Old Bonds

NOTE: Mentions of child death. Also sort of a sequel/prequel to my story "My Fault".

Loke was certain that his mother was hiding something.

It all had started a year ago when some random cop had come knocking at their door. The cop, Markus, had asked for his sister, Saga. She hadn’t been home at the time, but Loke had let Markus into his home anyway. Loke hadn’t planned to bond with a stranger that quickly, if Markus hadn’t asked about his shirt. It was nothing special, just an old piece of Led Zeppelin merch he had gotten from a second hand store. Loke had told him that he did enjoy their music. The cop had smiled, before revealing that it was one of his favorite bands. From then on they had spent at least an half an hour talking about bands. They hadn’t agree with everything. For example Loke had deemed Iron Maiden to be the greatest band of the New Wave of British Heavy Metal, while Markus had claimed that the crown belonged to Def Leppard. Nor had they decided whether Deep Purple or Black Sabbath had been the most important band for the genre in question. Though they did share the sentiment that KISS, aside from their gimmick, was the most overrated band of all time and that success didn’t determine the worth of a band’s music. Loke had enjoyed their conversation. As a matter of fact, he did like the cop with the ugly scar running to the left over his lips and cheek. He had never at any point given Loke any funny looks, nor had he given Loke one of those stiff smiles before commenting on how opinionated he was. It was refreshing for certain. Even though Loke’s mother and grandfather did encourage him to be himself, it was clear that they didn’t always understand him either. Saga never tried to understand, the only thing she would do was to call him a nerd and throw a pillow at his head. Unfortunately their conversation had been cut short once Saga came home and Markus had to return to his duties. As the interrogation had come to a closure, mom had come home from work. She had stopped at the threshold, grocery bags in her hands and eyes blown wide as she saw the cop sitting at her kitchen table. Markus had in turn seemed equally as surprised to see her, before he had hastily left their home. His excuse had been that he had some things to take care of at the office. Loke didn’t believe that for a second. No, he had a feeling that his mom and the cop knew each other.

Later that evening, when they had watched a sitcom Loke never cared to memorise the name of, only that it was one of the old ones that his mom fancied, had he dared to bring it up.

“Do you know each other?”he had asked. His mom had watched him curiously as she kept knitting.

“Who?”she asked.

“You and the cop,”Loke stated. His mom had gotten a confused and frightened look in her eyes, which she tried to conceal with a smile.

“But, Loke, what makes you believe that?”she had asked, not being able to hide a tremble in her voice.

“Seemed like it,”Loke had replied. “You both looked surprised to see each other.”

She had put her knitwork in her lap as she had let her gaze wander to the floor, which she always did when she was considering to tell him something. Eventually she had given him a soft genuine smile and said:

“It’s nothing special, dear. We are old schoolmates, you see. I haven’t seen him for at least twenty years and I had never expected him in my home. That’s all.”

Then she had watched him with a mother’s loving and concerned gaze.

“It worries me sometimes how clever you are. I wish I could see the world through your eyes, see the signs that lead you to so many puzzles and mysteries in life. It must be so interesting.”

Loke hadn’t believed her for a second, there had to be more. At this time, he had decided to not press on. He knew that the past had always been a sensitive topic to her. He knew that he couldn’t ask his grandfather either. The only response he had gotten from him was:

“Your mom doesn’t want me to tell you. Maybe she’ll tell you when you are old enough to understand.”

Everything had changed one fateful day, when Saga had been forced off a cliff, after catching an intruder in their home. Loke still had nightmares of her mangled body, twisted and broken from the fall. She had called him, scared as a small child, and he hadn’t gotten home fast enough to stop it. However, his grief had been nothing compared to their mother’s. She had wailed in sorrow once she had received the news of her daughter’s death. It was a sound that would haunt Loke’s nightmares for the rest of his life. Markus, who had been present at the time, had forced everyone to leave the room. Before Loke had closed the door behind him, he had thrown a glance over his shoulder, only to see the scarred cop holding his mother in a firm but caring embrace. Sure, some could explain that as a cop’s attempt to calm a hysterical mother. Though that didn’t explain the way his mother had almost desperately clung to Markus’s frame, nor the simultaneously warm and regretful gaze in Markus’s eyes. Loke knew that his mother was the woman to throw herself in any man’s arms. And why would you look at anyone like Markus had, unless there were something deeper between them? As the door had closed, Loke recalled a conversation he had with Saga a few days before the tragedy had struck.

“You know, you kinda look like the cop that was here yesterday.”

“Saga, what are you even talking about?”

“You have the same kind of eyes, dark and judgemental, like everyone is the dumbest person on the planet.”

“Shut up.”

“Ha, you are doing it again! I bet that guy is your dad!”

“Oh, fuck off, Saga.”

“Oink, oink, your daddy is a pig and he’s coming to take you on a ride in his piggy wagon!”

At the time Loke had only considered that to be Saga's usual behaviour. She had always enjoyed teasing him for the fact that he didn’t have a dad, as if it had been his own fault that mom had gotten pregnant at the tender age of sixteen. He had always hated it, but now he’d do anything to hear her do it again.

After the incident, Loke found himself in front of a mirror more often than what could be considered healthy. He had always been considered an outlier in his family, with his dark hair and eyes, his tall and lanky body, his alert and analytical mind that seemed to be able to detect even the smallest changes around him. As he stared into the mirror, the similarities between him and Markus became harder to deny. Just as Saga had told him, the similarities between their eyes were almost uncanny. Dark and disproportionately big for a man, and able to pierce into anyone’s soul. The more he stared into those eyes, the more determined he became to find out the truth. Saga had been the first one to mention it, and considering everything that had happened, Loke felt like he owed her this. 

If his grandfather refused to tell him anything and his mother, after losing her daughter, wasn’t able to tell him, he decided to talk to the third person who might have any insight on this. His grandmother, whom he had never met. The reason was that she had practically disowned her daughter for getting pregnant out of wedlock, prompting the divorce between his grandparents. Since then his grandmother had never bothered to contact them. A quick google search told him that his grandmother still lived in the same town where his mother had lived as a child. The first thing that struck him once he set foot outside his mom’s childhood home was that the house was big to say the least. Loke had always been used to cramped and old apartments, which was the most his mother could afford with her low salary. Despite his grandfather trying to pitch in some money, mom had always refused his help. Now, it hit Loke that she had grown up during very different circumstances than him and he wasn’t certain whether to admire her or condemn her. With a deep breath he knocked on the dark wooden door. Behind it Loke could hear swift muffled footsteps, before the door creaked open. The grey haired woman behind it was crooked and sullen from a life heavy with whatever burdens she had endured. She glared at him with cold grey eyes, confused and annoyed by the young man’s presence. 

“Who are you?”she asked. “And what are you doing here?”

The tone of her voice told Loke clearly that his visit was anything but appreciated. 

“Sorry for disturbing you,”he replied calmly. “My name is Loke and I’m here regarding my mother.”

The woman’s eyebrows furrowed, as she tried to place him. 

“What do I have to do with your mother?”she scoffed. Loke couldn’t help but give her a crooked smirk. 

“I would say a lot, considering that she lived here for about sixteen years,”he replied. The woman’s eyes shot wide open, radiating with fear and hatred, as if the devil himself had shown up on her doorstep.

“You,”she spat. “I should have known that you were bred by that little tramp.”

The venom in her voice appalled Loke. He had only been here for a few minutes, and this woman, who didn’t even know him, hated him like he was her worst enemy. 

“What tramp?”he asked. 

“You have his eyes,”the woman continued, without answering his question. “The same judgemental eyes. I’d hoped I’d never had to stare into those ever again, but here you are.”

She looked him up and down, most certainly deeming him unworthy of any affection.

“I suppose that you know who my father is then?”Loke said, not faltering once. “Judging by your warm greeting, I suppose you don’t exactly like him.”

“And you even speak the same way,”the woman continued. “Like you are above everything and everyone. I bet you are as much of a scum as he was.”

Loke knew that he should feel some kind of a sting for being hated by someone who should show him the most devoted and unconditional love, but at this point he was just grateful that his mother had never allowed him to meet his grandmother. It was clear from her deep disdain for him, that she saw him as nothing else but a filthy bastard that had stolen her daughter from her. 

“Please tell me how my father was a scum,”Loke asked. His grandmother gave him a smile that seemed more like a sneer, before answering:

“I’ll tell you, boy. He was a lying abusive little piece of shit. He put so much shit into my daughter’s head that it reeked of it, pretending that he loved her. He’d always put us down, as if we were beneath him for not being as filthy rich as his father.”

Her grin grew even wider as she added:

“He got what he deserved for hurting our daughter. His daddy made sure of it. He told us that Markus was a difficult child, always fighting and lying to get his will across.”

To say that Loke was confused, would be an understatement. This was not what he had imagined, at all. 

“You’re lying,”he whispered.

“Not my problem that you can’t handle the truth, boy,”the elderly woman huffed. “But then again, nor could your scumbag of a father.”

While Loke drove back home, the thoughts kept swirling in his head. Even though one part of him was certain that his grandmother had been lying, since it seemed like she was incapable of liking anyone at all. Yet the thought of Markus hurting his mom gnawed on his heart and made it ache. What if that was the truth? But why would his mother threw herself in the arms of an abuser of hers? She had left Saga’s father the minute he landed a hand on her, so why would she act any different now? Yet she had looked frightened when she came home to find Markus in the kitchen with both of her kids. This revelation had made Loke even more determined to search for the truth. If no one from that time wanted to tell him, he knew exactly where to look. When he got the chance, he snuck up to the attic where they stored a lot of stuff. If mom had saved something from her past, it should be up there among the rest of the garbage. He spent hours searching every box and shelf, without finding anything of value. As he was prepared to give up, he stumbled upon a small box. Inside there were several photos that all were dated to the early 21t century. He picked them up and gasped when he recognized his mother. She had been so young then. Baby fat still laced her otherwise heart shaped face and her blue eyes sparkled in a way Loke had never seen them do. It was like this young girl had not a single worry in the world. Nowadays, especially since the loss of her daughter, she seemed constantly burdened by the weight of life. Maybe it wasn’t really that unexpected, having to look after her two children on her own. Still it broke his heart to see her so happy, knowing how her life turned out. It didn’t take him long until he found a photo of Markus. He looked vastly different from his roughened self Loke knew, no stubble nor scars adorning his face. If Loke had denied his likeness to this man, he wouldn’t have been able to do it now. The dark tired eyes staring back at Loke was a reflection of his own. Unlike his mother, Markus already had a seriousness that was unusual for a teenager. The gaze in his eyes was vigilant, hostile even. This made Loke wonder if his grandmother had been right, or if there was a different reason behind Markus’s grim expression. This thought was immediately disproven by the next photo. It was dated to January 2001 and showed Loke’s mother and Markus. They stood face to face, snow in their hair, their eyes sparkling in a way that could only be the intoxicating feeling of young love. Loke could feel his eyes tear up. They looked so happy? What had happened between them? This odd feeling of loss got stronger when Loke looked at the next photo. It was taken on the same day, the only difference was that they had closed the small distance between them for a kiss. A small tear ran down Loke’s cheek. Is this what could have been? They looked so young and in love, and somehow it had all burned down to ashes. Loke threw a glance down in the box, and let it fall on the small notebook in the bottom of it. A diary. He hesitated at first. It wouldn’t be right to poke around in his mothers past, not like this. However, curiosity got the better of it and he picked up the tiny book and started to read.

It was on shaking legs he made his way back into the apartment. All the words he had read swirled around in his head and made him unable to speak. Even though he had gotten all of his questions answered, he couldn’t really take it in. All he needed was his mother’s reassuring voice that nothing would change after this. However, as he found her on the couch in the living room, he realized that he wasn’t the only one who was speechless. She sat with her legs curled against her chest, letting out sharp breaths as her eyes stared petrified at the television screen before her. As he followed his gaze, he saw a news feature about some business man by the name Erik Ståhl getting interviewed. Loke could feel his stomach turn as he saw his mother’s perpetrator with a beaming smile talk about how important justice was, claiming that he had been falsely accused of murdering a woman two years earlier.

“It’s so depressing what this world has come into, with social media it seems like you can just spread rumors far and wide, without any consequences. I’m for one am glad that the Swedish Justice system still has some sense.”

Loke wondered if anyone could see what he saw. The man’s smile was blinding everyone, making them unable to see the cold calculating gaze in the man’s ice blue eyes. Even without his current knowledge, Loke would have instantly known that this man could not be trusted. He hurried to his mom, who was starting to shiver and whimper where she sat. Loke sat down next to her and held her like she had used to do with him when he was in distress. She clung to him as she sobbed violently. He rubbed small circles on her back, as he whispered:

“I know, mom, I know. I know what he did…”

However, his gaze never broke from the television, anger corroding his insides like acid as the man kept spewing lie after lie for everyone who wanted to hear.

And I’ll make sure that he pays a hefty price for his crimes.