The Princess of Burundi - Kjell Eriksson [92]
Justus looked at the two of them with a blank expression, then walked into his room and slammed the door.
“Are you happy now, you bastard?” Berit said. “He has enough on his mind without you coming here with your shit. Go now, before I kill you. And don’t you ever come here again, or I’m calling the cops.”
“If anyone should call it would be me,” Lennart said. “Did John know about this? Is that why he died? If it is, you’re going to be dead soon.”
Berit stared at him.
“You shithead! God, how I hate you. Running around, drinking all the time. John tried to get out and he succeeded, but you still run around like the disgusting wino you are. And you have the nerve to come here and threaten me, you damn scumbag. It’s like John said, you never grew up. He despised you, do you know that? He hated all your talk about Ymergatan and pool halls. That was all a hundred years ago. Is it anything to talk about? Pathetic small-time gangsters who terrorized the block. Go drown yourself, pisshead. You think you were really something then, like kings, but purse snatching and thinner sniffing only kills your brain. John had the guts to leave all that behind, but you’re still crawling around in the shit. Do you know that John hated all your loose talk but he put up with it because he was your brother—otherwise he would have thrown you out a long time ago.”
Berit stopped abruptly, chest heaving. Lennart was smiling tauntingly at her, but she could see fear in his eyes, and for a moment she felt a twinge of guilt. His smile stiffened into a grimace, a macabre mask, behind which a desperate anguish became more and more apparent. He drew back, out of the apartment and into the stairwell, still with lifted head but then the twitch came, the one Berit knew so well. He drew air in through his nose, bent over and sobbed. It was as if her dagger had only now reached his heart. His eyes grew dim and restless, he turned and charged down the stairs with thundering steps.
She heard the door downstairs shut. As if in a fog she shut her own door and sank to the floor. The only noise was the sound of the aquarium pump. There was only silence from Justus’s room. Berit looked up. It was as if the boy’s anxieties and questions pulsated through the closed door. She should go in and talk to him, but couldn’t summon the strength. Her body no longer obeyed her. Lennart’s talk and her attack had drained her completely. She had held herself together for so long, spent so much time talking to Justus. They had watched TV in the evenings, ostensibly watched, that is, but really talking. Berit had reminisced about times in her and John’s life, tried to create images that Justus would be able to treasure. She had told him about John’s youth, leaving out the worst, talked about how skillful and admired he had been at work, his knowledge of cichlids and how much he loved his son. She knew that the dead walked alongside the living. Now the myth of John was born, the image of a man who put his family first, whose goal in life had been to create a secure childhood for Justus.
The night before, she had told Justus that John had opened a bank account when Justus was born and that every month, no matter how hard up they were, he deposited 150 kronor. She had shown him the latest deposit and he had sat with the slip of paper in his hand for a long time.
Now Lennart was threatening to tear this all down, and this double pain knocked her to the ground. How long would she be able to carry on? Her work as a disability attendant did not provide her with enough income, and the possibilities of going to full-time were slim. She had no education, no contacts. Of course she would receive something after John, she didn’t know how much yet, but it would be hard. She wanted to spare her son the worst of it, especially now.
She got up with a great effort and stopped outside Justus’s door. It was completely quiet in there. She knocked and opened the door. He was sitting on the bed and took no notice of her when she came in.
“You don’t believe him, do you? He’s full of lies.”