Hell Fire by Karin Fossum Page B

kicked off the comforter. She pulled it over him gently and then started to think about tomorrow. The wine had made her sleepy. Christmas soon. She had to do everything she could to make those days as special as possible. Simon was so excited about it he could hardly sit still. And she hoped there wouldn’t be too much snow, because then she would have to clear it, which was heavy work. Her back ached enough as it was from all the cleaning. She got into her own bed, turned toward the wall, and fell asleep, her worries running out like sand in an hourglass.
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    Simon was standing there, pulling at her comforter. It surprised her, since she was always the first one up. But the wine had made her heavy and tired. Simon buried his nose in her neck and smelled the lovely perfume from the night before. He was excited because he had been in the kitchen and the two presents were lying side by side on the countertop. There was also a big Tupperware dish that he hadn’t seen before. Bonnie threw the comforter to the side and got up. She went into the bathroom to get dressed. Simon stood in the doorway and waited. When she was ready, they went into the kitchen. She spotted the two presents that she had forgotten to hide. She gave Simon a stern look.
    â€œYou haven’t touched them, have you?” she asked, pretending to be strict.
    â€œJust a little bit,” Simon mumbled guiltily. “They’re very hard.”
    Bonnie had to laugh. She gave the little one a squeeze; it was a box. Then she climbed up on a chair and hid the presents away on the top shelf where Simon couldn’t reach them.
    â€œWhat’s in the Tupperware?” he asked, pointing.
    â€œSome food that Britt brought. There’s plenty left, so you’ll get it for supper. It’s good.”
    She made him some porridge, as she always did, and he was strangely calm. Not as reluctant as he normally was when he was going to daycare. He remembered what Britt had said, that without money there would be no Christmas. He sprinkled sugar on his porridge. His fair hair was getting long at the neck. She should really take him to the hairdresser, Bonnie thought. But he had such lovely hair that maybe it should be left to grow. Her mother thought differently. She said it made him look like a girl.
    â€œWhat are you and Märta going to do today, then?” she asked in an enthusiastic voice to bolster the boy’s mood, which was such an improvement from normal.
    â€œMärta’s gone to the Canaries,” he said, his mouth full of porridge. “They’re swimming.”
    â€œIs that Gran Canaria?” Bonnie asked. “I’m sure it’s nice there.”
    â€œCan we go sometime?”
    â€œMaybe. When we can afford it. It costs a lot of money to go there.” She felt a pang in her heart when she thought of all the things she would never be able to give him.
    They put on their coats and went out into the snow, which had obviously fallen heavily overnight. The sight of the drifts by the driveway made her anxious. She strapped Simon into the back seat and brushed the snow off the roof of the car. Then she got in and started the engine. Just as she feared, the wheels spun and went nowhere. Three times she pressed the accelerator, but the car just sank deeper into the snow. She put her forehead to the wheel and groaned in desperation.
    â€œI can push,” Simon piped up from the back seat, undoing his seat belt.
    â€œNo,” she said. “That won’t work. We’ll have to think of something else.”
    She got out of the car to have a look and it wasn’t good. Maybe she could put something under the wheels, but what on earth would that be? Some planks would have done the trick, but she didn’t have any. Disheartened, she looked up the road as the seconds ticked by. Then suddenly she had an idea and disappeared into the house. She had two rag rugs in the hall, which she now rolled up and