Tore Renberg - See You Tomorrow

Shit. Sandra tries to hold them back but they won’t be bossed. She shuts her eyes, places her fingers over them, inhales and exhales.

When she opens them again, she catches sight of him. And her. Daniel and Veronika are standing a few metres from the window, between McDonald’s and the fountain in the square. No doubt about it. It’s them. Sandra has a rushing sensation in her head, as though a thousand tiny spears are flying from one side of her brain to the other: his head tilted to one side, his hand going to her hair, his fingers moving a lock from her cheek.

Daniel and Veronika.

‘Sandra, what is it—’

That’s it. That’s what it’s all about.

Malene turns and looks out the window.

‘Oh my God, isn’t that—’

‘Yes, it is.’

‘But—’

Daniel puts his arms around Veronika. He pulls her close and runs his hand up and down her back. She leans into him, resting her head on his chest.

Malene looks at Sandra in confusion.

‘But I don’t understand, is he, have they—’

She turns back towards the window.

Daniel lets go of Veronika. They stand looking at one another. The deaf girl’s face is covered in lines going up and down and across, as though it were divided into pieces. Daniel brings his hand to her face, tracing the lines with his fingers, opens his mouth and says something. Veronika nods and smiles and then they leave. Walking past the fountain, out of sight, into the gathering darkness.

‘You need to breathe easy,’ Malene whispers.

‘I can hardly breathe at all,’ Sandra whispers back.

Thea unrolled the hose from the basement, Tiril sprayed the entrails off the window, feeling cool standing there with her feet apart and a cig hanging from the side of her mouth as the jet of water hit the pane. Thea fetched her father’s hammer, but looked away as Tiril pulled the nail from the tree and out through the cat’s head. She had to stand on a lawn chair and use all the strength she had, the bark of the tree made a whining sound as the nail came free, the head and pelt of the cat landing with a smack at the foot of the tree. Tiril was satisfied. They had withstood the attack from Bunny’s big brother. Thea fetched two big black bin liners. As if to demonstrate it was no problem for her, Tiril put out her cigarette in the carcass of the dead cat before lifting it up from the ground — uuchh, Tiril, disgusting — and throwing it into the bag. She tied the bag tightly, double-wrapped it in the other bin liner and then said: ‘I’ll take care of this.’

‘So, like, what are you going to do with it?’

Tiril held the bag up in Thea’s face and shook it about.

‘Uhhyuu! Quit it!’

Tiril threw the bag to Thea. She reacted as though a live rat had landed on her lap and flung it quickly back.

‘Tiril! Quit it!’

‘I said I’d take care of it, didn’t I?’ Tiril laughed and began to make her way out of the garden.

‘Where are you going?’

Tiril halted. ‘Are there any of the neighbours you don’t like?’

‘What?’

Tiril put one hand on her hip and swung the rubbish bag round in the other.

‘Do you think this is all a joke? Do you think my mum and dad aren’t going to twig that something’s gone on here? Do you think the neighbours aren’t going to discover what’s happened if they find a cat in their rubbish?’

Tiril walked back to her friend. She placed her hand on her shoulder. ‘No,’ she said. ‘I don’t think so.’

A little over an hour later, Thea’s parents arrived home. The girls were practising, Thea by the piano, edgy and ill-at-ease, Tiril seated beside her, singing, better than ever. She felt something had loosened in her chest when she sang the lines she loved: this pain is just too real. When the parents first entered the living room they stood still and listened. After a while they sat down on the sofa by the window and when the girls finished they clapped and said it was one of the most beautiful things they’d ever heard, and as the four of them made their way to the kitchen, Tiril mouthed ‘I told you so’ to Thea, before she turned to Thea’s parents and said: ‘It’s so great we get to practise here, we’ve been at it for hours now.’

‘Yeah, I can definitely hear it,’ said Thea’s father. ‘You’ve got at least two fans that can’t wait to hear the two of you tomorrow in the gym hall. Isn’t that right, dear?’

‘Absolutely,’ said Thea’s mother. ‘By the way, it’s really wet in the garden. What happened?’

Tiril saw a nervous twitch at the side of Thea’s mouth and hurried to say: ‘A few brats came along and threw eggs at the window. We brought the hose out and washed off the mess.’

Thea’s father clicked his fingers. ‘Heh heh,’ he chortled, his eyebrows dancing up and down a little as he turned to his wife. ‘Eh? There you go. Girls nowadays,’ he confirmed with visible satisfaction, ‘they don’t take rubbish from anyone. Are you both hungry?’

‘Yeah — we wouldn’t say no,’ Tiril replied and noticed how everything just fits into place when you feel self-confident.

They walked into the kitchen, where, a few hours earlier, the girls had witnessed the cat’s entrails hitting the windowpane. Thea’s father opened the fridge door. He does resemble Dad, Tiril thought, around the same age, same sort of build, but whereas Dad does everything with a kind of reluctance, Thea’s father does it all with such ease. In a matter of seconds he’d taken out broccoli, carrots, a fillet of chicken, and in no time he had heated up the wok, cut up the vegetables, kissed his wife on the neck and made a risqué joke as she tied the apron round his waist.

Tiril didn’t find it gross, the way they flirted with each other. Although it wasn’t so long since Tiril couldn’t stand that kind of thing, not long at all since the sight of two happy grown-ups made her livid, particularly if they were the parents of someone she knew. But Thea’s parents, she can handle that — perhaps because Thea’s father always makes her laugh.

That was awesome.

Pulling the nail out of the tree, out of the cat’s head.

Thea hadn’t noticed, but Tiril had: Bunny’s big brother, that sick fucker, had hammered the nail through the cat’s eye. Right through his left eye. The sound when she had extracted the nail, like putting your foot into a waterlogged welly.

The feeling she had had, it was good.

When she held the cat’s furry skull, when the limp body hung from the dead head, like a figure from a puppet show. She hadn’t felt sorry for the cat. She’d just looked into its dead eyes and all she was able to see was the sick, but nevertheless fantastic, act. His hands. Bunny’s big brother’s hands. One of them holding the head against the tree. The other gripping the hammer. The nail in his mouth. The wail of the cat as the blows rained down.

Because he wanted to make it clear that nobody touched his brother.

No matter, Tiril thinks, no matter what way you look at it, he’s one sick fucker, but a strong fucker, and in one way he did what was right. Just like she did what was right. So the only question is: who’s stronger? Who can sing more beautifully?

It was getting on for six o’clock and the girls left the table; it was still a while before they were due at rehearsals. They went to Thea’s room where, for probably close to the thousandth time, they sat down to watch Evanescense videos on YouTube. They talked about what an insane day it had been, they felt content and happy with themselves, they laughed about how they’d handled Bunny’s big brother, how they’d handled Thea’s mum and dad, and now, now they’re looking deep into one another’s eyes, speaking in hushed tones, as they talk about how exceptionally well they performed the song in practice today.