Fog Island, page 25
She wondered if there was any polite way to say it, to tell him that he was a liar and she was no idiot. Oops, we put the camera in the shower instead of the bedroom. Did he really believe she was that stupid?
He looked up from the paper, stared at her, and shook his head.
‘Let it go, Sofia! Why are you so hung up on a bloody button? Don’t you know we have more important things to deal with?’
A hardy mosquito had sneaked through the window and was sucking blood from his temple, but she didn’t say anything. She thought about how funny the bite would look the next day. Her mood went sour; the conversation was over. At least for the moment. But she wasn’t about to give up. She was determined to confront him again.
And maybe she would have, if the epidemic hadn’t broken out that very day.
*
A fresh sort of calm lingered on the property when she went to lunch. The sun was peeking out after several weeks of fog, rain, sleet, and wind. It was the third week in December. Although the sky was clear, the air smelled like snow. Heavy grey clouds gathered on the horizon, apparently on their way to the island, but frost still glinted off the trees and bushes in the sunlight.
There would be a meeting after lunch. As soon as it was over she would talk to Oswald again. She was not about to give up.
The meeting was unusually relaxed. They pulled up chairs and sat in a circle around Oswald. He hadn’t brought any papers and was wearing jeans and a wool sweater. He almost seemed relaxed. For a while he spoke about what had happened in the past few months — the staff was doing better now that they understood the theses. He explained that he would be going to the mainland in the next week to reconnect with his contacts there. He was thinking about opening the annexes to guests again in the spring. He was acting so friendly that Sofia found herself thinking that the camera in the shower really might have been a mistake made by the technicians. She struggled with the thought for a moment, but her conviction that he was lying to her returned.
All of a sudden, someone sneezed. One, two, three times — it was Ulf, who was sitting in the front row. He was quick to bury his nose in his elbow, but the first sneeze had reached Oswald unhindered. The room grew deadly silent. Oswald threw his hands into the air in a gesture of hopelessness.
‘This is just ridiculous. Am I supposed to work with children who don’t even have the manners to cover their mouths when they sneeze?’
He stood up and looked at them with distaste — not just at Ulf, who was holding both hands to his face and trying to hold back another sneeze. Oswald was already on his way out, but suddenly he turned on his heel.
‘Check that idiot’s temperature. He looks fucking sick.’
Sure enough, Ulf had a fever. And so it began. When Sofia told Oswald about Ulf he was beside himself.
‘I told you in the fall! You and Bosse were supposed to fix up the basement so we could isolate sick people down there. You have to handle this. Get the basement in order. Take everyone’s temperature. Anyone with a fever must be isolated for at least twenty-four hours.’
He was shouting. Tiny, invisible droplets of spittle hit her cheek.
‘I’ll take care of it.’
‘And no more chats with the staff until everyone is healthy again.’
She wanted to point out that, in fact, only one person was sick so far. But she knew he was terrified of anything to do with viruses or bacteria.
Besides, while using her computer in secret, she had read that the flu was sweeping the mainland. And she knew who would shoulder the blame — only Benjamin had been outside the manor walls in the past few months.
She dragged Bosse down to the basement with her. It still smelled like mould down there, and it was cold and damp after the very rainy autumn.
‘Maybe we can bring down some electric heaters,’ Bosse suggested. ‘And tealights and stuff, to make it a little cosier.’
Sofia looked around the gloomy, ice-cold room sceptically, sincerely happy she wasn’t sick.
‘What will we do with the staff’s belongings, then?’ She looked at the piles on the floor in concern.
‘Oh, we’ll just shove them in the corner over here. There will still be room for at least ten beds. And hey, we can use bunk beds so there will be twenty. There are a bunch of extra beds in one of the barns; I’ve seen them before. Those on Penance can fix it all up tonight.’
Sofia knew at once that this would be one of the most loathsome projects she’d ever taken part in. But she couldn’t come up with any other solution, so she decided to let Bosse handle most of it. She would keep her distance as best she could.
‘Okay, you get the room ready and I’ll make sure everyone takes their temperature.’
She went up to Mona’s room to order Elin to make the rounds with a thermometer — she wasn’t about to do that herself. The thought of being close to all those disease vectors and passing the virus on to Oswald was unbearable.
Before she went upstairs, she peered out the glass pane in the door that led to the yard. It had started to snow. Big, thick flakes swirled around and caught in the tops of the trees. The lawn was already white. The sky was leaden and grey.
She found Elin at Mona’s bedside. Sofia suggested that one of the guards stay with Mona while Elin went around taking temperatures.
As soon as she reached the stairs up to the staff office, she heard scattered sneezes and coughs. It’s just psychosomatic, she thought.
But it soon became clear that Benny, who was dozing in the sentry box, also had a fever. And Lina in the kitchen had glassy eyes and was coughing and sneezing almost continuously. They really did have an epidemic on their hands. When she looked out the window, she spotted the group on Penance trudging through the snow with the beds. It was already getting dark.
Once the beds were arranged in the basement, it looked even worse. They were so close together that you had to worm your way through the narrow spaces to get in or out. They were also so tall that they blocked the faint light from the ceiling fixtures.
The mattresses were old and worn and smelled stale. Elin had gathered some herbs and teas for the sick, but when Sofia asked if she had anything for the fever, like paracetamol, Elin gave her a look of horror.
‘That stuff is absolutely against the rules here, Sofia. Franz would never allow it.’
As they stood and looked at the horrid room, Oswald came in. He was wearing a face mask over his nose and mouth, the sort of mask they had used while renovating the living spaces. Sofia held back a giggle; he looked rather comical. At the same time her chest constricted, because she was sure he would fly into a rage when he saw the wretched state of the sick bay.
‘This isn’t so bad,’ he said instead. ‘At least they’ll want to get better fast.’
*
It only took a few days before half the staff was sick. Luckily Elin had managed to avoid getting a fever, although she was coughing and sneezing. Mona was helping them care for the sick now.
Sofia went back and forth between Oswald’s office and the basement, but tried to hold her breath as much as she could down there, and avoided touching anything. Every time she came back to the office, Oswald told her to wash her hands and to avoid coming anywhere near him. She washed her hands so often that they became red and chapped. Every surface had to be wiped down with alcohol several times a day.
In the midst of all this, Oswald called the unit heads to a meeting in the dining room. At first Sofia thought she had misheard.
‘Sir, more than half the staff are sick with fevers right now.’
‘Then they’ll have to put on masks, because I want to talk to them.’
With Bosse’s help, she collected masks for everyone and gathered the coughing, sneezing, glassy-eyed group in the dining room. They looked like mummies in their masks. This sort of thing doesn’t happen in real life, she thought when she looked at them. This is a bad dream and I’m going to wake up soon. God help me, let it be a dream.
Oswald was over half an hour late and several of the staff had already nodded off.
‘Look at that, you all seem hale and hearty!’ he said when he came through the door.
He stared straight at her and raised one eyebrow. She smiled dutifully, but her insides flooded with something as cold as ice.
‘I’m going to the mainland the day after tomorrow to reconnect with people, so we can get the ViaTerra program up and running again. I’ll be gone for a week. I have a list here with things that must be done while I’m gone. Sofia, you can make copies for everyone tonight.’ He handed her the list, which appeared to have at least fifty points. She wondered how in the world they would get it all done with half the staff incapacitated. It was December 22, but there wasn’t a trace of Christmas around the property. She found herself wishing that the bays would freeze so the ferry wouldn’t be able to return. That he would be stuck on the mainland for a long time. For once she wasn’t ashamed of her thoughts.
She looked down at the list again. Their Christmas present.
‘You can’t infect me if I’m not here, so you can work even if you aren’t feeling so well,’ he said.
Not a sound from the staff. Not even the usual murmur of agreement.
But then Benjamin stood up.
No, Benjamin, be quiet, don’t say anything stupid!
‘Sir, don’t you think everyone needs to rest at least until their temperatures have gone down? Surely we can’t have people running around working with fevers?’
She knew what was coming before it happened. Knuckles whitening as Oswald clenched his fists. Jaw muscles tightening. Eyes narrowing into thin lines. She tried to make time go backwards. Erase Benjamin’s comment. But Oswald took a few big steps and was right in front of Benjamin. He grabbed him by the collar and shook him. He smacked his open hand down over Benjamin’s head.
Benjamin didn’t put up a fight, but his eyes were burning.
‘I’m tired of your nonsense, Benjamin!’ Oswald roared. ‘Who do you think brought this fucking flu here? If you disagree with me again, I’m sending your ass back to the mainland. Permanently. Sofia will stay here.’
Oswald shoved him back into his chair.
Benjamin still didn’t say anything, but he was trembling with pent-up rage.
Oswald looked at the rest of the group.
‘Anyone else who wants to challenge me?’
No one responded. The dining room was perfectly silent. Even the coughing and sneezing had stopped.
*
The next day she had a splitting headache, a sore throat, and aching joints. She could hardly drag herself out of bed. Not even the hot water of the shower could revive her; instead she found herself cold and shivering. She knew she had a fever but decided to power on and trudge through the day, because Oswald was scheduled to leave the island the next day. Once he was gone she would sleep off her illness in her own room.
After lunch she felt weak and so dizzy she was afraid she might faint. She sat at her little desk and tried to look diligent, but she felt Oswald glancing at her over and over.
Soon after, the chills set in and her eyes and nose began to run. She bent her head toward her keyboard, hoping he wouldn’t notice.
‘Shouldn’t you be out on the property making sure everything is getting done?’
She opened her mouth to respond but no words came out. Instead her throat released a croak — no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t speak.
He caught on right away.
‘Are you nuts? Have you been sick this whole time? Are you trying to infect me before I go? Get down to the basement. Pronto. But before you go, wipe down every single object and surface you’ve touched with alcohol. And don’t come back out of the basement until you’re well. Got it?’
She had neither the desire nor the strength to protest. Instead she was relieved, because her legs nearly collapsed underneath her when she stood up. She managed to drag herself around and sanitize everything she’d touched as he glared at her furiously.
The stale, damp basement felt like the overcrowded hospital once she’d dragged her body down the stairs. Almost every bed was occupied. There was coughing and groaning here and there, and the air smelled sharp with herbs and sweat. But she managed to find an empty bed and lay down on top of the blanket, still dressed, and fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.
When she woke up eighteen hours later, her clothing and blankets were soaked with sweat. The fever seemed to have broken, but she was utterly wrung-out. Her mouth tasted bitter and metallic. Elin wasn’t there and everyone else seemed to be asleep. According to her watch, it was six o’clock.
She lay still and gazed up at the dirty mattress of the bed above her for a while. A tiny spider was crawling through the dust and she watched it go. She heard snores, and someone was coughing in the bed next door.
It’s Christmas Eve, she thought. It’s Christmas Eve and I’m lying here in this filth. I haven’t bought a single present for Mom or Dad. I haven’t even sent them a Christmas card. And the worst part is, I never even considered it.
Images of the first part of her stay on the island flickered through her mind. Walks in the woods. Quiet moments at the lookout point. Visiting the cottage with Benjamin. The day when the library was ready. The parties early on, when they’d celebrated successes.
Then came images of the way things were now.
The wall and the barbed wire. The thick, constant fog. Punishments and abuse, both verbal and physical. Mona’s face as she hung from the ceiling.
All at once, she knew it would never get better. Every time she’d felt hopeful, a new catastrophe turned out to be waiting just around the corner.
For a brief moment, she felt perfectly free as she lay in the stale room.
She had made up her mind.
I look down at my watch.
Four hours have passed.
Four hours, and she hasn’t made a peep. She’s tougher than I thought.
I put my ear to the wardrobe door to listen, but I don’t hear a sound.
It strikes me that she might have died of fear in there. A skeleton in the closet, literally.
But then I hear a tiny sigh and a breath.
‘Fredrik!’ It’s Emilie’s anxious voice, from downstairs.
‘Yes, Mom!’
‘Do you know where Sara is?’
‘No idea. Should I look for her?’
‘No, we can wait a while. I’m sure she’s just with a friend.’
Idiot. As if she has any friends.
Four hours, we agreed. Four hours in the dark. But I’m waiting, letting her stay in there a little bit longer.
You always have to show them that they can handle more than they think.
And of course, this is nothing compared with what will come later.
Four and a half hours, and I open the door. She blinks like an owl when the light hits her.
It takes a while to drag her out — she was squeezed in among suitcases and shoeboxes.
Then I unroll the sheet I’ve wound around her. She is cocooned like a caterpillar. Totally helpless.
‘You did it! Four and a half hours.’
‘But I thought —’
‘Just a little bit extra. It’s part of your test.’
She lights up; her eyes sparkle. ‘What’s the next part?’
‘The water test,’ I say, letting her relish the words for a moment.
31
Benjamin simply stared at her; he seemed to think he had misheard.
‘You heard me. We have to get out of here. Leave. Escape!’
‘Are you crazy?’
‘Don’t be such a hypocrite. I know you want out too. It’s never going to get better around here.’
‘But can’t we just wait and see?’
‘Wait and see if he kills someone? Benjamin, there’s no debate here. I’ve had enough, and I’m leaving whether you do or not.’
It had taken a few weeks for her to gather enough courage to talk to him. But she had made up her mind, and it would not be swayed. She thought about it almost constantly — what it would feel like to be free. Go wherever she liked. See whoever she wanted to. Little things that had been trivial before she came to the island had suddenly become desirable. She wanted to watch TV, take a bus anywhere she wanted, eat a hamburger. She even found herself fantasizing about working at some crappy job and coming home after work and having time off, being totally free. She closed her eyes and tried to sense the buzz of people on the mainland living their regular old lives. She was so jealous of them it made her chest ache.
A nearly overwhelming restlessness was about to conquer her. She wished she could teleport herself to the other side of the wall; she just wanted to get it over with. Because even though she had made up her mind, the fear of being caught gnawed at the back of her mind. What if she was stopped and detained? Forced back down off the wall, like Mira? Sent to Penance for an indeterminate amount of time, under guard around the clock?
And what about Oswald? She shuddered every time her mind touched upon what he would do if he knew. He had just returned from the mainland, and he had sensed a change in her right away. He was suddenly like a bloodhound on the trail of a fresh scent. His eyes followed her everywhere, suspicious. He squinted searchingly every time he spoke to her.
‘You seem a little distracted, Sofia. Not quite all here,’ he said one day.
‘No sir, not at all. I’m just so glad everything went well on the mainland. That we’ll have guests again in the spring.’
She no longer had any scruples about lying. She knew she could always butter him up with a little flattery.
‘Yes, but it’s going to take a lot of work to get everything ready on time. I’d really prefer not to be dragged into the zombie gang before then.’ He sighed, his attention diverted for the time being.
*
She could see now, in Benjamin’s eyes, that he wanted to leave too. It was like nudging two marbles over the crest of a hill. They were rolling. Almost on their way.
A little fuel to the flames wouldn’t hurt.
‘Haven’t you had enough of being humiliated? Do you want him to beat you into the dirt? It’s not going to get any better, don’t you see that?’
