Under the Midnight Sun: a novella by Kim Golden

Author:Kim Golden [Golden, Kim]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Echo Books - Stockholm
Published: 2017-09-05T16:00:00+00:00

Her house still looked the same. He'd often wondered if her parents had tired of the terracotta render and painted another shade, or uprooted the rose hip bushes and replaced them with bland box hedges as so many of their neighbors had done, but nothing had changed.

Jonas pushed open the gate and was reassured that it still squeaked and groaned, just as it had so many years ago. The flagstone path leading to the front door brought so many memories back for him. All those times he'd walked or ridden past her house on the bus to the ice rink. He'd always made sure to sit on the side that would let him look up at her window. If he was lucky, he caught a glimpse of her and that was enough to keep him going until the next time they'd meet. Some nights he'd escape the claustrophobic pall of his parents' apartment and walk to her house, he'd come through the back gate and then climb the tree closest to her bedroom window. When the weather was warm, she left the window open for him and he'd climb in and whisper her name. Those nights, they'd pull her mattress on the floor and fumble out of their clothing, making love as quietly as they could. Even when his body ached from the daily hits he'd taken on the ice, even when he was so exhausted he could barely think straight. The desire to be with Mariam was all he knew. Back then he'd been so certain they would always be together. He’d imagined an entire life with her, never thinking the sport that had saved him would be what tore them apart.

He was nearly at her front door when one of the neighbors peeked over the top of the bushes. "Are you looking for Mariam?"

Jonas came to a stop. Even the neighbor was still the same. "Fru Svenningsson? Maybe you don't remember me."

The older woman adjusted her glasses. "Oh, I know who you are. The hockey player. Now how many years has it been?"

"At least ten, I think," Jonas said. He walked across the grass to bushes, wincing a little as his knee reminded him he’d need to rest soon. The heady scent of rose hips tickled his nose. "It's nice to know you're still living next door. I’d wondered how many things had changed."

“I’m not going anywhere. You know, I read about you in the papers. Aren't you supposed to be having dinner with the mayor?"

"That's later. I wanted to catch up with Mariam. Is she at home?"

"You just missed her." Fru Svenningsson carefully peeled off her gardening gloves. She patted her silvery hair and then fanned her face. "She's on her way to the center to help the children. That's what she does these days, now that she's left her job in Stockholm."

"Which center?"

"The youth center, she runs a program there that helps those poor refugee children who've arrived alone." She swatted at a mosquito that buzzed around the wide brim of her sun hat.

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