The Circle (Hammer)

36



THE DOORS TO the school cafeteria open in front of Anna-Karin. It’s dark in there, so dark that she can only just make out the contours of the people filling the space.

She doesn’t want to be here. She never asked to be chosen. But she can no longer control the admiration of those around her. It’s spread on to people she hasn’t even tried to influence. They are simply affected by the fact that other people seem to adore her. And this is the result.

The Lucia crown on her head is heavy. A few drops of wax drip on to the head cloth protecting her hair.

‘And one … two … one, two, three, four!’

The music and drama teacher, Kerstin Stålnacke, is counting enthusiastically. She’s waving with such exuberance that her Santa-red tunic is billowing like a sheet on a clothes line. Her hennaed hair is sticking straight up on top of her head. On ‘four’ the Lucia procession starts singing behind Anna-Karin.

‘Natten går tunga fjät, runt gård och stuva …’

Anna-Karin mimes the well-known but incomprehensible words as she marches slowly into the darkness.

The burning candles cast a warm glow around her as she moves. Faces appear out of the darkness. There’s Vanessa, breaking a heart-shaped ginger biscuit into three pieces. And there’s Minoo, watching Anna-Karin gravely. Kevin is rocking back on his chair and drumming his fingers on the table. Felicia and Julia smile like the fanatical members of the Anna-Karin sect they are. It was they who nominated her to be this year’s Lucia. The song seems never-ending.

‘Natten var stor och stum. Nu, hör, det svingar. I alla tysta rum, sus som av vingar.’

More drops of wax land on Anna-Karin’s headcloth as she walks through the darkened cafeteria. The air smells of alcohol-free mulled wine and warm bodies, and when she approaches the back of the cafeteria, where they’ve cleared away the tables and chairs to make room for the Lucia procession, she catches a whiff of coffee from one of the teachers’ tables.

When Anna-Karin takes her place at the front of the space, and the procession gathers in a half circle behind her, she sees the principal staring right through her. She starts to perspire with the heat of the candles, and a clammy sheen spreads across her face. The palms of her hands, in the traditional Lucia pose, are damp. Max is sitting next to the principal, smiling encouragingly at her. Petter Backman, known for putting his arm around his female students the first chance he gets, is on his other side and lets his eyes wander covetously over her.

Finally the song ends. Ida, who is a handmaiden and is standing to the right of Anna-Karin, belts out the final ‘Luciaaa’ so her voice carries above everyone else’s. It’s obvious that she wishes she could do a solo. Ida is used to being the school’s Lucia, and Anna-Karin hopes that she’ll resist the temptation to set fire to her hair with her candle. She is reassured to see the assistant principal, Tommy Ekberg, with a fire extinguisher at the ready.

One carol leads into the next, and Anna-Karin mimes through them. Kerstin Stålnacke flails her arms as if she has just stepped on a wasps’ nest.

Anna-Karin catches sight of Jari, who is skirting one of the walls until he’s standing just a few metres from her. He’s alone. And he has eyes only for Anna-Karin. Her smile is suddenly genuine. And he smiles back, glowing and sparkling more brightly than any of the candles. It’s nearly over.

‘Hej tomtegubbar slå i glasen och låt oss lustiga vara …’

Anna-Karin holds Jari’s gaze.

‘En liten tid, vi leva här, med mycket möda och stort besvär …’

Anna-Karin hears Ida get ready to belt out the final verse.

‘Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee–’ The high note gives way to a piercing scream. ‘… eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!’

Everyone in the cafeteria falls deathly silent. The principal leans forward, about to stand up. There is a loud thud next to Anna-Karin and she whirls around so suddenly that the crown of candles slips off her head and hits the floor, some of the candles breaking loose. The singers in their long white gowns jump away to escape the flames, and out of the corner of her eye Anna-Karin sees Tommy Ekberg running towards her with the fire extinguisher.

Ida has dropped to her knees. Her eyelids are twitching and her eyeballs have turned so far into her skull that only the whites are visible. Her lips are moving and Anna-Karin thinks Ida is saying her name. She leans close to hear better.

Ida is as quick as a cobra. Her hand flies out and grabs Anna-Karin’s wrist.

A white light flashes and Anna-Karin is blinded.



Anna-Karin sees a blue sky, and the edge of a roof. The roof of the school. She’s lying there feeling so tired, so dreadfully tired. A hard wind is whipping her face. Her head is buzzing and throbbing and she’s looking for Gustaf.

Gustaf. There’s so much love inside her for him. It even breaks through the awful pain in her forehead.

Anna-Karin realises she’s no longer in her own body. She’s inside Rebecka. As if she were a parasite looking at the world through Rebecka’s eyes. She can’t hear her thoughts, but each feeling and impression permeates her as if it were her own.

This gives way to longing for another person. Minoo. The only one who can help her. She fumbles for her mobile and pulls it out.

She hears footsteps approaching from the open door behind her.

Rebecka and Anna-Karin turn together, in a single movement, a single body.

And there he is. Anna-Karin feels Rebecka’s confusion.

‘Hello,’ she says. ‘How did you know I was here?’

Gustaf doesn’t answer. He approaches her but doesn’t look her in the eyes.

Rebecka barely recognises him. She doesn’t understand. ‘What is it?’ she asks.

The next moment, Gustaf bends forward and helps her to her feet. But he doesn’t let go of her. Instead he pulls her across the roof.

‘Stop it, Gustaf … What are you doing? Let go of me …’

Her voice is weak. She has no strength left to scream and the pain that’s throbbing in her head makes it even more impossible. Gustaf’s face shows no emotion as he pulls her towards the edge –it’s as if he just wants to get it over with. Rebecka tries to brace her feet against the roof, but they keep slipping.

‘Gustaf, stop it! Please, stop!’

Gustaf turns her so that she’s standing with her back to the playground below. The wind tugs at her clothes. Terror takes hold of Rebecka and paralyses Anna-Karin.

Anna-Karin tries to shut her eyes, but she can’t. Not while Rebecka is unable to take her eyes off her boyfriend. She still can’t believe what’s happening.

‘Look at me,’ Rebecka begs.

Gustaf meets her gaze. For a few silent seconds, Anna-Karin stares straight into those cold blue eyes. The sudden shove against her chest takes her by surprise and she falls. Her arms fly out, her fingers claw at the empty air and then—

Anna-Karin hears the excruciating thud as Rebecka’s body hits the ground. But she feels nothing. Her head is lying so strangely, flat against the ground. She doesn’t understand how she can still be alive. She tries to take a breath, but her lungs produce only a wet bubbling sound as her mouth fills with blood.

Suddenly something unknown intrudes into her consciousness. Rebecka recognises the presence.

It’s almost over, a strange voice says.

And then comes the pain, which can’t be compared to anything Anna-Karin has ever known in her entire pain-filled existence. It’s like a blinding radioactive light that incinerates every thought, every feeling, every memory that is Rebecka – anything she’s ever been.

And then: ashes. Emptiness. A piece of blue sky way up there. A piece of blue sky that slowly gives way to darkness. Black ink slowly bleeds out and covers everything until the only thing left is that voice.

Forgive me.



Anna-Karin opens her eyes and looks straight into Ida’s. She sees her own panic reflected back at her. She realises they have just had the same experience. Ida lets go of Anna-Karin’s hand and backs away from her.

Anna-Karin looks around. Hundreds of pairs of eyes are staring at her. One of the extinguished candles from her crown is still rolling across the floor. Tommy Ekberg is still on his way over with the fire extinguisher.

Here, in reality, no time has passed at all.