The Circle (Hammer)

20



MINOO DOESN’T REMEMBER how she got home, just that her mother opened the door and that she almost collapsed on the steps in front of her.

When they helped her to bed she knew she wouldn’t be able to stand up again for a long time. The thought of food made her feel sick. Warm tea and lightly buttered toast are all she can face. Her mother sits on the edge of the bed and tries to get her to talk, but she’s too exhausted to respond, barely has the strength to even look at her. Eventually her mother gives up. Before she leaves, she opens the window to let in some fresh air. Minoo can’t even muster the energy to get up and close it when she starts to feel cold, so her father does it when he comes in. He lingers for a moment at her bedside, mumbles something about how anxious he is about her, that she just has to shout if she needs anything. Minoo shuts her eyes. She wants to be left in peace. She’s too tired even to cry. All night she slips in and out of sleep, and in the morning she feels more drained than ever.

Vanessa rings to tell her they’re holding a minute’s silence at school for Rebecka. Minoo has no intention of going. A minute for a life is insulting.

The rest of the day passes in a blur. Some of the time she’s sleeping. Some of the time she’s awake. It makes little difference. Her father comes home during his lunch break to look in on her and makes her another slice of toast. She can’t manage it all, and flushes the rest down the toilet once he’s gone back to work.

When darkness falls she lets the shadows take over the room. Now she falls into a deep sleep.



They’re standing on the dance floor. The leaves on the trees are glowing an unnatural red. Rebecka is wearing a long white nightgown, identical to the one Ida had on that first night. Minoo is in her underwear, embarrassed because she feels naked.

‘You’re late,’ Rebecka says.

Something is wrong with her face. Something small is moving around under the skin, causing it to bulge and come loose from the muscle wherever it passes.

Rebecka takes a step towards her and Minoo sees the thing start to break through the skin. A little sore appears on Rebecka’s cheek and widens. Something glistening yellow-white forces its way out. It’s a maggot.

‘Help me,’ Rebecka whispers, holding out her hands. The tips of her fingers are black. ‘Help me,’ she whispers again, and comes closer.

Minoo tries to back away, but there’s resistance in the air, as if she’s wading through deep water. The maggot is hanging out of the wound and wriggles until it drops to the floor at Minoo’s feet. Then the skin of Rebecka’s face breaks open in several more places. Underneath it a glistening yellow-white mass is writhing through her dead flesh.

Rebecka puts her hands on Minoo’s bare shoulders. ‘Do you see what you’ve done?’ Rebecka says. Her cold fingers move up to Minoo’s throat and squeeze, just as her face falls off altogether.



When Minoo wakes up, her throat is sore, as if she’s been screaming. She’s drenched in sweat. Her sheets are damp, her covers soaked, and her pillow is as wet as a sponge.

But she’s gained new strength. For every hour she lies there she’s letting Rebecka down. She has to find her murderer – the monster who killed her and Elias.

Minoo gets up, showers and brushes her teeth. The thermometer indicates a few degrees below zero and she pulls on a pair of dark jeans and a black knitted cardigan over a black T-shirt. Then she has to lie down for a moment to catch her breath.

Her mother and father are at work and she texts them to let them know she’s going to school today. She stops in front of the refrigerator, but the thought of food still makes her feel sick. Better to get out while she still has the will to do so.

The sun is blinding, but offers no warmth.

When she cuts across the field, the frosted grass rustles under her boots.

She can see the school in the distance. Her gaze moves automatically to the roof. How long was Rebecka in the air? A second? Two? Did she have time to scream?

As she passes a petrol station she stops short. Black words against a yellow background. All capitals, as if the letters are shouting.



REBECKA’S BOYFRIEND TALKS ABOUT SUICIDE PACT



Minoo steps into the harsh fluorescent lighting of the petrol station and buys a copy of the national tabloid. Three full-page spreads. All the articles are by Cissi, except one, which talks about ‘similar pacts’ around the world.

Minoo’s eyes run back and forth across the pages. A passport photo of the principal, who has refused to comment. A picture of Elias. A picture of the school against a gloomy cloud-filled sky, with a dotted arrow indicating where Rebecka had fallen from. A close-up of candles, flowers and handwritten cards with hearts that students have left on the spot where she died.

There is also a picture of Rebecka’s mother, sitting at her kitchen table with her hands clasped in front of her. And taking up an entire page: Rebecka’s school photo from year nine. Minoo knows she hated that picture. She touches Rebecka’s face gently. It’s a nice photo. She should’ve liked it.

Minoo flips to the interview with Gustaf as she walks towards the school. He is also depicted in a year-nine photo. He’s smiling into the camera with a confidence you only have if people have told you all your life how great you look. He seems not to have a care in the world. In contrast with the headline is a heart-wrenching quote from him: ‘I’ll never forget her.’

But when Minoo skims the article, she becomes angry.

It describes Rebecka as one of the school’s most popular students, but it portrays her as a person who was ‘actually’ introverted and depressed. Gustaf describes how he always felt she was thinking about things she didn’t want to talk about. He comments on the rumours about her eating disorder. (‘I think it was true’) and makes himself out to be the perfect boyfriend, who tried to help her in every conceivable way. Then he washes his hands of it: ‘But you can’t help someone who doesn’t want to be helped.’ What angers Minoo most of all is the last sentence. ‘She’s probably better off where she is now.’ As if what happened is a good thing.

Minoo crumples the newspaper and throws it into the bin outside the school gates.

‘Excuse me, may I ask you a few questions?’

Minoo looks up and meets the glinting lens of a black TV camera. A microphone is shoved under her nose. The reporter introduces herself and the channel she works for. Several other journalists are standing behind her. Their faces exude a combination of impatience and eager anticipation. They come from radio stations, local papers, national tabloids and TV news channels.

‘I understand that you were one of Rebecka’s closest friends,’ the reporter says.

Her hair is so perfect and shiny that it looks fake. Minoo has never seen hair like it in real life. The other journalists approach. Some have their pads and pens at the ready, in case Minoo says anything of value.

Minoo’s brain gets stuck. The camera inches closer.

‘You are Minoo, yes?’ the woman asks.

Minoo sees a school yearbook in her hand. She sees herself circled in thick red marker, Rebecka is ringed too.

‘It’s just awful what happened. What do you know about the suicide pact she was part of?’

‘There was no suicide pact,’ Minoo says.

The camera lens sniffs around her face. It’s a like an open maw, ready to swallow her.

‘Are you in the pact, too?’ the woman asks.

Minoo stares at her. Didn’t she hear what Minoo said?

‘How many have joined?’

Her heart is beating fast and her dizziness has come back. Minoo lowers her gaze and walks through the gates, closing her ears to the woman calling her name.

‘What disgusting behaviour,’ a man she’s never seen before says to her.

Minoo looks him over. He’s young, tall and fashionably unshaven, probably good-looking, if you like that type.

‘It’s people like her who give us journalists a bad name,’ he says.

Minoo’s gaze falls on the flowers and candles that mark the spot where Rebecka died. She continues towards the front entrance to the school. The guy with the beard follows her. He says he’s from one of the tabloids. The one that Cissi hasn’t sold her tall tales to. ‘Can you tell us about your friend so I can do her justice in the paper?’ he asks.

She wonders if these reporters will come back to ask other students whether they knew Minoo, the latest victim of the suicide pact.

‘Can’t you at least tell me what you know about the pact? You do realise it has to be stopped! Or do you want more kids to die?’

Minoo stops at the foot of the steps and turns. The guy with the beard looks at her eagerly, as if he were a Labrador and she was holding a tennis ball. He’s almost drooling.

‘Come on, Minoo. You can talk to me. I only left school myself a few years ago. I remember what it was like.’

Minoo takes off her backpack and holds it. She feels so tempted to throw it at him. Her chemistry book is heavy. It would hurt. ‘There was and is no pact,’ she says, and heads up the steps.

Vanessa is standing just inside the door, talking on her mobile. Their eyes meet for a moment. Vanessa lowers the phone from her ear, but Minoo doesn’t stop. She marches down the corridor to her locker, passing Anna-Karin on the way. She’s perched on a table, surrounded by admirers who seem to worship her. She breaks off in mid-sentence when she catches sight of Minoo, seems to lose her train of thought, but then turns back to the others and continues talking. Julia and Felicia laugh loudly.

Minoo pulls out her maths book and notebook, stuffs them into her backpack and shuts the locker.

When she turns, Anna-Karin is standing there. ‘How are you doing?’ she asks.

Minoo shrugs her shoulders.

‘I’m going to investigate the principal’s office today,’ says Anna-Karin, in a low voice. ‘Nicolaus said she’s with the town council all afternoon. I’ll get the assistant principal to let me in.’

Minoo hesitates. Anna-Karin shouldn’t expose herself to any more risk. On the other hand, what’s the alternative?

‘I’ll do it during my free period after lunch,’ says Anna-Karin, and returns to her court.

Minoo walks along the corridor. Sweat runs down her back and inside her jeans as she goes up the stairs.

When she reaches the second floor she’s too tired to go any further. She has to sit down and catch her breath. She stares at the stone steps, at the white fossils trapped inside them for eternity. Orthoceratites. That’s what the little creatures are called, she remembers. Out of the corner of her eye she sees jeans-clad legs running past her up the steps, hears shouts and laughter and disconnected sentences – I think he likes me, he just doesn’t know how to show it … No way! No f*cking way! Are you kidding? … Always says she hasn’t revised, but she got, like, twenty-eight out of thirty in the test– and when she gets up it’s as if her heart is too weak to pump the blood all the way up to her head. Her knees give way and she is amazed to find that the cliché is actually true – that they really do give way. Darkness closes in so she seems to be peering through a tapering tube. Then she falls.

But someone catches her. When she opens her eyes she’s looking straight into Max’s concerned face. She’s sitting on the steps, leaning against the wall, and he’s so close to her that she’s breathing in his exhalations. And he hers? She has a strange taste in her mouth, which probably means she has bad breath.

‘Are you all right? Should I get the nurse?’ he asks.

She turns away so that she can breathe again. ‘I’m all right, I just haven’t eaten anything,’ she mutters.

At once she becomes aware that people have gathered and are staring at her.

Max opens his briefcase and pulls out a banana. She takes it and tries to stand up, but black spots swirl in front of her eyes.

‘Eat this first,’ Max says.

‘Thanks,’ she says. ‘I can manage now.’

But Max stays where he is.

Minoo starts to panic. She can’t imagine eating anything in front of Max while he’s watching her so closely, especially not some phallic fruit. She starts peeling it, so slowly that she hopes he’ll get bored and wander off. But he doesn’t budge.

She raises the banana to her lips. No, she can’t do it. She breaks off small pieces instead, pops them into her mouth, hopes her hands aren’t too dirty. Can’t he just go away?

‘I’m so sorry about what happened to Rebecka. You were friends, weren’t you?’ Max asks.

‘Yes,’ Minoo says, her mouth full of banana.

Max looks as if he wants to say something else, but instead he sits down next to Minoo and puts an arm around her.

There’s something about the way he does it, so totally natural, that makes her cry for the first time since Rebecka died. The warmth of his arm melts the lump in her throat and releases the tears. Someone catcalls at them. She doesn’t care. She doesn’t care that she probably looks like a depressed baboon as she scrunches up her face and sobs, holding a half-eaten banana.

Please don’t say anything, she thinks. There’s nothing to say and if you try it’ll just ruin the moment. This is the only thing that helps.

And Max remains quiet. The bell rings and the students around them disappear into their classrooms. Max’s arm stays put. His breathing is calm and steady.

After a while she wipes away the tears with her sleeve. She’s probably got mascara all over her cheeks. ‘I have to wash my face,’ she says.

‘Take as much time as you need,’ Max says, and gets up.

He heads up the stairs. Just as he’s about to walk out of sight, he turns and flashes Minoo a small smile. She nods, as if to say she’s okay. Once he’s out of sight she sniffles and stands up on her weak legs.