The Hanging Girl

37

Sunday, May 11th, 2014

When Pirjo woke up, her body was quivering with an unpleasant sensation, like the kind you get before an exam you hadn’t prepared for, or the morning after a quarrel you couldn’t resolve.

She looked at the clock, aware that she might as well get out of bed and get it over with. In less than one minute the alarm would go off anyway. It was 3:59 A.M., forty-five minutes before sunrise.

She heard Atu’s footsteps in the hall, heading as always for the beach, where he’d greet the first rays of the sun with prayers, despite the presence of clouds pregnant with rain.

Like him, Pirjo also had her routines.

To begin with, she needed to wake up the newly arrived course members, and then under the showers in the central courtyard to perform the usual personal cleansing process with communal wash-down and subsequent drying-off on the porch, gazing at the aura of the sun as it slowly edged its way up over the horizon.

After this, the new course members would go back to their cabins to perform a brief, silent exercise of chanting to the Celestial Sphere.

The permanent residents and temporary assistants were already working in their respective quarters, and now it was Pirjo’s task to go from house to house and check that all residents were ready. From time to time, someone overslept, and sometimes someone was sick. If Pirjo wasn’t there to check and help, the hour of awakening was at risk of being disturbed by latecomers who would suddenly turn up during the ritual. Atu had impressed on them that culprits who were late would have to find something else to do, but sometimes it happened anyway.

This morning, three people were sick. They’d been vomiting all night, and the air in their rooms was thick with the smell of sick and fumes from upset stomachs. Pirjo fetched herbal tea for two of them and let the third one sleep, which was often the best cure. Understandably behind in her routine, Pirjo stepped out into the hallway connecting the small cabins. Normally she’d be on her way down to the timber circle by this time, so she accidentally overheard a conversation that wasn’t meant for her ears.

The men were out in good time before the assembly, and therefore they were shuffling slowly through the hallway. The light was still dim, but she recognized the footsteps and voices of two of the oldest disciples: one who looked after the crops in the greenhouses, and another who was helping to build a new timber circle to the north. A long, hard day’s work ahead of them, it was understandable that they were taking it easy.

“Should we take this to Atu?” asked one of them.

“I don’t know,” said the figure next to him.

“We can’t take it to Pirjo. That would be like taking sides in advance.”

“But if things keep happening that shouldn’t, and that Pirjo has some part in it, then where will we find inner peace?”

“I don’t think Pirjo has any part in it. It’s Shirley who’s ruining the harmony of this place, not Pirjo.”

“Yes, you’re probably right. So you don’t think we should go to Atu and ask him to stop the gossip?”

“No, why? Shirley doesn’t fit in here. So it’ll solve itself when she’s gone.”

Pirjo stopped so they wouldn’t see her when they turned the corner by the exit door.

“It’ll solve itself when she’s gone,” they’d said. The way Pirjo looked at it, that couldn’t happen soon enough.

She turned off toward her office, walked past the door to Atu’s quarters, and opened instead the next door that led to the solar power system control room.

It took her only a couple of minutes to remove the cover plates to the junction box and the inverter, laying bare all the cables.

So, she had paid attention after all.

* * *

The morning had been foggy, but just before the sun showed above the horizon, the clouds dispersed and everything suddenly became immensely beautiful.

Atu was waiting as usual, elevated seven meters on the platform in the timber circle, his hair glistening wet, his eyes turned to the sunrise in the east, consumed with the glow above the sea.

His hair was shining like gold, and his yellow robe was waving in the morning breeze. He was beautiful like a god.

He turned toward them, and everything went quiet.

“Let us greet the sun with upward-stretched arms,” he said.

Thirty-five pairs of arms stretched out toward the sea, and they remained motionless like that until he told them to breathe deeply twelve times, and then let their hands glide down over their bodies so that all the dormant energy of the night would be activated.

“I feel you, and I see you. Abanshamash, Abanshamash,” he whispered, stretching his arms out in front of his body, causing the yellow sleeves to flap. “I see you,” he whispered. “I see you, and your souls are beckoning to me. You are ready.

“Today is the one hundred and thirty-first day of the year, and it has increased by nine hours and twenty-two minutes. Three days from now, the full moon will rise, and the sun will gain strength through its arrival. Helianthemum, the flower of the sun, is in bloom everywhere, alongside potentillas and orchids. Just now, our greenhouses are bursting with green beans, onions, and cucumbers. New potatoes and asparagus will soon fill our dining tables. Let us give thanks.”

“Horus, Horus, blessed by the star, infused by the sun,” exclaimed the assembly with one voice. “Allow us to be your servants, and bear witness to the power you bestow on us. Allow us to follow your path and worship it, so that our descendants may find comfort in your bosom. Let us be prepared when you go into hibernation, and let us never forget the reason for your presence.”

They stopped just as suddenly as they’d started, the same way they always did.

Atu stretched his arms out toward them. “Let us remember that a guiding star is something we follow, and let us at the same time beware of bestowing on the gods a so-called existence. Let us live instead in eternal knowledge of our own ignorance regarding the universal, and care for our immediate surroundings. Let us, instead of always demanding, concentrate on learning and settling for less. Merely feel nature and give in to it. Merely realize that man is but an insignificant part of everything, and that the individual is only significant in terms of their humility in the company of others.”

He laid his eyes directly upon them.

When his gaze met Pirjo’s, it was full of tenderness, and she put her hands under her pregnant stomach, knowing that she should feel happy. Instead, she had a sense of despair and unease. Something she had never before experienced during their assemblies.

If she didn’t act soon, she’d lose her grip.

She mustered the newly arrived, one by one. All these trusting people who’d begin from the very first assembly to breathe deeper, simply because Atu spoke to them and because it felt so precious. Their faith and respect mustn’t suffer. When she stood here in six months with Atu’s baby in her arms, she still had to be as she was now, irreproachable, and yes, like an icon. The mother of Atu’s child, the redeemer’s son.

Now Atu was smiling up there, like a father at his children.

“To those of you who are new, let me tell you that you’ve reached the point where together we will go through a series of nature absorption exercises. And when we are finished with that, I’ll ask you to come up here to me together with your tutors. You’ve probably already sensed that the spiritual paths many of you have chosen throughout your lives have no significance in this place. You have not come to engage in your own understanding of self, or to focus on what other spiritual movements focus on. You aren’t here to concentrate on your own soul and consciousness, or to indulge in dogma or creeds. You’re here for the sole purpose of learning to be. To us, Horus is everything, but not only because Horus in many respects represents millennia of different clever people’s interpretations of, and wonderment at, the questions of where we come from and, especially, why. You may think that there is as much mysticism and hocus-pocus going on here as in other circles, but remember that what we are going through on a daily basis are merely rituals. It is our task here at the center to ensure that you can achieve the required peace of mind with simple, durable means, and nothing else. By using the name of Horus we merely express our thanks for the gifts of life and nature, and that they are enough in themselves. If you can devote yourselves fully to this, you’ll also reach a stage where you possess all the human characteristics that serve you best: compassion, love of your fellow human beings, and peace of mind to assess tomorrow’s path and power to analyze yesterday without regret and despair.”

Then he asked them all to sit down on the ground.

“All science builds on comparison of the known and the unknown, so therefore . . . ,” he began.

* * *

Pirjo pulled Valentina aside when this part of the séance was over and the newly arrived were ascending the stairs to the timber circle platform, their faces expectant, while the permanent residents went to perform their daily tasks.

“Yes,” said Valentina, apparently not intending to allow Pirjo to drag her away.

“I have good news, Valentina. We’ve heard from Malena.”

Valentina’s lips opened slightly; her hand moved up toward her chest.

“Malena?” she said, disbelief painted across her face.

“Yes, she called this morning, just before the assembly. I don’t think she’d considered what time it was here on Öland, but never mind. She’s in Canada, in a town called Dutton, she said. A small place in Ontario with a main street and an old provisions shop where she can buy all the French specialties she enjoys so much. She’s still travelling from place to place, making a living by writing texts for people. She just wanted to let us know she’s doing well. She did sound happy.”

“Really?” exclaimed Valentina. She had clearly been hoping for more than that. A personal message, perhaps.

“I can see what you’re thinking.” Pirjo smiled. “And she did actually have a personal message for you, Valentina. She wanted to thank you for your friendship and everything you’ve taught her. She asked me to let you know. She’s very happy now, she said, and wanted you in particular to know that.”

“Friendship, did she use that word?”

“Yes, and her voice sounded very warm when she said it.”

Finally the woman smiled. “Will she be coming back?”

“I didn’t ask. Maybe, if she feels the need. I believe we’ll hear from her again, when she needs to talk.”

For a moment Valentina stood staring into space, trying to replace her excitement with relief. “Even though I don’t really mean it, even if I never see her again, I guess it’s for the best, as long as she’s all right, isn’t it?”

Pirjo took her arm. Now she’d captured her confidence and attention. Five minutes’ research last night on some random French-speaking town far, far away had paid off.

“I have more good news for you,” she said.

Valentina touched her neck. Could there really be more?

“We have an assignment for you. You’re going on a journey.”

* * *

“Would you come with me for a minute, Shirley? I’d really like to have a word with you. I think we’ve reached a point where we need to talk about the future, don’t you think?”

The woman straightened her robe over her stomach and down the sides. It was a movement she’d carried with her from her former life, when she was still making an effort to look presentable despite her weight.

“That sounds . . . interesting,” she said.

She could bet it was going to be interesting, thought Pirjo, looking around her. The hallway down to the office was empty, as was the adjacent office. Even better, the rays of the sun were now streaming sideways in through the windows.

Wondering how long it would take, she thought it was best to let Shirley go in first. If she was paralyzed by the first shock and fell on the floor, Pirjo wouldn’t be able to lift her up again. But then she could get the cable kit in the garage and hook her up to it. That ought to do the trick, she thought, suddenly doubtful. Perhaps the fuses would blow, or something would short-circuit.

She hesitated and decided to walk more slowly. This suddenly seemed insane, but what other options did she have? The woman had to go.

“Come with me into the office, Shirley, then I’ll tell you what we had in mind. Yes, you go first.”

She pointed at a chair on the other side of the desk, just next to the open door to the passage and the solar power control room.

“Oh, someone has forgotten to shut the door again—that’s where that noise is coming from. Would you mind shutting it, Shirley?”

“What’s in there?” she asked, her eyebrows lowered. A sign of mistrust or curiosity?

“Oh, it’s just the control room for our solar power system.”

“Really?” said Shirley, letting go of the chair she’d been about to sit down on.

Pirjo waited a moment before following her. “If you like, I can show you what it’s all about,” she said, pulling a rubber glove over one hand, while Shirley stepped into the control room.

Pirjo checked the effect gauge. Even though it was still early in the day, the production of power was steadily increasing. The sky had also started to look brighter and bluer through the skylight, she noticed.

“I must admit, it’s a bit of a mess. Our electrician has removed the cover plates from the junction boxes, so we have to be careful,” she warned, getting ready to push Shirley’s hand into the snake’s nest of wires.

“Nothing much would happen,” answered Shirley, unimpressed. “The effect isn’t very high, and it would be very difficult to be killed by direct current. You’d have to be unconscious and have one negative and one positive wire attached to each side of your body. Then your insides would be more or less boiled. Like being inside a microwave.”

She said that in the very moment Pirjo stretched her arm forward, getting ready to press Shirley’s hand into the trap.

So she let her hand drop. Unconscious, she said? Wires on each side of the body?

Shirley looked at her authoritatively. “Didn’t you know that the first electric chair was supposed to have used direct current, but that Thomas Edison guy warned the authorities, telling them that direct current wouldn’t kill without excessively prolonged torture? He was the one who suggested alternating current instead. Crazy, isn’t it? Edison himself! No, this direct current would only sting a little. Perhaps it’d be different later in the day, when the sun was at its strongest, but not now. Shouldn’t I screw those cover plates back on for you, by the way? After all, it isn’t completely safe if worse comes to worst.”

Pirjo was stunned. “Er, yes please. How on earth do you know stuff like that, Shirley?”

“Oh, my dad was an electrician. Guess what he entertained the family with over dinner, the few times he preferred to spend time with his family rather than his pals down at the pub.”

Pirjo tilted her head to the side. Shirley’s father was an electrician. Had she mentioned that when she filled out her enrollment papers?

“No, just leave those cover plates, the electrician can fix that when he comes back. I’ll lock the doors so no one gets hurt in the meantime.”

So, Pirjo’s plan A had suddenly been replaced by a plan B when they sat down in her office.

“Listen, Shirley,” she said after a brief pause. “I’m afraid we’ve decided not to accept you as a permanent member of the academy. I’m sorry, because I know how disappointing it must be for you,” she said, expecting a reflex protest. Nothing happened.

On the contrary, Shirley just sat there, her eyes and face expressionless, wringing her plump hands in her lap. Judging by her quivering lower lip, the message had taken her completely by surprise.

“Yes, it’s a shame. But we simply don’t have any free places. Otherwise there might have been a chance. So it won’t happen for the time being, Shirley, I’m sorry.”

“But I don’t understand. Jeanette’s room is still free,” she said, still with a hint of hope in her voice.

“Well, that’s true, but Jeanette’s coming back, Shirley.”

Shirley sat still for a minute. Her hands were resting now, her expression no longer lost.

“That’s a complete lie, Pirjo,” she suddenly snarled.

Pirjo was just about to explain Jeanette’s situation, but the words stuck in her throat. She’d also have clarified that there was a slim chance of Shirley being accepted later, if she could remain patient, but now the gauntlet had been thrown down instead.

“I don’t know why you’re snarling like that and calling me a liar, Shirley. It’s actually quite hurtful,” she said. “I think I need to remind you that I’m the chief administrative manager of this center, so the decision about your future lies in my hands, no matter what you say or do. So why don’t we . . .”

“That may be, but you’re lying, and I’m not going anywhere.” The last part came out as a shout.

“I see. I’ll choose to ignore that,” said Pirjo coldly. “But we do have an offer to make . . .”

“People are starting to doubt you, Pirjo. They’re beginning to put two and two together. You seem so cooperative, but you’re just yanking our chains. Right now I feel the same way about you as when a man pulls the chair out from the table for you, expecting that’ll buy him the right to touch your breasts. You feel you’ve been taken for a ride, but not just that. You also feel incredibly manipulated, and of course I can only speak for myself, but I really hate that.”

“You always seem to speak for yourself only, Shirley. Maybe that’s actually one of the reasons why it’ll be hard to find a place for you.”

At this, Shirley got up suddenly to point an accusing finger at Pirjo, her entire voluptuous body quivering.

“If you think you can stop me by sending me away, you’re wrong.”

Pirjo squinted. “I don’t get it. Stop you how?”

“Here we go again. You’re just being manipulative. Stop me before I tell the world that you know what happened to Wanda Phinn, of course.” She pinched her lips, trying to compose herself, but her anger and all the thoughts she was grappling with made her burst out crying.

Pirjo breathed a sigh of relief. Just a few tears and she knew she’d have the situation under control.

“My, oh my, Shirley, are we back to that story about the belt? Come over here to my side of the table, and I’ll show you something. Then you’ll see that you’re completely wrong about me and the whole situation.”

When Shirley didn’t show any sign of obeying, Pirjo turned the screen toward her.

“Look what I found on the Net. I felt I had to, after our last talk about that belt.” She clicked on the first link, and a webpage called Fashion Belts appeared.

“See how many belts look like the one you said Jeanette brought down from the attic.” She pointed at a few. “Look, diagonal stripes in red and grey.” She clicked on another link. “And this company also has some that look like the one you gave Wanda Phinn. Six months ago that was how belts should look. It’s a completely common belt.”

Shirley huffed. Her eyes were glistening. At that very moment, they were balancing on a knife’s edge, and they might both fall, so Pirjo had to be extremely careful to maintain the balance. Keep Shirley convinced that they were fighting for the same cause.

“I know what you’re thinking right now, Shirley. The belts on the Net aren’t used, and the scratch on the buckle and the dent in the belt can’t be explained by this. But look what I also found.”

She clicked on a couple of links to pages where women sold clothes from their own wardrobes. On two of the pages, there were used belts for sale that looked more or less like the one Shirley was talking about.

It had taken her all night to find them.

“Look, Shirley. One of these belts has a scratch, and they both have dents around the hole that are actually identical to the one you showed me. Can you see the resemblance? Four holes in and there’s the mark from wear, exactly like on the belt you thought was Wanda’s. They’re just pretty ordinary marks of wear and tear on a belt, don’t you see?”

Shirley’s eyes fixed on the screen; her tears began to flow uncontrollably, both from sadness and relief.

Pirjo let her cry while she considered the situation.

Just now, the woman was both disappointed and confused, but the problem was that in a few days she might not be confused anymore, only disappointed. Perhaps she’d be sitting in London, imagining that somehow she’d be able to track Wanda down. That she had a mission. And when another month or two had passed, and she’d talked to every Tom, Dick, and Harry, including Wanda’s parents, and found out that the girl in fact had disappeared, her alarming ideas would reemerge.

And then what? Would her suspicion also reemerge with renewed strength? Pirjo was certain that it would.

Of course, it would take convincing proof for Shirley to be able to substantiate her accusation against Pirjo and the center, but what if her timing proved fatal? If she launched her attack just as the Danish police drew in? There might only be a slim chance of that happening, but the baby was growing and kicking inside Pirjo, and she’d made a sacred promise to this child.

Nothing would ever be allowed to harm them.

She looked at Shirley for some time, and then placed her hand on hers. “I feel the same way as you, Shirley. I don’t like it when people turn their backs on me either. When they suddenly show sides of themselves that couldn’t have been predicted. When they flush me out of their lives, coldly and cynically, as if I’d never been a part of it. Yes, I really do understand you, Shirley,” she said, when their eyes finally met. “But listen, why don’t we forget about what happened between us just before? I know you’re very disappointed with our decision that you can’t stay, and that we can’t accept you into our inner circle. But we do still have a suggestion for you, Shirley.

“You see, Valentina has been given an assignment today. She’s to go to our office in Barcelona to recruit local course members. Perhaps you could do the same for us from our London office? Do you think that could interest you? It would be wonderful, because I actually think you’d be really good at it.”

Pirjo sent her a hesitant smile. If the gullible woman was ever going to buy it, it had to be now.

“I know you’ll be out of a job when you return. But the job I’m talking about will be paid. I know the salary is commission-based, but we usually have a lot of applicants in London, which would be to your benefit. And it’s important to remember that there’s also a small apartment that comes with the job. What do you say, wouldn’t that be exciting?”

Shirley remained silent.

“But before we can do this, you’ll have to be led through our purification process, just like the one Valentina went through about a year ago. As always, that requires you to be isolated for a month, so you can forget about everything that’s worldly, and spend all your energy on letting the nature absorption settle within you—become neutralized, as we call it. If you’re willing to do that, and if you accept the job, I see no reason why we shouldn’t begin straightaway.”

Pirjo scrutinized her face. Often, the order in which the parts of a face reacted would give away whether or not an answer was honest. Smile lines around the eyes, for instance, would often be the result of cool calculation; it was the same with smiles, so you couldn’t trust that kind of reaction, just like the far too short answers “okay,” or just “yes.” On the other hand, if there were signs of the person being touched, before the smiles or short answers, then you were on fairly safe ground.

At the moment, Shirley’s face was completely blank. It was impossible to tell what was going on inside. Would her next sentence be a burst of anger or a declaration of surrender?

Pirjo waited, aware of the seriousness of the situation. Their eyes were almost united in symbiosis. For a moment she thought Shirley would get up and slam the door, but then the corners of her mouth moved downward, as if she was about to start crying again.

That’s when Pirjo knew she’d won the battle.

“Is Atu okay with this arrangement?” asked Shirley quietly.

Pirjo nodded. “Yes, of course. We’ve been talking about it for some time. Actually, I believe you’ll be able to recruit many new people with your fine, gentle nature and honest face.”

That brought the smile out. Not too much, not too little, and at the right time.

“Well, in that case I’ll accept,” she said, her eyes avoiding Pirjo’s. It was difficult to tell what that indicated. Maybe it was a sign that she was ashamed of having attacked and accused Pirjo, but of course there was also the possibility that she was trying to memorize the sight of a place she wouldn’t be seeing for some time now.

Pirjo smiled.

If it was the latter, then she had no idea how right she’d turn out to be.

She’d certainly never see this room again.

This room, or any other room like it for that matter.