"I'm so sorry," I said. "I'm so, so sorry."
"Well, you didn't do this to me, so I don't see why you should be sorry?" he said, trying hard to smile.
I felt so confused. Maybe it was just my hormones, but my emotions were going berserk. I was wondering if I should tell him, just blurt it out, but stopped myself. What if the child wasn't his? What if it was Peter's? That would only make things worse between us, it would kill him to know I was going to have a child with someone else.
"I'll be fine," Sune said.
I leaned over and kissed his forehead while a tear escaped the corner of my eye. "I was so scared I'd lose you," I whispered.
"Nah. You won't get rid of me that easily. Huh buddy?" He said, addressed to Tobias. "I'm like the weed in the yard."
I chuckled and studied his pale face. There were so many things I wanted to say to him and so many things I wanted to ask him, but I could tell he was exhausted.
"You need your rest," I said and kissed his forehead again. "I'll take Tobias down to the cafeteria and get him something to eat. What do you say, buddy? Maybe they'll have some ice cream for dessert?"
Tobias jumped down from the bed. As we were about to walk out of the room, he stopped and looked at his dad. "Will you be alright while we're gone, Daddy?"
Sune forced a smile, but he was already halfway asleep.
"He'll be fine," I said and grabbed Tobias' hand in mine.
Tobias didn't eat much of the food I bought for us and neither did I. Even the ice cream didn't taste right. Tobias kept turning his spoon in it.
"Better eat it before it melts," I said.
"He will be alright, won't he?" He suddenly asked.
"Yes, sweetie. He will. I know he will. These doctors are really skilled. They know how to take good care of your daddy. Don't you worry about that. I was thinking you might want to go with me back to the island tonight and maybe sleep in Julie's room with her?"
Tobias' eyes grew big and wide. "Really? We could do that?"
"We most certainly could and we will," I said and finished my soda. "Julie is going to be so excited to see you again. She has missed you a lot."
"And I've missed her. But what about dad? Will he be alright all alone?" Tobias asked.
"He is going to be just fine. He needs a lot of sleep and tomorrow he'll be feeling much better. Just you wait and see."
43
August 2012
Henrik Fenger asked for another beer. The bartender took his glass and poured him one.
"And a whiskey," he said.
The bartender nodded, then gave him his drinks. Henrik looked at the foam on the beer and felt a pinch of sadness in his heart. He had no idea where to go. He couldn't go home to Roskilde since he was certain his wife wouldn't have anything to do with him and, frankly, he didn't want to go back anymore. Everything had changed the last couple of days. He had changed and there was no turning back anymore. Killing the two girls had left him excited, but not quite as satisfied as he wanted. He didn't understand what it was that was missing. He had gotten his revenge like he wanted, but still it left him unfulfilled somehow.
What was it that was missing? He wondered while gulping down the third whiskey since he entered the bar on the corner of the building where he had killed Barbara Rasmussen only a few hours earlier.
It dawned on him when he put the glass down and moved on to the beer. He wanted to keep the buzz going all day. That was his plan so far. But he realized that he didn't feel as satisfied as he wanted to because he didn't feel like he had gotten the real bad guys. Killing the girls was fine, since they were both accomplices, but he knew now that there was no way they could have been alone on this. They had to have someone helping them, arranging it, maybe even planning it for them. Henrik sensed there had to be some kind of brains behind this, a leader somewhere behind all these attacks on innocent men. Some big fat woman who hated men and all they stood for.
Probably a dyke. A big fat ugly lesbo whom no man would ever touch.
Henrik turned the tall, slim beer glass between his fingers, wondering how he should get to the bottom of this, how he should find this fat leader who was pulling the strings on these girls and making them attack men, poisoning beautiful women into hating men.
Henrik lifted the glass and drank when he felt like he was being watched. He turned his head slowly and looked to his right side where a man was sitting in one of the booths. The man was grinning from ear to ear and very obviously staring at Henrik.
Henrik turned his head away and ordered another round of beer and whiskey, not paying any more attention to the strange man. These kinds of places often attracted some weirdos, especially at this hour of day. Henrik figured he was probably like a stray dog. If you ignore it, it'll go away.
The bartender gave Henrik a new round and he was about to drink the whiskey when a voice interrupted him. He turned his head with an annoyed sigh and saw the man from the booth was now sitting next to him at the bar.
"How was it?" The man asked.
Henrik shook his head. The man seemed even weirder up close. Couldn't he see Henrik wanted to be alone? "How was what?"
The man grinned again, then leaned closer. Henrik didn't want him this close and tried to lean in the other direction.
"The kill," the man whispered.
Henrik stared at the man. Who the hell does he think he is, talking to me like that?
"What are you talking about old man? I'm trying to enjoy a drink here. I'm really not looking for company."
As if he hadn't heard what Henrik said, the man leaned even closer. Then he sniffed Henrik. "I can still smell the scent of adrenalin on your skin. It's still fresh. How long has it been? A couple of hours since you killed her?"
"You're insane, do you know that?" Henrik said and drank from his whiskey, trying to ignore the strange man next to him.
"In that case, that makes two of us, then. We have a lot in common you and I. Who was she?"
"Who was who?" Henrik was getting really annoyed with this man and wondered if he should just get up and leave.
"The girl you killed."
Henrik almost choked on his whiskey. He looked at the man who was still grinning widely. "How do you know it was a girl?"
The man shrugged. "Just a lucky guess. Most men start out killing girls because they're an easier prey. I still kill only girls, but that's because I get a kick out of the power I posses over them. It never gets old."
Henrik looked in the direction of the bartender to make sure he couldn't hear what they were talking about, then lowered his voice even further. "How did you know?"
"I can smell it from far away. I can always spot a killer in a crowd. Especially one who is new to it and has just killed. It's written all over your face. Takes one to know one."
"So you … you're?"
"You got it. I spotted you from far away once you walked in here. I could see it in the look in your eyes, the way you moved, your hands were still shaking from the thrill."
"Well this girl had it coming. I was doing it for someone else, someone who couldn't defend himself, since the girl had killed him."
"Ah a hero, are we?" The man's voice became shrill.
"I don't know what I am," Henrik said.
"But I know," the man said. His voice whistled when he spoke. "You're a killer. Just like me."
"I'm nothing like you. I seek revenge. It's different."
"Oh the motive might be different, but you enjoyed it, didn't you? You liked to see the fear in their eyes, didn't you? That makes you no different than me. Besides you want to kill again. I can tell."
Henrik growled. Who was this strange man?
"You're new to it, I get it," the man continued. "You still tell yourself that you do it for a noble cause. But, take it from someone who has been in this for many years, you are not going to stop here. You're hooked. I see it in your eyes. You will be looking for that same feeling you felt when you did your first kill for the rest of your life. You w
ill be longing for it at night. You'll wander the streets at night seeking for it, lusting to feel it again. Believe me. I know about these things. If you stick with me I might teach you a thing or two."
Henrik looked at the man again now with a new set of eyes. Not because he suddenly liked the guy or because he really felt a kinship with him. No, but because he suddenly realized the man was right. Henrik had enjoyed killing the two girls and he did want to kill more. He wanted to kill all the women who were a part of this feminist group taking men's internal organs. He wanted to find the leader, the freaking dyke behind it all. And now he realized this strange man might be able to help him.
Henrik reached out his hand. "Henrik Fenger," he said.
The man shook his head. "No, No. Rule number one. You never give anyone your real name. Especially not someone like me. You come up with a name. Like me, I'm Karl Persson, how do you do?" He said and shook Henrik's hand.
"Make up a name, huh? Like what?" Henrik asked.
"My name belongs to a famous artist, a painter who is known worldwide for painting some very gruesome and vulgar pictures … some of them even have strong cannibalistic motives. I chose him because I see myself as an artist. Even if my art is never for anyone else to see or understand."
"I see," Henrik said. "So I could be like Dali or da Vinci?"
"Yeah, sure. Whatever you like."
Henrik nodded and finished his whiskey. "So tell me, are there more of your kind out there?"
44
June 2011
It started just as summer hit the country. At first it was nothing but a small insignificant cough, but then Valdemar lost his appetite.
In the beginning, Anna wasn't too worried since the boy never had eaten much and he didn't seem to grow much either. He was a handsome boy even if he was short and skinny, but suddenly, he started losing weight and that worried his mother.
One day he came down the stairs for breakfast as usual and his pants just slid right off him while he was walking. Anna almost dropped the pan with the scrambled eggs.
"What's going on with you lately?" she asked and helped pull up his pants before she served his breakfast.
Valdemar shrugged. He put his fork into the egg but only to push it around on the plate. Anna looked at him with worried eyes. Even his face had gotten skinnier.
"I think we should go and see doctor Kristensen," Anna said, as she ate her food.
"Do we have to?" Valdemar said.
"I think we need to. You're not eating and you're coughing a lot. Maybe you have a light pneumonia or something. You don't seem to have a fever, but still, there is something going on. What do I know? You'll have to stay home from school today."
Valdemar smiled from ear to ear. Anna shook her head. "That doesn't mean you're not doing the work they did today. When we get back you'll call someone from your class and make sure you get all the work done that you missed today."
"Still a day off to me," Valdemar said. "It takes me ten minutes to do a day's school work. You know that."
Anna chuckled. "That's true."
"Plus, I'll have time to work on my game," Valdemar said.
"Game? What kind of game?"
"I’ve started developing a new computer game. It's pretty neat, if I say so myself. It's this world of blocks where you build your own house, or castle if you like and animals and stuff."
Anna smiled again. He always had something going on, the boy. He is not sick. He seems fine. Maybe he just needs a day off.
"I call it Mindskill," he said, smiling even wider than before.
"Sounds really great, honey," Anna said without really listening. Her head was filled with worried thoughts. "I'll call the doctor right away and schedule an appointment."
A week later, Anna was called into the doctor's office again. Doctor Kristensen was sitting behind his desk looking like he was the one who needed a vacation, Anna thought.
"Valdemar is not well, Mrs. Kragh," he said.
"What do you mean, he's not well? He is doing much better now. The cough is getting better and yesterday he ate almost an entire burger. I think he is definitely improving."
"He might be, but not for long," the doctor said. "He'll soon start to go downhill fast."
Anna's heart stopped. "What do you mean go downhill?"
"Your son has Cystic Fibrosis. I don't know why we haven't caught this earlier, but he hasn't shown any symptoms up until now. I mean we both knew he wasn't growing much, but I figured it would kick in eventually."
"Cystic Fibrosis? What is that exactly?" Anna asked with a shivering voice.
"It's a lung disease. Actually a disease of the mucus and sweat glands. It affects mostly your lungs, pancreas, liver, intestines, sinuses and sex organs. It causes your mucus to be thick and sticky. The mucus clogs the lungs, causing breathing problems and making it easy for bacteria to grow. This can lead to problems such as repeated lung infections and lung damage."
"But what does this mean? How bad is it?"
Doctor Kristensen exhaled. "It's bad. In Valdemar's case, the disease has developed faster than usual. His lungs are heavily affected by this and I'm not sure how long he has left."
"How long he has left? What are you saying doctor? Is he … will he … die?"
The doctor exhaled deeply. "If he doesn't have a lung transplant within the next six months, I'm afraid so. Usually the patients might live till they're in their thirties, but not the way it is progressing in Valdemar. I'm sorry Mrs. Kragh."
"A lung transplant?" Anna asked. "How does that work?
"Well, we will get him on a list right away, but lungs are not that easy to get. A lot of people are waiting for them right now, so the list is long and the donors few."
"What about me? Can I give him my lung?" Anna asked.
"You could. But not alone. Living lung donation requires two donors. One person giving one lobe, or a portion of their left lung, and the other giving a lobe of their right lung. The two lobes are transplanted into a single recipient. The donors' lungs must be the appropriate size and volume."
"So if I could find a second donor, we could save him?"
"Well there is always a risk of him rejecting the transplant, but it is the only thing that would be able to save him, yes. But you'd have to find one fast since Valdemar will only get weaker as the days pass by and he will need all his strength to be able to fight possible infections associated with the transplant."
Anna's mind was spinning with thoughts as she wondered who could make a possible donor for Valdemar.
"What about the father?" Doctor Kristensen asked. "Would he be willing?"
45
August 2012
The kids were ecstatic. Tobias slept in Julie's room and the next morning, they both got out of bed and went downstairs to play on Julie's iPad without waking up anyone else in the house.
Peter was less excited about the whole thing. He barely spoke a word to me the night before and, in the morning, I heard him leave the bedroom without a word to me. I felt bad. No that's an understatement. I felt horrible. I felt like the worst scum on earth. I knew Peter was mad because I was more concerned about Sune than about him and our failing relationship. Because I worried more about Sune than about keeping my family intact. I knew that was how he felt. But it just wasn't that easy for me. I cared about Sune and I had to try and help him out. I loved Tobias and couldn't have just left him at the hospital.
I got out of bed and took a shower before I went downstairs. When I was done, I walked back to the bedroom and picked up my phone. Someone had left a message. I called my voice mail and listened to it. It was Jens-Ole.
"Hi Rebekka. I know you guys are busy and I realize it might be quite insensitive given Sune's situation, but I wanted to let you know that the organ thieves have struck again, in case you hadn't heard. This time it was another woman in her apartment in Hasle. That makes it five cases in total these thieves have on their consciences. Three deaths and two survivors. Just wanted to fill you
in. Let me know how you're doing and tell Sune we miss him."
I hung up and sat on the bed. Another woman in her apartment? What kinds of animals were these bastards?
I got dressed and walked downstairs where Tobias and Julie were laughing and playing on the iPad. "Mindskill again, huh?"
"Yeah, Tobias loves it too, Mommy. He knows how to get into a mode with dragons and butterflies and everything. And he knows cheat codes."
"He does? Wow." I said and walked into the kitchen. Peter was sitting in there all by himself eating toast with cheese.
I pulled out a chair next to him and sat down. "Is this how it's gonna be, Peter? You not talking to me?"
He sighed and wiped his mouth on a napkin. "I don't get it Rebekka. You come here to be with your family and then you're hardly with us."
"I can't help it that organ thieves are killing people and hurting one of my best friends and co-worker, can I?"
"I guess not. I just really wish Julie and I were higher up on your list of priorities."
I poured myself some coffee from the pot and sipped the cup. I didn't know what to say to him. To be honest, all I could think of was Sune and how he was doing.
"You're going to see him at the hospital today, aren't you?" Peter asked.
I sighed. "Yes, Peter. I am. He's seriously hurt. I'll take the kids with me. Tobias needs to see his dad and Julie wants to be with Tobias. Look I'm trying my best here to please everybody."
"And you're doing a really good job," Peter said and smiled sarcastically. "You're making everyone happy except for me."
I closed my eyes. "Sometimes it's just not about you, Peter. Sometimes it's about people who have been hurt, people who were almost killed."
"People like Sune. Like your ex-boyfriend." Peter took another bite of his toast. It crunched between his teeth. The sound annoyed me just like he annoyed me immensely right now.
"Yes, I care about him still. Is that what you want to hear? Yes I still love him. There you go. Are you happy?"
Peter's face changed drastically. He got up from his chair.