Hell Fire

19 December 2004

In the evening, Bonnie suggested they drive down to the video store to find a film they could snuggle up to and watch together. Simon was delighted and immediately ran into the hall to put on his coat. They locked the door and went out to the car. No more snow had fallen and it would only take twenty minutes or so to drive there. She put the key in the ignition and tried to turn it. But the key wouldn’t budge; it was stuck. After she tried three or four times, she sat back in the seat and stared nonplussed at the windshield. It probably wasn’t anything major and would be sorted soon enough. So she tried again, but the key still wouldn’t budge. Oh no, she thought in desperation. I haven’t got time for this!

“We have to go now,” Simon said from the back seat.

“Yes,” Bonnie replied. “But I can’t start the car.”

Simon sat up, an unhappy expression on his face. Bonnie looked at him in the rearview mirror. His blond curls were hidden under a red woolly hat and he looked like a little gnome.

“Maybe we could take a taxi?” he said hopefully, but Bonnie said that would be far too expensive. She tried to turn the key again, and again it remained stuck.

“Damn car!” she said out loud — she couldn’t help herself. In frustration, she tried with all her strength to force it. But then she realized that the key might break, which would be even worse. Simon panicked. A terrible thought struck him: if the car was broken, his mom wouldn’t be able to get to work, and if she couldn’t get to work, there would be no money. And if there was no money, there would be no Christmas. That was what Britt had said.

“We’ll have to go back inside,” Bonnie said wearily. She closed her eyes and groaned. She took the key out of the ignition and trudged back through the snow. Simon trotted along behind her. There was nothing to do; they just had to open the door and go back into the warmth.

“I’m sure we’ll find something on TV,” she promised. “I’ll check all the channels.”

Simon climbed up onto the sofa and she chose a channel for him. Then she went into the kitchen and sat down at the table. She laid her head on her arms. As far as she could see, there was no solution, and her heart was heavy. She looked around the kitchen and spotted the bottle of red wine standing in a corner on the countertop. She got up, opened it, took out the largest glass in the cupboard, and filled it to the brim. Sometimes she thought the fact that everything was so difficult was some kind of punishment. There was no getting away from a guilty conscience. She drank the red wine and gritted her teeth. She was indifferent. Ah well, everything could just go to hell; Erna and Ingemar and the others would just have to look after themselves. She drank in great gulps, and when the glass was empty, she called Britt and told her about the damn car and all her problems.

“Jesus, it’s all a bit too much for you right now,” Britt said.

Bonnie sat in silence at the other end and pressed her cell phone to her ear. Just to hear Britt’s voice was a comfort in itself.

“I’m going to go to bed early tonight,” she said. “I’ll call Ragnhild in the morning and explain. Right now I’m so tired; everything else will just have to wait.”

When she had put the phone down, she poured another glass of wine and went into the living room, to Simon, who was watching lions in Africa. They were resting under an acacia tree, having just killed an antelope, and were bloody at the mouth. He found it interesting, but his thoughts kept returning to his mother. He realized that the problem with the car was not good. He thought about what she had said out loud. Damn car. Sometimes he dreamed that someone would parachute into their lives, perhaps from the sea in a big helicopter. Someone like his dad, Olav, for example. But he rarely mentioned it because his mom just shook her head and wouldn’t say any more.

When Bonnie switched over to the news, Simon sat down at the table with his African animals; he lifted the vulture and let it attack a lion.

“There’s a car coming,” he stated. Bonnie looked at him in surprise.

“Two cars,” he said and pressed his face to the window. Bonnie went over to look, but it was dark so she could only see the headlights. The cars stopped along the road, the doors opened. Two cars outside the gate, what could that mean? Simon watched his mother. Some of her tension transferred to him. He had seen her like this before, white in the face with worry. They went out into the hall to open the front door. There was Britt standing on the front step with her husband Jens behind her. They were both smiling. Bonnie looked at the two cars back on the road. She had never seen one of them before, but the other was Jens’s red Volvo.

“The Ford belongs to my father-in-law,” Britt said, “but it’s just been rusting away in the garage because he stopped driving after the heart attack. So you can borrow it while yours is getting repaired. It’s probably just the lock cylinder and that won’t break the bank. We’ll tow your car to the garage; it’s not a big job. Jens says it will be done in minutes.”

Bonnie started to cry. She was overwhelmed by her friend’s ability to solve problems.

“You big softie,” Britt said and laughed. “Stop your crying. Most things can be sorted; you just need to be creative. Where were you going?”

“The video store,” Bonnie replied, looking down at Simon.

“Great, you take the Ford, then,” Britt ordered.

Bonnie had to laugh at that. “I’ve drunk half a bottle of red wine,” she admitted, “so I’d probably better not.”

Britt looked over at her husband. “Well, we’ll just take you there in the Volvo, then,” she said. “What do you want to see, Simon?”

“The Lion King,” he said happily, because now the evening had been saved and his mom was smiling again.

She knew that it would be late by the time they got back. First they had to tow the Opel to the garage, then go to the video store, and then back here. They would both be late to bed. But right now she didn’t care because she was so relieved. She stood for a while and looked at them, filled with immense gratitude. She didn’t see Jens very often. But when she did, he always gave her that special look: a glint in his eyes that she had seen so many times before. She was used to men looking at her, but this was her best friend’s husband. She didn’t return the look.