Hi everyone
To start with; if you are looking for a lot of steamy sex, look somewhere else. What interests me in a story is the build-up of a relationship and the romantic notion that love can be a healing power which is a possibility even for those most fucked up.
KÃ¥lrot and Lisa have both parts in "A Rolling Chair Gathers No Moss", but it is not necessary to read that story first. Hope you like this one, comments and votes welcome, have a good life.
Risgrynsfisk
*****
PET
"Huh?" KÃ¥lrot suddenly realized that she was talking to him, and apparently had been for a while.
"You haven't heard a word I was saying, right?" Lisa asked.
"Guilty." KÃ¥lrot did not look all that guilty, though. He tried his I-know-I-am-hopeless-but-at-least-I-am-cute smile, it usually worked. Not today.
"You haven't looked for a job either, have you?"
Lots of rhetorical questions today. Kålrot considered the definition of "rhetorical". It ought to mean a question where the goal is not to gain knowledge or, like a teacher, control another´s level of knowledge. The goal is instead to gain the upper hand in a discussion, some kind of verbal aggression, but civilized. Or, he supposed, verbal self defence. Were his smiles, then, also rhetorical? Their intent was not expressing amusement, but to placate someone. Could, then, his smiles be considered rhetorical smiles?
"And I can see damn well for myself that you have not done the dishes like you promised."
It was a misconception that smiles always were signs of positive feelings. In chimpanzees, for instance, smiling always was a sign of nervousness, of trying to placate someone of higher rank in the pack. Did he consider Lisa to be of higher rank? Well, yes. It was her flat, after all, and her wages from the pet-store paid for the food. Of course it was stupid to not have done the fucking dishes, he had meant to, but that article about beavers had got him thinking and suddenly Lisa was home and pissed.
"And I can also see you´re not fucking listening to me now. What are you thinking of now, that´s so important?"
"Well, beavers..."
"Beavers."
"Yeah, I saw this article. Did you know there´s a lot of beavers in this city? Right within the city limits!"
"Yes I knew that. Everyone who gets outdoors and has eyes in their heads knows that. KÃ¥lrot, do you seriously mean that you have neglected to do all those things you promised because you deemed it more important to think about beavers all day?"
"I just thought about them a little. Then I don't think I thought of anything at all, and then you were home. I think I had coffee at some point. Sorry about the dishes, I can do them now." He started to fill the sink. "Did you know that beavers collect branches and stick them in the mud to save them for the winter? Spends all winter below the ice, except when in their nest. But it must be cold, keeping warm by eating cold, wet twigs. I think I´d rather be a hedgehog. To sleep all winter would suit me perfectly."
Lisa didn´t listen, she was used to Kålrots monologues about whatever happened to turn up in his head. She wished she were somewhere else, somewhere quiet. Or goddammit, that Kålrot were somewhere else. It was her flat, after all.
Lisa felt a stab of deep sorrowpain. She still missed Nils terribly after these years. It was his flat, really, but his family was adamant that Lisa should have it after he died. His flat, his money, even his family was hers now. She felt much more cherished and safe with them than her own so-called family, who were the main reason she still needed therapy.
But things were better and she supposed that this fling with KÃ¥lrot was a step forward, towards life. It probably was a mistake though. She wished they were just friends again, like they had been for years. The benefits of being friends with, yeah benefits, were not enough to compensate for all the shit.
She got back to the kitchen and saw KÃ¥lrot intently staring at the wall, lips moving. The water in the sink was now cold and he had not washed a single nothing. Fuck. She tapped him on the shoulder, but he did not react. She hit him, and managed to get his attention.
"This is not working out!"
"What is not working out?"
"Us playing house. I like you, KÃ¥lrot, and at times I almost love you, but a lot of the time you irritate the fuck out of me."
"Yeah. I get that a lot."
"I´m sorry, but you need to get out. But no great hurry, I understand if you need time to find something else."
"No, no, I understand that you need a bit of space. No big deal, I´ll find something. I always do."
"You have any money?"
"Money? Well, I suppose not, but..."
"Here, have this."
"Hey, that´s real nice of you. Love you, Lisa. See you around."
Kålrot owned almost nothing. He had a big backpack, a camping mattress and a sleeping bag. Some clothes. A toothbrush. He was used to sleeping just about anywhere; some friend´s floor, outdoors if the weather permitted, or he shacked up with some girl who was feeling maternal. He had lots of friends and his cheerful acceptance of whatever happened was attractive to many girls, at least for a while. Then they parted, almost always as friends.
If he really had to he could sleep at his parents´ place for a while, but that was a bit of a pain since they always went on about all these things he ought to do, like finish school or get a steady job. They were right, of course, and he knew they were right and they knew they were right and they knew that he knew they were right, but that didn´t make it any easier for him to hold down a job. He always fucked it up: overslept, forgot, wandered off.
Kålrot suddenly discovered that he was hungry, and probably had been for quite a while. He didn´t think he had eaten that day. He got himself a kebab and wandered down to the creek to eat it. If he was lucky he might see a beaver.
Next time he thought about anything at all it was getting dark, and the probability of rain was in the air. Luckily one of his favorite sleeping spots was nearby, where the highway crossed he creek there was a wide-enough shelf and the bridge kept the rain away. To get there you had to get through some very thick thickets, which was good. He had never seen any signs of anyone else being there.
KÃ¥lrot slept well and long; he always did. He woke up rested and content, like he always did, and did not worry about where to sleep next night or where his next meal would come from. He never did. The rain had done its thing and left and the new day smelled good, apart from the fumes from the highway. There was a good place to take a morning dump in the creek and wash his arse. Everything was working out just fine and he sat basking in the sunlight, not thinking about anything, just existing. He was the effortless zen-master, he sometimes thought, his head was regularly zen-empty and he just as effortlessly lived in the here and now. Planning, though...
To his surprise noises were coming from the thicket. It was a thicket which it was very hard to move silently in and whoever was coming made enough noise to be heard through the ever-present didgeridoo drone of the highway. Was it possible that just one person could make that much noise? Yes, just one person, a pretty blonde.
"Hello." Kålrot said and tried to look as un-threatening as possible. He had a pretty good idea he didn´t look all that dangerous to begin with, but unthreatening is a look you can´t get too much of.
"Hello," the girl said, also in Swedish but with an unmistakable English accent. He was later to learn that hello was all she could say in Swedish.
"My name is KÃ¥lrot," he said in English, and from now on conversations are in English and no longer translated Swedish.
"I´m Jenny."
"Nice seeing you. Hardly anyone comes here. I sort of see it as my private part of the creek, but you´re welcome to come visit, of course. There´s supposed to be beavers in the creek round here. Haven´t seen them, though."
"I heard the woodpecker and tried to see it."
"Woodpeckers are cunning little beasts, always on the other side of the tree. At least if you look like someone who eats woodpeckers. Like you."
"I have heard a lot of lines on the theme of eating peckers, but that was a new one."
"I know where their nest is. You wanna see it? If we´re lucky we´ll get to see them feeding their kids."
"Sure. Great!"
They noisily made it through the thicket to another corner of it, where an old tree with a hole in the trunk was proud to house the woodpecker family.
"We have to be quiet and wait a bit," KÃ¥lrot said. "They heard us approach, of course. Even a deaf udder would have heard us."
"Adder," Jenny giggled. "Deaf adder. Udder is the tits on a cow."
"Bit of a besserpisser today?" KÃ¥lrot said. "But I do maintain that we made such a racket that an udder would have heard us."
They waited, quietly. KÃ¥lrot checked her out, very discretely of course, and lost himself in the cuteness of her left ankle and the small tattoo of a fox. There was something about that tattoo but, as usual, he was unable to focus on where he had seen it, or a fox looking just the same, before. He did what he did best, then - stopped trying and relied on the answer coming to him when it was ready.
Jenny watched him stop watching her (so much for very discreetly) and disappear somewhere else. He intrigued her. She was used to guys trying to impress her or get intimidated, even when they did not know who she was. This Kålrot fellow didn´t seem to give a damn about what she thought of him, and this indifference had nothing to do with arrogance. Right now he was just staring at the supposed woodpecker nest with an infinite patience she found strangely attractive.
Suddenly a biggish bird landed by the opening, and three (she thought) little heads appeared, begging for food. Something yummy-if-you-were-a-woodpecker was handed over and the parent bird was off again. The heads were visible a while longer, staring after their parent and muttering about the low quality of service at this restaurant.