Family

Ali meets Bengt's father in the a very awkward situation.

     It’s been a week since I first started living at Bengt’s house, or in his room to be exact. It all seemed to be unreal. At first, I thought it was a horrible idea for him to keep me in here for so long without telling his parents, but I’m very grateful for what he has been doing for me.
    Bengt snuck me into a couple of showers, thank goodness. He’s made me food everyday to bring to school, and his parents (for like his mom) aren’t tired of me yet. Something had been bothering me lately. I haven’t seen Bengt’s father around.
    Bengt doesn’t talk about him much, and whenever Emelie speaks of him it is always to talk about how much he works. I am really curious to know what he looks like. Does he look like an older version of Bengt? It’s a possibility considering that it’s his father. Bengt told me that his father rarely shows emotions on his face. Does that mean he is really apathetic to the core? Can I even read his mind to find out?
    To tell the truth, I’m a little scared to meet his father. I’ve grown up in a father-free house all my life, so I have no idea how to act around a father or father-figure. Perhaps I’ll screw it up somehow. I can’t think like that or else I really will screw it up.
    All I really know about Bengt’s dad is that he rarely shows emotions, he’s sometimes heartless, and he is amazing at throwing knives. Speaking of knives, I’ve always wanted to see Bengt in action when he threw them. After he told me what he did to his grandfather, I’ve been curious to know how he does it.
    As I thought all of this, I was laying on Bengt’s bed with Barry at my side. Bengt was out with his mom getting some groceries. It was Saturday, and Bengt has already made it known to his mother that I would be spending the whole day with them. I didn’t mind that. I really liked Emelie, and she really was the sweetest thing on the planet. The only thing was is that I will meet Bengt’s dad one day, and hopefully I am ready for it.
    Bengt’s bedroom door opened, and said boy poked his head through. ‘Ali, are you in here?’
    “No duh,” I said with sarcasm, “I’ve been here for what seems like forever.”
    ‘Sorry, Ali,’ Bengt apologized, ‘I didn’t think you wanted to come with us. Can you come help bring all the stuff inside?’
    “Sure.” I hopped off the bed and made my way down the stairs. Emelie was carrying in two bags at a time with her small but lengthy arms. I immediately went to help.
    We brought it a lot of bags, a lot more than I thought there would be. They must go shopping like this every month, considering it was the first Saturday of the month. Copious bags littered the kitchen, and Emelie looked over to see that everything was there.
    ‘Thank you, Ali,’ she said to me, ‘You were a big help.’
    “It’s no problem, Emelie,” I said back, “I’ll gladly help you with anything.”
    ‘You are just the sweetest thing.’ She pinched my cheek lightly with a smile. She walked around the kitchen island and after pausing for a moment, she stomped her foot on the ground in a fit of anger.
    ‘What’s wrong, mom?’ Bengt asked her.
    ‘I forgot to get new measuring cups!’ she exclaimed, ‘I thought I told you to remember those!’
    ‘You can’t blame that one on me, mom,’ Bengt argued.
    Emelie shook her head. ‘We’ll have to go back and get them. Ali, dear, could you start putting these away for us? We’ll be right back.’
    “Sure,” I replied, beginning to go through the paper bags.
    ‘Can’t I stay here and help?’ Bengt asked.
    Emelie pouted. ‘But Bengt, you know I hate going alone to stores. Besides, Ali knows where everything is. She’s been here many times.’
    Oh I’ve been here for a while, a week to be exact. I remained silent, however. I couldn’t give myself away like that.
    Emelie strode up to me and kissed my forehead, saying, ‘Thank you, sweetie. We’ll be back shortly.’
    I blushed and said, “Be safe.”
    Bengt gave me a smile before following his mom back outside. When the door shut, I was once again alone. I sighed loudly and began putting things away.
    It was scary being alone in the house. The house was nowhere near as old as it could be, but I still heard the creaks and groans of the foundation. Every creak put me on edge, so I began to hum softly to myself.
    The door once again opened, but since I was in the kitchen, I had no idea who it was. I figured it was Bengt or Emelie, even though they had just left. Maybe they had forgotten something. I remained in the kitchen, humming softly still, when I heard heavy boots walking through the house. Neither Bengt nor Emelie were even wearing boots when they walked out.
    My heart rate sped up as I turned to wait for whomever. The footsteps grew closer and finally I saw a pair of black work boots enter the kitchen. I followed them upwards to see who they belonged to.
    A man with short blond hair and strikingly blue eyes stood in the kitchen with me. He was very tall and wore a uniform; I assume it was for work. His face was sullen as he stared straight at me. I gulped nervously as he spoke.
    “Who are you?”
    “Uhh…” I stammered out, “I’m Ali…”
    He took a step forward. “Okay, Ali. Why are you in my house?”
    His house, I thought; then it hit me. The tallness, the blue eyes and blond hair, and the expression on his face, this must have been Bengt’s father. What a great way to meet him, right?
    “You must be Mr. Norgen,” I said politely. I never had to use Bengt’s last name due to his mother wanting me to call her by her first name. I had a feeling I shouldn’t call Bengt’s dad by his first name, even though I didn’t know it. “My name is Ali, and I’m a friend of Bengt’s. Mrs. Norgen asked me to start putting things away for her while she and Bengt went to go get measuring cups.”
    I felt stupid saying that, but it was the truth. I really hoped me believed me, even though it sounded too dumb to be the truth. I put my hand out for a friendly handshake, hoping he would take it as a sign of peace.
    The sullen expression gave way to a more relaxed one. He still looked aloof, but at least he wasn’t as angry, I think. He gripped my hand firmly and shook it.
    There was a long pause afterwards. We stood there in the kitchen just staring each other down. It was quite awkward. I was relieved to hear the door open again. That must have been Bengt and Emelie.
    ‘Hasse, my darling,’ I heard Emelie shout in her mind, ‘I am so glad you are home.’
    Emelie clung tightly to her husband, who looked slightly embarrassed. Bengt stepped beside me and began speaking in his Sign Language.
    ‘Dad, this is Ali,’ he introduced me; ‘She’s my best friend.’
    “We’ve met,” he said, “She gave me quite a scare when I found her in the kitchen.”
    I gave a nervous laugh and looked to Bengt. I noticed that Bengt’s face matched his father’s. I wonder why that was.
    Hasse reached for his son’s head and ruffled his hair, “Play nice.”
    As he walked away I tried to think what he meant by that. His mind was terribly hard to read. It was like there was a mind block that was keeping me from getting information. Did he know about me and that is why he is blocking me out? Or is he always like that?
    Bengt let out a breath, a sound he could make without using his vocal cords. ‘Whew,’ he said, ‘I always get scared when I talk to my dad. He is a really scary guy sometimes. I’m sorry you had to meet him like that.’
    “Yeah,” I agreed, “It was scary when he just suddenly showed up and asked why I was here. Any particular reason he is like that?”
    ‘My mom thinks it’s a family trait,’ Bengt explained, ‘My grandfather on my father’s side had the same problem. Since I have it as well, it must be a family trait.’
    “You don’t always look like that,” I told him, “Most of the time you are doing that silly grin of yours.”
    Bengt showed a small smile, ‘I had years of practice.’
    What was that suppose to mean? Bengt obviously did not want to talk about it, so I let it go. I’d get the truth out of him one day.
    It was just afternoon when Emelie knocked on Bengt’s door to tell us that she was heading out.
    ‘I’m going to Ms. Mavis’s house around the corner for a bit,’ she explained, ‘I’ll be gone for a good hour or two, so you two be good. Also, Hasse is sleeping so try not to wake him up. I’ll be back in a bit,’ She gave Bengt and I kisses on the forehead before leaving.
    It was just the two of us, more or less, in the house. That gave me an idea.
    “Hey, Bengt?” I called.
    Bengt was sitting on the ground, playing himself in a game of chess. He glanced over to me to let me know that he was listening.
    I continued, “I’ve been wondering about something.”
    ‘Wondering about what?’ he asked in mild interest.
    “Can you still throw knives?”
    ‘Why do you ask?’
    “Well… Maybe you could, I don’t know, show me how you do it?”
    Bengt fully turned around, giving me a look of pure disbelief, ‘You aren’t serious, are you?! I could get in serious trouble if my parents found out! I promised my mom that I would never throw knives again!’
    “What about your dad? Did you promise him too?”
    ‘No,’ Bengt sighed, ‘But he didn’t teach me that so I could play with it. It’s super dangerous! What if I accidentally hit you?’
    I scoffed, “If you are as good as you say, you wouldn’t hit me at all, right? Please, Bengt? I would really like to see you try it! Maybe you could even teach me a little.”
    Bengt looked even more in disbelief, ‘You want me… to teach you how to throw? Are you insane?!’
    “Please? Please? Please?!” I begged. I had never begged for anything harder in my life. Well, other than for those school supplies from my mom in order to take down the school…
    Bengt sighed loudly in his mind. He went back to playing his chess game, ignoring me completely. I gave him a pout, but he refused to look at me.
    I gave a loud sigh, hoping he would get annoyed with me like at the time when we were at the nurse’s office. I let loose another sigh, and Bengt turned back around.
    ‘Why do you always do that?’
    “Because I like to get what I want,” I said. At least I was being honest.
    Bengt sighed again, ‘Fine, but we have to be quiet! My father is asleep, and I need to sneak into his room to borrow his knives. Wait for me out in the backyard.’
    “Alright,” I piped. I was so excited to finally see Bengt be cool for once. I snuck down the stair and into the kitchen. The backdoor that was next to the kitchen led to the backyard. I slid through it and was outside in the sun.
    The backyard wasn’t anything but green grass and a garden by the side. It was nothing special, but I liked the simplicity of it. No doubt that the garden belonged to Emelie for it was filled with a plethora of different red flowers.
    I hear the sliding glass door open and shut. Bengt had successfully gotten the throwing knives from his father’s room. Excitement bubbled inside of me as Bengt put the case on the patio table. He opened it to reveal all the knives in their respectful pockets. They were simple silver with black hilts.
    Bengt took a piece of chalk and made different sized circles all over the fence. When he was finished, he put the chalk away and strode up to me.
    ‘After we do this, we have to hose off the fence,’ Bengt explained, ‘If my mom sees those up, she’ll ask my father if he was practicing. And when my father says no, then we will be in big trouble.’
    “Got it,” I replied, “Now, show me what you’ve got.”
    Bengt gave me a smirk and took out a few knives. He stood pretty far from the fence, and he looked so focused. His eyes had fierce determination in them. With lightning fast speed, he threw his first few knives. Each one of the hit a middle inside a circle. Bengt grabbed a few more and repeated the process. I watched in awe at how fast he could sink the knives into the middles. Soon, all twenty knives were in the fence, and each one was in a middle.
    “Wow…” I whispered. It was all I could say. That had to have been the most awesome thing I had ever seen. “Could you do that again?” I asked.
    ‘Again?!’ Bengt whined, ‘I’ve already showed you once! Isn’t that enough?’
    “Nope,” I stated, “Please do it again.”
    Bengt sighed, but he walked over to collect all the knives. Once he was finished with that, he began to do it again. The sound of the knives in hitting the wood was constant, but then it stopped. All the knives were once again the middles.
    “You are so cool, Bengt!” I exclaimed, “Wow! That was awesome!”
    Bengt chuckled, ‘I’m glad you are so thrilled. Now let’s get this cleaned up before my dad wakes-’
    “Having fun?” a voice said from behind the door of us.
    We turned back to see Hasse closing the sliding glass and walking outside. I heard Bengt curse in a foreign language, most likely it was Swedish.
    Bengt began to explain himself via hand signs, but he was given a pat on the head as an answer.
    A small smile graced his face as I clearly heard him think, ‘I remember when I used to throw knives to impress a girl.'
    I wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. It was terrifying when he came outside; I seriously thought Bengt was going to be dead. However, I found out that his dad is actually quite nice. I smiled over at Bengt, who gave me a nervous one in return.
    “You better clean this up before your mother comes home,” Hasse warned, “She’ll kill us all if she finds out.”
    When Hasse left, Bengt put away the knives while I hosed down the fence. It was a good thing we did that so soon because as soon as the knives were returned to Hasse, Emelie came home.
    ‘Did you two have fun while I was gone?’ Emelie asked me.
    “Nothing is fun if you aren’t around, Emelie,” I joked.
    Emelie made a giggle and a pat on my head before going to put her things away.
    I met Bengt back in his room. He had Barry out and was giving him a brushing. I didn’t really care all that much. I think Barry likes him anyways.
    “Thanks for doing that for me,” I said, “It was really cool.”
    ‘You’re welcome, Ali,’ Bengt said with a smile.
    It was quite for the rest of the night. When I ‘went home’, which really meant climb back up to Bengt’s room, I laid on his bed comfortably. I thought about Bengt’s father and how nice he was. Here I thought he was some mean guy who had a mind block on him, but in reality he is a big softy. I wonder if I should tell Bengt that his father used the same method to pick up on girls. Nah, I think he needed to find that out on his own.
    I was so close to falling asleep when the bed moved. I looked over and saw Bengt lying comfortably on his side, snoring away. Maybe I should sleep too, I said to myself. And with that, I fell asleep, dreaming of Bengt and his knife throwing.

Author's Note

I really like Hasse's character. I think anyone who continues to read will too. ^^