Chapter Text
Inappropriate conduct
The surroundings passed by in a blur outside the bus window. Masses of spruce trees mixed with the occasional birch on a country road that seemed never ending. Hannie leant his head against the window as the bus turned onto a smaller road, and bumps in the asphalt had the side of his head slam against the glass. Yeah, hit me, he thought. I deserve it.
There weren’t many people on the bus, but it still had to make its round into every little town and village, only sparsely letting someone on or off. Outside, it was getting warmer, as the sun went high into the sky. This should have been a beautiful day at the height of summer, if things weren’t shit, if Hannie’s life hadn’t crumbled in front of his eyes. What do I do, he thought. He closed his eyes, as his temple kept bumping against the window. What on earth do I do?
He saw his parents’ faces in his mind, as his father’s voice went loud. He’d never had a serious disagreement with them before, he’d never seen his dad with that mixture of anger and desperation on his face. Neither had he seen his mom’s eyes that dejected, filled with sorrow and fear, like he’d just ruined all of their lives.
Where do I go, he thought as the forest kept flashing by. If he’d go to a bigger city, could he live there? Gothenburg was the final destination of the bus, and he’d never visited that city, not once in his life. What would he do if he went there to stay? Take day jobs in the harbour? He scoffed at the stupidity while panic built in his chest. He’d have to talk to people to find a hostel, and the money he’d brought might not even cover for one night’s stay.
He closed his eyes. If he’d go to Gothenburg, the bus ride would take hours. Maybe he should try to sleep… Closing his eyes, he didn’t want to think, but what else was there to do?
*
In the evening on the day before, Hannie had entered the house after visiting his grandparents to help them out with stuff at home. The hallway was still and quiet, there were no sounds of movement, no voices to be heard. As he lifted his head, he saw his parents sitting next to each other at the kitchen table, looking at him with severe faces, and he almost winced.
“Johannes, we need to have a word with you,” his dad said. “Come sit down.”
The use of his first name was not a good sign. That was reserved for serious conversations and when he’d done something wrong. Glancing at his mother’s face, he saw that her lips were pale and her cheeks stiff. Trying to collect himself, Hannie entered and sat down across of them both. He almost didn’t dare looking at his dad, but then, it was his mother who started speaking.
“I got a call from Arvid’s mother, today, and she…” Her voice trailed off, as if she found this extremely challenging to bring up. A small alarm bell started to go off in Hannie’s chest. Arvid, and Arvid’s mom… Arvid’s mom had called. Why?
“She said that Arvid had told her that…” his mother drew a deep breath, all while her face tainted scarlet, “you had been… touching improperly.” Now, his mom looked like she was almost dying from having to let those words touch her lips, and Hannie took a punch to his gut, losing his breath. Did she say… they’d been touching improperly, and Arvid—he’d told his parents? Why? Why?
Hannie’s mind went into such a spin he almost couldn’t sit straight, his brain throwing out a staccato of defences. Arvid was the one who asked me. He said it wasn’t that bad. He told me to keep it a secret. None of these words could be said out loud. Hannie tried to breathe calmly, stopping himself from going into panic.
“I… I didn’t mean to…” was all that came out of his mouth. Then he bowed down, deeply. “I didn’t mean to do it, mom, dad, please… I’m sorry.” His voice was staggering, and he could feel all blood leaving his face, going to his limbs, making him prepared to run.
“You’re asking us for forgiveness, but you know that’s not how it works. The only way to salvation is through the Lord, our saviour—you know that.” His father’s voice was calm, but behind it, it seemed like he was about to work himself up. “This is so unacceptable I can’t even fathom I’m having this conversation. You…” He shook his head in disbelief. “This is worse than anything I could ever have imagined, and to be honest, we’re so shocked we hardly know what to do… since she called, we have been praying, and we have spoken to the pastor… and he says that the only way to handle it, is for you to do repentance tomorrow, during morning service.”
Hannie’s mouth fell open. “Tomorrow… you mean… in front of the congregation?”
“In front of the congregation, yes. You’ll ask the Lord to forgive your sins.”
“I… I can’t do that.” The words came out before he had a chance to think. Standing in front of everyone, his own head hung in shame, while the pastor was speaking about unrighteousness, then asking for forgiveness for giving in to the flesh, or something similarly vague, that would still tell everyone he’d done something completely out of line… that would kill him.
The flicker in his father’s eyes almost had him leave his body. “You don’t have a say.” His voice went loud. “We’re trying to save you, save us all, but you know that’s not really in our power—only the Lord can. And then, you must understand that you don’t talk back. What you do is go to your room and ask the Lord for forgiveness, you repent for doing unrighteous deeds, you study the Epistle to the Romans, and you pray the Lord to have mercy on your soul, since you are young and your mind has been misled. That’s what you do, and your mother and I will be praying, too.” His father’s face was so red the colour spread to his neck. “I don’t want to see your face until we leave for church tomorrow. Do you understand me?”
Hannie staggered up the stairs. Inside his room, he fell to his knees on the floor, leaning against the knitted bedspread, weaving his fingers to tightly together they went white, pressing his hands to his chest. A strange sound came out of his mouth as he started crying, his lungs heaving, tears pouring from his eyes.
“Forgive me,” he cried, “oh, Lord, please forgive me. Forgive me. Please. I lost my way.”
What had he done? How could he bring such shame onto his family, onto himself, for a brief moment of exhilaration? He kept sobbing, mumbling his requests.
“Please, dear Lord, I’m still untouched, please, I didn’t…” His throat ached, and he whispered since he didn’t want anyone else to hear. Then sobs rinsed through his body again. What did it matter—he’d had Arvid give in to lust, he was the cause of this, there was no use in trying to deny that. He’d… oh, no. He pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes, but the tears wouldn’t stop. Leaning against the bedspread, he whined quietly as snot and tears made wet spots on the fabric.
Best friends
It wasn’t the first time he’d slept over at Arvid’s house—they’d been friends for seven years—but it was the first time since they both ended their military service. It was the first time in a long while they’d slept in the same bed, and also… Hannie started sweating and nausea spread throughout his body.
He’d been so happy to be able to spend time with Arvid again. Both of them had done civil duty, but Arvid had been placed in another city, while Hannie had been able to stay at home, working in an office in his home town. He’d been completely unprepared for the loss he’d felt while Arvid was away—Hannie had missed Arvid in a physical sense, his being cut in half, and time had slowed down, all while yearning filled his body. Arvid had been home on some weekends, but they hadn’t been able to hang out as before. Now, when Arvid was back, they could finally spend time together again. This sunny Saturday, they’d hung out the full day, going swimming, jumping from the diving platform, playing badminton, even though Hannie sucked at it, and in the evening, they’d had dinner with Arvid’s parents and sister, played Risk with Arvid’s dad, and then, they’d brushed their teeth and gone upstairs to sleep.
Arvid’s room was small, containing a narrow bed, a tiny desk and a chair, a book shelf with a few books, trophies from sports competitions, and some old toys. A typical boys room, even though Arvid wasn’t a teenager anymore—he’d turned twenty in April. Next to Arvid’s bed, they’d put up a camp bed, the kind you can fold together to stow away. Hannie had used it every time he slept over, and its mattress had become flattened, the spring system worn out. Arvid had to climb over it to get to his own bed. His hay coloured hair was getting long, and he brushed some curls out of his face before he laid down.
Hannie climbed onto the camp bed in his striped pyjama, and the spring system gave out such a loud creak they both started laughing.
“Every time you move, you’ll wake the house,” Arvid giggled. “Do you think that’s kind of a built in alarm system… to keep people from doing, you know…” He raised his eyebrows.
Hannie made a face at him, lifting the blanket to lie down, and the springs creaked even louder. Arvid laughed hysterically, as Hannie started bouncing up and down, having the bed scream.
When Arvid calmed a little, he said, “I’d rather you sleep in my bed… that sound will render us both sleepless.”
Hannie looked at Arvid, his shimmering light blue eyes, the wide smile. Since their exam from high school, Arvid had done his military service as a fire-fighter, and his lean body had become sturdier, his jawline more prominent. The boyish Arvid, Hannie’s best friend through middle school and high school, had at least in part given way to a man, and Hannie didn’t know what to do with that. It made him want to stay close to Arvid’s body, inhaling his scent an extra time.
Obviously, that bed was too narrow for two people, but Hannie had to admit, sharing a bed with Arvid sounded tempting, not only because of the sound environment… As he responded, his mouth had become strangely dry. “All right.”
He climbed over to Arvid’s bed, and Arvid lifted the covers for him to lie next to him. The bed was so slim, they immediately tucked close. Arvid’s body was firm and warm, and as he put the blanket over them both, it got very hot.
Arvid moved a little. “My arm… it won’t fit. Can I put it behind your neck?”
They were already lying so close an arm wrapping around him wouldn’t make any difference, so Hannie nodded and lifted his head, making way for Arvid’s arm. Then he leaned his head against it.
“Cozy.”
“Mm. But a little warm. Maybe I just…” Arvid wriggled free again, drew the pyjama jacket over his head and tossed it aside. “You could do that, too. Otherwise, you’ll get too hot.”
“Mm.” Hannie’s heart had started beating faster. He’d seen Arvid without clothes many times, they’d been in the dressing room in school, they’d bathed in the lake, they’d taken their shirts off on hot summer days… and Hannie’d never cared about Arvid’s naked skin back then, but now, suddenly he did. A jingle inside of him told him that taking off his pyjama jacket now was not the same thing as when he’d thrown his t-shirt off by the lake… but he still said to himself it was. He sat up and peeled it off. Arvid held his arm out for him to rest his head on, and they settled back down, their torsos brushing. Hannie’s skin prickled with goosebumps from the touch, and Arvid put a hand on his hip underneath the blanket. The skin of Arvid’s chest was soft, a patch of thin hair was growing on it, and Hannie’s breathing started coming slow. A certain body part started to stiffen in his pyjama pants, and his cheeks tinted pink. He felt hot, his muscles dull and his breathing was coming from deep in his abdomen.
Arvid caught his gaze. “Hannie,” he said, his voice lower than usually. “Do you ever, like… touch yourself?”
Hannie’s eyes went wide. Was Arvid really asking him that? That was… a subject way off limits, wasn’t it? But Arvid’s eyes were so serious, so probing, he wanted to give him an answer. “Yeah, I mean, I sometimes do. I know it’s wrong, but I… at times, it’s hard to resist...” The body part in question went even harder as they spoke, and Hannie felt like he was holding his breath. “Do you?”
Arvid licked his lips. “I really try not to, but sometimes I have to, because if I don’t, it’s gonna come out anyway, you know?”
“Mm. I know.” And then you hide the pyjama pants deep in the laundry basket and hope no one notices, he thought.
They lay completely still, their breathing slow and deep. Arvid’s gaze sought out Hannie’s. “When you do it, how… how do you… touch yourself?”
“Oh…” Hannie’s cheeks flushed red. “I don’t think I can tell you that.”
“No… but, could you maybe… show me? Like, touch me?”
Hannie blinked a few times. Arvid’s eyes were filled with yearning, and Hannie swallowed. He really wanted to touch him, but…
“Hannie…” Arvid’s voice was close to a whisper, “if you’re already doing it to yourself, then this is not much worse, is it?”
It is, though, his mind said, but another part of him wanted what Arvid said to be the truth. As he moved his hand ever so slightly, Arvid took it and pulled it towards his own crotch. Hannie cupped his cock, gasping at the sensation. It felt hot and hard underneath the fabric, and Arvid sighed. “Ah, Hannie…” he whispered.
Hannie traced the contours of Arvid’s dick, the shaft, the head and balls, then grabbed around it through the fabric, pinching lightly around the rim. When he did this to himself, he was full of shame, trying to release as quickly as possible, trying not to fantasise, but if he would, a situation like this would be what he’d imagine. Arvid was so beautiful, his smile so wide, and his erratic breathing so hot. Arvid squirmed underneath his hand, and Hannie was too horny to feel ashamed—all he wanted was to feel the skin of Arvid’s cock against his hand.
“Take off the pants,” Hannie whispered, and Arvid wriggled the pyjama pants off his body. Hannie threw a glance at Arvid’s cock. It was sturdy and thick, shorter than his own, the head big and glistening. His stomach coiled and his own cock twitched in his pants. Moving a little closer, Hannie grabbed around Arvid’s length. The skin was smooth and soft against his palm, and he started stroking. The tip was already releasing a clear drop, and after jerking for a while, he spread it over the head with his fingers. This was so hot he felt like he was about to burst, and Arvid was breathing in short gasps. He jerked steadily, the way he would have done with himself, going faster, and small whimpers came out of Arvid’s mouth. His body was moving, countering Hannie’s movements, his hips bucking. Hannie kept the pace while his own cock pounded, and he longed to touch himself, his heart beating.
“Oh, I’m… I’m coming…” Arvid’s cock twitched, his body spasmed and he released, cum spilling over Hannie’s hand, and Hannie kept stroking, smearing it, as Arvid trembled from the orgasm. “Ahh, that felt so good, Hannie, so good…”
As Arvid came down a little, he reached for a roll of paper next to the bed. He rolled some off and handed to Hannie, then took some for himself, wiping the cum off his stomach.
He threw the paper in the bin, then looked Hannie in the eye. “Want me to… do the same to you?”
Now, Hannie didn’t want anything but that—still, he shook his head, his cheeks burning. He couldn’t let anyone watch him do such a shameful thing, that wasn’t something to share, not even with his beautiful best friend, even though he’d just jerked him off. “I… I can’t,” he said in a weak voice.
Arvid blinked a few times, then lay back, his head on the pillow. Two red spots formed on his cheeks. “Because it’s wrong.”
Hannie swallowed. “Yeah, but I mean, I don’t think…”
“No… you’re right. It’s wrong. We shouldn’t have done it.” Arvid’s voice had taken on a tone of desperation, pitching a little higher. He exhaled. “Why did we have to do it?”
Hannie’s heart started beating again, this time from worry. He lay on his back, looking up into the ceiling. Yeah, why had they done this? It was so far from okay that Hannie didn’t know if he’d even be able to look Arvid in the eye again… but Arvid turned to him, and he had to meet his gaze.
“You won’t, like, tell anyone, right?”
“No. Of course not.”
“For real. Not anyone.”
“I won’t.”
They lay next to each other, but Hannie had a sense that if the other bed hadn’t creaked that badly, he would’ve moved over there, because he felt like Arvid wanted to distance himself from him. Arvid rolled over, lying with his back against Hannie, and Hannie lay on his back, having a hard time falling asleep. What had happened? He couldn’t grasp how he, from out of nowhere, had ended up wanting to have sex with his best friend.
“God please forgive me, I will never do it again”, Hannie whimpered as he leant against the bed. “You don’t have to save me as long as you have mercy on my family.”
He cried and prayed until he couldn’t keep his eyes open, and then he took his clothes off and went to bed without brushing his teeth. Wrapping the blanket around his body, all he could think was that he didn’t want to wake up in the morning… but asking for something like that would be a sin in itself.
Leave
The morning light had him arise from sleep. He hadn’t drawn the curtains yesterday, and sunlight was already coming in through the window. Checking the time, it was five thirty. He sat up and drew his hands through his hair, as the weight of yesterday came falling over him, filling his chest with dread. Today. I will have to, I’m going to have to… He shook his head. I can’t do that.
He stood up, then paced over to the wardrobe and pulled out a duffle bag. He put his bible and notebook down first, then went on to methodically filling it with a few sets of clothes, a book he’d planned to read, his address book, one of his old teddy bears that he’d saved, a towel and a pair of shorts. Then he went to the bathroom and picked out the necessities, stuffing those in the bag too. Lastly, he opened the plug at the bottom of the piggy bank, having coins and banknotes falling out onto the rug. “Shh, piggy, don’t wake them up.”
The banknotes and some of the coins went into his wallet and the rest into a plastic bag that he put in the bag.
If he couldn’t do it, then he had to leave. There was no other choice.
He snuck down the stairs, taking on his black boat shoes and a thin jacket. He considered taking an umbrella, but it hadn’t rained in a long time, so he skipped it. He glanced into the kitchen, at the brown table, the painted wooden bench by the window, the cupboards… he’d stayed in this house since they moved here when he was thirteen, but now he was leaving, and he didn’t know when, or even if, he would return.
“Goodbye,” he whispered, then opened the door slowly. The sun was shining, the street was completely calm, and not a single soul could be seen on this Sunday in July.
*
The bus came back to the main road and went for a long while. As Hannie looked out the window, a road sign appeared. Villinge, 12 kilometers. Villinge. He knew that place—he’d been there a few times when he was a child, since his mom’s cousin Violet had a summer house there. His family hadn’t visited for almost ten years, and he’d heard that the cousin moved to Dalarna and wasn’t staying in the cottage a lot anymore. Hannie had fond memories of that place. It was situated at the forest edge, meadows in one direction, thick spruce forest in the other. A narrow trail led to a small but deep lake with a tiny jetty. On hot summer days, mist would emanate from the ground, and the trail would fill up with hordes of the tiniest frogs you could imagine, dark brown and sprawling as Hannie captured them.
I have nothing planned, nothing decided. I could go there and see if that cottage still exists. It would be nice to see it again.
Closing in on Villinge bus station, Hannie pulled the string telling the driver to stop, and as the vehicle halted, he threw his bag over the shoulder and stepped outside. It was still long until noon, but the sun shot hot beams at his body. The jacket felt too warm, so he pulled it off and stuffed it in the bag. Now, I could get sun glasses, he thought, I have to check if there’s somewhere I could buy some… The next second, he realised he’d have to hold on to the little money he’d got.
The next challenge would be to find the cottage. A little further down the road, a yellow house with a sign on top told him that this was the village’s general store. Hannie had vague memories of walking back and forth to that store, buying groceries and ice cream. Maybe he’d saved the directions in his memory. He started walking. The main street of Villinge consisted of the store, a gas station, a small clothes shop and some fairly new yellow brick houses. A little further away, close to the three lakes, lay the old Villinge, a gathering of red wooden houses with a church at the center and an old graveyard on the other side of the road.
As he came closer to the store, its front door stood open, and he saw someone sitting at the picnic bench outside of it, smoking. It was a guy his own age, maybe a little older. His hair was dark brown and strands fell over his forehead and the collar of his checkered shirt. His shirt was open, showing a printed t-shirt underneath. The sleeves were rolled up and the forearms tan. The guy looked up, meeting his gaze and a curious glint flickered. Hannie wanted to look away, but that would be strange, so he nodded and kept walking. As he came closer, the corner of the guy’s lips lifted.
“Morning,” he said, his voice slow.
It wasn’t really morning any longer, was it? “Morning.”
Hannie’s face flushed. In the countryside, people greeted each other, he knew that, but it still felt odd to address someone he didn’t know, especially when it was an extremely good-looking guy.
“Nice day, huh,” the guy said as Hannie’d already passed, and he turned around, slightly startled.
“Mm, yeah, it is.”
Continuing along the road, it turned out to be as he’d hoped—he didn’t have to think. He passed the old village, heading straight for the cottage. There were a few cars parked by the church, maybe there was a service. As he kept following the road, he saw almost no one, other than the occasional car passing, and someone collecting the newspaper from their mailbox.
At the junction where he’d turn was a small wooden sign. The painted text had worn off, but the arrow was still pointing to the cottage. He followed the gravel road for a hundred meters, and there it was, Falun red with white trim. It was even smaller than he remembered. Next to it was a shed, also painted in red, and then, the outhouse. That was the level of convenience found at this place—but if things were still as before, there’d at least be running water inside, albeit cold.
There wasn’t any car parked by the cottage, and the house itself seemed completely abandoned. Someone had mowed the lawn some time ago, so there was someone caring for it, at least somewhat. No signs of people could be seen. Hannie proceeded to the entrance, put the bag down on the stairs, looking around. For sure, there would be a key somewhere.
He strolled around, sharpening his eyes. There weren’t any pots or rocks close to the entrance, so he went over to the shed. The door creaked as he opened it and peeked in. The shed was filled with various stuff, a lawn mower, two bikes, some firewood stacked at one side. And, a shelf with cans of paint, buckets and plant pots. A brass pot was what caught his eyes first, since it was little out of place—and bingo—the key was in it.
Forgive me for what I am about to do, he mumbled, but I have no other option. He went back to the house and put the key into the lock. It clicked as he turned the key twice to unlock the safety lock. Opening the door, he stepped inside the small hallway with a brown vinyl floor, covered by a rag rug. The air inside of the cottage was stuffy, but there was also the smell he remembered from when he was a child, dry and sweet, and he drew it in. Then he took his shoes off. Could this be where he’d be staying. Was this his home for now?
He brought his bag into the bedroom. Apart from that room, the first floor contained a living room and a kitchen. A narrow stair led to an attic with two more minimal bedrooms. It was up there they’d stayed, his mom and dad in one of the rooms, and him and his brother in the other. Now, he chose the main bedroom instead. He put the bag down on a chair next to the bed. The fabric of the bedspread was decorated with pink roses. Lifting it, he saw that the bed was made, and wondered for how long it had stood ready like that.
Venturing into the kitchen, he opened the pantry. It had some dry goods—sugar, oats and flour—of which the expiry dates had passed long ago. His stomach gave out a grumble. He hadn’t eaten anything since late afternoon yesterday, at his grandparent’s place. If he didn’t want to eat porridge made from expired oats, he’d have to go shopping for food. For how long would that store stay open? Thinking of it, it was Sunday—it shouldn’t be open at all, should it?
*
Walking all the way back, the day was only getting hotter. Hannie would have preferred wearing a t-shirt, but since it was Sunday, he felt he should be properly dressed. This time, three young men were at the seating group, chattering loudly, but the guy from before wasn’t with them.
Pushing the door open, a bell jingled, and the guy who’d been outside smoking lifted his head from where he sat behind the counter, reading a comic magazine. Next to the cash register resided a large pile of magazines, a big rigello bottle of cola and packs of cigarettes, leaving almost no space to put goods.
“Oh, hello again,” the guy said, his eyes going wide.
“Hej hej.” Hannie quickly grabbed a basket and popped in between the shelves, roaming around for food. He should’ve had a plan for this, because every time he got flustered, his mind stopped working, and now he felt as if the guy at the counter was curiously following his every movement. He picked some groceries on random, bread, butter and cheese, instant mashed potatoes, lingonberry jam, ketchup, a bag of frozen potato patties and a packet of fish sticks. This would make him survive for two days, at least.
“Found what you needed?” The guy gave Hannie an amused smile as he came to the counter.
“Yeah.” The probing gaze gave Hannie a slight tinge of annoyance that had him overcome his shyness. “Just curious… why do you keep the store open on a Sunday?”
“Why not?”
Because you shouldn’t be working on a day of rest. “It’s a day for reverence.”
The guy let out such a scornful sound that Hannie almost winced. “Really? I didn’t know.” Then he threw a glance at the groceries Hannie had put on the counter. “And yet, here you are, buying from me.”
“Mm,” Hannie said, his voice going cloudy. “It’s a bit of an emergency.” As he said it, his stomach groaned loudly. Hannie’s face immediately flushed pink and the guy let out a cackling laughter, making his eyes turn into crescents.
“I see. Then, good for you that there’s nothing, and I mean nothing, to do here on a Sunday… so I decided to work, even though it’s my day off.”
“Mm.” Hannie pouted as he paid, almost depleting all of his finances, then grabbed the bag to leave. “Thank you.” He had to show a bit of decency, hadn’t he? he shouldn’t let himself sink to the level of this guy.
The bell chimed as he stepped outside, the warmth wrapping like a blanket around him. Now, the three guys from before had left, and the calmness of Sunday had been reinstated.
Artist by the lake
When Hannie passed by the picnic bench, he noticed a phone box next to the store. Maybe he should take some precautions. He went over there, took out some coins and dialled a number. It was his brother’s wife who answered, and she called for his brother to come to the phone.
“Hannie,” he said in a sharp voice, “where are you?” Apparently, his parents had already spoken to him.
“In Gothenburg,” he lied. “I just wanted to say I’m okay. Tell mom and dad not to worry.”
“You should go back home. Mom’s coming up the seams.”
Hannie was quiet for a moment. “I get that. But I’m not going back.”
Now, his brother was silent, too. “What happened,” he asked after a while.
Hannie let out a sigh. Thankfully, they hadn’t told him. “We had an argument and I left.”
“Where are you staying?”
“At a friend’s place.” Another lie, that should be easy to see through—Hannie didn’t have any friends in Gothenburg—but since his brother had left to study in Stockholm three years ago, he might not know that.
His brother sighed. “You’re grown up, so you can make your own decisions, but I think you should call them yourself.”
“No.” Hannie pouted. “I won’t.”
A snort was heard. “All right. As long as you’re okay. Keep me posted, will you?”
“Mm, I will.”
They hung up, and Hannie exhaled. He didn’t want to think more about this now. He was in Villinge, and he wanted to rest here a little, before he had to leave again. Of course, this was only temporary… but he needed the solace. Here, no one knew who he was. No one knew what he’d done, and no one needed to know, either. It was enough that he had to face himself, face the Lord through his troubling thoughts and actions. He started walking back to the cottage. When I’ve dumped these things and eaten something, I’ll go swim, he thought. I’ll cleanse my mind.
At the cottage he noticed that the small refrigerator and freezer were shut off. They started up with a grunting sound, then buzzed intensely from the effort of starting to cool. The frozen food might thaw, so he’d better cook some of it. Hannie had almost never cooked. Now he started looking for pots and pans, utensils and plates, opening cupboards and drawers. He managed to fry some fish sticks and mix potato powder and water to mash. The fish sticks got slightly burnt and the potato mash became too watery, but with ketchup, it tasted okay—mainly because he hadn’t eaten anything since yesterday. A strange sense of freedom came over him. For real, no one knows I’m here. I can do whatever I want.
Leaving the dishes by the sink, he changed from slacks to shorts, and stuffed the towel in a plastic bag. He hadn’t brought swimming trunks, since he thought he was going to Gothenburg, but shorts or underwear would do. Possibly, he could even swim naked, since most probably, no one would be around. The main swimming site was located at the big lake, called Storsjön, but he wanted to go where he’d bathed as a child, closer to the cottage. The warmth of the sun made him hurry his steps, the distance to the lake shorter than he remembered.
As he’d suspected, he didn’t see a soul by the lake. The small jetty looked a little rickety, but as he stepped onto it, the worn wood felt smooth against his bare feet. He put the bag down at the end of it, and began unbuttoning his shirt. After folding it and putting it into the bag, he took the rest of his clothes off. A light breeze caressed his skin. The water looked deep enough, so he jumped straight in, and it closed around him, warm, its taste sweet on his lips. It had a tinge from the iron in the soil, colouring it rust red. He took a few strokes, tumbling about, then swum for a while. He knew from memory that this lake became deep very quickly, and he took charge, swimming downwards to check. Without goggles, you couldn’t open your eyes, because the sweet water made them sting, but he managed to touch the bottom with his hand. Maybe four meters deep.
When he felt done swimming, he climbed the ladder to the jetty, feeling refreshed and a little cold as he came up. Stretching his arms upwards to the sun, the small drops on his body glistened as they trickled down his skin. Lifting his gaze to the beach, he flinched as he saw someone sitting further up. It was a guy his own age, with dark brown hair falling around his head. His curious gaze had landed on Hannie’s naked body. Hannie immediately grabbed the bag to get his towel, his face flushing. When he’d wrapped the towel safely around himself, he glanced over to the guy again. He was sitting on a camping stool with a small easel in front of him. In his one hand was a paintbox, and in the other, a brush.
Hannie got dressed quickly. Where did that guy come from? Was he there already when he arrived? Hannie hadn’t noticed him… Hannie guessed thet guy had gotten quite a view of him as he came out of the water. Now, he couldn’t help but think of Arvid, as they were by the lake two days earlier, swimming together. Hadn’t he already then felt a coil in his stomach, a tingle of excitement at the view of Arvid’s toned body? At the tanned skin and the golden hairs curling on his shins? If he’d reflected upon it at that point, maybe he would have been able to pinch it at the bud… How was it possible that he’d just followed along when temptation reared its ugly head? How had he not understood that he was being tested? And now, he was here, flashing his body before the eyes of an unknown guy. The hotness on his skin was not from the sun anymore, it came from within, from the depths of his soul. What was he doing? What was wrong with him?
Grabbing the plastic bag with the wet towel, Hannie hurried along the jetty. As he neared the guy, he gave him a quick glance and a tiny nod. I have to pretend that this is perfectly normal. Just a week prior, he might actually have seen it that way. He’d bathed naked in lakes many times as a child… but he wasn’t a child any longer, and, well… The guy nodded back, his eyes showing the faintest sparkle, a slight smile on his full lips. That man is overwhelmingly beautiful, Hannie thought, and almost had to shield himself from the strike of guilt that crashed into his body. Forgive me.
The right path
Waking up after the first night in the cottage, Hannie felt rested. It was something about the air in the countryside, the complete stillness, that made his mind calm. He’d fallen asleep early, then he’d been up at one point to go outside to pee, and he saw the night sky in deep indigo, studded with stars. The vastness of it overwhelmed him. It was so still, so quiet, so awe-inspiring.
Now, he went out into the kitchen in his tank top and underwear, quickly realising he didn’t buy tea yesterday. Luckily, he found a pack of teabags far inside a cupboard, and could make himself a cup. He stirred the tea, even though he’d neither put milk nor sugar in it. It was Monday, and his life consisted of absolutely nothing. What was he to do today? His heart rate increased as his dad’s voice started ringing in his ears.
You repent for doing unrighteous deeds, you study the Epistle to the Romans, and you pray the Lord to have mercy on your soul.
He swallowed the last of the tea, got dressed and sat down at the minimal white painted desk, opening the People’s Bible. He skipped over the parts he couldn’t bear to read, going directly to the ones speaking about salvation. Leaving the flesh behind, living in the Spirit, that was the only way forward. From now on, he wouldn’t look back, he wouldn’t even think of what had happened, because it would take away from the path he was intended to walk. There was nothing that could separate him from the love of God, not as long as he kept living life the way he should.
Leaving home in a state of panic maybe wasn’t part of it… but he still had to try.
He closed the book with a mixture of regret and comfort inside of him. If he could remain on the righteous path, there was forgiveness to be had. Humans were all insufficient in some form—as long as he stayed faithful, it would be okay, wouldn’t it?
When he was done, he counted the money in his wallet as well as in the bag of coins. He had to set aside enough to be able to call his brother—possibly, all of the coins—which meant he only had around thirty kronor to buy food for. That wasn’t enough for getting even the basics. His mind started spinning. How would he solve this? To get by, he’d have to find a way to earn money, but what could he do? In this village was no harbour to get day jobs in. The only work he’d tried so far was office duty during civil service, and that kind of work might not exist in Villinge at all. He sighed. There was enough food in the house to take him through today, at least. Tomorrow, he’d consider his options.
Hannie spent the rest of the day reading the book he’d brought, not leaving the premises. This night, he didn’t sleep as well as he’d done the first night. The room was too hot, and thoughts kept circling in his mind. He’d left home, he’d let his parents down, he’d been a coward—not daring to face the congregation or the Lord himself. What was to become of him? Tossing and turning, he realised he wouldn’t fall asleep. He stood up and went outside, sitting down on the porch. The temperature was comfortable, the sky as vast as the night before. Is there someone who cares for me, he thought. What do I have to fall back on? Up until now, his world had consisted of his family, the community around the church, Arvid, and a few other friends. Now, all of it was gone… because he couldn’t go back.
As he went inside, he lay down on the bed feeling a little cooler, and his mind finally started to calm. Maybe, I could ask people here if there’s work somewhere. There are people my age. If I just dare to open my mouth, maybe I could find a solution.
*
Since Hannie hadn’t fallen asleep until early morning, he woke up late. His mind felt worn and blurry. Outside, the sun was shining, the lustrous surroundings looking heightened, like something you’d see in a painting. Hannie made some tea and drank it outside. Then he went back in to put on slacks and a light blue shirt. He watched himself in the small mirror in the bedroom. The dark brown bangs parting over his forehead was getting a little long, the hair at the back of his neck reaching down to the collar. His mother did not like when his hair got too long… but he wasn’t at home now. He head a quest to find out how to get by in Villinge. There was no use in waiting.
As the bell chimed, Hannie immediately glanced over to the counter, and the same guy as last time lifted his head from a magazine. His long bangs fell over his face and he looked up with a mix of indifference and interest. ”Morning,” he said, mouth crooking slightly.
It’s not really morning this time either. In Hannie’s chest, something whiffed by. He couldn’t pinpoint the sensation. It was light and breezy and worrisome at the same time.
Hannie greeted the guy back and went to pick out some goods. This time, he chose things that would last longer. Potatoes, cereal, milk, flour, eggs, oats, canned beans and a few packs of bacon. As he put the goods on the counter, he cleared his throat. ”Could you, maybe, first check how much this is? I’m not sure if I…”
”Sure thing. Short on cash?”
”Yeah, a little.”
The guy did the sum-up in his head. He must be both very knowledgeable about the pricing of things and quick-witted. ”Thirty-four kronor and sixty-five öre.”
”Ahh. Then, I have to take something out.”
”How much is missing?”
”Around five kronor.”
The guy lifted his head and nodded to the entrance. ”Over there. There are coupons.”
”Coupons?”
The guy just kept nodding toward the door. Hannie went over to check, and in a stand was a bunch of printed leaflets. At the bottom of the page were discount coupons for selected goods. Hannie turned around and caught the guy’s gaze. ”But… those are not for the things I’m buying.”
”Yeah? Who cares?”
”Ehh…”
”I don’t. My boss doesn’t either. Just bring ’em over.”
Hannie brought a few of them, and the guy started to register the stuff. ”That’s all?”
”Mm.” Hannie paid, using his last bank notes, then tore some coupons off to cover for the missing amount. The guy handed him the bag and Hannie took it. “Thanks.”
Now would be the time to open his mouth, if he wanted to ask something. Searching for words inside of him, he hesitated. Should he really do it? This person’s attitude was a little… unruly. And, unfortunately, he was also so devastatingly handsome that Hannie lost his words only from looking at him. His eyes were large and dark with heavy lids, rimmed with thick eyelashes, and his face looked as if someone had tried to create the perfect being—instantly succeeding at the task.
At that moment, the guy drew his breath. “Want some cola? I’m going outside for break. You can join if you want to.” His voice was light, as if he couldn’t care less about the response. He took out a bunch of plastic cups from under the counter and poured cola into one of them from the half-full bottle on the counter.
Hannie slowed his movements. Was this an answer to his prayers, or not? That didn’t seem to matter, because he was already responding. “All right.”