That was how he ended up in the clinic, and that was where he met Baloo. He worked there and was called that because he was the same size and had the same posture as the bear in The Jungle Book. When they became friends, it was fairly natural that the sinewy, dark-haired Vidar would be given the nickname Mowgli. Perhaps that helped him, getting a different name. Perhaps he was able to pretend to be a different person then.
Baloo didn’t say much, but he realized that Vidar had a lot of energy that needed a positive outlet if it wasn’t to explode in a negative way. When he found out that the boy played hockey, he borrowed some goalie’s gear, and every time the fuses in Vidar’s head were threatening to explode in impulsive outbursts of rage about anything at all, Baloo would suggest calmly, “Okay, Mowgli, let’s go to the basement.” There was a storeroom in the basement, large enough for Baloo to stand by one wall throwing tennis balls as hard as he could toward Vidar at the other end. After a month or so Baloo laid a new floor, smooth enough to feel like ice, so he could fire real hockey pucks.
They played as often as they could; sometimes Baloo even broke the rules and played with Vidar at night. He did it because he hoped it would help Vidar to learn not to break all the other rules. Definitions of “care” and “punishment” are always changing, and Baloo did what he could to give them a defined shape. He rarely said much, but he was the one who protested loudest when Vidar was released. “He’s not ready!” Baloo declared. No one cared. Vidar had a powerful friend somewhere, someone who had made sure that all the documentation that was required suddenly materialized. So when Vidar left the unit Baloo just whispered sadly to him, “Stay on the ice, Mowgli. Concentrate on hockey.”
* * *
Maya and Leo are sitting at the computer, and in her memory it will feel as though they spent several days playing. She holds the words inside her for as long as she can, but in the end she can’t help saying, “Don’t fight for my sake again. I know you love me, but don’t fight for my sake. Fight for other things if you must. But not for me.”
“Okay,” her little brother promises.
They don’t say much after that. But sometimes Leo gets something wrong and is so angry that he hits himself in the thigh and yells “Idiot!” and then Maya laughs so loudly that her throat starts to hurt. A bit like old times for a short while. Simple.
But then Maya gets something right in the game and even Leo is impressed, so he turns to give her a high five. She doesn’t react in time, and his hand hits her shoulder instead.
Maya jumps so hard that she knocks her chair over, as if he’d burned her. She stands there gasping, eyes wide open, and curses herself and tries to pretend it was nothing. But Leo has already understood. Sometimes little brothers do that. Hardly anyone has touched Maya since the rape. It doesn’t matter that Leo is her brother; fear isn’t logical, the body reacts independently of the brain.
Leo switches the computer off. “Get your jacket,” he says sternly.
“Why?” Maya wonders sheepishly.
“I’m going to show you something.”
* * *
When Vidar walks out from the unit, Teemu, Woody, and Spider are waiting outside in a car. Teemu has to give Spider a shove to get him to stop hugging Vidar. But he will never set foot in the apartment he has been given by the council’s housing association.
“I have to live at home. I have to help you count,” he tells his brother.
Teemu kisses him on the head.
* * *
The first thing Vidar wants to talk about? Beartown Ice Hockey! What does the team look like? What players have we got this year? Are we going to beat Hed? He’s the team’s keenest fan and—after his mom’s kitchen—the place he’s missed most is the standing area in the rink. Teemu can’t stop patting his younger brother on the shoulder and doesn’t even tell Vidar that he won’t need his place in the stand this year, that he’s going to get a chance to play instead. Teemu doesn’t say anything because he doesn’t want to make his brother nervous, and for a few short minutes his own happiness is pure and uncomplicated. He doesn’t want to spoil that.
Then Vidar asks about Benji Ovich. The last time the guys talked to Vidar, they told him that the new coach had made Ovich team captain, and they had been ecstatic at the time, because they regarded Benji as one of them. A Beartown kid who stood tall, took one hit, and meted out three in response. But when Vidar mentions his name both Spider and Woody fall silent. Their eyes harden, their words are worse.
“We’ve found out something about him . . .”
Vidar listens. The guys can’t bring themselves to use Benji’s name; they talk as if he’d died. Perhaps he has, at least in part, the person they thought he was. He’s no longer one of them.
Vidar may be unlike most of the members of the Pack because he doesn’t care who the hell anyone sleeps with, he never has. But the men in the black jackets aren’t talking about sexuality, Vidar knows that, they’re talking about trust and loyalty. Benji has pretended to be something he isn’t. He’s a fake, he can’t be trusted, and Spider and Woody think he’s shamed the Pack.
“We had his back, and all the time he wanted to screw us up the ass!” Spider snaps.
Vidar says nothing. When he was twelve or thirteen, just after Spider had fought for him in McDonald’s, Vidar asked, “Are we hooligans?” Spider shook his head seriously and replied, “No. We’re soldiers. I stand up for you, and you stand up for me. We haven’t got anything if we can’t trust each other a thousand percent. Get it?” Vidar got it. The members of the Pack have held together all their lives, and you don’t build up that sort of friendship without complex sacrifices.
They have different reasons to hate Benji. Some are disgusted, and some feel betrayed; some are just worried about what opposing fans are going to sing about them now. Some have the bear tattooed on their necks, and how much do you have to love something to do that? So Vidar says nothing. He’s just glad to be going home, that everything will be going back to normal.
And when Teemu leans forward and whispers, “The new coach is holding an open A-team tryout for you. If you’re good enough, you’ll be allowed to play!” Vidar’s joy sings so loudly inside his head that there’s no room for him to think about anything else.
* * *
It’s only sports.
* * *
The dogs at the kennels start to bark in the distance as the siblings approach, but Adri comes out blearily and quiet them down. Leo and Maya stop, alarmed.
“Is Jeanette here? Our teacher at school . . . she’s supposed to have a martial arts club . . . is it here?” Leo asks.
“?‘Club’ might be a bit optimistic. But she’s in the barn.” Adri chuckles and yawns as she scratches her wire-wool hair.
Leo nods but doesn’t move, hands in pockets but staring with interest at the dogs. “What breed are they?”
Adri frowns, looks from Leo to Maya, tries to figure out what they’re doing here. Perhaps she realizes, because she, too, has sisters. So she asks, “Do you like dogs?”
Leo nods. “Yes. But Mom and Dad won’t let me have one.”
“Do you want to help me feed them?” Adri asks.
“Yes!” Leo exclaims, looking happier than a puppy with two tails.
Adri looks warmly at Maya. “Jeanette’s in the barn, you’ll find her there.”
* * *
So Maya walks into the barn alone. Jeanette is practicing with a sandbag and stops midmovement, trying to not to look surprised. Maya looks as though she’s already regretting her decision to come. Jeanette wipes the sweat from her brow and asks, “So you want to try martial arts?”
Maya rubs her palms together. “I don’t really know what’s involved. My brother kind of dragged me here.”
“Why?” Jeanette wonders.
“Because he’s worried I might hurt someone.”
“Who?”
Maya cracks as she admits, “Me.”
* * *