“WHAT DID YOU THINK?” Fabian asked as soon as they left their seats. He regretted his question at once. He personally abhorred being asked that right after seeing a movie. He still blushed whenever he thought of the TV4 reporter who had shoved a microphone in his face to ask his opinion after the unsubtitled premiere of Quentin Tarantino’s Reservoir Dogs at the Stockholm Film Festival. Fabian had told her that he’d hardly understood any of the rapid-fire dialogue but he’d liked the music at least, and he followed up with an ooga-chaka-ooga-shaka.
“It was fine,” Theodor answered with a shrug. It was obvious that Theodor had enjoyed the movie, but Fabian didn’t mention it. Fabian had liked Inception a lot and had been looking forward to it for more than a year.
He’d had a weakness for action movies for as long as he could remember. But he preferred those that went deeper than just thrills. Some of his favourite films fit into that category — Star Wars, for example. He remembered seeing it for the first time, gasping during the opening scene as the nearly endless spaceship zoomed along. He had never seen anything like it. And the film only got better from there. When the final battle on the Death Star was over, twelve-year-old Fabian had staggered out of the movie theatre on shaky legs, forever changed.
Fabian looked around in confusion before he realized that they’d exited onto the back street of Smedjegatan instead of through the main entrance on Södergatan.
“How about a spin?”
Theodor looked at him quizzically, which was the very reaction Fabian was hoping for. He explained that a spin was one of the activities that made Helsingborg one of the best cities in the world. It involved getting on the ferry to Helsingør on a one-way ticket and then staying there, eating and drinking tax-free, until you didn’t know which country you were in. Theodor shrugged an uninterested okay.
*
FABIAN AND THEODOR WERE shown to one of the window tables in the restaurant area, where the tables were set with white cloths and candles. Fabian let Theodor order whatever he wanted and they both decided on hamburgers with fries and large Cokes. He asked Theodor how it felt to move to a new city, but he received only monosyllabic, uninformative answers. They felt like nails in the coffin of their relationship, lifeless and beyond salvation.
Once they were done eating, silence lay across the table like a wet blanket, sucking up most of the oxygen in the air. The waitress came over, asked if they were finished, and started clearing their table.
“Would you like any dessert?”
“Theo? What do you think?”
“No, that’s okay. I’m full.”
“Nothing more to drink either? Another Coke?”
“No, I’m fine.”
“I’m going to have a beer, please.”
The waitress nodded and disappeared. I’m sure she gets it, Fabian thought, gazing out the window. Helsingør Harbour was approaching far too slowly. And they still had half the journey left.
He regretted giving in to Sonja’s pressure to take out Theodor. This whole plan had been her idea — talk about making a chore out of something that should be fun. It was doomed to fail.
He probably would have refused to speak if he were in Theodor’s place.
“You’re not still upset about Sweden Rock, are you?”
Theodor rolled his eyes and appeared to be looking for somewhere to escape to.
“Just so you know, we only said no out of concern. I’m sure you can go next year or the year after.”
“Sure.” Theodor’s eyes were glued to his empty Coke glass.
“So how does it feel?”
“What?”
“You know... the move and everything.”
“You already asked me that question.”
“I know, but I didn’t get much of an answer. Are you happy with your room?”
Theodor shrugged mutely.
“Well, you’ve certainly spent a lot of time shut away in there recently, so it must not be that bad.” He sighed and wondered what else he should say. “I know it must be tough with your friends and everything, but I’m absolutely certain that —”
“Oh my God, stop bugging me about that! Did I say it was tough? Huh? Did I?”
“Theo, take it easy. That’s not what I meant.”
“Then what the hell did you mean? You and Mom are the ones having a tough time, which is why we moved in the first place. You don’t think I get that?”
The arrival of his beer three minutes later broke the silence and was like a slap in the face. It felt like definitive proof of his failure as a father, a role he apparently couldn’t handle without alcohol. He decided not to touch his drink and prepared himself for a long trip home.