Tore Renberg - See You Tomorrow

Malene sits down beside her on the loading ramp. She shoots a glance at Tiril’s hands. ‘Jesus. What have you done?’

I knew it, thinks Tiril, I knew she’d comment on the tattoo.

‘None of your business,’ she says, letting the cigarette hang between her lips as she squints her eyes and stretches her hands out towards her sister.

L O V E

H A T E

‘Lol,’ says Malene. ‘That’s so tweenie. Are you actually going to walk around with that?’ Tiril takes a good drag of the cigarette. Whatever, she couldn’t be bothered replying. ‘Hey,’ she says, ‘why has Dad never actually found himself a girlfriend?’

Malene looks at her. ‘Well, don’t know really … why do you ask?’

‘No reason, am I not allowed to talk now, not allowed to have independent thoughts?’

Malene rolls her eyes. ‘Sure, Sure.’

‘I mean, Mum got herself a man before she left Dad.’

‘You don’t know what you’re on about,’ Malene says sharply.

‘Jesus.’ Tiril plants her forefinger in her sister’s shoulder: ‘Listen, you know that Sandra one?’

‘In my class?’ Malene looks up. ‘The one you clean with?’

‘Mhm.’

‘What about her?’

‘Nah, you probably already know. So…’

‘Give it a break, what do you mean?’

‘Do you know what she’s up to?’

‘No … up to? What do you mean?’

Tiril makes a fish-face and blows a perfect smoke ring. ‘She’s off screwing Daniel William in the woods.’

Malene’s lips slowly part. ‘What!? Daniel William? ’

‘Mhm.’ Tiril nods assuredly. ‘Tears out of here after work. Straight over to the woods. Screws.’

‘Je-sus.’ Malene shakes her head. ‘I knew something was up.’

‘Yeah, just ask Tiril.’

‘ Daniel William. ’ Each syllable of his name escapes her mouth slowly. ‘That’s just … I mean he’s … Shit. Je-sus.’

The sisters remain sitting beside each other. They smile and shake their heads. Tiril loves the feeling of knowing more about people and what they’re up to than Malene, and that she’s the one who’s clued in, the one who’s a tweenie and pissed off all the time.

‘Tiril,’ says Malene, after a while.

Her tone is stern. She’s always talked like that. As if she thinks she’s my mother, thinks Tiril. Come on then, out with it, since you’re so bloody grown-up, such great mates with Dad and think you can lick your way in everywhere, sitting there smiling saying yeah, fine , whenever Mum calls. Come on, out with it, since you think you’re such a good judge of who’s tweenie in their head and who isn’t.

‘Tiril,’ Malene says again, as though she has a fly in her mouth.

‘Yeah? Christ. I’m right here. Are you blind?’

‘It’s just,’ Malene hesitates, ‘do you know if there’s anything wrong with Dad?’

Tiril turns to face her.

‘With Dad? What do you mean?’

‘No, I don’t know.’ That E.T. expression comes across Malene’s face. She shrugs. ‘No, I don’t know. Just seems like something’s up.’

‘Oh,’ says Tiril, taking a last drag of the cigarette before flicking it off the loading ramp and taking a pack of gum from her jeans pocket. ‘That’s just Dad,’ she says, ‘he’s always been like that.’

‘So, you haven’t seen him then?’

‘Tonight?’ Tiril takes a piece of chewing gum and feels the fresh taste spread through her mouth. ‘He’s never around here anyway. Do you think I’d be sitting here smoking if he was? He’s off in the woods. Or in Sørmarka. Or up on top of Limahaugen looking out over the fjord. Him and Zitha.’

‘Mhm,’ says Malene. ‘It’s probably nothing.’

She looks at Tiril.

‘You should get a haircut,’ she says, reaching towards Tiril’s hair. ‘You’re getting split ends.’

‘Don’t,’ Tiril says, pulling away.

Malene’s gaze is still fixed on her.

With that look.

Can you please stop, don’t give me that look.

‘You’re so cute,’ says Malene, ‘it’s going to go great on Thursday.’

I’m going to start crying if you look at me like that.

‘You don’t know anything about it,’ says Tiril. ‘It might go really badly.’

‘No it won’t,’ Malene says, getting to her feet, ‘I’m coming to watch, Dad’s coming to watch and everyone’s going to be there. Mum would probably be there too if she could. Everyone in the gym hall is going to love you, you’re going to be great.’

Tiril looks askance at Malene. The nice gymnastics body. The supple movements. Malene, you walk like you were royalty, Grandad says. Tiril liked it when she injured her ankle last year. She didn’t say it, but she did. Miss Perfect Gymnast had to limp. Poor beautiful bitch.

‘Hey. Malene?’

‘Mhm?’

‘Do you think you can choose, I mean, between light and darkness?’

Tiril sees Malene lift her troubled gaze. Sees it drift over the school, the woods, up towards the telecom tower and the top of the hill, and it almost looks as though she’s muttering something.

If you kill someone, you cross the line.

If you never kill anyone, you never cross the line.

If you love someone, you cross the line.

If you never love someone, you never cross the line.

If you cross the line, the earth opens its jaws and swallows you.

Love?

Daniel throws the moped helmet back and forth between his hands.

He tilts his head to both sides, stretches his neck and tramps his feet restlessly.

If the fact that he needs to have her is called love, then that’s fine. That’s what we’ll say: I love you. Shit, he’s nervous now.

Typical. Just before something’s going to happen, it comes, that feeling. The cold and nausea in his stomach, the flashing behind his eyes and that freezing sensation in his temples. He tried to talk to the Child Welfare Officer about it once, told him about how he sometimes got cold and nauseous and felt he was losing control. He said he felt a crackling in his head and a flashing behind his eyes. He said he grew angry, lost the plot. The guy from Child Services was understanding, put his head to one side and asked him how he felt and what he thought and how he wanted to deal with it himself. Just like that psychologist with the stupid glasses, he talked like that too: And what do you think about it? Is that all they can do, ask questions and look sympathetic, is that what they learn at university, is that what they get paid for? Do they not bloody well have a solution? Haven’t they been studying for forty years in order to give him a solution?

Daniel continues throwing the helmet back and forth. If she doesn’t come soon then he’s going to have to go. It can get too much. He knows where the danger lies. No matter how caveman horny he gets, it’s like it just tips over, and everything is all fucked-up and cold. Then he needs to jump on his bike and ride and ride and ride until his head is like an empty room with all the windows open.

Do you hear me, Sandra?

Get a bloody move on, I can’t take this here.

He swallows and begins knocking his helmet against the brick wall of the substation. Looks around. What a shithole. Really disgusting, tall weeds and thicket, are they going to lie down and screw here? It’s not on, screwing in all this kak, probably wino piss and whatnot. It’s just not on.

Daniel lets the helmet in his hand come to rest and takes out a fresh cigarette. He shouldn’t smoke so much before she gets here, his breath will smell bad, but bollocks to that, he needs something to settle the nerves.

There’s lots of oil money round here. Loads of big houses, specially down by the fjord, not least on the road where Sandra lives, on Kong Haralds Gate, all filthy rich down there. Daniel always feels ill at ease when he walks into houses like that, may as well face it, he doesn’t belong in them. But then they hardly belong there themselves, the money is just an oil fluke. It’s not money they’ve worked for, it’s a windfall, money that rained down upon them like hell can rain down on other people.