The Glitter Scene (8 page)

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Authors: Monika Fagerholm

Tags: #Mystery

BOOK: The Glitter Scene
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You think for example about the baroness—though these thoughts really start coming when the baroness and Eddie de Wire’s sisters, who came from America, have traveled back to the baroness’s winter home in the city by the sea.

You knew of course, everyone in the District had known, that the baroness and Eddie de Wire had not gotten along. “That girl is such a disappointment to me”: how the baroness herself had gone around saying it, increasingly irritated toward the end of the summer as well. And how even then rumors were spreading that the fact the baroness and Eddie de Wire were at each other’s throats was more than just the usual grudges that can arise between an adult and a teenager. But more serious things: for example that Eddie de Wire was said to have stolen things and money from the baroness, forged her signature on proxies, the like. And it had already been going on during the winter in the apartment in the city and the baroness had tried to send Eddie de Wire away during the winter in the city by the sea. But Eddie de Wire had quite simply refused, as if she was dead set on staying. “Where am I supposed to go then?” Played innocent and stupid when the baroness had driven her into a corner, tried to force her to leave.

And followed her to the summer residence as well. Where the baroness put her up, not in the house but in the boathouse. An existence that Eddie de Wire was dissatisfied with in the beginning but later found tolerable after all. And she found herself a boyfriend, of course, one boyfriend, maybe two. But you can also remind yourself about something else you heard the baroness say one time while Eddie de Wire was still alive. That after the summer the American girl would not be there anymore: the baroness had no plans whatsoever of taking Eddie de Wire with her to the winter residence.

And in that light, think about the fact that the baroness herself had also spent quite a lot of time at Bule
Marsh where Eddie de Wire had died. That she had a habit of going there almost every day for her morning swim. But that is to say—you have stopped yourself at the thought—morningswim? At Bule Marsh, in the middle of the woods? The baroness from the Glass House on the First Cape that is located by the sea: my goodness, why didn’t she swim
there
?

But you knew the answer to that too. A fact that is cast in a new light.

The twins. Rita, Solveig, from the cousin’s property. They were the ones she would meet at Bule Marsh, they were the reason she was there: the twins who were always at Bule Marsh—already early in the morning when ordinary, honest people were still in bed, asleep. In order to “train”? Were going to become
swimmers
, whatever
that
was? There was so much talk about a “talent for swimming,” which they were seen as having. How they had gone around bragging about it left and right as if they were saying it just to each other but loud and clear enough so everyone else would be sure to hear it too. About everything “that was required,” “all the sacrifices,” “training, training, training …”

Sure. This was added on silently in the District back then too, before everything. Who did they think they were? Ha-ha. Really, seriously,
nothing
to write home about exactly. That “cousin’s property,” for example, which they came from, what kind of a place was it anyway?

Now, in this context, you remind yourself of what you know about them, not much, but strange things. The terrible man, the “cousin’s papa” who won the property in a card game, the parents who died, dancers, circus
artists? And so, a memory that strikes down like lightning. Dance music coming from the open window, closed curtains.
Rumba tones
. A persistent, absorbing rhythm in the still, hot summer days around the house on the First Cape. The dancer, his wife, who were training for dance competitions on the salsafloor.

The rhythm, and the quiet children.
The three cursed ones
. And later, after the accident, sitting outside the house, the three children in a row. Tall kids who seemed so much older than they were, backs against the stone foundation.

Rumba tones, absorbing, as if they could still be heard around them.

That kind of inheritance, that kind of evil blood in the genes.

A shiver ran through you.
Those
children. The boy, who was friends and maybe more than friends with the American girl, and Rita, Solveig, the twins.

Back to Bule Marsh.
Those girls
with the baroness who did not get along with her young relative Eddie de Wire who died right there, at Bule Marsh.

Nothing you walk around saying out loud, you dismiss the thought as soon as you can. But still, difficult to get it out of your head once it has gotten in. And because all of it
cannot
be said out loud,
after all they are only children
, strengthens the feeling.

And so it becomes that much of that vagueness, the fear, the discomfort, the suspicions that were hanging in the air after the American girl’s death without a goal or a direction gather around the twins, unspoken. Rita, Solveig, exposed for a short while; the eyes of the District upon them, stolen looks.


And a circle of emptiness around them, which only Tobias does not care about at all and pushes his way through. Continues visiting the twins in their cottage, just like before. Encourages Rita and Solveig to focus on school: the world is large, is open to them, and so on. Everything that had also been said in the woods at Bule Marsh with the baroness—but that sounds different now. Pedagogically severe and square so to speak, yes, he certainly hears it. But someone has to say something, he cannot remain quiet. Do not throw away your talent: high school, college, university! Reminds them of their old nicknames, which existed before “the swimmers,” before everything. “The astronaut,” “the nuclear physicist.” Which were of course
also
what they were going to become … and the twins nod and start bickering a bit loose-limbed about who was going to be what, as they had a habit of doing during the time when they enjoyed teasing Tobias because even he did not want to admit that he also had a hard time telling them apart because they looked so much alike. “I AM the nuclear physicist, not Rita.” “No, me Rita.” An old jargon but without any energy in it: grown out of it, not very much fun anymore.

They do not talk about swimming, at all. Never again. Naturally unthinkable to continue training at Bule Marsh as if nothing had happened. But there are swimming pools, in the city by the sea for example where you can easily get to by bus, not to mention one in the next county over. And when it becomes summer again, other public beaches in the District.

“Shall we go and swim? Rita? We can bike.” Solveig will be heard nagging at Rita a few times. But Rita is
determined. Does not listen at all,
all of that
is over and done with.

So, what do you mean “swimmer”? Two ill-fitting swimsuits that are hanging, forgotten, on a clothing hook in the hall of the twins’ cottage under shirts, coats.

An old Lifeguard’s Medal that is hidden away in a desk drawer is forgotten. A reminiscence from another life.


So in the very beginning, it is like this, you cannot escape: Rita and Solveig on shining late summer days and in the fall that follows August of 1969. September that becomes October and the beginning of November. High blue skies, wild white clouds, and the play of colors when the leaves fall from the trees, the ground grows hard, the first snow.

Sitting on the steps of the twins’ cottage on the other side of the field, across from the cousin’s house.

Rita, Solveig, just the two of them while everything continues around them.

On the cousin’s property, for example, about three hundred feet in front of them on the other side of the field: the new girl in the cousin’s house, Doris Flinkenberg, she is jumping rope. Concentrated, persistent, does not look around, in the middle of her own personal game, as if she had personally discovered the art of jumping rope. And not just any old, rotten jump rope she is handling either, but a brand-spanking-new one, which the cousin’s mama has bought for her in a real store with her own money from cleaning houses that she has saved in a tin can in the cabinet in the kitchen. In addition to the glossy photos and the stationery of a kind that not only a small child like Doris Flinkenberg could be made happy with, printed with Keep-on-going-and-smile suns
at the top edge. Not to mention the radio cassette player, a real
radio cassette player
, which also suddenly appears at the house instead of the old transistor that belonged to Björn and had been broken into a thousand pieces.

Welcome-Doris-presents is what they are called. Gifts that are given to Doris Flinkenberg to make Doris happy, Doris who has had such a difficult time and has now finally gotten a real home. With the cousin’s mama, in the cousin’s house.
“Today I’ve gotten, and tomorrow I will get and get
 …” That is how Doris’s little song goes, the one she walks around humming during this time too.


Doris who is jumping rope a few hundred feet away.
“Stipplo.”
One of the twins says it, so that only the other one hears.
“Stipplo.”
But in the next moment how it actually happens: Doris on the cousin’s property, a desert away from them, trips over the rope, tangles her legs in it, falls flat on her stomach. Dump on the ground, she is not particularly graceful. And Doris, there where she is lying, looking around, a brief moment of astonished hesitation—as if she really did not know how she was going to deal with this unexpected mishap, with what kind of reaction. On the one hand: naturally just a trifle, what is tangling yourself in your jump rope compared to all of the horrible things you experienced in your early childhood in the Outer Marsh that fortunately for that matter is now over? On the other hand:
objectively
speaking it is
also
damn painful falling flat on your face, not to mention skinning your knees. But such a normal evil for a normal child can be blown away by a normal mother. And as if she was thinking just that, she casts a quick glance in the direction of the cousin’s house and
the kitchen window where the cousin’s mama can be found on the other side … and first then, how her face wrinkles and she starts crying at the top of her lungs.

“Maamaa!”

The cousin’s mama is out of the house in no time, running to Doris Flinkenberg, taking her in her arms. And then the scrapes on Doris’s knees are inspected by the cousin’s mama and Doris Flinkenberg together. Whereupon, cheeks ballooning,
puust
on the owie and soon Doris stops sobbing because it is so much fun and she starts puffing as well. And the cousin’s mama helps Doris to her feet and they disappear inside the house. To the kitchen, where a snack is being served and pop songs and crosswords are filled in family magazines and there is reading from
True Crimes
.

A funny little scene, of course, not even the twins on the steps on the other side of the field can resist smiling just a little.

“You said it.
Stipplo,”
Solveig establishes later. “And then it happened.”

“Nah, it was you,” says Rita.

“I heard you, Rita. Don’t even try.”

Rita suddenly gets angry. “Yes, but just imagine if you would shut up! IMAGINE if you would stop getting involved in things. It just gets screwed up!”

Tobias, within hearing distance, closes in with quick steps. Rita sees but does not stay and wait, gets up and leaves. Solveig gets up as well, shilly-shallies a brief moment as if standing between two fires but then follows after Rita. Waves to Tobias, “Be back soon.” Tobias waves, calls out something friendly, “See you,” then remains
standing at a loss before he slowly walks off in a different direction to return when the twins are back.

Tobias stands and watches: the twins heading up the steep path to the hill on the First Cape. To the house, the overgrown garden that will be tended by a family by the name of Backmansson who will eventually move in there. But still, a short while, a few years, a place for dreams, utopias … “They have a game, the Winter Garden,” the silver ball in the middle of the tall grass, overgrown rosebushes, reflecting light in the middle.

Rita first on the path, Solveig a little way behind. Rita who is in a hurry, Solveig trying to keep up with her.

Because also:
those children …
A shadow falls over them. Which Rita tries to escape, by breaking free of her sister, separating herself. Rita, suddenly, how she turns around and bellows, “I want to be alone. Do you
have
to follow me around all the time?”

Solveig flinches, stops. Rita who continues, upward, upward.

Still Solveig, she does not want to stay in the shadows either. Or shadow and shadow, maybe the grandiose just was not for her—because one difference among many, which starts presenting itself between the twins during this time as well, is that Solveig broods less, is maybe a bit slower but more here and now. But quite simply: does not want to be left behind, alone.

“Rita, wait!” And Rita still hears, regrets it. Waits for her sister and when Solveig has caught up with her the siblings walk the last bit like two friends, arms around each other.


“They have a game, the Winter Garden.” A game with its own language, like a separate world, a dreamworld, a utopia. With its own rules, its own language.
The hacienda must be built
.

Beautiful. But: it fades. Lacking the energy to maintain it, or force&resistance.
The cursed ones
. The eyes of others that become their eyes. Rita, Solveig frozen in time. Rumba tones, stone foundation, an unexplainable threat hanging in the air around them. Another story that is taking over all the time.

And yes, there comes Bengt. Who does not spend very much time with his siblings anymore, or at all, with anyone. Has started speaking again, but does not say very much—on the other hand, it was always like that. And soon, rather soon too, he will pretty much leave the sketch book altogether to become oneofthose teenagers for real. One with bags of beer, flower power cap on his head, to attract “women”—girls from the District and so on … who in some way will actually flock around him, for a while. But Bengt becomes stuck there, so to speak, the beer, et cetera … drifts here and there, one who comes and goes, things with him go to hell in a handbasket, he becomes nothing. And many years later, 1989, then he is around thirty-five, he is completely dried up, kaput. Comes “home,” to the cousin’s property and ends things. Also there, in that cursed cousin’s house. Maybe a logical fate—

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