“You’re just mad that I’m actually doing something to change the world. This evening we’re going to—”
Jenny stopped talking, and Irene froze.
“So what’s your big plan?” Katarina scoffed.
“Direct action.”
A moment of silence. Finally Katarina said, “What do you have there?”
“None of your business.”
“You’re an idiot.”
Irene peeked down the stairs and saw Katarina head toward the bathroom door in a rage. Katarina slammed the door and locked it dramatically. At the counter, Jenny was drinking a glass of water, the poster roll jammed up under her left arm. She held a tomato sandwich in the other hand. She had her jacket on. Then she headed for the door, opened it, and left.
The second the door closed behind Jenny, Irene shot down the stairs. Without making a sound, she pulled on her jacked and slipped out after her daughter.
It was dark and below freezing outside. Irene saw Jenny in the light of a street lamp and realized she was heading for the bus stop. Irene whirled back toward the garage and got into her car. She drove slowly toward the bus stop and parked the car in the darkness between two streetlights a short distance away. As she turned off the motor, she saw Jenny appear by the bus shelter. A few minutes later, the bus arrived, and Jenny climbed aboard. Irene followed at a distance.
Jenny got off the bus at the Frolunda Square stop. She started to walk toward one of the apartment buildings. Irene was distracted as she parked the car and paid the fee. She lost sight of Jenny. She knew only the building Jenny had entered, but not which entrance she’d used.
Irene cursed her own idiocy. What would it matter if she’d gotten a parking ticket? Now she had to sit and wait, since there was nothing else she could do. As she waited, she took out her cell phone and called Katarina.
“Hi, sweetheart. I’m going to be a little late this evening. There’s chicken stew in the fridge. Could you boil some rice and throw together a salad? … Oh, so you already had a sandwich, I see.… But maybe you’ll want some dinner once I get home.… All right. I understand. Could you at least take Sammie out for his walk before you head over to Anna’s? … Okay, thanks. Be home by ten. School tomorrow. Bye, now.”
Irene hung up and prepared to wait for Jenny to reappear. She waited a long time.
Her car was freezing cold, and it was almost nine in the evening when she saw her daughter again. Jenny was not alone. She was in the middle of a gang of six people; it was hard to say whether they were girls or boys. All of them wore hoodies that shadowed their faces. The young people headed over to an old Volvo 240. It was hard to tell its true color under the predominant color of rust. It was a real clunker. Irene had almost wanted to go see if its inspection was current when she’d first caught sight of it. One of the taller people, who Irene assumed was a boy, opened the trunk. He searched for something, then pulled it out and handed it to Jenny. Jenny took off her jacket in spite of the cold weather to put on this new article of clothing. Irene had a chill down her spine when she saw that it was a hoodie, too. Jenny pulled the string on the hood so that little could be seen of her face. Now she looked like all the others.
The whole gang hopped into the car. It protested loudly at being started, but finally it began to move. The thick exhaust made it impossible for the kids to see Irene following them. She could have been only five yards behind them and they wouldn’t have seen her through the smoke. Nevertheless, she kept her distance.
The car turned onto Radiovagen and headed toward the suburb of Molndal. Irene had no difficulty following them, since the Volvo could hardly go more than forty-five miles an hour. Its engine sounded like an old sewing machine set at zigzag.
They passed the Radiomot and kept going until, to Irene’s surprise, the car signaled a left turn. The car drove up Viktor Hasselblads Gata. Irene dropped back a little more, since there was not much traffic here at this hour. The rusty clunker slowed even further and began to creep along the road. What were they up to? Irene’s worst suspicions were confirmed when the car turned off onto a small side street. She hit the gas and went on past. She was able to see the neon sign reading NISSE’S MEAT AND DELI.
Irene switched off her headlights as she turned down a neighboring side street. She got out of the car as quietly as possible and closed the door carefully. She decided to head back via the roads behind the industry buildings along Viktor Hasselblads Gata. It would have been much easier to walk down the main street, but she was sure the gang would have assigned someone to keep watch.
It wasn’t easy to find her way among the confusion of side streets. Finally she was able to recognize the back side of the neon sign for Nisse’s Deli. A high fence surrounded the large parking lot behind the building, but at the corner there was a clump of bushes that would provide a good hiding place.
Irene peeked out between the branches. All she could make out were three parked refrigerator trucks. The back of the building and the loading dock near it were brightly lit. She figured that the distance between the dock and the trucks was about five yards. Everything appeared calm and silent, except for a repeated metallic snipping sound. Someone was cutting through the chain-link fence. Then she saw five dark silhouettes moving into the lot next to the trucks. She’d been right. One of them was standing watch.
Slowly, she moved closer to the fence. She had a good guess where the hole had been made and gingerly felt along the fence until she found the cut-open space. She passed through carefully and took cover in the darkness at the side of the building.
The group of shadowy figures was gathered just out of range of the light near the front of the closest truck. The tallest one lifted his arm over his head and measured a blow with the heavy pliers. The memory of a different set of wire cutters sprang into Irene’s head.
She fished out her cell phone, and at the same time as she heard the shattering of glass, she called emergency services, 112. As the wick of the gasoline bomb caught fire, she reached someone on the other end.
“Firebombing of a refrigerator truck. Militant vegans. Hogsbo industrial area, Viktor Hasselblads Gata. Nisse’s Meat and Deli. The activists are driving an old, rusty Volvo 240. License number N—”
She was so concentrated on the fire breaking out that she didn’t notice someone creeping up behind her. Just before everything went dark, she thought she heard Jenny’s horrified scream: “Mama!”
IRENE CAME TO a few moments later. She heard running footsteps across the asphalt and the slamming of a car door. In spite of her ambivalent prayer to the contrary, the car’s motor started right up. Her skull throbbed, and she felt extremely nauseous. With great difficulty she lifted her head to look around. She saw a flamenco dance of flames before her eyes and felt the heat on her face. When the world finally stopped spinning, she saw that the truck was burning. It took her a few more seconds before she heard the sobbing. Irene slowly turned to look behind her and saw a huddled figure she intuitively knew was Jenny. She began to crawl toward her daughter. She didn’t dare stand. She feared she’d pass out if she did.
Jenny didn’t appear to be hurt, although she was down on the ground. Her entire body was shaking from sobs. Or perhaps from the cold. To her surprise, Irene realized that Jenny wasn’t wearing any coat, not even the awful hoodie. Which Irene was glad to see. But now she had on only a T-shirt. Her skin was ice-cold when Irene reached her and stroked her arm with a shaking hand. “There, there, sweetheart,” she said. “Come on, let’s get out of here before my cronies get here.”
Jenny swallowed her sobs and nodded. Shakily, she stood up and tried to help her mother, but Irene was unable to stand.
“I’ll just crawl for a bit,” Irene said.
As quickly as she could, she made her way to the opening in the fence. It was easy to find now in the light of the blaze. She used the fence to help her get to her feet. Extremely slowly, she headed toward the bushes in the corner. They could hear police sirens coming closer. The moment the first flash of blue light appeared, Irene ducked behind the bushes and pulled Jenny after her. She wrapped her arms around her daughter to both keep her warm and comfort her. They sat stock-still.
They heard the slam of a car door and footsteps on the asphalt.
“Damn, it’s locked. We have to pull the alarm—Wait, is that a car from the security company? Hey there, guys! I’m glad you’re here. The fire truck will be here any second. Hurry and open the fence.”
Now or never. The activity around the fence and the approach of the fire truck distracted the policemen and firemen just enough so that Irene and Jenny could sneak away. Irene supported herself with a hard grip on Jenny’s
