“Kitties!” she called out. In spite of having sardines yesterday evening, they should be hungry by now. Still, entire days could pass without them eating anything. Perhaps they found food somewhere else. Once she’d discovered a half-eaten rat foot outside the front door. It had flesh-colored toes with tiny toenails. She’d felt nauseous as she swept it up and dumped it in the garbage can.
She touched the lid of the bread bin, but decided against it. She had no appetite. She stood in front of the window as she sipped her coffee. The light outside grew brighter. She heard the sounds of a motor — the newspaper deliveryman’s yellow car, slipping and sliding along the asphalt. She adjusted her glasses and took a look at the outside thermometer — it hovered around freezing.
Finally day broke. She began systematically searching each room of her house. If someone had been inside, she would detect it and then she would contact the police. The kitchen seemed undisturbed. So did the living rooms. The pillows on the sofa were in their proper places. The potted plants were drooping — she had to remember to water them more.
She walked to the top of the stairs that led to the basement. She listened and imagined Hasse downstairs. He was busy with the boiler. He’d soon walk up, scratching his cheek as he always did when he was unhappy about something. The scratchy sound stubble made.
“Something’s wrong with the boiler! I can’t get the heat going!” he’d call up to her.
She’d sigh. “So what should we do? It’s starting to get cold. There was frost last night for the first time.”
“I know,” he’d reply angrily. She’d hear the decisiveness in his voice. He wouldn’t give up.
Maj headed to the bottom level. The hallway was dark; it seemed the lightbulb had burned out. Dumb. She’d have to ask Anneli to come and change it for her. It was too high for her to reach, and Anneli had a good sense of balance and could stand on a chair. Perhaps Johnny could come. He was good at fixing things. Still, she didn’t like to ask him for anything.
I’ll be fine, she told herself. It’s only a small thing. It can wait.
Maybe Lovisa could come by? When was the last time Lovisa was here? Of course, she was busy with school. She was in her senior year and would graduate in the spring. Her dear grandchild. Johnny had children from his first marriage too, a pair of sinewy, silent boys. Twins. She would offer them cookies, but they’d always refuse, shaking their heads and saying nothing.
“All children love cookies!” she said out loud, and then was surprised at the sound of her own voice.
She caught sight of something down there — she couldn’t make out what it was. She returned upstairs to get her flashlight. She found it in her junk drawer in the kitchen, but the battery was nearly dead. Still, it was enough to shine a weak beam down the stairs. She swept the beam back and forth and spied something on the third step from the bottom. One of her slippers! One of her own slippers that she’d carefully set beneath the chair in her bedroom when she’d gotten undressed last night. A percolating effervescence filled her skull. Had she been wearing her slippers when she’d gone downstairs last night? No, she remembered she was barefoot. How had it ended up here? And where was the other one?
The cats, she thought. Strange, but it must have been the cats.
She picked up the slipper and pressed it against her chest. She aimed the flashlight at the ceiling, where the old pipes ran like rough intestines. Everything seemed to be in order. She inhaled air through her nostrils, making a weak, whistling noise. She pushed down the handle on the door leading to the garage and the smell of oil hit her. She turned an ancient knob and the garage was filled with blinding fluorescent light. It shone over the car. She slid into the driver’s seat, shifted gears, and turned on the ignition. The motor started immediately. It had always been dependable. Hasse’s old cap was in its place as always, as if he’d just set it there, as if he’d just parked the car and was heading up to the kitchen for a cup of coffee.
A short scream resounded within her eardrums. It took a few seconds before she realized it came from herself.
“What am I doing?” she said out loud. She straightened up and heard her spine creak and pop.
She’d just turned off the motor when she heard footsteps above her on the main level. Her heart began to pound. She spied the axe in the corner. Nobody had used it after Hasse had passed away. She got out of the car, picked it up, and snuck back through the laundry room.
Yes, someone was upstairs, all right. She saw a pair of muddy shoes. She could taste iron in her mouth.
“Hello? Anyone up there?” she managed to croak.
“Mama!”
Relief spread through her like a warm wave. “Anneli? Is that you?”
Her daughter’s face was red and glowing. “What are you doing, Mama? Cutting wood?”
“No, well...”
“Why didn’t you pick up the phone? I’ve been calling over and over. I started to worry. You have to pick up the phone, Mama! You have to pick up when people call you!”
“I dropped it on the floor and it broke in half,” she said, suddenly remembering what had happened.
Anneli raised her shoulders. She was tense and stressed, standing in the middle of the hallway floor. “How could it break in half?”
“Go see for yourself.” She gestured toward the bedroom, but Anneli shook her head.
“I believe you. But now how am I supposed to reach you?”
“I’ll just have to buy a new phone.”
Anneli shook back her dry, henna-dyed hair. “No, I’ll take care of it. But I don’t have time this week.”
Maj stepped closer to her daughter to give her a hug. Just to show she loved her. They were still mother and daughter. They would always be mother and daughter. Until the end of time. But something in Anneli’s rigid stance made her draw back.
“I’ve got to get going.” Anneli glanced at the clock in the kitchen. “Is that the right time?”
Maj nodded.
“Mama, have you thought about it some more? You know...”
Maj’s stomach clenched. “About what?”
“Really, Mama, it would be so much easier for me if I knew you were all right. If I knew there was someone who could look in on you, someone who made you meals, and all the rest of it. You have to try to understand my side, Mama. I can’t just pick up and leave work when you don’t answer the phone. Things are difficult right now. There might be more layoffs.”
“Sweetie, you don’t have to worry about me, I’m doing just fine—”
“But for how long, Mama? How long? You have to think about the future too.”
“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”
Anneli grimaced. She looked tired and worn. Her jacket had frayed along the bottom edge.
“Wait a moment,” Maj said. She went into her bedroom and opened her linen cabinet. She moved a heap of pillows aside and took out a few hundred kronor from their hiding place. “Here. Take this and buy something nice for yourself. Spoil yourself a little.”
Anneli turned her face away and mumbled something Maj couldn’t hear.
Maj stuffed the bills into Anneli’s jacket pocket. “Go on, so your boss doesn’t get angry at you. I’ll be fine. I promise.”
Maj stayed inside all day. The cats too. They came out to sniff at their food bowls, but she never saw them eat. She wasn’t hungry either.
Anneli worked at Scania. She was one of the ones able to keep her job after the layoffs a few years back. Still, Anneli had had to take a wage cut. Johnny had also worked at Scania, which was where they’d met. He’d been one of the ones who lost his job.