Don't Look Back

Johnas was lucky. He had just bent down to take his cigarettes out of his jacket pocket. He took his time straightening up.

'No,' he groaned, 'I don't have the strength to talk about Eskil.'

'We can take all the time we need,' Sejer said. 'Start with that day, that day in November, from the moment you got up, you and your son.'

Johnas shook his head and nervously licked his lips. The only thing he could think about was the disk, which he hadn't managed to read. Maybe Sejer had taken it and read through everything that Annie had written. The thought was enough to make him feel faint.

'It's hard to talk about it. I've tried to put it behind me. Why are you so interested in an old tragedy? Don't you have more pressing matters to occupy your time?'

'I realise that it's hard. But try anyway. I know that you were having a difficult time and that you really should have had professional help. Tell me about him.'

'But why do you want to talk about Eskil!'

'The boy was an important part of Annie's life. And everything about Annie needs to be brought to light.'

'I realise that, I realise that. I'm just confused. For a moment I thought you might have suspected me of… you know. Of having something to do with Annie's death.'

Sejer smiled, a rare open smile. Then he gave Johnas a look of surprise and shook his head.

'Would you have a motive for killing Annie?'

'Of course not,' he said. 'But to be honest, it took a lot for me to call you and say that she had been in my car. I knew I was sticking my neck out.'

'We would have found out anyway. Someone saw you.'

'That's what I thought. That's why I called.'

'Tell me about Eskil,' Sejer said, unperturbed.

Johnas slumped forward and took a drag on his cigarette. He looked confused. His lips were moving, but not a sound came out.

In his mind everything was clear, but now the room was closing in around him, and all he could hear was the breathing of the man on the other side of the table. He glanced at the clock on the wall in order to organise his thoughts. It was early evening, 6 p.m.

Eskil woke up with a gleeful shout at 6 a.m. Tumbled around in our bed, hurling himself this way and that. Wanted to get up at once. Astrid needed to sleep some more, she hadn't slept well, and so I had to get up. He followed me out of the room and into the bathroom, hanging on to my pyjama legs. His arms and legs were everywhere, and he talked non-stop, an endless stream of sounds and shouts. He wriggled around like an eel when I tried desperately to put his clothes on him. He didn't want to wear nappies. Didn't want to wear the outfit I found for him, kept on reaching for anything that wasn't nailed down, and finally climbed up on the toilet lid and began pulling things down from the shelf under the mirror. Astrid's jars and bottles crashed to the floor. I lifted him down and was immediately swept up in the same old patterns. I scolded him, kindly at first, and shoved a Ritalin pill in his mouth, which he promptly spat out as he grabbed the shower curtain and managed to pull it down. I tried to get dressed, tried to make sure he didn't damage anything, didn't break anything. Finally we were both dressed. I lifted him up and carried him into the kitchen to put him in his chair. On the way across the room he suddenly threw his head back and hit me in the mouth. My lip split open and began to bleed. I strapped him in and buttered a piece of bread, but he didn't want the food I fixed for him; he shook his head and threw the plate across the table while he screamed that he wanted sausage instead.

'Johnas?' Sejer said. 'Tell me about Eskil.'

Johnas shook himself and looked at the inspector. At last he made a decision.

'All right, if that's what you want. November 7th. A day like any other day, which means an indescribable day. He was a torpedo, he was destroying the whole family in his wake. Magne was getting worse and worse grades in school and couldn't stand to be home any more. He would go off with his friends every afternoon and evening. Astrid never got enough sleep; I couldn't keep regular hours at the shop. Every meal was a trial. Annie,' he said all of a sudden, smiling sadly, 'Annie was the only bright spot. She would come and get him whenever she had time. Then silence would descend on the house like a hurricane. We would collapse wherever we were sitting or lying and completely pass out. We were exhausted and desperate, and no one gave us any help. We were told quite clearly that he would never grow out of it. He would always have trouble concentrating, and he would be hyperactive the rest of his life. The whole family would have to put up with him for years to come. For years. Can you even imagine that?'

'And that day, you had a fight with him?'

Johnas laughed wildly. 'We were always fighting. It was a neurosis in our family. No doubt we did our part to make things worse for him; we had no idea how to tackle him. We screamed and shouted, and his whole life consisted of swear words and unpleasantness.'

'Tell me what happened.'

'Magne stuck his head in the kitchen and shouted goodbye. He went off to catch his bus with his bag over his shoulder. It was still dark outside. I buttered a new piece of bread and put some sausage on it. Then I cut it up in little pieces, even though he could easily have eaten the crust. The whole time he was banging his cup on the oilcloth-covered table, shouting and screaming, not with laughter or anger, just an endless stream of sounds. Suddenly he caught sight of the dessert waffles on the counter from the day before, and started nagging me for them, and even though I knew he would win, I said no. That word was like a red flag for him, so he refused to give up, banging his cup and rocking back and forth in his chair, which threatened to fall over. I stood at the counter with my back turned, shaking. Finally I stepped over and grabbed the plate, pulled off the plastic, and lifted up a ring of waffles. Threw the sausage bits in the trash and put the waffles in front of him. Tore off a couple of the hearts. I knew he wasn't going to eat them quietly. There was a lot more in store for me; I knew how he was. Eskil wanted jam on them. Furious, my hands shaking, I spread raspberry jam on two of the hearts. That's when he smiled. I remember it so well, that last smile. He was pleased with himself. I couldn't stand the fact that he was so happy, while I was on the edge of a nervous breakdown. He picked up his plate and started slamming it against the table. He didn't want the waffles after all, he didn't really like them, the only thing he wanted in all the world was to have his own way. The waffles slid off the plate and on to the floor, so I had to find a cloth. I looked everywhere, but couldn't find one, so I picked up the waffles and spread them out. He watched me with interest as I made a big lump. His little face didn't have a trace of fear for what was to come. I was boiling inside, and some of the steam had to be let out, I didn't know how. Suddenly I bent over the table and stuffed the waffles in his mouth, pushing them in as far as they would go. I still remember his surprised look and the tears that sprang to his eyes.

''Right now!' I shrieked at him in fury. 'Right now you're going to eat your goddamn waffles!''

Johnas collapsed like a broken stick.

'I didn't mean to do it!'

His cigarette was smouldering in the ashtray. Sejer swallowed and let his eyes slide towards the window, but he found nothing that could erase the image from his retina: the little boy with his mouth full of dessert waffles and his big, terrified eyes.

He looked at Johnas. 'We have to accept the children we're given, don't you agree?'

'That's what they all said. Everyone who didn't know any better, and nobody knew. And now I'm going to be charged with abuse, resulting in death. I've charged and condemned myself long ago, and you can't make things any worse.'

Sejer looked at him. 'What exactly was the charge?'

'Eskil's death was entirely my fault. I was responsible for him. Nothing can be excused or explained away. The only thing is that I didn't mean for him to die. It was an accident.'

'It must have been terrible for you,' Sejer said. 'You didn't have anyone to go to with your despair. At the same time you probably feel that you've never been properly punished for what happened. Is that how it is?'

Johnas was silent. His eyes flitted around the room.

'First you lost your youngest son, and then your wife left you, taking your older son with her. You were left all alone, with no one.'

Now Johnas began to cry. It sounded as if he had porridge in his throat that he was trying to regurgitate.

'And yet you've carried on. You have your dog to keep you company. You expanded your business, which is