I Am Behind You (33 page)

*

‘Why are you so scared, Daddy?'

The white figure has vanished from view through the rear window
when another appears on the field in front of them. It looks exactly like the first one, except that it is moving faster, as if it is in a hurry. Without realising it, Stefan has locked his hands together and tensed his whole body.

‘Look, Daddy, it's just…it's just
another one
.'

Stefan and Emil have spent the last fifteen minutes talking. Emil has told Stefan about Darth Vader and the elephant; he has explained that the white figures can change, that none of it is real. Stefan has told Emil about what happened when he was six years old, about his new bike and the incident in the lake. He was worried that the story might frighten Emil, but just like Stefan back then, Emil was mainly interested in what happened to the bike.

They have talked and talked, comparing their experiences. However, Stefan is far from convinced, because when the second figure appears, the childish terror returns immediately. But with Emil's last comment, something happens.

It's just another one.

The significance of that remark hits home. The white figure is not the only one of its kind; it is not an ever-present signpost to the kingdom of the dead, or some evil divinity able to manifest itself to people when life is about to leave them. It is just one of two, of three, of many. Stefan looks at Emil, spreads his hands wide and puts it as simply as possible: ‘It's just…a white figure!'

‘Mmm,' Emil says. ‘Or a stormtrooper.'

‘Is that what you can see?'

‘Mmm. It's not right, though. It hasn't got a lightsaber. Stormtroopers always carry a lightsaber.'

‘But you're not scared of stormtroopers, are you?'

‘No. I'm scared of Darth Vader, but he wasn't right either. It's strange, isn't it, Daddy?'

‘Very strange indeed.'

They sit together, watching as the white figure veers to one side to avoid bumping into the car.

Like reindeer in Norrland. Like rabbits on the island of Gotland.
They're just here.

‘Emil,' Stefan says. ‘You're the cleverest little boy in the world, did you know that?'

Emil gives a modest shrug and Stefan is overwhelmed by a love so strong that it hurts his chest. He wants to pull Emil close and kiss his head, but he knows that the gesture would be more pleasurable for him than for his son, so instead he decides that it's time.

‘I've got something for you,' he says, opening the glove compartment and taking out a small padded envelope, which he gives to Emil.

Emil's favourite Star Wars character is Darth Maul, the demonic figure who wields his dual-blade lightsaber like a taekwondo staff. It hasn't been easy to get hold of the Lego version, but by searching on an online auction site Stefan has managed to track down two different models, and has paid approximately five times as much as they cost to begin with. Darth Maul is very popular.

Stefan had intended to wait until Emil's birthday, or at least his name day, but he has to do something for his son right now, he just has to.

Emil's delight when he sees what is in the envelope is out of all proportion to the two tiny figures. He holds them up, his eyes sparkling.

‘Wow!' he says. ‘Wow! Two
different
ones!'

‘That's right. Those are the only two that exist.'

‘I know that. Wow! Thank you, Daddy!'

Emil clicks the lightsabers into place and makes the two figures have a little fight. ‘The battle of the century! Darth Maul versus his twin brother!'

‘Darth Miaow?' Stefan suggests, which makes Emil flop back in his seat, helpless with laughter.

‘Darth Miaow! His mother was a cat!'

A stone has fallen from Stefan's chest, a great weight has been lifted from his back. For the first time since he woke up this morning he feels as if he can breathe properly.
We got here somehow. Somehow we can get away from here.
He reaches for the key, ready to turn the
car around, but before he can start the engine Emil asks: ‘Daddy, do you think other worlds exist?'

‘You mean on other planets, that kind of thing?'

‘No.'

‘So what do you mean?'

Emil pulls a face and blows through his nose as he waves the two Lego figures. ‘I mean, like, sort of…'

‘Do you mean other worlds
inside
our own world?'

‘Yes. Or outside it. No, that's not what I mean. It's…oooooh!' Emil bangs his head with his wrists, frustrated at his inability to explain.

Stefan grips his slender arms. ‘Calm down, Emil.'

Emil pulls away, stares at both Darth Mauls for a few seconds, then says: ‘It's
the same
as ours. But different.'

‘What do you mean by
the same
?'

Emil shakes his head. ‘I can't explain.'

Stefan waits as Emil walks the figures to and fro across his thighs. It's obvious that he is still thinking, that in spite of his last remark he is trying to find the right words. After a couple of minutes Stefan looks out through the windscreen and sees yet another white figure approaching in the distance. He checks the side windows: nothing.

Why do they all come from the same direction?

No, that's not true. The first time he and Emil went out in the car, they went in precisely the opposite direction, and that was also where the white figure he saw when he was on the caravan roof came from. So they don't all come from the same direction, but they are all following the same
line
.

Emil removes the lightsabers and puts everything in his breast pocket before buttoning it carefully. Then he says: ‘We can kind of decide what's real.'

‘I don't understand.'

‘No,' Emil says, stroking his pocket. ‘Neither do I. Can we go home now?'

*

Home…

It's amazing how quickly we adapt. As soon as he spots the caravans, Stefan experiences a little of the relief that is always part of coming home, of knowing that we can switch off from the tension involved in transactions in the outside world. The relief is even greater when he sees the Toyota. Carina is back, and without her the concept of ‘home' has no real meaning.

The two white figures he has already seen are standing in the middle of the camp along with two others who must have come from the opposite direction, if his theory is correct. They are all facing one another, apparently deep in conversation.

Stefan drives slowly, heading for his caravan. There is no sign of anyone apart from the white figures, who slowly turn their heads to look at him.

Even if ‘the white figure' is no longer a single entity, and has therefore lost something of its dramatic impact, it can't be denied: there is still something ghostly about that silent contemplation, those expressionless faces.

Stefan is ten metres away from the group when Isabelle comes flying out of her caravan with a knife in one hand. Stefan automatically brakes and covers Emil's eyes, because Isabelle is obviously heading for the figures, intent on harming them.
Why
is a question for later, but he doesn't want Emil to see.

‘Stop it, Daddy!' Emil says, trying to twist free.

‘Sweetheart, I don't want you to see…'

When Isabelle reaches the white figures, she falls to her knees in front of them.

‘…this.'

What is she doing?

Isabelle is slightly obscured by the figures, and it is only when she holds up one arm that Stefan understands. Blood is pouring from two long, diagonal gashes running from wrist to elbow. As Stefan looks on, Isabelle begins to slash at the other arm.

He lets go of Emil, and as he opens the door he says: ‘Close your
eyes, Emil! Don't look!' He gets out of the car and sees that Lennart and Olof have also realised what is going on. But they are too far away, and as Stefan runs towards Isabelle, she brings the knife up to her throat.

‘Isabelle!' he shouts. ‘No!'

His cry makes her stop in mid-movement and look at him. Her face is swollen, and there is not a trace of sanity in her wide, staring eyes. Her face contorts in a horrible smile as she tips her head to one side to give her better access to the jugular vein. Stefan hurls himself at her with his arms outstretched, knocking her over before she has time to carry out her plan.

Blood spurts over his shirt, his face, as Isabelle's arms flail wildly; the deep gashes in her arms have opened up several arteries, which continue to pump out their contents in a steady stream. Stefan screams when Isabelle manages to stab him in the right shoulder; a second later the knife is wrenched from her hand.

‘What the hell are you doing?' Lennart says, tossing the knife aside. ‘Have you gone completely mad?'

Stefan's shoulder is throbbing, a red stain is spreading on his shirt, and yet another thing can be added to the list of things he could never have imagined.

Stabbed. I've been stabbed.

All at once Isabelle goes limp. Her bleeding arms flop to the ground, and she lies there staring up at the sky with empty eyes. Pain radiates outwards from Stefan's shoulder, and he can no longer feel the fingers of his right hand. From somewhere he hears Majvor's voice: ‘Does anyone have any bandages?'

Together Olof and Lennart lift Isabelle and carry her towards their caravan, her arms leaving a trail of blood on the grass. Majvor follows them.

Stefan touches the wound with his left hand and his fingers come away sticky with blood. He swallows and closes his eyes, opens them again. Blood, blood, there is blood everywhere.

*

Emil didn't close his eyes. He saw the four stormtroopers, who no longer look like stormtroopers because their armour and weapons are slowly fading away, he saw Daddy jump on Molly's mum to stop her from cutting herself. When Daddy got stabbed Emil wanted to get out of the car, but he was too scared. He might get stabbed too, so he tucked his hands between his legs and carried on watching.

Things got a bit better when one of the farmers took away the knife, but Molly's mum is covered in blood, and Daddy is bleeding too. It's really horrible, all this blood. The worst thing Emil has seen in a film was when Darth Vader chopped off Luke Skywalker's hand, but there wasn't any blood. Emil has never thought about it before, but there should have been lots of blood! The grass where Molly's mum was lying is covered in the stuff, litres of it, and she's still bleeding as they carry her away.

But here comes Mummy! She runs over to Daddy, and is horrified when she sees the blood. She gives him a big hug and Emil feels a little calmer, but still he doesn't move. He wants them to come and get him, pick him up and give him a cuddle, because he's terrified.

Then the stormtroopers do something Emil has never seen real stormtroopers do. All four of them get down on their knees at the same time, then they lie down. Emil leans closer to the windscreen so that he can see more clearly. They are lying exactly where Molly's mum was, in all that blood—they must be crazy.

Then something happens to their armour. Emil can't see properly, and he daren't get out of the car, so instead he reaches into the back seat for the binoculars. He adjusts the focus until he achieves perfect clarity.

The whiteness which is a mixture of armour and skin now looks as if someone has drawn faint, uneven lines all over it with a pencil. All four of them are covered in a network of red lines.

Emil lowers the binoculars and sees Molly, who is standing outside her caravan staring at the four figures lying on the grass. She
doesn't appear to be the least bit frightened. Her expression suggests that she is trying hard to work something out. As if she suddenly becomes aware of Emil, she raises her head and looks him in the eye. She ought to be really upset about her mum, but she doesn't look upset at all. Just focused. She waves to Emil.

Although it feels weird, he waves back. Then Molly smiles. But Emil can't do that. No way.

*

When Donald set off to meet the Bloodman, he felt invincible. The lone cowboy heading off across the prairie to confront his enemy. The endless expanse, the shotgun in his hand, and
John Brown's body lies a-mouldering in the grave, but his soul goes marching on.

Donald isn't much of a one for hunting; he lacks the necessary patience. Give him a few hours lying in wait for elk, and he begins to understand why there are so many hunting accidents. You just want to shoot something, any fucking thing. The third time he went out he eventually shot a squirrel. All that was left of the little creature was a few shreds of flesh, and Donald got a real telling off from the leader of the hunting association. In fact he had only applied for a licence so that he could own a gun, because the concept of guns appeals to Donald.

Donald and Majvor had visited Graceland a few years earlier, and one of the highlights was Elvis's extensive collection of weapons. The revolvers and pistols were rather too ornate, embellished in a style more suited to Liberace than the King, but there was also a display case filled with impressive rifles and shotguns and an assault rifle. Donald spent a long time in front of that particular case.

There is something about the idea of being
armed
. The potentially lethal object in your hands, under your control. The finger on the trigger, yes or no, and the revolutionary changes that decision can bring about. To have that power. A gun is more than a composite of wood and metal; it is a way of becoming master of your own destiny.

These were Donald's thoughts as he moved across the field, whistling ‘John Brown's Body'. He was finally on the way to making himself the master of his own destiny. Whether this was a dream or not, the gun felt pretty real in his grasp.

After a while the feeling began to fade. The Bloodman was further away than he could have imagined, and on top of everything else he was moving away from Donald in a diagonal line. Donald was definitely gaining on him, but it was a slow process, and his bad knees and general lack of fitness were beginning to make themselves felt.