The Circle (Hammer)

III


29



MINOO IS WALKING briskly along the dirt track towards Kärrgruvan. There is a layer of frost on the ground and the air smells of snow. She’s wearing salopettes, a down jacket, hat and mittens, and feels like a Sumo wrestler.

She normally sleeps until at least ten, sometimes twelve, at weekends. This morning she came down to breakfast at seven thirty. Her mother was at the kitchen table with her life-giving cup of coffee, and a magazine that was incomprehensible to anyone who didn’t know at least ten thousand Latin terms. She’d raised her eyebrows when she saw Minoo. ‘Is your clock not working properly?’ she asked, and turned the page.

‘I’m trying to develop some better habits,’ Minoo answered, and almost puked at how chirpy she sounded.

‘Minoo. You don’t always have to work so—’

‘We’re rehearsing a play today,’ Minoo said, to put a stop to the lecture.

‘God, I’d do anything for some culture up here,’ her mother said, pushing away the magazine. ‘Which play is it?’

Minoo wanted to turn the clock back. Idiot, she thought. ‘Romeo and Juliet. It’s for English.’

‘You’re putting on Romeo and Juliet?’

‘Just a few scenes.’

‘But, still, Shakespeare in year eleven English. Ambitious teacher. What part are you playing?’

‘We haven’t decided yet. Probably a tree.’

‘You’ll make a wonderful tree.’ Her mother smiled.

She got up and gave Minoo a quick hug. ‘Break a leg sweetie.’

As soon as her mother had left the kitchen, Minoo went to the coffee machine and filled a Thermos mug with coffee and milk.

Now she’s sipping it but the caffeine isn’t kicking in. When she reaches the fairground she’s so tired she could lie down on the dance floor and go to sleep. And maybe she would have, if Linnéa hadn’t already been there. She looks even more tired than Minoo, sitting on the stage, writing in her diary. She’s wearing a dark blue down jacket that is several sizes too big and a far cry from her usual style.

Minoo walks up the steps into the pavilion. Linnéa doesn’t look up.

‘Hi,’ Minoo says.

‘Hi.’ Linnéa carries on writing.

Minoo drinks her coffee, forcing herself not to start babbling. Instead she leans quietly against the railing.

Not that it’s ever quiet inside Minoo’s head: to-do lists, obligations, possible and impossible scenarios play out constantly. And there’s always a stupid remark she made or some embarrassing thing she did to obsess about. Sometimes she contemplates embarrassing things she did a hundred years ago and is overwhelmed by shame. Like when she and her cousin Shirin were pretending that their Barbie and Ken dolls were having sex and Aunt Bahar came in. Shirin had said immediately it had been Minoo’s idea. Which it had. Bahar had laughed, but Minoo still wants to crawl under a stone every time she thinks of it.

Linnéa giggles suddenly.

‘What is it?’ Minoo asks.

‘You looked funny, that’s all.’

Minoo smiles hesitantly.

‘Is that coffee?’ Linnéa asks.

‘Do you want a sip?’ She walks over to Linnéa, who takes the mug and gulps. ‘Oops. I think I took the last of it,’ she says, smiling weakly.

‘That’s okay,’ Minoo answers.

Linnéa stuffs her notepad in one of her oversized jacket’s pockets. ‘This group’s starting to have a few too many people I hate. I don’t know how I’ll be able to listen to that woman without strangling her.’

Minoo doesn’t know how to respond.

The days after the meeting in the principal’s office have in some ways been the nicest for a long time. Finally they have someone to show them the way. She hasn’t had to brood over demons, and instead has been able to focus on doing her homework and pining for Max.

Minoo knows that Linnéa thinks the principal let Elias and Rebecka die, but she herself is not so sure. There must be reasons they don’t know about. She can’t believe that anyone would let two people die without intervening just because some rules have to be followed.

She wants to give the principal a chance. There is no alternative and she’s longing for knowledge. And she’s hoping that the principal will discover that Minoo, too, has a power.

‘Do you think you have a power you don’t know about?’ she asks Linnéa.

Linnéa meets her gaze. ‘Why? Do you?’

‘No. But I was thinking that since everyone else seems to … Have you felt anything?’

Linnéa’s eyes wander to the fairground entrance where Vanessa is arriving. She’s wearing a jacket that’s far too light, as if she doesn’t want to accept that winter’s set in. Vanessa probably thinks the seasons ought to adapt to her, not the other way around. Minoo smiles to herself.

‘Christ, I’ve got such a hangover.’ Vanessa groans, as she trudges on to the stage. When she catches sight of the Thermos mug, her eyes glint. ‘Is that coffee?’

‘It’s empty,’ Linnéa says.

Vanessa rolls her eyes. ‘Christ, what a wonderful f*cking morning,’ she says, and sinks down next to Linnéa.

Minoo notices how close to each other they’re sitting. Perhaps they’re becoming friends.

‘Where’s Her Witchiness?’ Vanessa sticks a piece of gum into her mouth. ‘I thought she’d be waiting here, whip in hand.’

Linnéa giggles. She and Vanessa start talking about friends they have in common. Soon they’re completely absorbed in their conversation. It’s not that they’re shutting Minoo out, but they do nothing to include her. As usual she doesn’t know how to break in without sounding either like a precocious know-all, or an annoying younger sister.

Minoo sits on the dance floor and pulls out her biology book. She pretends to read, but all she can think is how much she misses Rebecka.



The bus shelter is built of red-painted corrugated iron. Someone had come up with the idea of painting small windows on it with a view of a garden. Later the word SLUT had appeared in black marker across the flowers. Anna-Karin has always felt it was directed at her.

Only two buses run past here on Saturdays, but the principal said she could pick her up. She hadn’t dared to refuse. The principal scares the shit out of her. She worries that Adriana Lopez will divine at a glance what she’s done to her mother.

She hasn’t slept a wink all night. As soon as she closed her eyes she saw the pot of boiling water and her mother’s hands. She certainly hadn’t meant her to get hurt. Of course not.

Most frightening of all, she’s not sure how her power influences her mother. In the beginning she used it so intensively that she lost control of it. It started to work on its own, like a snowball sent rolling down a slope. It’s the same with Julia, Felicia and the others at school, except Jari. She still has to use it actively on him.

An expensive-looking dark blue car is driving towards her. The principal is sitting behind the wheel. Anna-Karin’s insides twist, as if someone had grabbed them with a pair of pliers.

Pull yourself together, Anna-Karin.

The car pulls up to the kerb. Anna-Karin gets up and opens the passenger door.

‘Hello,’ the principal says, with a cool smile. ‘Sorry I’m late.’

‘That’s okay,’ Anna-Karin mumbles, and gets in.

‘I need to talk to you,’ the principal says, as she accelerates.

The pliers twist again. Anna-Karin can’t look at the principal so she stares out through the windscreen, at the grey sky, the black trees and the white road markers rushing past.

‘You are abusing your powers,’ the principal says, ‘as you’re well aware.’

‘I haven’t—’

‘It’s not a question. It’s a fact. There may be extenuating circumstances, since there was no one to guide you, but rules are rules. It’s my job to inform you that the Council has launched an investigation.’

‘An investigation?’

‘You’re committing a crime, Anna-Karin.’

Anna-Karin turns to her. She’s sitting there with her perfect profile, in her perfect winter coat, in her perfect car. She’s judging Anna-Karin.

‘You don’t understand anything, you and that Council.’

The principal lets out a long sigh. They drive in silence as they approach Engelsfors’s most exclusive area. The principal parks the car outside a big green house. ‘You haven’t been found guilty yet, but you have to stop immediately.’

‘I’ll do as I please.’ Part of Anna-Karin is fascinated by how rude she can be to someone who terrifies her.

The principal looks probingly at her. ‘Anna-Karin,’ she says. ‘Answer me honestly. Do you think you can stop?’

‘Of course. But I’m doing nothing wrong,’ she says stubbornly.

The principal scoffs. ‘We’ll talk more about this later,’ she says. ‘Here’s Ida.’

Anna-Karin sees a blonde figure hurrying towards them. She hunches in her seat and stares at her hands. She’s not going to let Ida see how frightened she is.