Silent Woods

Chapter 1I couldn’t sleep. Anders would laugh at me, I knew he would, but I couldn’t help it. The thought of spending the night anywhere other than under a solid roof had me tossing and turning. I had never wanted to sleep under an open sky—or in a tent for that matter. Until Anders persuaded me to buy this house, I’d lived my entire life in a flat. But our three rooms and bath made him feel closed in, so he had pleaded, begged, for us to move. I never could say no when he begged, and I loved this house—our home—but camping? I’d always thought that the love I had for my husband was unconditional, but this was stretching it. When we’d first moved here, even our own garden was a little scary, it seemed like wilderness to me, and we were surrounded by houses. It wasn’t like there were any wild animals in our little part of the suburbs, though the Spanish slugs that invaded made me cringe. Anders knew this; still, he wanted us to go off into the hinterlands. In the morning we would pack the car, take the kids, and head out for the forest. He had made it sound like such a good idea—live in a tent for a couple of days, like real adventurers. Let the kids experience the nature. Naturally, I’d hesitated, but I didn’t want the children to grow up and become like me—nature freaked me out. The creepy animals out there gave me nightmares, not to mention the absence of people. If I were to meet someone in the forest, I’d be certain he or she was a criminal—why else would they hide in the forest? But I didn’t want the kids to be like me, so in the end, I’d said yes. The kids—little traitors—were over the moon. Seemed like sleeping in a tent was far more exciting than sleeping in a hotel. No wonder I’m the boring father, and he’s the fun one. I’d wanted us to go to another country, to Denmark and visit Legoland, or go by train to Berlin. But Anders thought that they were too young, at least Maja who’d just turned three. She’d be bored even before we’d reached the motorway, and she wouldn’t remember anything from her first trip abroad. No, Anders had wanted us to do something in our own country. We could find something here in Sweden that the kids would get a thrill out of and still keep it simple. I had grumbled my agreement, even though I knew it meant I could kiss my hotel room goodbye. Anders had always been close to nature, hiking, fishing, even orienteering, before he met me. He wanted to teach the kids what he knew about plants, and animals, and other woodsy stuff. Hell, Axel already recognised more trees than I did, and he was five! Even Maja could point out a birch tree without making any mistakes. And I thought that was great, I did; I just didn’t want to be a part of it. A stroll in the park was enough wildlife for me. But Anders had looked at me with puppy eyes, and I’d thought what the heck; at least I’d be with him in the wilderness. How bad could it be? The closer we came to departure, the more convinced I became that it would be really, really bad. And now, a mere six hours before we were to leave this safe haven behind us, I was sure that the following two days would be the worst in my entire existence. Apprehension filled my chest. I was overreacting, people went camping all the time—they even enjoyed it. But no matter what I told myself, worry continued to course through me, making it impossible to relax. This trip was a terrible idea. What had I been thinking when I agreed to this? We only had two weeks off together this summer, and at first, I’d thought we could spend one of those two weeks away somewhere. I hadn’t been thinking about camping, that’s for sure. Still, when Anders suggested we’d only be gone for two nights, I’d thought it made for a pretty short holiday. Anders had laughingly told me that it would be enough, and since he wanted us to go camping again sometime in the future, two nights would probably be stretching the limit for how much I was willing to endure. It annoyed me when he said things like that, pissed me off that he most often was right. I sometimes felt inadequate where Anders was concerned. I knew nothing about wildlife, or how to survive more than a day if the power went out. I was no prima donna, but I wasn’t a lumberjack either. Sometimes Anders made fun of me—just because he was such a He-Man in the woods. Now, I wished I’d swallowed my pride and negotiated us down to one night. One night sounded far more bearable than two. I heaved a sigh, kicked off the cover, and flipped over onto my back. The room was briefly illuminated by a passing car, and Anders grunted in his sleep. I exhaled and flexed my toes. It was as if ants were marching up and down my legs, and even though I tried to lie still I had to move again. It was probably just the thought of being out in the open that made my stomach churn, nothing else. I was working myself up over nothing. As if Anders could sense me being unsettled, even though he was sleeping, he turned around and tried to gather me close. I turned to my side and let him. I loved how he always made me the little spoon, even though I was quite a bit larger than he was, both in width and height. He was a wiry little thing, but strong and protective. He rested his forehead between my shoulder blades, and his fingers found their way in under the waistband of my boxers, nestling in the hair on my abdomen. I closed my eyes and smiled. He always held me like this. Gradually, the tension left my body. Anders would make everything okay out there. He would look after Maja, Axel and me, and no evil creatures of the forest would come knocking on the canvas of our tent. * * * * “Daddy! Daddy! Are we gonna go now? Is the car ready?” I groaned. Axel was screaming in my right ear. Anders groaned too, and burrowed down close to me, before pulling the cover up to our chins. “Dad!” “Mm?” Anders answered tiredly. “Are we going to go or not?” Axel demanded. “I wanna come too.” Maja gripped the cover, prepared to burst into tears if she wasn’t allowed to come along. “Of course, you’re gonna come too, Sweetheart.” I took her hand, and she smiled as she climbed up between us—kneeing Anders in the belly on her way. “I want to pet the elks.” I held in a snort. “You need to talk to Dad about that.” I motioned to Anders and tried to tune out the prattling next to me. It was hard not to smile when Anders failed to make her see why she couldn’t pet the elks, though. Axel crawled up on the other side of me. “Daddy?” His voice was a low but excited whisper. “Mm?” “When are we gonna go?” “Later.” I closed my eyes, and hoped he would be quiet, despite knowing there would be no more sleep today. “But, Daddy, Dad said we would go when we woke up, and everyone is awake.” I sighed, wondering what time it was. Please be past six, please be past six. I groped for the phone on the bedside table. It was past six: 06:13 glared at me from the display. I groaned, again. Once, just once, I would like to sleep in on a day off. It wouldn’t even have to be that late—eight would be lovely. It would be as if I’d slept half the day away. “Everyone has to eat breakfast before we go.” I poked Anders lightly in the ribs—satisfied with the grunt I got in response. He’d started this madness by telling the kids; he could deal with it. We’d never been the kind of people who slept till noon, but before we got the kids, it happened that Anders and I could be found in bed at ten on a day off. I don’t regret having them—never—but sometimes I wonder what our lives would have looked like if we hadn’t—eating in restaurants, drinking wine until late in the evening, going away at the weekends. God, I missed going to concerts. People say you don’t have to give up those things just because you’ve become a parent, and I’m sure others could manage. But Anders and I had been out to a restaurant maybe once since we came home from Argentina with our children three years ago. I couldn’t think of anything more adventurous than flying halfway around the globe to become a parent though, so maybe it was okay that we hadn’t done much besides being fathers these past years. Since Maja and Axel are biological siblings, they had been adopted out together, and I was very happy about that—both because they would have each other in the future, and because I couldn’t stand to go through the adoption process again. It was nerve-racking, and at thirty-six my adventurous days were behind me. “Well, can we eat now, Daddy?” “Soon…As soon as you get lazybones here—” I nudged Anders “—to get up, and make us some breakfast.” “Dad, Dad! Breakfast!” Oh, finally both of them were focusing on Anders. I sighed, burrowed further down under the cover that smelled of fabric conditioner and safety, and let myself drift as Anders got up.