Nine, Ten ... Never Sleep Again (2 page)

BOOK: Nine, Ten ... Never Sleep Again
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2
January
1995

When Valdemar
was born,
his mother knew right away that something
was wrong. The nurses and doctors wouldn't give him to her and kept turning
their backs on her, talking amongst themselves, shaking their heads.

"What's wrong?" Anna asked with a
shivering voice. "Why can't I see him? Why won't you give him to me?"

Finally, a doctor turned and gazed at her. His
face looked grave and she embraced herself for what he was going to say. Anna
could hear the boy cry, so he was alive, that wasn't it, he wasn't born dead.
What else could it be that was so terrible that they wouldn't tell her? That
they would keep the child away from her? The same child she had been waiting
for for so long, wanting so desperately to finally hold in her arms, and then
couldn't. Why? Anna simply didn't understand. As the doctor looked at her with
his serious eyes, she felt her heart rate go up.

Just say it, for crying out
loud.

"There is something that you need to
know," the doctor started.

"What's wrong? Is he sick?" Anna
asked.

The doctor avoided her eyes. His mouth turned
down. "You could say that, but it's not … well it's a little
different."

"What is it? Just say it." Anna said,
her voice creaking in desperation.

"Well it seems that your boy has ... an
abnormality."

"What kind of abnormality?"

"Well, it seems that he … he is missing
both of his arms."

Anna fell backwards in the hospital bed. She
felt confused. Dumbfounded even.  "He's what? What do you mean he is
missing his arms?"

"I mean that he was born without arms. We
really don't understand why the sonograms failed to reveal these
complications."

Anna stared at the doctor with disbelief. She
tried really hard, but still couldn't understand what he was saying. How could
the baby have no arms?

"I … I … I don't …"

How will he eat? How will he
get by? Will the arms grow out eventually?
She had so
many questions at that particular moment, but couldn't get the words across her
lips.
How are we going to do this? What will
Michael say?

"The father is in the waiting room still, I
assume?" the doctor asked.

Anna nodded. A nurse turned to look at her.
"Are you ready to see him?" she asked. In her eyes, Anna saw nothing
but pity for Anna's situation. Anna didn't care much for that. It made her feel
pitiful. And you're not supposed to feel pitiful when you've just given birth
to a child, are you? It was supposed to be a time of joy for her and her
husband, a time of blessed happiness, wasn't it?

Anna looked at the nurse skeptically. Did she
really want to see him? Did she really want this crippled child who could never
do anything on his own?

She thought about saying no. For just a short
second, she wondered if she could get out of here, get out of this nightmare
somehow, maybe if she just jumped out of the bed and started running now? What
would happen if she simply left?

"Here he is," the nurse said and
handed her a small bundle before Anna could make her decision.

The bundle was so light, so small she was afraid
to break what was in it. Anna felt tears press from behind her eyes and tried
hard to force them back, just as the baby opened his eyes and looked at her. In
that instant Anna knew her life
was
really changed forever and would never be the same again. Tears rolled across
her cheeks as she stroked the boy on the head. Never in her life had she ever
seen anything like this boy; never in her life had she felt anything like what
she felt at that instant. Looking into those very blue eyes of his changed
everything.

Arms or no arms, Anna was in love.

3
August
2012

When Henrik
Fenger opened
his eyes he didn't remember where he
was. He blinked a couple of times to focus better. The light in the bathroom
felt very bright.

The bathroom? What am I doing
in the bathroom? Last night? What happened last night? There was someone in
here. There was someone in the bathroom?

Henrik felt suddenly anxious and turned his head
to look around him. He realized he was sitting in the bathtub. What was he
doing in the bathtub? Had he been sleeping in there? Why? Henrik felt suddenly
so thirsty, like he hadn't had anything to drink for days. His tongue was dry
and felt sticky inside his mouth. He was groggy, his thoughts clouded, and he
could hardly focus. Suddenly, he realized he was very cold and looked down only
to discover that his body was covered in ice, all the way up to his chest.

Where the hell did all this ice come from? A
bucket next to the bathtub gave him a clue. The ice had to come from the
machine in the hallway outside. But why? Why would anyone sink him into ice?
Henrik now remembered the needle the person had held in their hand and injected
into his arm. It was still sore and there was a small mark from where it had
gone through the skin. What had been in that needle? Henrik felt so groggy and
had to fight to stay awake. He felt confused. It was so hard to figure out what
was going on. Just moving his arm to pull it above the ice took a lot of work.
It was just like the time when he had his appendix removed and he had to be put
under anesthesia. The waking up was so hard. All he wanted was to go back to
sleep. Getting back to reality felt like being punched in the face.

Henrik groaned and tried to move his body
underneath the ice, but it was difficult.
You
need to get up from this cold ice or you'll freeze to death.
Move your body. Come on, Henrik. Just do it.

Henrik blinked his eyes and looked up when he
spotted something on the white wall in front of him. He blinked again to be
able to focus better and soon he realized it was a note. It was taped to the
wall. It wasn't hard for him to read it. In big letters it simply said:

DON'T MOVE. CALL 112.

Henrik blinked again trying hard to figure out
what this was all about. Was it a dream? Some weird psychedelic nightmare? It
had to be. It simply had to be. Had the person drugged him and that was why he
was dreaming this strange dream?

Henrik shook his head. It was hurting badly now.

No, this is no dream. This is
real. This is very real.

Henrik turned his head and spotted a small table
that had been placed next to the bathtub with his cellphone on top of it.
Something felt weird, he thought to himself. Something was different when he
tried to move, to turn his torso. The ice numbed it, but it still hurt. Henrik
was struck by a strange feeling and reached back his hand to try and touch his
back. He pressed his hand slowly and carefully through the ice.

Something is really wrong here
.

Henrik didn't dare to touch it anymore. He
pulled his hand back with a gasp. Carefully he reached for the phone and dialed
the emergency number, 112.

"What's your emergency?" the lady
asked.

Henrik felt his heart beat faster and had to
focus in order to not lose consciousness. "I … I think something bad
happened to me. Please send an ambulance."

"What happened to you sir?"

Henrik moaned. The pain in his back was getting
worse by the second now. The anesthesia was wearing off and the ice didn't do
much to help him anymore. The realization of what had happened to him was
slowly sinking in and it hurt more than anything.

"Sir? Are you still there? What's your
emergency? Sir? Can you speak? Are you still there?"

"Yes," he said with drops of sweat
springing from his forehead, sweat from excruciating pain. "Yes. I'm
here."

"I'm sending an ambulance right away.
What's happened?" the woman asked again.

Henrik moaned heavily while seeing black spots
in front of his eyes.

"I … I think … someone removed something
from inside of me."

4
August
2012

"Do you like it?"

Peter looked at me as he opened the gate to the
driveway. In front of us rose the enormous white house. It was beautiful.

"Love it," I answered. We walked
towards the house with our bags. "Why is there a driveway if you can only
get here by boat?" I asked.

"The lake is not very deep on this side
towards the land. Sometimes in the summer when the water level is low, you can
drive here. You need an SUV, since it gets really muddy. I've done it a couple
of times."

"Yeah, we did it together, me and daddy
when we were here last time," Julie said and ran ahead of us towards the
main entrance of the house.

"Oh you did, now did you?" I said, a
little dissatisfied that I hadn't heard about this before.

Peter led us to the courtyard. A broad set of
stairs led to the front entrance, a massive old wooden door. It was stunning.
Everything about this place was stunning. Magnificent, even. I had never been
in a place like this before.

Peter found the keys and opened the door for us.
"Ladies first," he said with a smirk.

Julie stormed inside and I followed her. If it
was splendid from the outside it was nothing compared to what it was on the
inside. It was simply breathtaking. The high ceilings that seemed endless, the
marble floors, the paintings on the walls as big as Julie, the stairwell
leading upstairs, the many hallways leading to unknown places. It was
incredible.

I looked at Peter. "You'd better show the
way," I said. "I don't want to get lost in this massive house."

Peter chuckled, then walked towards the stairs.
We followed him. "Julie and I stayed in two rooms up here the last time.
They were great, weren't they sweetheart?"

Julie nodded eagerly.

"How many rooms are there?" I asked.

"Fifty-two without the servants’ quarters in
the back."

"You're kidding me, right?"

Peter laughed. "Of course I am. It's only
forty-eight if you don't count the servants’ quarters in the back."

"Very funny."

Peter laughed. "It's true. I'm not
lying."

"That's a lot of rooms. How old is
it?" I asked.

"It's very old. It was built by a bishop
many years ago, in 1302. During the reformation, in 1536, it was taken over by
the king who used it as a prison. It has been told that a famous Scottish Earl
was put in this prison and went insane. He killed himself in here. They say
that at night you can still hear the horse driven carriage that carried his
body away, but I've never heard it. Later it became a mental institution for a
short period from 1840 to1857. My great-grandfather bought it in 1901 when it had
been empty for a couple of years. He completely restored it back to its old
splendor when it used to be a Renaissance castle in the beginning." Peter
walked down the hallway and stopped in front of a door. "This is Julie's
room," he said. "This is where she slept the last time we were
here."

"Yay," Julie said and opened the door
to her room. I peeked in. It looked like a nice big bed in there. The furniture
was very old and dark. Julie threw her bag and then herself on the bouncy bed.
I smiled. She seemed to feel so at home here.

"Now you and I will be in the room right
next to hers," Peter said.

I followed him down the hallway. "You and
I, huh? You really think we're ready for that?"

Peter opened the door and showed me the most
astonishing room. It was huge, almost the size of my dad's entire first floor.
It had a big bathroom attached to it with a spa and, in the center, was
literally the biggest bed I had ever seen. It was all very old-fashioned but
astoundingly beautiful.

"Don't you think we are now?" he
asked. "Don't you think we're ready to take this to the next level?"

I took off my shoes and planted my feet in the
thick carpet. Then I smiled. "I think we are." I walked closer, then
leaned over and kissed him. "I really think we are."

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