On the other side of the tracks

Her eyes he would remember years after, how they could go from sunny and wide to dark and dull in an instant. He never knew when or why this happened but he was smart enough to understand that those dreams she had were connected to her eyes' chameleon qualities.

But that is in the future and this story is about the present. The brilliant, bright, burning present.

“Billy!” his mother’s voice was shrill. “Billy!” He rolled his eyes and yelled: What? “A spider!” His room was hot under the roof but at least he was alone. “Billy!” He sighed loudly and rolled out of bed. His mother stood in the middle of the kitchen floor and pointed to one of the corners. A big black spider clung to the ceiling. “Kill it,” she demanded and gave him the broom.  He swept the ceiling and hoped he would get the spider. If it didn’t die his mother would have him crawl around on the floor and look for it.

In June it had been great to come home from college. See his parents, sleep late, have dinner and hang out with his old friends. Now in August he started to long to go back. He missed the freedom of being away from everybody he knew. In that loneliness he had changed, perhaps it was called finding yourself.

The spider was a mush on the broom when he looked and his mother let out a satisfied sigh. He put the broom in the cabinet. “I’m going out.” His mother got that wrinkle between her eyes. “Will you be back for dinner?” He shrugged. “Probably not,” he said and pulled on his Converse.  “Are you seeing Tess?” His mother’s voice got that tone he didn’t really recognize every time she said Tess’s name. “Mm.” He pushed open the screen door but his mother got hold of his arm. “Is she really good for you?” His mother’s hair was frizzy from the humidity and she had a thousand freckles on her face now in the late summer. “She is older.” He shrugged. “She is…” his mother’s voice faded. He pulled his arm out of her grip and she let him go. “Be careful!” she called after him.

He walked down the street; the day was still hot even though it was after five. Some boys were playing street hockey and had to move when a car turned down the street.  His father was on the train by now coming home from the office. The office, the word made him cringe. He would never be able to put on a suit and sit in an office every day.

At the train tracks the gates were down, for a short moment he hesitated then he bent down and walked under them. The train blared the horn but he didn’t care. On the other side of the tracks the houses started to change. The Cape Cods from the forties disappeared and brick townhouses with stoops lined the wide street. His mother had grown up on this side of the town among first and second generation immigrants from Italy and Eastern Europe. The houses were still impressive but had started to look run down by now. After the riots of the sixties this part of town had never truly recuperated.

She sat on the stoop when he stopped in front of her house. She had a couple of take-out boxes from the Chinese place on the corner next to her and ate from one with a plastic fork. She looked at him as she chewed with her mouth full and when she had swallowed she smiled her crooked smile. “Are you here again?” Before he could answer she spoke. “Did you eat?” He shook his head and walked towards the stoop. “I have fried rice, fried shrimp and noodles.” She pointed to the different containers. “Fork is in the bag.” She pushed the white plastic bag with her foot. He sat down next to her. She smelled sweet, tea with milk in his grandmother’s kitchen in the winter or those pink roses that climbed his grandparent’s house in the summer.

 “How is your father?”, he asked. She made a few incoherent sounds of irritation before she swallowed . “You would think he could have the decency to die before school starts again.” The noodles had small pieces of egg stuck to them; he spun them around his fork and took a bite. Tess put down her box and reached behind her and brought out a bottle of Southern Comfort. She took a swig and gave him the bottle. First sweetness on his tongue then the burn down his throat. He grimaced. “You really have the worst taste in liquor.” She laughed, loud and clear.

The Chinese food was gone and half the bottle, she laid with her head in his lap on the porch swing. He slowly rocked them back and forth. The cicadas filled the evening with their whirring. “I wish I could just leave,” she said and made circles with her finger on his arm. Her touch was comfort and thrill in one. “I wish I wasn’t so good so I could just leave.” She walked her fingers up his arm and down again. “Billy,” she whispered. “Mm,” he whispered back. “Let’s go inside.” Her words rushed in his head, down his spine into his groin.

She slept in the small bedroom downstairs. The room that used to be her younger brother’s. The blonde haired, blue eyed angel who as a three year old had run out the door one day. Straight out in the street and instantly got hit by a car. He died two days later in the hospital. “It never was the same again, she often said with a flat voice. But now the room was hers. Her smell, her things, her persona. She stood in front of him in her blue dress and she pulled it over her head. The skin around her breast shone white in the evening light. The tan line as sharp as a marker line. “Come.” She took his hand in hers and pulled him close. Her skin was so warm, so soft against his. Her arms were around his neck. Her lips on his. She nibbled on his bottom lip. His body reacted immediately. She purred under his touch. Slithered under his tongue. Curved under his weight.  He melted into her, surrendered.

Sleep was about to bring him under when Tess whimpered in her sleep. She laid with her head on his arm and one hand across his chest. Her hand twitched and she whimpered again. Suddenly she sat up and he was wide awake. “Are you ok?” he whispered in the dark. She didn’t respond so he put his hand on her back. Her whole body jerked under his touch and she moved away from his hand. “What is wrong, Tess?” She laid down again, curled up against the wall and seemed to be deep in sleep. Then another whimper, a thin, childlike whimper filled with fear and pain. Then another, and another and she started to breathe fast and shallow. Billy sat up, didn’t know if he should try to comfort. Reached out his hand put pulled it back, afraid he would only make it worse. Make whatever was haunting her more real. The feeling of being inadequate and powerless was a soggy stone in his body as he listened to Tess’s cry filled breaths.

A woman called out a man’s name on the street and Tess stopped hyperventilating. He relaxed an inch.  The woman called out one more time and Tess moved a little, she pushed away from the wall and turned over. He heard how she patted the bed and searched for him. When her hand found his thigh where he was sitting she got up on her elbow. “Why are you sitting there?” she asked sleepy. He took hold of her hand, her palm was sweaty. “I am watching over you.” She sniggered. “What is that supposed to mean?” She moved closer and put her head on his leg. He caressed her bare back. “Don’t you remember?” She yawned widely and moved a little closer. “Remember what?” Her body was so relaxed against his. “You cried,” he said but she didn’t answer. “Maybe it was a dream.” A tension went through her body. “Did I hurt you?” The question surprised him. “No, no not all. You were hyperventilating and I worried about you. I didn’t know what to do.” She laid still on his leg, he could tell how she was thinking. “Sometimes...” she started and then the phone rang. “What the fuck?” She sat up, the phone rang again and again. “Maybe it is the hospital,” he said and she jumped out of bed, ran out and slammed the door behind her.

As he heard her muffled voice he started to get dressed, suddenly his nakedness felt awkward and out of place. As he pulled his t-shirt over his head he heard the door open. Tess stood in the doorway. She had an odd expression on her face. A mix of surprise, sadness and relief. “Was it the hospital?” She nodded and took two steps into the room. Her arms hung by her side and her hair was unruly. “I guess I am supposed to go in, right?” Her voice uncertain. “What happened…did he…” She looked up at him; her eyes were huge, glossy, and empty. “He…his…he…his heart gave up.” Her bottom lip trembled and he put his hand on her shoulder and pulled her close. She sobbed a few times then she grew quiet. “It is ok to cry,” he said into her hair. She smelled of their closeness, their tenderness, their passion. “I know,” she said quietly, then she pulled away from him. “I…I have to go. I am supposed to go.”

He watched as she opened the closet and pulled out a few dresses, she put them on the bed and then she opened her dresser and pulled out tights. “The hospital is so freaking cold,” she said and smiled at him. On top of the tights she put a dark dress with white flowers. She French braided her hair then she sat down on the bed. ” I will take a cab from Main Street.” He nodded. “I don’t know when I will be back...”her words stopped short. “I can come back tomorrow.” She shrugged. “I might need to sleep,” her voice was very soft and polite but he got the message. “Ok,” he said, “I will come back some other day.” She stood up and grabbed her bag. “Good.”

He watched as she walked up the street, she looked very determined as she walked with her back straight and head held high. He wanted to go after her, hold her hand, be with her at the hospital but he had a feeling she wouldn’t want him there. But he stood still and looked after her until he couldn’t see her anymore.

His parents were sleeping when he came home. He went to the bathroom, brushed his teeth, and drank from the tap. When he looked in the mirror he saw long red streaks down his arm from Tess’s nails and for a reason he didn’t even know he started to cry.

Thunder woke him up, the room was shady, his head heavy. He laid and listened to the rain.  It started slow but it soon  pounded the roof. It was past ten in the morning, his father was gone for hours and his mother was working today. He had the house to himself. He rolled to the side, closed his eyes and tried to will himself to fall asleep again. His mind dove down into slumber but was abruptly brought back up when fire trucks came down the street. Not one, but several. The sound stirred something inside of him. Something worrisome. A premonition.

The rain was coming down hard as he ran down the street. Lightning cut across the navy blue clouds. He slipped on the tracks but got up and kept running. The fire trucks, he counted to five, were parked outside Tess’s house. Flames were licking the windows on the top floor. Smoke was rising through the roof. People had gathered on the street, stared, whispered. He tried to run up to the house. What if she was sleeping? A broad shouldered firefighter put a hand to his chest and stopped him. “Can’t go in there, son.” He tried to move past the hand, move past the uniform but no use. “She might be sleeping,” he said and his voice was shaking. “In the small bedroom on the first floor.” The fireman looked down at him with curious eyes. “I had the smoke divers in there already. No one is in the house. Do you know the family?” Billy shook his head. “No, only Tess.” The fireman put his hand on Billy’s shoulder. “She is not in there.”

He backed away from the house, stood by the other spectators, heard the whispers.

“The father is in the hospital”

“I heard he died last night.”

 “Where are the boys?”  

“That girl…”

Billy turned and looked at the woman who said the last thing. She was probably around sixty, her hair in a typical old lady style. Her mouth a disapproving line.

“I know,” the woman next to her said. “Something wrong with that girl.”

A third lady leaned closer. She had straight grey hair in a bob.

“After little Tommy died…and the mother left…not easy for that girl.”

“The mother was crazy too,” the first woman said.

Billy felt the blood pumping. He bit down hard on his teeth. Wanted to yell at the women.  The woman in the bob looked at him. She put her head to the side, squinted a little, pondered.

“You know Tess,” she said and the other two women turned their heads and stared at him.

He nodded. It looked like they were waiting for him to say something. He took a few steps backwards, and then he turned and walked home. He waited that day, and the next, and the next…then school started and eventually he stopped waiting.

One time at Disneyland, many years later. He had his three year old son on his shoulder and he saw this woman with a little girl. They sat on a bench, their heads close together, talking to each other, it was something about the shape of the woman’s shoulders. Or the way she held her head or how the hair hung over the little girl’s forehead. He wasn’t sure but he thought it was her. She must have sensed his eyes because she lifted her head and looked at him. Then she smiled her crooked smile. He wanted to talk to her. Ask how she was. Where she had been. But at that moment his wife called for him and his son pointed in excitement at Mickey Mouse. The next time he looked they were gone. 

Troll Gold

Summer had arrived suddenly the day before, in the afternoon to be more exact. In the morning they had huddled in groups outside the grand, old church dressed in their fine clothes. The girls wore dresses and skirts in the grey, chilly morning. Jenny had stared with envy at the boys in their suit pants and had pulled on her cardigan so it would cover her hands. Of course she didn’t know that her goose bumped legs would one day be part of a treasured memory. Jenny didn’t think of things like that, she was only nine and she couldn’t wait for the long summer break to begin.

In the afternoon a little before 2:30, Jenny’s mother had stood on the porch with the traditional end of school year strawberry shortcake. She had sighed, looked at the grey skies and thought to herself; I guess we have to sit here this year and not in the arbor. The arbor was made up of gigantic lilac bushes and in the middle the family often sat in the summer. She put the cake on the table on the porch and almost like magic the clouds broke apart and the sun came out. The temperature rose quickly and the afternoon treat was swiftly moved outside. 

Now it was Saturday evening and Jenny lay on her stomach on her parent’s bed watching her mother working the curling iron in her dark blonde hair. The window was open and in with the soft summer breeze drifted the scent of lilacs.

“Do I need more in the back?” Her mother turned her head and tried to look in the mirror.

“No, it looks pretty,” Jenny said and rolled over onto her back. The evening sun shone through the lace curtains and made patterns on the white ceiling. She heard how her mother put down the curling iron and unplugged it. Then she heard her starting to look for something in her jewelry box. Her fingers made a slight raking noise.

“Where are my pearl earrings?” Some more raking noise. “I don’t understand. Where are they?”

The patterns on the ceiling looked like ships now.

“Maybe the trolls took them,” she said absentmindedly. “Farmor says trolls are little thieves.”

The raking noise stopped. She could feel how her mother sat down on the side of the bed.

“Jenny,” her mother said and put a hand on her arm. “We have talked about this. You know that farmor is sick. She says things. Things that aren’t real.”

Jenny nodded, the pattern on the ceiling looked like fish now.

“Oh, I think your cousins are here.”

Jenny already knew that, she had heard the car coming up the graveled road for a few minutes.

 

The cousins; Maria thirteen years old with braces, breasts and brown hair and Karl ten years old who everybody called Kalle. Jenny’s older sister Pernilla took Maria under her arm and the two girls disappeared upstairs.

“Pernilla,” her mother screamed upstairs. “Pernilla!” She looked over at Jenny’s aunt. “That girl…that girl is driving me insane. Where is Stig? Stig!”

Jenny knew that her father stood out by her uncle’s car and talked about hunting woodcocks but instead of saying anything she took Kalle by the arm and steered him into the kitchen. On the counter were three bags; one with potato chips, one with cheese doodles and one with candy. Last night she and Pernilla had walked down to the gas station and bought them. They had argued about the candy for a long time before they could agree on what to buy. They only had so much money, so every piece counted.

“Let’s fill two bowls and bring them out to the porch. Pappa and I made a fort out there for us to sleep in tonight.”

Jenny filled a big bowl with chips and cheese doodles and Kalle filled a smaller one with candy.

On the porch, under the table covered in a big blanket the two children sat together and munched.

“Jenny! Kalle! Where are you?” Pappa’s voice came from outside the porch.

“We are in here in the fort,” Jenny called out,  crawled to the other side of the porch and stood up by the open window. “Pappa! Here!”

He turned around by the arbor and came back to the porch.

“We are leaving now. I talked to Pernilla and she promised to be nice. We will be back around midnight.” He planted a kiss on his palm and reached up so she could pretend to grab it and put it in her pocket.  “Use it for bedtime,” he said and left.

The June light lingered, the blue dusk would be replaced by the navy blue night for a few hours and then the birds would start singing again and the sun would rise. Jenny and Kalle laid in the fort with yellow orange cheese doodle fingers and black licorice tongues. Her father’s kiss to use for bedtime was still in her pocket even though hours had passed since the clock struck eight in the living room. They heard music from Pernilla’s room but they hadn’t seen the older girls since they went upstairs before their parents left for the barn dance.

“Do you know what I think is strange?” Kalle shook his head, his mouth was filled with candy. “That farmor says trolls are real. Fröken says that giants threw those big rocks on the fields and that the mountain is called Troll Mountain because a troll used to live there.” Kalle chewed and listened. “But mamma says that farmor is sick and says things that aren’t real….is Fröken sick too?” Kalle swallowed and turned to his stomach, reaching for another piece of candy.

“Fröken can’t be sick…then they wouldn’t let her work in school…I think at least.” He put the candy in his mouth.

“Mamma’s pearl earrings are missing. I said it could be the trolls but she didn’t believe me. You know how farmor always say that trolls are little thieves.”

“My mamma says there are fairies in the fog on the meadow.”

“Why do they say different things? It is so strange!”

She stuffed some chips in her mouth, mostly little crumbles left now. Licked her fingers one by one and yawned. She put her head on the pillow. Kalle was quiet, she was quiet.  The only thing she heard was the faint music and the blackbird who always sat in the birch tree and sang at night.  She yawned again; she could easily fall asleep now but first she had to pee.

“I will go and pee,” she said and crawled out of the fort. Kalle didn’t respond, he was probably sleeping already. She stood on the porch and looked into the house through the door. To walk all the way into the house to pee felt so far. She took the three steps over to the porch door and opened it. She would squat in the grass and be back in her sleeping bag in less than a minute.

The grass under her bare feet was cold; she shivered and pulled up her shoulders. She held one hand on the stone stairs as she squatted. The stone step was still warm from the bright sun and smooth under her hand. Something was rummaging about over by the arbor. She squinted and tried to see. Probably Sixten, the cat, who was looking for a mouse or a vole.

“Sixten,” she called softly. “Come here kitty. Kitty, kitty.”

The rummaging stopped but Sixten didn’t show up. Oh, she got scared, what if it was a badger? They were dangerous; they keep biting until your bones crunch.  She stood quickly and leaped up the stairs. The badger came out from the bushes, stopped and turned towards her. Then it happened. The moment was as slow as refrigerated syrup. The badger stood up. The badger had arms and legs and a head with wild bushy hair. Jenny blinked hard, blinked again. The…the…the…she didn’t know what word to use, it stood there and looked at her. Then it turned around and bounded away. A skinny tail was the last thing she saw before it climbed up the old stone wall and disappeared. If she hadn’t just peeped she would have peed her pants.

“Kalle! Kalle!” She shook his feet in the sleeping bag. “You have to wake up.”

“What?” He pulled his feet away from her hands.  “I am tired. I want to sleep.”

“But Kalle.” She pulled on his feet. “I saw something. A…a…a  troll.” Yes, now she was sure it was a troll. A small furry little one.

Kalle grunted something and curled up.

“We have to see where it went.”

“Ufff,” Kalle said.

“If you are not going I am going by myself.”

Kalle shuffled his feet around for a moment and then he poked his head out from underneath the table.

“Out where? In the woods in the dark?”

She nodded and looked sternly at him.

“Well, maybe I will bring Lolo with me.” The thought of the dog gave her comfort. “Yes, I will bring Lolo and I am leaving now.”

She grabbed her jeans, pulled them on and then she walked into the house. In the kitchen the foxhound came up to her with ticky tocky claws against the hard floor.

“We are going to the woods,” Jenny said and petted the dog. The tail started waging and the dog licked her hand. She took a chair, pushed it against the counter and reached up to the cabinet. She found the flash light and tested it in the kitchen. Even though the night wasn’t completely dark yet she knew the woods would be darker.

She leashed the dog and made her way back to the porch. Kalle was standing by the door.

“If you are going I am coming with you.”

 

Lolo walked first. She was happy to be out with her favorite human. A slightly odd time perhaps but the day had been so warm she had spent most of it lying in the shade under the hedge. It was good to stretch her legs. She looked behind her. The girl had a flash light and the boy was only a step or two behind the girl. Lolo liked the other humans too but this one, the smallest one, was special to her. They had been puppies together a long time ago. Strange, humans stayed puppies forever. She was now a grown, close to aging dog. She had felt it this past winter; the hunting instinct was still a fever in her blood but her muscles weren’t as strong anymore. And to come home and rest by the fire had been a respite. A leisurely walk like this one she always liked.

 They had crossed the meadow and now they entered the woods. Lolo put her nose to the ground; smelled the grass, the dirt and the tall ferns. Lifted her head and breathed in. A fox had crossed here not long ago and she thought she smelled a hedgehog a little further along the path. The children talked behind her, she could hear something in their voices, a faint echo of fear from the boy but mostly excitement from the girl. Something was different in the woods tonight, Lolo wasn’t sure if it was because of the darkness but she could sense slight vibrations in the ground. She took another deep breath. The unfamiliar scent hit her, human and animal in one. No, not human. No, not animal. The hairs on her back stood up, the growl filled her body and she stopped on the trail.

“What is it Lolo?” the girl said and put a hand on her back. “Do you see something?”

“Let’s go home!” the boy said and his voice was shaky.

The girl sat down next to her, put an arm around her shoulders and shined the flashlight into the darkness under the ferns.

“What is it Lolo?”

She growled deeper, the unfamiliar scent was coming closer, she could hear the movement. Small feet were moving slowly and carefully over the ground. Then she saw it. As tall as her but on two feet. Big eyes in a round face. Spiky hair on the top of its head and smooth fur on the rest of the body. And it spoke. She was sure it spoke but it didn’t open its mouth but she heard words in her head. Soft, soft, soft words. Human voice but different words. “Ho ay ay ay ay buff. Ho ay ay ay ay buff. Ho ay ay ay ay buff buff. Ho ay ay ay ay buff.”

 

She was warm, sweaty on her face and back. She tried to push down her blanket but she couldn’t. She was trapped in something. Scared, she opened her eyes. Above her were planks and something orange. She blinked and tried to focus. When her eyes began to adjust she saw that the orange was the blanket she and pappa had put up yesterday on top of the table. She was lying in her sleeping bag on the porch. She turned to her side and saw Kalle sleeping deeply with his face pressed into the pillow. A strange feeling resided in her body. Her brain felt fuzzy and her limbs heavy. All she wanted to do was to lie down again and sleep but she was too hot so she crawled out of the fort and walked into the house.

Mamma was sitting by the kitchen table with a crossword and a cup of coffee.

“Sleeping beauty,” she said when she saw Jenny. “Do you want some breakfast?”

Jenny sat down on a chair and looked over at the kitchen clock. 10:30 in the morning. She had never slept this late in her whole life.

“Where are pappa and Pernilla?”

“Pappa is out with Lolo…did you play a lot with her last night? He had to drag her out of the house.” Her mother put some bread into the toaster. “Pernilla is still sleeping of course.”

Jenny felt confused, she thought she remembered that they had taken Lolo with them out to the woods last night but the memory was as faint as a dream. The bread jumped out of the toaster and her mother put it on a plate.

“You know what is strange?” Her mother opened the fridge; she brought out the milk, the butter and the cheese. “I found my pearl earrings here on the table when we came back last night. Did you find them?”

Jenny buttered her toast, sliced some cheese and took a bite. Had she found the earrings? She remembered that Kalle and her had eaten candy, chips and cheese doodles until it was almost dark. Then she went out to pee….after that it was murkier.

“No,” she said and took another bite. “I didn’t find the earrings. Ask Pernilla, maybe she borrowed them.”

Her mother smiled at her.

“Yes, you are probably right.” Then her mother narrowed her eyes and looked at her. “What is that you have in your hair?” She reached out and plucked something from her head. “A piece of fern. How odd.”