The Circle (Hammer) - By Elfgren, Sara B.,Strandberg, Mats Page 0,17
asks.
That’s the third time he’s asked since he came home. ‘Okay,’ she answers briefly.
More than anything, she just feels incredibly tired and drained. She’s talked to her mother for a few hours, but she doesn’t know how she’s ‘feeling’. All she knows is that she’s too exhausted to think.
‘Are you going to write about it?’ she asks.
Her father scratches the bridge of his nose, making his glasses bob up and down. ‘We’ve discussed it. If the poor boy had killed himself at home, of course we wouldn’t. But as it happened at school … The whole town already knows about it.’
Her mother shakes her head. ‘You’ll be criticised for writing about it.’
‘We’ll be criticised if we don’t.’
Minoo’s father is the editor of a local newspaper. It only comes out a few times a week and mostly offers up exciting headlines like ‘New Traffic Circle Inaugurated on Gnejsgatan’. Three-quarters of the town’s house holds subscribe to the Engelsfors Herald. Everyone knows who Minoo’s father is.
‘Cissi has written an article,’ he continues. ‘I had to cut half of it, of course, get rid of all the gory details. You know what she’s like. But suicide is a sensitive topic, no matter how we tone it down.’
Minoo stares at her plate. She has barely touched her food and the meat sauce suddenly looks repulsive. ‘Are the police sure it was suicide?’ she asks.
‘There’s no doubt about it,’ her father answers. ‘But –and this stays between us, all right? Not a word about this to anyone at school?’
‘Of course not.’ Minoo sighs. She has never given him reason to doubt her ability to keep quiet. Minoo learned early on that most people collect information so that they can pass it on, but that the only way to get your hands on really interesting information is to be trustworthy.
‘Elias died yesterday some time after four thirty. He had just been to see the principal. He’d been missing school and the principal wanted to “nip it in the bud”, as she put it. They spoke for half an hour.’
It suddenly dawns on Minoo what Linnéa had meant when she accused the principal. What had happened at that meeting? ‘What did the principal have to say?’ she asks.
‘She’s shocked, of course.’
‘And she saw nothing to suggest he was suicidal?’ her mother asks.
‘Of course that’s the question that’ll be asked. Why didn’t she?’
‘Poor woman. She’s barely been there a year and this happens.’
‘Naturally the school’s responsibility is going to be aired. Especially since the way he did it seems to have been intended as a kind of message to the school itself.’
‘Erik,’ her mother says, ‘maybe you don’t want to remind Minoo of …’
‘That wasn’t my intention, for God’s sake,’ her father hisses.
‘Can’t we talk about something else?’ Minoo asks.
Her parents stare at her anxiously and exchange looks.
‘I can’t bear to listen to any more about Elias,’ she mumbles.
‘I understand,’ her mother says calmly.
While they finish their meal, they talk about cutbacks at the paper. Occasionally Minoo makes a comment. Yet she doesn’t remember a word of the conversation once dinner’s over.
Anna-Karin’s mother lights a cigarette while she’s still chewing her last mouthful, always eager to fill her lungs with nicotine and tar. The food is something she wants to get out of the way so she can have that delicious after-dinner smoke. Anna-Karin gave up complaining about it a long time ago. Her mother feels that cigarettes are the only luxury she allows herself, and that’s why she intends to ‘damn well smoke without feeling guilty about it’.
Rain is pelting the window. Puddles are forming in the garden in front of the house.
The potato salad and smoked pork loin swells in Anna-Karin’s mouth. It doesn’t feel like there’s room for anything in her stomach except stress. She tried to study for a while before dinner, but found herself reading the same paragraph over and over again.
She’s afraid she won’t be able to handle the natural sciences course. If she wants to become a vet, she’ll need top grades. She can’t fall behind so early in her first term of year eleven.
‘I had a phone call,’ Grandpa says, all of a sudden, and looks at Anna-Karin, ‘from Åke. His son works as a para medic. Åke was wondering how you were. If you knew the boy.’
‘What’s this?’ Mama asks, between puffs.
They stare at her. Might as well get it over with.
‘A boy died at school today. Elias. He killed himself.’