The Last Days of My Mother by Sölvi Björn Sigurdsson

little victory I promised to get Mother another Campari. She agreed to forgive me only if I promised to be wholeheartedly entertaining for the rest of the evening, which I did. But then my worst fears came true: there was an exodus from the bankers’ party over to the Nazi ball. The Klambra boys had taken over a leather couch a short distance from our table. Benni was cackling at his own jokes and Daniel sat stone-faced with his featherbrain engaged in some inner dimensions of kinky sex and insider trading. They sat there with their coke-fueled laughter, their tumblers of century-old single malt whiskey mixed with cola, and Cuban cigars, having the time of their lives at the Nazi ball with Mother and me. All the dark and repressed memories that I’d buriedin the graveyard of my brain now clawed their way back to the surface. Benni stared at me, with no apparent recollection of owing me a thing, because he shot out of his seat and shouted across the room: “Hermann! Fucking hell! It’s the fucking Herminator!”
    â€œGood evening, Benni.”
    â€œWhat the hell, man! You in the loop?”
    â€œNo, Benni. I’m not in the loop ,” I answered and was suddenly thrilled to be with my mother at a Nazi ball. “I’m here with my mother, just having a good time. Brain Damage and herbs, it’s da bomb .”
    â€œWeren’t you at the meeting with Sjonni? Here for the greens? The Ice Baron takes care of his peeps, man. Fixrenta is taking over the buy-to-travel market. It’s genius, Hermann. Pure genius!”
    â€œNow you listen to me,” Mother said. She found Benni revolting and hated him intensely after my tale of the two million. “We’re here to have a good time, or are at least trying to, but you’re not making it easy. I have cancer and Trooper and I are here so I can kill myself. But first I just wanted to have a bit of fun, so please crawl back into whatever hole you came out of.”
    Benni took a few steps backward. “See you around, Hermann, my man. Peace out.”
    â€œWhat happened to that cash you owe me?” I called, because my hatred was back from the dead, putrid and vengeful.
    â€œSorry?”
    â€œMy salary that you held back, the two million?”
    â€œWhat? You’re still on about that shit? It’s in the past, Hermann, let it be. Danni and I are really onto something in Bulgaria these days, you should come too. It’s got everything—huge bonuses . . . you should check it out. We’re not talking millions, my man, we’re talking billions .” I got the feeling this phrase was being used a lotat Klambra office these days. “So is the Herminator hot for some greens?”
    â€œWhat are these greens you’re going on about?” Mother interjected. “Is the idiocy in Iceland now at such a level that even businessmen can’t speak Icelandic anymore?”
    â€œNo, Benni,” I said, wanting to put an end to this. “I don’t think I’ll buy into Bulgaria. Illness and all. It’s taxing.”
    â€œYes, of course,” Benni said, as if Mother’s madness was suddenly understandable in light of her cancer. I remembered that his father, the don of the Klambra boys, had kicked it because of a tumor a few years back, and how Benni and Daniel had needed several strippers to help them mourn. “Hang on, Hermann, I’ll have a word with Danni. Maybe he can find a solution to this. We have a nice apartment here in the ‘burbs.”
    â€œShit,” I said and looked at Mother, who shook her head and then her glass, indicating that she needed a refill on her Campari to survive. But surviving would have to wait because Daniel was on his feet in his tight suit, sunglasses and a shit-eating grin that suggested a life of extreme dental care; a deluxe, updated model of Benni.
    â€œAch,” Mother said, recoiling. “Is that the son?”
    â€œHuuur-MAN!”