drunk more than usual. The sink in the bathroom was rocking like a rowboat. I had to max out my concentration in order to grab the door handle. When I came back I found
Samuel leaning into a corner, his legs planted wide as a tripod. The music stopped and the bouncers drove people out with arms like side-boom trucks.
“Home?” I said.
“Soon,” said Samuel.
It was chaos at McDonald’s. Two drunk Stureplan brats were lying on the floor and pointing at the spitballs on the ceiling as if they were comets. A teenage girl had thrown up on the
window. A homeless guy with a raincoat and plastic bags on his feet was sitting at a table and reading a newspaper and looking like the most normal person there. An old lady in a gray coat was in
front of us in line. She was swaying, she was taking a long time, there was some problem with her card. Samuel looked at his wrist (even though he didn’t have a watch) and said:
“How about this weather?”
Then the old lady turned around and gave him a surly look. We discovered that she wasn’t an old lady at all; she was a girl about our age or a little older. She had a strangely bell-shaped
coat and some gray streaks in her hair. She muttered something and walked toward the street. I saw that she was wearing a gold brooch shaped like an owl on her coat. The girl was Laide. And as I
walked up and ordered for myself and Samuel, we can establish that this was the first time Laide and Samuel saw each other. There were no strings playing from the loudspeakers. No choirs of angels.
No random car went by on the street with its windows down, blasting D’Angelo’s “Lady.” The sky outside did not fill with nighttime fireworks. Samuel and Laide were at the
same McDonald’s. He saw her. She saw him. It was late at night or early morning, and life just went on. As if nothing had happened. This was their first meeting. Even if I seem to be the only
one who remembers it.
*
Panther says that after the phone call she got a text from Samuel. He wrote that the streets of Sweden were safe because his grandma hadn’t passed the test and now they
were going to eat lunch and go back to the home. Then he wrote:
Thanks for calling. It meant everything to hear your voice. Fuck everyone else.
I don’t know exactly what he meant by
“everyone else.” I had a hectic afternoon, I had a working lunch and then a studio visit and to be completely honest I forgot about his text. I never responded. I didn’t really
know how to answer so I just didn’t and then it was too late.
*
We stood on Kungsgatan. Empty cabs zoomed by us, one, two, four, six, ten of them. We just laughed.
“Hi, Guinness Book of World Records,” Samuel said. “It’s us again.”
“Don’t bother sending anyone over.”
“Stockholm is the same as ever.”
We walked up toward Sveavägen to test our luck there. There were two beggars lying under the bridge. Samuel stopped and read their signs. Then he placed two gold tenkrona coins in
one’s mug and put a fifty-krona bill in the other’s. He just did it, without checking whether anyone was looking, without seeming proud. I looked at him and thought that he was a very
unusual person. Not because he gave money to beggars, but because he did it there and then, in the middle of the night, when no one was looking. Except for me.
*
Panther is quiet, thinking back. Just so you know, that last text sounds more dramatic now that I’m telling you about it. But I definitely should have responded. I could
have written, like,
Take it easy bro, I’m here for you, you’re not alone, everyone has felt the way you’re feeling at one point and you’ll make it, don’t worry,
don’t let go, hold on.
But of course I didn’t [pausing, looking out the window]. Okay, damn it, that’s enough, would you stop looking at me like I’m so guilty? [Standing
up, walking to the bathroom.] What the hell is with you, what the hell do you want, I didn’t have time [slamming the
Samuel leaning into a corner, his legs planted wide as a tripod. The music stopped and the bouncers drove people out with arms like side-boom trucks.
“Home?” I said.
“Soon,” said Samuel.
It was chaos at McDonald’s. Two drunk Stureplan brats were lying on the floor and pointing at the spitballs on the ceiling as if they were comets. A teenage girl had thrown up on the
window. A homeless guy with a raincoat and plastic bags on his feet was sitting at a table and reading a newspaper and looking like the most normal person there. An old lady in a gray coat was in
front of us in line. She was swaying, she was taking a long time, there was some problem with her card. Samuel looked at his wrist (even though he didn’t have a watch) and said:
“How about this weather?”
Then the old lady turned around and gave him a surly look. We discovered that she wasn’t an old lady at all; she was a girl about our age or a little older. She had a strangely bell-shaped
coat and some gray streaks in her hair. She muttered something and walked toward the street. I saw that she was wearing a gold brooch shaped like an owl on her coat. The girl was Laide. And as I
walked up and ordered for myself and Samuel, we can establish that this was the first time Laide and Samuel saw each other. There were no strings playing from the loudspeakers. No choirs of angels.
No random car went by on the street with its windows down, blasting D’Angelo’s “Lady.” The sky outside did not fill with nighttime fireworks. Samuel and Laide were at the
same McDonald’s. He saw her. She saw him. It was late at night or early morning, and life just went on. As if nothing had happened. This was their first meeting. Even if I seem to be the only
one who remembers it.
*
Panther says that after the phone call she got a text from Samuel. He wrote that the streets of Sweden were safe because his grandma hadn’t passed the test and now they
were going to eat lunch and go back to the home. Then he wrote:
Thanks for calling. It meant everything to hear your voice. Fuck everyone else.
I don’t know exactly what he meant by
“everyone else.” I had a hectic afternoon, I had a working lunch and then a studio visit and to be completely honest I forgot about his text. I never responded. I didn’t really
know how to answer so I just didn’t and then it was too late.
*
We stood on Kungsgatan. Empty cabs zoomed by us, one, two, four, six, ten of them. We just laughed.
“Hi, Guinness Book of World Records,” Samuel said. “It’s us again.”
“Don’t bother sending anyone over.”
“Stockholm is the same as ever.”
We walked up toward Sveavägen to test our luck there. There were two beggars lying under the bridge. Samuel stopped and read their signs. Then he placed two gold tenkrona coins in
one’s mug and put a fifty-krona bill in the other’s. He just did it, without checking whether anyone was looking, without seeming proud. I looked at him and thought that he was a very
unusual person. Not because he gave money to beggars, but because he did it there and then, in the middle of the night, when no one was looking. Except for me.
*
Panther is quiet, thinking back. Just so you know, that last text sounds more dramatic now that I’m telling you about it. But I definitely should have responded. I could
have written, like,
Take it easy bro, I’m here for you, you’re not alone, everyone has felt the way you’re feeling at one point and you’ll make it, don’t worry,
don’t let go, hold on.
But of course I didn’t [pausing, looking out the window]. Okay, damn it, that’s enough, would you stop looking at me like I’m so guilty? [Standing
up, walking to the bathroom.] What the hell is with you, what the hell do you want, I didn’t have time [slamming the
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