Again, yet again Sønstebø was going to hit Svein, but then somebody came into the room, another uninvited guest. At first I didn’t recognize him, because he’d started junior high school and I hadn’t seen him for a while, but now he was standing there: Magnus. He had grown just as tall as his father. But the squirrel eyes were the same.

He said his father’s name, not “Dad” or “Father” but his father’s full name. Then, finally, Sønstebø stopped punching Svein, and Daddy released Mommy as if he had burned himself.

“We’re going home now,” Magnus said to his father. “Now we have to go home.”

He was only thirteen years old, but he had the stature of an adult. The minute he walked into the room everyone had to look at him—all the adults had turned to face him and were waiting, as if they didn’t have any choice.

Magnus turned toward the doorway, didn’t even check to see whether Sønstebø was following him, didn’t check to see what Daddy did, if he was coming with him. But they did, both Sønstebø and Daddy followed him, as if Magnus were the grown-up and they were children.

But before Magnus reached the door leading out into the hallway, he turned around after all, not toward them, but toward me.

“Hi, Signe.”

That was the first time that evening anyone said my name.

Chapter Sixteen: David

Chapter Sixteen

David

We didn’t sleep, neither Lou nor I. It was just the two of us in the tiny cloth cubicle.

I had hung a sheet over the doorway. It created some form of privacy. Even though everyone could hear us.

I mopped up the vomit on the floor with a dry rag I’d found in the broom closet. I hoped I could find some water to wash with in the morning. My fingers smelled. But I became accustomed to it, became immune.

But more smells emerged; now it started coming out the other end.

“I have to go to the bathroom,” Lou cried suddenly. “Now!”

She wanted to run out, but I stopped her.

“Use the bucket,” I said.

“No, I don’t want to use the bucket.”

“We won’t make it to the toilet.”

She stopped moving. Hesitated. Made a face, and then crouched down. Apparently she couldn’t hold it in any longer. She pulled off her underpants and bent her knees, completely naked. Helplessly, she tried to aim into the red plastic bucket. I held her, helped her hit her mark.

It happened immediately, exploding loudly toward the bottom of the plastic bucket. I could hear people moving around in the cubicle around us. They knew what was happening. They found the sound of it disgusting. I was embarrassed, but then I caught myself. It wasn’t my damn fault. And above all, none of this was Lou’s fault.