Holmberg

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dongregg
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Re: Holmberg

Post by dongregg » Thu Oct 18, 2018 4:46 am

Oh boy, GK. More, please! :D
“For drama to deepen, we must see the loneliness of the monster and the cunning of the innocent.”

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Re: Holmberg

Post by gkmoberg1 » Thu Oct 18, 2018 5:52 pm

dongregg wrote:
Thu Oct 18, 2018 4:46 am
Oh boy, GK. More, please! :D
:D Following my usual "XX years ago today" scheme, I intend to post a segment of the story on the day when it occurs. Or as soon thereafter as I can - depending on the weather, my mental outlook on life, and amount of good coffee within reach - likely a combination of all those. As you see from the dates of the first postings of this thread, I got going on this story idea last year. However I then detoured off into reading nordic noir stories, frowned a lot, mentally puzzled things over, and then did a whole lot of procrastinating ... and oh my goodness and entire year went by. Nice going there GK!! So, let's see if I can stay on the tracks this time. Or if not, then perhaps you'll see the next bit in about a year - on its respective day. :| At present, I'm busy with the 10/21 entry. Gosh, I wonder why? :think: :o Let's sum it up this way: coffee coffee coffee 8-)

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Re: Holmberg

Post by gkmoberg1 » Sat Oct 20, 2018 4:08 am

19 ocktober 81
måndag {Monday}

Peter left literature class and turned left in the hall. Greta wanted to catch up with him but Mattius, Lenneart and another were in the way. She got through the door but not in time to have any chance of catching up with him. She figured she could try something near the lunch break.

The lunch break came and went with Peter not arriving at the cafeteria or being out in the area where most of the others chatted and ate. At least Greta was not able to spot him. She knew he was not in any of remaining classes for the day. She might be able to spot him after school. While she could have asked around, she didn’t want to draw any attention to herself. So she waited.

When the school day ended she scouted for him again. And again there was no sign of him. She got away from her friends on an excuse and doubled back through the school. She came out the other end still without having spotted him.

Perhaps it was for the better. She wasn’t sure what to say first and now she felt like she was becoming a stalker. Well, not a good one, but yet. She also knew that sometimes he could be difficult to engage; she had found that out during the school play last spring. Before they hit it off she found he could be withdrawing and absorbed in his own thoughts.

She went home contemplating writing him a note. But passing notes was something she’d done when she was younger. It didn’t feel right now. She could call him, but she didn’t like using phones. So, she put away worrying about it, which was easy once she got home and caught up with what her brother and sister were up to.

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Re: Holmberg

Post by dongregg » Sat Oct 20, 2018 4:48 am

So good! Immediately engaging!
“For drama to deepen, we must see the loneliness of the monster and the cunning of the innocent.”

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metoo
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Re: Holmberg

Post by metoo » Sat Oct 20, 2018 3:03 pm

gkmoberg1 wrote:
Sat Oct 20, 2018 4:08 am
Peter left literature class and turned left in the hall. Greta wanted to catch up with him but Mattius, Lenneart and another were in the way. She got through the door but not in time to have any chance of catching up with him. She figured she could try something near the lunch break.
The names should probably rather be Mattias and Lennart.

Furthermore, while Greta indeed is a Swedish name, it isn't very common - about 5000 women are called Greta. I can't remember ever having met someone called Greta, although a woman in my parent's generation was called Anna-Greta. She still is, by the way.

The name Greta was very popular in the early 20th century, which explains why I come to think of elderly women when I hear it. Apparently it's on the rise again now.

Although Greta today is used as a proper name, it originally was a short form of Margareta, a name today used by some 23.000 Swedish women. I have met several women called Margareta.
But from the beginning Eli was just Eli. Nothing. Anything. And he is still a mystery to me. John Ajvide Lindqvist

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Re: Holmberg

Post by gkmoberg1 » Sat Oct 20, 2018 7:55 pm

Thank you for the notes. I had meant for the names to be Mattias and Lennart and not for the way I ended spelling them. I am glad you pointed these out. I shall leave untouched what I have posted so far with these misspellings, and you - dear Gentle Readers - will have to map the boys to their correct name spellings as things continue.

As for Greta, her sister Anna and brother Adrian ... I have inside info from the author that he selected their names very deliberately and for reasons is he is not stating as yet.

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Re: Holmberg

Post by gkmoberg1 » Sun Oct 21, 2018 3:12 am

20 ocktober 81
tisdag {Tuesday}

“Oh, hi!” Greta exclaimed, coming face to face with Peter the next morning before Literature class. She had turned in from the hall to the classroom, worrying about a dozen items, none of which were about him.

He nodded with a half smile. “Filip said he saw you at a party.”

“Yes, he did. He did. Does he ever stop talking?”

Peter turned a bit a way from her, put several fingers to his face and posed. He rubbed his chin in a circular motion. “No,” he said at last, “No.”

They moved a bit farther into the room and had about a minute before class began.

“How come it’s been about two months of school without me seeing you?” she asked, looking at him closely for the first time.

“I’ve missed a lot. I’ve been kind of sick.”

Now she was indeed looking at him. He seemed the same. Yet, he was also making a motion with his hands that told her that he didn’t want to get into it right now.

“I’ve only been here for two weeks. Maybe,” he said with a shrug.

“When can I talk to you?”

“After school?” he said as he moved toward a chain towards the back.

“Okay,” she said, “where?”

He nearly had his back to her at this point. The room was crowded. She saw him raise both hands up in a “I don’t know. Somewhere” expression.

As class started she pondered what he had said and how he had acted. Much of the exchange was just as how things went with him last spring: he tended to say little, indicated his interest -good or bad- with a wave or a shrug, and seemed to have a knack of putting off answering questions. Once she got to know him she had found he did have a lot to say. It just had to come out in his way.



The day passed, school ended. She again ducked out of hanging out with her friends and went to look for him. Yet a careful wandering of the school turned up nothing. The best she could do was find Filip on the way home. He and Mattias (sp!!) were in the town centre. “Greta,” Filip said when he saw her. “Peter had to leave early. Said he’s see you tomorrow? He said to tell you.”

“Alright then.” She wondered how that message was supposed to have gotten to her if it was by accident that Filip and she - who didn’t even go to the same school – had crossed paths.

“Sorry,” he said and looked away for a second remembering more, “he won’t be in school. It’s Wednesday. Look for him at the gym after school. Around 5 or 6. We have handball.”

She stood there adding up the clues. The look on Filip’s face was likely yet another.

“He’d like that a lot,” he said.

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Re: Holmberg

Post by metoo » Sun Oct 21, 2018 11:17 am

gkmoberg1 wrote:
Sat Oct 20, 2018 7:55 pm
As for Greta, her sister Anna and brother Adrian ... I have inside info from the author that he selected their names very deliberately and for reasons is he is not stating as yet.
Good. An uncommon name like that demands an explanation.
But from the beginning Eli was just Eli. Nothing. Anything. And he is still a mystery to me. John Ajvide Lindqvist

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Re: Holmberg

Post by gkmoberg1 » Tue Oct 23, 2018 2:26 am

21 oktober 81
onsdag {Wednesday}
10:30

"I thought... but Filip said you weren't to be here today." She was about to enter Lit class as usual but found Peter was coming along the hall from the opposite direction.

Peter stopped, looked down as he lifted both his arms slightly towards his face, palms up and fingers splayed. "Hmmm, looks like me."

"Well, if anyone asks, tell them you can stay. That I said so."

He smiled. But he looked tired.

"Handball, he said."

"Yeh, some."

"I tried that once. I was horrible." Then: "What gives Peter? Something's going on with you. Yet you're playing handball." Her memory of handball was that it was pure exertion.

He motioned for her to cross the hall with him, away from the classroom door and everybody ducking around them.

"I've been getting tired. Way too quick and too often. My parents keep taking me for tests. The doctor botched or lost the round I did last week so I have to go again today."

"Last round of what?"

"Blood tests."

"That doesn't sound good." She grimaced.

"And they take about eight tubes each time. If I come in without any blood tomorrow, now you know why."

"Not funny, Peter."

"Maybe I just need new blood." When he saw her look he added "Kidding."

"Gross."

"But handball... if you want, come this evening. I can show you how. You'd like that?"

"Yes, as long as you don't whack me with the ball."

"Never. 8 o'clock or so. Okay?"

"Deal, then."

[End of Preface]

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Re: Holmberg

Post by gkmoberg1 » Tue Oct 23, 2018 2:54 am

[Chapter 1]
21 oktober 81
onsdag {Wednesday}
19.54

The time was a couple minutes before 8 o’clock; the day was Wednesday the 21st of October, 1981. The location was Vällingby, Sweden, a city of the western Stockholm suburbs.

Sunset had been at 16.26, 26 minutes after 4 o’clock. Moonrise would not be for another three and a half hours.It was a cool, clear night. Recent days had been dry.

The day marked the 148th birthday of Alfred Noble. Carl XVI Gustaf was one month into the thirteenth year on the throne. The Prime Minister of Sweden was Thorbjörn Fälldin of the Centre Party.

Greta Wahlström, a sixteen year old school girl from Vällingby, and several girl friends had taken one of the forest pathways near the city centre and were playing at laughing and chasing each other while heading to the public gym. Greta, trying to get ahead of the group moved, as best she could, through the woods to the group’s right. The pathway was completely unlit and while the path was solid footing, the forest floor was uneven. It took concentration for her to watch and not get tripped up. Stumbling down an incline between the trees, one she saw took herself out of view from her friends on the path, she had a brief thought she might have found a way to get around them unseen. However upon reaching the base of the slope and as she went to hasten her pace, she was struck. Somebody - she could tell it was not a tree but a person - standing in the darkened woods struck her, and with one blow knocked her to the ground. She went sprawling. The shock stung. Thrashing about and trying to righten herself, the person struck her again. This time, not as hard. But it hardly mattered. She cried out “Stop!” in her fear, although probably not loud enough for her friends to notice. She had no idea who was standing over her and likely was about continue hurting her. But the beating ceased. Instead, the attacker came to place himself against her in the darkness with no further aggression. She had sat up, jacket-sleeved arms protectively about her head, and she could feel the one who had assaulted her remaining quietly up against her forearm. This remained as such and she tried a “Hello,” weakly, with tears coming from her fear and shock. But the person didn’t move. She withdrew her arm and nothing happened. Her assailant didn’t answer. She could not feel any movement. Making a move to righten herself a second time, she found to her surprise he remained standing where he was. Again, he was quiet and simply allowing her to bump into him from where she sat. She dared to reach out. She found where he was but nothing made sense. He, or perhaps she,... but to her a ‘he’ made more sense, for Greta could not imaging a ‘she’ striking her so hard and in such a callous manner.

"Hi?" she tried again. She turned her hands and for the first time felt what she figured would be his shin were he standing. But it wasn't a shin. And it wasn't a leg. She felt hair and matted wetness. Then what seemed like a nose, a face. A head. She flinched away and lost her balance. The person must be kneeling because his head was right next to her, but everything about that face was backwards. Her breathing was fast. She wiped away the tears and got herself up. "You stop doing this, do you hear me?" she said. She looked as best could into the dark. It was indeed dark but her eyes had become adjusted. Slowly she made him out. But it was all backwards. And silent. The wetness she had felt was everywhere on her - her hands, her face, she know it was on her jacket. He was clearly upside down. This was no joke; he was somehow standing on his head. And silent.

In a new wave of fear she crouched and looked around slowly. There was nobody else, she felt, but was unsure. She dared a step toward him. Poked. He moved but then swung back. She realized he was hanging, not standing somehow upside down. She screamed, backed up, fell down, flailed, flipped over and scurried away from him on all fours, scrambled up the slope, careened off trees, anything in her way, and screamed for her friends.

...

It took four minutes to find a patrolman. While several women consoled Greta, their husbands plus another man took to the forest path in an attempt to locate the scene. Three others went in search of the police. The girl and her friends had come out of the woods to the town centre. She was in hysterics and her friends had gone from laughing to crying. Her jacket, pants, hands, face and hair had one level or another of blood on them - some parts in streaks, some in blotches. Yet she herself seemed not to be harmed. Calls were made to the police from the adjacent Vällingby Tunnelbanan entrance. Another man ran across to the police station. Thus within a short time, two officers - Orlander and Norrell - were on the scene, examining the girl who stood with her friends and the women. Another patrolman - Lundgren - arrived two minutes later. Lundgren agreed to stay at the centre and coordinate. Orlander and Norrell, then, following contradicting instructions from the girls, set off to find the site. Lundgren, who had teenagers of his own at home, took on talking with the girls. As well, he called for more assistance.

20:06

“How far out along the path are we looking?” asked Orlander. She hurried along, alternately illuminating the path in front of her and then the woods to the left with her torch.

“It wasn’t clear. Look for a path to the left. And then look again on the left,” said Norrell.

The two officers opted to bypass the first path off the main trail. They were yet too close to the Centre and the lighting was too good. At the branch path’s far end they could see lights from a car moving along Kirunagatan. No good, based on what the girls had said. After another minute they heard and then found the men who had gone out initially. They had almost nothing to light their way and said they had found nothing. Norrell asked where they had gone and they said they had walked the main path nearly to the gym and back. Orlander and Norrell then moved on while the men went back towards the Centre.

Soon the two officers found a second path, off to the left. This one seemed more likely. The lighting was nonexistent and the end could not be seen. It felt right, in that it felt like the wrong place to be in the dark. They took it.

Norrell caught up to Orlander when she stopped. The path was making a slow arc to their right and he found she had come to at a point where there was a clear disturbance to the leaves coming out of the woods. The disturance moved off to the left.

“This could be it,” she said.

“Let’s take this carefully. No surprises. If this is turns out to be as she described it, it’s going to be a mess."

"Be ready. We might not be alone."

“I’ll go around this way,” said Norrell, indicating the nearer side of the disturbance to where he stood. He backtracked a couple steps and moved into the woods. She did the same but on the farther side. They stayed even, about ten meters apart, sweeping the ground as they went. Both were careful not to disturb the pattern of foot imprints that were clear on the ground between them. There were not many of them but it was clear from the disturbance to the leaves on the soft ground that it had been traversed at some point recently.

20:11

They didn’t have to go far. A short distance into the woods they came upon a depression that was roughly circular. Twenty meters in diameter, the ground formed a bowl that appeared to be three meters at its deepest spot. The depression, like the forest about them, was wooded throughout. They moved carefully down into it, keeping their way lit.

Norrell’s torch spotted the body first. “Orlander!” he said. She brought her torch around to meet his.

A taut rope, dropping from a branch that separated from the trunk not much more than two meters above the ground, was holding up the still and inverted body of a teen. He hung in profile to them; his face mostly hidden by the angle. The rope had been made into a knot around his ankles; the other end was looped up around the branch several times and then back down. Its slack end had been used like a belt to tie the boy’s arms around this stomach.

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