The door flew open and banged against the wall. Sofia was so startled she almost dropped her book. Oswald stood in the doorway with a sheaf of papers in one hand, dressed in gym clothes, sweat dripping from his forehead. He looked unusually smug; his eyes were truly burning.
‘The new theses!’ he cried in triumph, holding up the papers. There was nothing about him that hinted at what had happened the day before. Here he stood, her rapist, speaking to her as if they were the best of friends. She wondered if he was so insane that she might be able to convince him to let her go.
Then she saw that he was disgustingly big and hard under his running tights and quickly turned away. Did his own religious nonsense turn him on, or was he planning to assault her again?
As he closed and locked the door, she hurried to set the family history on the bedspread.
‘Did you read it?’ he asked.
‘No, I was just about to start,’ she lied. She didn’t want him to quiz her about its contents. Not until she was done reading.
He placed the stack of papers neatly on the table by the door.
Then he came over and sat on the bed.
‘I was finishing up my spinning session when it struck me that you have to read the theses. Then you’ll understand how serious your betrayal is.’
‘Let me go!’ The words just slipped from her mouth. ‘You’ve punished me, so let me go.’
‘Oh sweetie, what you call “punishment” was no one-night stand. You mean more to me than that, don’t you understand?’
‘You are horrid. You cannot keep me here any longer.’
His eyes narrowed. He grabbed her by the hair and pulled her face close. She tried to twist away, but he only pulled harder, until she cried out.
‘Acceptance,’ he said. ‘That’s what these new theses are about. The thin line between life and death. Accepting the role life has given you. In your case, it’s all about placing your life in my hands. Do you remember Lily?’
‘Who?’
‘She was my girlfriend here on the island when I was young. We played with ropes and whips and so forth. One night she started to struggle. It didn’t end well. For her, that is. Don’t make the same mistake as Lily.’
‘Jesus Christ, you monster! As if that scares me.’
‘But it does, Sofia. If it doesn’t now, it will when there’s a leather strap around your neck. I can promise you that.’
He pulled her closer, his cold lips brushing her forehead.
‘Oh, darling. There’s so much life in you. Far too much for your own good.’
He went to the table and picked up the stack of papers. As he sat back down beside her, he set them in front of her.
‘These are the notes I made in prison. The new theses. It was while I was working on these that I succeeded in reaching what we might call the core of life. I tried out a few of the exercises on the inmates there at Skogome. You better believe they were psyched up after that. There’s an overview – I’d like you to read that first.’
She looked down at the stack, which must have been a decimetre thick, and hoped he wouldn’t make her read out loud. On the topmost sheet was a note written in red pen, scribbled down in large, sprawling letters. Fucking illiterate. Sofia looked up at him, baffled.
‘Oh, don’t mind that,’ he said. ‘My new secretary was supposed to type up my notes, and she’s not as efficient as you were. As you can see. In any case, you can read all that later. This is what I wanted to show you.’
He browsed for a moment, then pulled a sheet from the bottom of the pile. He smoothed it out and placed it on her lap. She read it silently to herself.
A fact all the great thinkers have overlooked.
The thin line between life and death.
True strength and power are located on this very line.
Jesus and his sheeple preach love and understanding.
The Buddhists try to obliterate desire.
The existentialists: Death is final; the flame can never be rekindled.
Religious oddballs: Resurrection! Reincarnation!
Life OR death.
Black OR white.
All of humanity is fumbling blindly.
Only I can distinguish that line.
The border between the two sides.
THERE lies all the power you will ever come across.
Between them.
There, and nowhere else.
She looked up at him, fighting the urge to laugh, frantically trying to look serious. He gazed at her expectantly as she desperately fumbled for something good – and above all, deep – to say. Something to buy her more time. Time to find a way to escape. She’d survived any number of his idiotic riddles and little tests in the past. All she had to do was come up with something he hadn’t thought of himself. ‘The line doesn’t exist. You can’t see it, only feel it. That’s the point,’ she forced herself to say.
His gaze became introspective. Then he began to nod slowly, running his hand over his stubble. There was that smile – the one his eyes hinted at although it never quite reached his lips.
‘That’s right, Sofia. Exactly! You understand. I’ll be damned – you get it. Not bad. Maybe now you know why you’re here and not out there with all the average meatball-eaters. Well done!’
He rose hastily and patted her on the head.
‘Now I have to go shower. Read the family history. We can talk about it when you’re done. After that, you can read my notes. I’ll leave them here.’
He took the stack of papers and left it on the table by the door. He lingered a moment before leaving the room with both hands making victory signs.