Hell Fire

6

The next day at daycare, Simon told Kaja about the five perfume bottles. He sat on the bench under his snail, with a bag full of spare clothes — in case he got wet in the snow — on his lap. Simon seemed happy and that was unusual. Kaja tried to pry the bag from him and hang it up on his peg, but he protested and wanted to keep it with him. Kaja liked Simon Hayden. He was quiet and shy, and she knew that he was often difficult in the mornings. He found the daily separation from his mother hard to accept.

“You’re looking very secretive,” she said and patted him on the head. She had to talk loudly to be heard over the noise of all the children. Simon opened his bag and took out a small parcel wrapped in pink paper. There was a blue ribbon around it, which his mother had curled.

“Is that for me?” Kaja was surprised. Even though the walls in her kitchen were full of the children’s drawings, she wasn’t used to getting presents.

“You have to open it now,” Simon said.

His eyes were wide with anticipation. Kaja had to find some scissors to cut the ribbon. Some of the other children had gathered around to see, including Märta. Kaja tried to remove the ribbon and tape without spoiling the paper, but in the end she had to give up and tear it. Inside was a bottle of perfume.

“Oh, Simon,” she exclaimed in delight, “you’ve given me one of the bottles? That’s so kind of you, because the one I’ve got is almost empty.”

“I wanted to give it to you,” he said proudly. “Mom’s got so many. She’s got enough perfume to last years.”

Märta leaned forward and grabbed the bottle. “I want some perfume too,” she said enviously.

“Maybe you could put it on your Christmas list,” Kaja suggested. “You can ask your mom.”

“We’re going to the toy store today,” Simon said. “I’m going to get a present too. So long as it doesn’t cost more than two hundred kroner.”

Bonnie had parked the old Opel outside Ingemar’s house. She thought it was a good day, even though the snow was falling heavily. But it was always a challenge because Ingemar was not easy to help. They give me all the difficult ones, she thought. It’s not fair. They could have divvied it up better. She steeled herself and opened the door. Ingemar never bothered to lock it; it was left open overnight. He had worked in the police department all his life and didn’t worry about burglars. People could just come and go as they pleased. Bonnie stopped in the small living room for a moment, even though she knew he was sitting in the kitchen because he always did. The smell of old man and old food hit her as soon as she went into the kitchen.

“Hello, it’s just me.”

He grunted something incomprehensible in reply. He was looking out of the window, busy watching two horses wandering around in the white snow. All his food was out on the countertop and table — he never put it back in the fridge — and it had all gone bad. The jam was moldy and the liver pâté was changing color. He lifted a bottle of cod liver oil and took a few slugs. Ingemar was eighty-six and had been a widower since he was forty. He had children who couldn’t bear coming to see him. In a way, she could understand them because he was cantankerous and downright unfriendly. He lived his life in filthy chaos. Bonnie sat down on a stool. It was a good day, but she still felt unmotivated. It was always hard to get started, and no matter what she tried to do, Ingemar always protested: Surely that’s not necessary. The vacuum is too noisy; I don’t like it.

But she carried on regardless. The rug under the furniture in the living room was heavy. It was impossible to carry it out onto the snow, even though she should probably have done that. She straightened up and started to move the furniture out of the way. It weighed a ton, just like Erna’s furniture. She got the vacuum cleaner out of the cupboard. It was an old Volta and wasn’t much good. Still she had to do something to fill the hours. She was soon finished and started to wash the floor. Ingemar didn’t budge from his chair in the kitchen, so she had to mop around his feet. Suddenly he looked away from the window.

“You have to change the bed,” he said abruptly.

Bonnie looked at him in surprise. He never asked her to do anything, so in a way it was an improvement. She finished what she was doing, put the bucket back in the cupboard, and went over the furniture with some polish. She liked the smell of it, and it made everything shiny and bright. Then she went to the bedroom and pulled up sharp in the doorway. A nauseating stench hit her. The bed had been stripped and there were big brown stains on the light-colored mattress. It took a while before she realized what had happened. He had soiled himself in bed. And then he had stripped the bed himself.

Bonnie put a hand over her mouth. This can’t be true, she thought. She stood there, surrounded by the awful smell, wondering where to begin. On an impulse, she went into the bathroom and found the bedclothes in the bathtub, just as she had thought. He had left the comforter, sheet, and pillowcases to soak in cold water. The water was brown and she could see lumps of shit floating around. She sat down on the toilet seat and pulled at her hair. She didn’t know how long she sat there. All she could think about was old Ingemar in the kitchen drinking cod liver oil. Pretending that nothing had happened. Then she made a decision. She called Ragnhild at the office.

“The whole bathtub is full of shit,” she explained. “And his mattress is soaking wet. He can’t sleep in that bed. Everything has to go!”

Ragnhild heard the desperation in Bonnie’s voice.

“I’ll talk to his daughter; we have to get him into a home. Things can’t go on like this.”

“I know,” Bonnie said. “But it takes time, and right now I have to help him.”

Ragnhild thought for a moment. She was a nurse and had experienced most things.

“Tell Ingemar that you have to go out. Go to the Bed Store and get a new comforter and pillow. Have you got enough money to pay for it? I’ll make sure you’re reimbursed by social services.”

Bonnie said that was fine. “But what should I do with the mattress?”

“He’ll just have to continue using it for the moment,” Ragnhild said. “But you might want to wash it with bleach and turn it.”

Bonnie thanked her for her help. She went back into the kitchen and explained to Ingemar that she had to go out but would be back soon to sort everything out. He was obviously bothered by what had happened during the night and was still staring defiantly at the horses outside the window.

She drove into the center of town. She used her card to pay for parking and then walked the two blocks to the Bed Store. When she got there and started to look around, she discovered that a feather comforter cost a lot of money, and she didn’t have much in her account. So she had to buy a thin synthetic comforter that only cost two hundred kroner. She found a pillow to match, paid for everything, and put the receipt in her wallet. Then she hurried back to the car. She had to get a move on; her other clients would be waiting.

When she got back to the house, she nodded to Ingemar as she passed through the kitchen and set to work. She found some yellow rubber gloves and two black garbage bags in the cupboard. She pulled the plug out of the bathtub and tried to wring as much water as possible out of the soiled comforter, but it wasn’t easy. It weighed a ton because it was wet, and it was hard to get it all into the garbage bag. She put the dirty sheet and pillow in the other bag. She tied them closed and carried them out into the snow because if they were left in the house they’d stink the place out. She went back in and got started on the mattress. Even though she didn’t manage to remove the stains completely, she got rid of a lot and the smell faded. Then she turned it. She found some clean sheets, which she had washed a while ago in Ingemar’s old machine down in the cellar, and then made up the bed and washed the floor. Finally she went back into the bathroom and scrubbed the bathtub.

“That’s me finished,” she told Ingemar. “Everything’s done now.”

He didn’t want to look at her. Maybe he was ashamed after all. She went out to the car and called the office.

“I’ve done it,” she said to Ragnhild. “It wasn’t as bad as I thought. The garbage bags are standing in the snow outside. His children can deal with them. If they bother to show up.”

“Bonnie, I have to thank you,” Ragnhild said. “I’m pretty certain that none of the others would have done that, but then none of the others are as dedicated as you.”

Bonnie put the key in the ignition and started the car.

“You can go home now,” Ragnhild said, all of a sudden.

“I’m sorry?” Bonnie was so surprised her mouth dropped open.

“You earned some extra time off. You’re invaluable.”

When Bonnie appeared in the doorway to the playroom, Simon jumped with joy. He ran across the floor into her arms as fast as his little legs would carry him. She squeezed him tight.

“Was Kaja pleased to get the perfume?” she whispered.

Simon nodded happily. “But Märta was jealous.”

Bonnie smiled and said not to worry. She carried him in her arms to the office, where Kaja was doing some paperwork. She exchanged a few friendly words with her and then took him out to the car.

“The toy store,” she said. “I promised you yesterday. Have you thought about something you’d like that isn’t too expensive?”

Simon beamed from the back seat. Oh yes, he had thought about it a lot. Because he’d once gone Christmas shopping with Granny Henny and had seen something that he really liked. But it wasn’t what he got that Christmas and he’d never forgotten about it.

The parking lot by the shopping center was full, so Bonnie waited patiently, and soon enough she saw a van reverse out of a parking spot.

“That was lucky.” She slipped the Opel into the space, and they got out. Simon was so excited that he climbed the high escalator steps. They went into the toy store and started to wander along the shelves. It was clear that Simon was looking for something in particular, because he was patient and systematic. Every now and then, he lifted something up and stood for a while admiring it, but his mind wandered back and he continued his search. He finally found himself in front of a shelf with all kinds of animals in all shapes and colors. There were lots of cuddly stuffed animals, but he already had a well-loved teddy bear with black glass eyes. No, he was looking for something else. He picked up some big bags of colorful plastic and rubber animals, each containing a different type of animal. One of them was full of rubber snakes with beautiful zigzag patterns on their backs and poisonous red tongues.

“Ugh, you don’t want snakes, do you?” Bonnie asked, shivering. “They’re horrible.”

Simon liked them because they were soft and nice to touch, but he put them down. He lifted up another bag, this one full of Norwegian farm animals: sheep and cows and horses, a goose with orange feet, some hens and a spotted dog. He put these animals back too. And when he lifted up the third bag, he had found what he was looking for. Wild animals from the African savannah. A lion with a great mane. An elephant, a giraffe, a rhinoceros, and a hippopotamus. An ape and a beautiful flamingo, a gnu and a hyena, and a vulture.

“One hundred and ninety-eight kroner,” Bonnie said. “We’ve got just enough.”

They paid for the animals, and Simon carried them out in a shopping bag. As they approached the car, Bonnie suddenly stopped. On the windshield, under the wipers, was a piece of yellow paper. For some reason, she’d been given a parking ticket. With slow steps, she went up to the car and snatched the piece of paper; it was like plastic, weather-resistant. She had parked in a handicapped parking spot. The low sign showing the handicapped symbol was buried by the snow, so she hadn’t seen it. Seven hundred kroner, she sobbed. Simon could see that his mother was upset. And even though he was happy to have his animals, this alarmed him. Bonnie put the yellow piece of paper in her bag and made light of it. She didn’t want to ruin the day.

Once they were home, Simon asked for some scissors. He cut open the bag and let all the wild animals fall onto the floor. With great respect, he placed them in a big circle with the lion in the middle; only the buffalo was walking away.

“Scar?” Bonnie asked.

“Mufasa,” Simon replied. “We should get a jungle.”

Bonnie looked around the living room. She had potted plants on two windowsills, so she lifted them down, one by one. She made a lush green ring with them around the animals.

“Which one do you like best?” she asked.

“All of them,” Simon said without hesitation. He knelt on the worn wooden floor and admired the wild animals, lifting them up one by one and smelling them. Bonnie went into the kitchen, where she opened her handbag. She found the yellow slip and dried a tear.