“Er…not that I know of.”
He tugged at one sleeve of his shirt, revealing a wristwatch.
“Quarter past two,” Dagny said.
He smiled as if it were an unnecessary observation, pressed a button on the side of the watch, looked up and added: “Two and a half m-minutes.”
Was he going to time something?
Suddenly he had taken two long strides and was standing right in front of her. He smelled of bonfires.
And as if he could read her thoughts, he said: “I can smell you too. I smelled you when you were walking this way.” His lips were wet now, they curled like eels in a trap when he spoke. “You’re ov-ovulating.”
Dagny regretted stopping. But still she stood there, as if pinned to the spot by his stare.
“If you don’t struggle, it will soon be over,” he whispered.
It was as if she finally managed to pull free, and she spun around to run. But a quick hand had reached under her short jacket, grabbed hold of the belt of her trousers and tugged her back. She let out a short cry and glanced across the deserted cemetery before she was thrown against—and pushed into—the hedge that grew in front of the railings facing Ullevålsveien. Two powerful arms wrapped around her chest, holding her in a vise-like grip. She managed to take a deep breath to scream, but it was as if that was what he had been waiting for, because when she started to make a noise by letting the air out, the arms tightened the vise a bit more and emptied her lungs of air. She saw that he was still holding the curved metal snake in one hand. The other moved to her neck and squeezed. Her vision was already starting to blur, and even though one arm around her chest suddenly let go, she felt her body turn limp and heavy.
This isn’t happening, she thought as the other hand forced its way between her thighs from behind. She felt something sharp against her stomach just below her waistband and heard the tearing sound as the sharp object split her trousers from the belt in the front all the way to the belt loop at the back.This doesn’t happen, not in a cemetery in the middle of the day in the middle of Oslo. It doesn’t happen to me, anyway!
Then the hand around her neck let go, and inside Dagny’s head it sounded like when Mum blew air into the old inflatable mattress, as she desperately inhaled a mixture of Oslo’s spring air and the exhaust fumes of rush hour into her aching lungs. At the same time she felt something sharp pressed against her throat. She caught a glimpse of the curved knife at the bottom of her field of vision and heard his whispering, rough voice close to her ear:
“The first was a boa constrictor. This is a poisonous snake. One little bite and you die. So just stay perfectly still and don’t make a sound. That’s right. Just like that. Are you standing c-comfortably?”
Dagny Jensen felt tears running down her cheeks.
“There, there, everything’s going to be fine. Do you want to make me a happy man and marry me?”
Dagny felt the point of the knife press harder against her throat.
“Do you?”
She nodded cautiously.
“Then we’re engaged, my darling.” She felt his lips against the back of her neck. Right in front of her, on the other side of the hedge and railings, she could hear footsteps on the pavement, two people walking past, engaged in lively conversation.
“And now to consummate our engagement. I told you the snake pressed to your neck symbolises d-death. But this symbolises life…”
Dagny felt it and screwed her eyes tight shut.
“Our life. A life that we shall create now…”
He thrust forward, and she clenched her teeth to stop herself crying out.
“For each son I lose, I shall bring f-five more into the world,” he hissed into her ear as he thrust again. “And you wouldn’t dare destroy what we have created, would you? Because a child is the Lord’s work.”
He thrust a third time and ejaculated with a drawn-out groan.
He removed the knife and let go of her. Dagny loosened her grip and saw that the palms of her hands were bleeding from where she had grabbed the thorny hedge. But she didn’t move, stayed bent over with her back to him.
“Turn around,” the man commanded.
She didn’t want to, but she did as he said.
He was holding her purse, and had pulled out a bill.
“Dagny Jensen,” he read. “Thorvald Meyers gate. Nice street. I’ll be calling in from time to time.” He handed her the purse, tilted his head and looked at her. “Remember, this is our secret, Dagny. From now on I’m going to watch over and protect you, like an eagle you can never see, but one you know is always up there and it can see you. Nothing can help you, because I am a spirit that no one can catch. But no harm will come to you either, because we’re engaged now, and my hand rests upon you.”
