stayed put. When she opened the front door he called out to her.

"Eli?" She turned. "Where's your dad?"

"He was going to… bring me food."

She doesn't get enough to eat. That's what it is.

"You can have dinner with us if you like."

Eli let go of the door and walked back over to him. Oskar quickly started to plan things out. He did not want his mom to meet Eli. Not the other way around either. Maybe he could make a few sandwiches and take them back to her place. Yes, that would be best.

Eli stopped in front of him, looking at him earnestly.

"Oskar, do you like me?"

"Yes. A lot."

"If I turned out not to be a girl… would you still like me?"

"What do you mean?"

"Just that. Would you still like me even if I wasn't a girl?"

"Yes… I guess so."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. Why do you ask?"

Someone was struggling with a stuck window, then it opened. Over the top of Eli's head Oskar could see his mom poke her head out of his bedroom window.

"Ooooskar!"

Eli quickly drew in toward the wall. Oskar balled his hands into fists and ran up the hill, stopping underneath his window. Like a little kid.

"What is it?"

"Oh! Are you down there? I thought-"

"What is it?"

"It's about to start."

"I know."

His mother was about to add something, but shut her mouth and just looked at him standing there under the window with his hands still held in tight fists, his body tense.

"What are you doing?"

"I'll be right there."

"It's just…"

His eyes were starting to get watery from rage and he hissed "Go back in! Close the window. Go back!"

His mother stared at him for another second, then something changed in her face and she slammed the window shut, walked away. Oskar would have wanted… not to shout for her to come back… but to send her a thought. To explain quietly and calmly how it was. That she wasn't allowed to do that, because he…

He ran back down the hill.

"Eli?"

She wasn't there. She couldn't have gone inside because he would have noticed her. She must have left to take the subway to that aunt she had in the city where she went after school. That seemed likely.

Oskar went and stood in the dark corner where she had ducked in when his mom opened the window. Turned with his face toward the wall. Stood there for a while. Then he went inside.

Hakan dragged the boy inside the changing room and locked the door behind him. The boy had hardly made a noise. The only thing that could alert someone's attention now was the hissing noise from the gas bottle. He would have to work quickly.

It would have been so much easier to be able to attack directly with a knife. But no. The blood had to come from a living body. Another aspect that he had had explained to him. Blood from the dead was worthless, harmful even.

Well, the boy was alive. His chest rose and sank as he inhaled the stupifying gas.

He tightened the rope around the boy's legs, right above his knees, slung both ends above the hook, and started to pull. The boy's legs were lifted from the ground.

A door opened, voices rang out.

He held the rope in place with one hand and turned off the gas with the other, removing the mask from the boy's face. The anesthetic would hold for a few minutes. He would have to keep working, as silently as he could, regardless of the fact that there were people in the room.

There were several men out there. Two, three, four? They were talking about Sweden and Denmark. Some tournament. Handball. While they talked Hakan raised the boy's body. The hook squeaked, the weight fell differently than when he had tested it. The men stopped talking. Had they heard anything? He froze, hardly breathing. Held the body still, suspended with the head barely off the ground.

No, just a lull in the conversation. They continued.

Keep talking, keep talking.

"Sjogren's penalty was completely…"

"What you don't have in your arms you'd better have in your head."

"He's pretty good at getting them in, you have to give him that."

"That spin. Don't know how he does it."