Richard House - The Kills

The evening, being so exceptionally strange, has left Rike with the sense that she’s permeable. She sits in the chair, legs tucked under her, the glass of milk in her hand, and senses the night air and the distance between herself and her sister, the glass, the small square garden outside, and the wall, aware that beyond this is a void. The apartment could be floating, it could be free. They could be in this box and be anywhere in the world, even above it.

7.2

At three in the morning Rike wakes again. There’s little point in attempting to sleep. She slips into the lounge and checks her email. Included is a message from Mannfunktionprojekt.

She retrieves a pass code for the final piece in an email titled ‘with love’. The date — the beginning of the month — means that this was not actually the final piece, but the second. When she enters the site she’s prompted to fill in her name, her age, her email address, and generate a password. A small warning comes up: This Contains Adult Material.

Enter / Return to Site. Rike clicks Enter.

Members / Guests. She clicks Members and is prompted to enter her password.

The entire screen becomes black.

‘With Someone You Love’ comes up as a title, and then underneath a second title: ‘With Someone You Do Not Love’. Both are options which can be clicked.

* * *

Isa comes out of the bedroom an hour later.

‘He can’t sleep either,’ she says. ‘So I can’t sleep. What are you watching?’ Isa leans over the couch as Rike automatically covers the screen, expecting Isa to become angry.

‘It’s art.’

‘Art?’ Isa peels back her sister’s hand. ‘You’re watching porn? Of all nights? Now I have to worry about you?’ She comes around the couch and sits beside her sister.

‘It’s art.’

‘So move your hand away.’

‘I’m not Mattaus.’

‘Let’s not go there.’

‘It’s that group. You liked the last one. It’s another video, a series of videos.’

Isa picks the computer from Rike’s lap. She clicks to restart the movie. After a moment she moves the laptop so they can both see the screen. ‘You dirty girl,’ then clicking through the options asks Rike which one she wants to watch: with love, or without?

* * *

Isa becomes serious once they have watched both films.

‘It’s interesting. I mean I don’t know if it’s art, but it’s interesting. You think at some level it’s all the same. Fucking, I mean. It’s just fucking after all.’

Rike rolls her eyes. That’s something Mattaus would say.

‘Not exactly what you’d call hot though, is it?’

‘I don’t think it’s supposed to be.’

‘You know if Henning was ever with anyone else, I think the only way I could make it through would be to think that whoever he was with, it wouldn’t be the same, it would be something different. That when he’s with me it’s more, I don’t know, intended. I don’t know. Men say it doesn’t mean anything, you know, when they mess up. That’s the standard line.’

‘It’s not the same.’

Isa gives a short laugh. ‘You know. It kind of is. I mean that’s where it gets to. Once or twice maybe it’s something special, but you have these habits, you know. You spend all of your time thinking about it when it doesn’t happen, and then, when it does, it’s a function. Like having a good shit, I mean how many different ways can you have a good shit? I’m being serious.’

The sisters sit in silence.

‘You think we’re the only animal that cares about this?’ Isa points to the yard. ‘You think those cats care? You think other animals watch each other go at it and it does something for them?’

‘Like cat-porn.’

Isa turns to Rike and they both laugh, and try to keep quiet to not disturb Henning, but laughing hard.

‘So when did you last do it?’

‘You’re asking me?’

‘Of course I’m asking.’

Rike gives a short involuntary eyes-closed shrug.

‘Really? That long?’

‘What? No. It’s not been that long.’

‘So this year. We’re talking this year? You’ve had sex this year? Who with?’

‘I’m not telling you. We’re not discussing this.’

‘I bet you haven’t. You like those farm boys, that’s your problem.’

‘I don’t like farm boys. You like farm boys.’

‘I do. Very much. But so do you. You never go for them though. You always end up with the complicated ones. The spoiled ones. The ones who are too shy, who need written permission, notes from their mothers. That’s your whole problem, you don’t go for what you want.’

Rike considers returning to bed. ‘This isn’t fair. You don’t know what it’s like. You’re married now. It’s all different.’

‘It’s true though. Look at them. There was that French boy.’

‘Don’t.’

‘And he really liked you. I still don’t understand what your problem was. See. I know you like him. I’m talking about Tomas.’

‘I don’t like him.’

‘Yes. You do. I can tell.’

‘I don’t. I’m his teacher.’

‘You keep saying that like it’s a problem. You’re adults. And men always like teachers. Teachers and librarians. Ask Henning.’

‘I don’t like him. I don’t know him. He doesn’t have the first idea about me.’

‘I bet he sits close. I bet he leans forward and asks you questions. I bet he whispers so you have to get close. He’s asked you to his house. See. It’s not like you’re in a classroom. You’re already in the vicinity.’

Rike didn’t understand. ‘Of what?’

‘Of his bedroom. God, you really are hopeless.’ Isa shakes her head with genuine frustration. ‘I’m joking. I’m having fun. God forbid you’d let yourself have any fun. Ever.’

‘I know how to have fun.’

Isa stops talking for a moment, then screws up her mouth. ‘You know, with Mattaus, I can’t believe he’s been here longer than we have. All this time. I know what he’s like. But it’s just hurtful that he does this. He has no idea. I mean we love him. But he does this to us. All the fucking time.’

Hearing a noise in the hallway both Rike and Isa turn to see Henning fully dressed.

‘What’s the matter?’ Isa asks, her voice still quiet. ‘Did we disturb you?’

‘I have to go. I’ve had a call. The man in the hospital. There are problems with security.’

Isa struggles to her feet. When she kisses him goodbye she cradles his face in her hands and whispers, Poor baby, we really are too much for you. An apology, Rike thinks, not unjustified, for her family.

* * *

The clock counts down to zero, white numbers on a black field. Rike sits up in bed with the laptop. Once the numbers stop a title fuzzes into view: first, Mannfunktionprojekt, then after, MFP — 02:06. The image, two fields of blue, a landscape, one a flat bright blue, the other slightly mottled, a darker blue. The resolution isn’t so clear and the image speckles, fizzes, falls into digitized squares, especially in the lower, darker segment. And what is this? Nothing, a kind of landscape she supposes, and then slowly, steadily, it becomes clearer and draws into focus. She’s looking at the sea and the sky, and as the image becomes focused she can tell that this is a shoreline. Rike watches, intrigued, expectant, and then finally impatient, because it seems that nothing will happen. She realizes also that she’s holding her breath, and just at the moment she lets it out something begins to rise from the sea.