The Birds (11 page)

But as far as that goes—

You can catch a fish when you least expect it, thought Mattis. So it isn’t me who’s being stupid this time.

His thoughts went back to a conversation he had had with Hege just before he climbed into the boat: “You think they’re laughing at you when they’re not doing anything of the kind.”

Yes, that’s what Hege had said. It came back to him now as he sat looking at all the farms. He tried to think of someone who really wanted to hurt him and who made fun of him. But apart from children who were always a nuisance he couldn’t point to a single one. They called him names behind his back, but people were like that. He found it all rather confusing.

Glug, the water said, and it began running into his shoes. He had to start bailing hurriedly.

I mustn’t think so much that I sink to the bottom, he said, bailing so fiercely that the water gushed over the side in a torrent. If I just think, the boat’ll soon get full and I’ll be drowned. I’d better do my thinking on dry land.

But he was soon deep in thought again, there was no stopping it. The fish weren’t biting either. He had plenty of time.

His thoughts wandered back to days and events long past. Most of them were shrouded in a kind of mist. It was his father who had
been the breadwinner when he was a child. His father was like Hege, small and untiring. Clever, too. Everyone was clever except him. As far back as he could remember there’d been trouble every time he’d tried to do any work. His father had given up. His mother had gazed at him as though she would never stop hoping for a change. Then she had died, before he was fully grown up. Only a few years later his father had been killed in an accident at work. It filled Mattis with horror every time he thought of it.

After that it had been just Hege and him. Things had gone on much as they did now for many years. He had no idea when he had first been called Simple Simon – but he saw it as a grim turning point in his life.

He looked across the shore, telling himself that no one wanted to hurt him. He thanked Hege for what she had said, and tried to hammer it in.

Then he was back bailing again. There was a quiet persistence about the water that was trying to drown him.

I want to live, I don’t want to be drowned!

If only he could catch a really big fish. Come home to Hege with a really big one.

The fish lay like thin, delicate shadows on the sandy shallows where his boat was bobbling and drifting about. They lay there idle, with nothing to do, just like Mattis himself. But terribly alert.
If Mattis as much as moved his hand the fish shot off into the dark depths below. They weren’t biting. Fishes were clever. Cleverness any way you turned.

And then there’s Hege, he thought suddenly.

Something wrong with Hege.

He hadn’t intended to let this worry him out here on the lake, but there was no escaping it: last night had been a bad night as far as Hege was concerned. That was why she’d sent him out on to the lake first thing in the morning.

He had woken up at midnight, and had heard something he didn’t like the sound of. It was coming from Hege’s room, and he tiptoed across and peeped in. He could just see Hege lying with her face turned to the wall. He’d switched on the light, but she hadn’t stirred.

Feelings of guilt had swept over him – if Hege was upset it was bound to be because of him.

“Is it me again?” he’d asked gently from over by the door.

She’d answered without turning round: “No, it isn’t you.”

“Who is it, then?”

“No one,” she’d said. “I just don’t know why I’m alive.”

As she spoke she’d turned round, fixing him with a wild stare. This was worse than he’d imagined, he was face to face with
problems that went completely beyond his understanding. Hege went on: “I get nothing out of it! Go back to your own room now, Mattis.”

As usual it was as if he were cut off by an impenetrable barrier. Hege was miserable. Something suddenly occurred to him: it was she who fed him; every single day he ate food that she bought with the money she got from her knitting.

He shook her by the shoulder: “Hege, you’ve got your knitting, you know!” he said.

She flinched.

“Knitting? Oh! leave me alone, you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

And so he’d had to bring up this other matter. He’d hoped to avoid it at first, he felt so ashamed about it.

“You feed me, Hege, don’t forget. You always have,” he’d said.

She didn’t say a word.

“It’s you who keep me alive, you know,” he’d said. “Isn’t that something? Surely that’s important.”

He hadn’t exactly meant it like that, he just uttered the first words that came into his head.

She tried to nod her agreement, and her forehead banged against the wall with a little thud.

“I think it’s important, anyway,” he’d said helplessly. “It is for me.”

“Of course. For me too, Mattis.”

But she wasn’t satisfied. She lay there turned toward the wall, refusing to show her face.

“Don’t worry about this anymore, Mattis. It’s my own business. It’ll pass, I’m sure.”

“Won’t you turn round?” he’d asked.

“No,” she’d replied crossly. She wasn’t going to let him see her face this time.

He stood there, his arms sagging. What could he tell her? She didn’t know why she was alive. And she who was so clever. He’d shuffled back into his own room, seeing he couldn’t cheer her up. It’s these last few months she’s got like this. What’s going on?

She was back to normal again after breakfast next morning, but had asked if he couldn’t take the boat out and do some fishing. He’d agreed without protest and got ready.

What’s she doing back home now?

No one must see her?

He sat in the boat, deep in thought.

GLUG. IT CAME from the bottom of the boat, quite loud this time. Mattis woke up with a start. He was halfway up to his knees in water! He must have damaged the rotten boat in another place today with all his trampling about – seeing the water was suddenly running in much more quickly than before.

He’d been thinking too long, that was the trouble. Hadn’t noticed the water rising over his feet. The water was so warm in the summer that you didn’t notice it when you were busy thinking about other things.

But this water was just as deadly dangerous as any other if you couldn’t swim. He was beginning to sink, there were no two ways about it.

“No! I don’t want to!” he shouted, his eyes wide open and staring. He started bailing with all his might, stood knee-deep in water, pushing it over the side with a broken scoop.

I’m not even forty, he thought, it’s far too soon.

But his bailing wasn’t doing any good, he realized, breaking out into a cold sweat. The water seemed to be rising rather thank sinking. He called out in a faltering voice: “Help! I’m sinking!”

“Someone come!”

“Come on, quickly someone!”

To no avail, far out on a wide, empty lake – and his shouts didn’t carry very far either. No sound reached the farms far away in the haze. Despite his bailing, the boat was getting fuller.

Things were moving quickly: a pair of eyes appeared down in the water, staring straight up at him.

“No!” he shouted.

His own eyes were staring transfixed, and the eyes in the water stared back. Nothing but a pair of eyes.

But he didn’t want to.

“No, I don’t want to!” he shouted, his face turning pale.

In his panic he finally caught sight of the bare, rocky island. It wasn’t far away. If only he could reach it he’d be safe.

His mind was really working quickly and smoothly. He threw down the scoop, flung himself on to the seat and started struggling with the oars.

Although the boat was lying low in the water, it began to move. Mattis pulled at the oars with every ounce of strength he could muster, and more besides. He didn’t stop to consider whether he had the strength or not, he had to get away from those eyes on the surface of the water.

“Hege!” he shouted wildly.

There was no chance at all of her hearing him, but still he had to shout her name. It had always been Hege he’d turned to for help.

Meanwhile the boat moved slowly toward the island. The water was rising, it was coming in through cracks higher up now. The fishing rod was bobbing up and down more forlornly than ever.

Then he stopped shouting. I’m going to make it, he thought, I’ll soon be there. He pulled at the oars, full of blissful certainty. And get there he did – before he knew it, the rocky island was right behind him.

The board grated against the bottom and came to rest, with the bow up on land. Mattis climbed ashore, so out of breath that he had to fling himself straight to the ground. He brought up his hand and began to wipe the sweat from his forehead.

That was close.

But he was safe.

He was filled with a deep sense of gratitude.

The island was nothing more than a large rock, with a few small patches of grass in the hollows. That’d be somewhere to sit, anyway. Mattis remembered to try and rescue the boat. Tried to bail it out first of all, but had to give up. He couldn’t drag the waterlogged hulk far enough up on land to do any good. The boat got even fuller it was so rotten, and seemed to dig itself in. The water was shallow so it didn’t sink, but it remained stuck fast. Mattis sat on the shore with the end of the rope in his hand.

There was nothing to do now but wait. He was stuck here until another boat turned up. Mattis gripped the rope firmly. There was nothing to tie the boat to. Actually, it was safe enough in the calm weather, but Mattis dared not to let go, a wind might spring up and set the wreck adrift – and that mustn’t be allowed to happen, the boat was going to be usable again, Mattis promised himself happily.

It was blissful to relax and gradually begin thinking again. Not that he was in any hurry about that just yet. The sun beat down upon him – no bad thing when your clothes were soaking wet; he got so hot he hadn’t the energy to take them off. As yet he hadn’t given a thought to getting back home; he’d saved his life, the rest would follow of its own accord.

“And a pretty mess things would have been in if I hadn’t!” he said in a loud clear voice. Out here you could talk to yourself to your heart’s content.

He felt weak and tired, basking blissfully in the sun, after all the strain and excitement. Getting back on land again wouldn’t be much of a problem. Sooner or later someone was bound to come out on the lake and see him. He wasn’t hungry either, just sleepy. He could take a nap until someone turned up.

But he was afraid he might let go of the rope if he fell asleep. It was the one link between him and everything he held dear. So when he felt sleep approaching with overpowering force, he tied the boat
to the only thing there was: himself. He wound the rope round one of his ankles and made a firm knot. Admittedly the boat was resting securely on the rocks at the moment, but no one could tell how long it would stay there.

“If I look after you, then you’ll look after me,” he said to the boat. Soon afterward everything went blank.

MATTIS DIDN’T HAVE any dreams this time. And when he woke up he had no idea how long he’d been asleep, he didn’t even think about it, for he was awakened by rousing cries of heave-ho!

Girls’ voices: “Heave-ho!”

At the same time the rope was tightening round his ankle. And he was being pulled toward the edge of the water with violent jerks.

What on earth?

“No!” he shouted, frightened and confused, sitting up and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. And sleep vanished completely.

“Come on! Again!” came a call.

“Right! Heave-ho!”

Another jerk nearer the edge of the water. He started struggling.

“Stop it!”

Then he realized it was only a joke.

Happy laughter rolled around him. It reminded him of lovely yellow peas. A girl’s voice said: “You better get up buddy, or you’ll end up in the water.”

Another girl said: “Wouldn’t it be a good idea to bail out your boat? It’s stuck to the bottom.”

Mattis shook his head to free himself of the suspicion that he was seeing this. Then he banged his left hand hard against the rock – it was so painful that he let out a groan. His heart was pounding with
excitement. He wasn’t dreaming, yet here he was, in the company of friendly, smiling girls.

“Should we untie you from the boat?” they asked, full of laughter. “You look so silly.”

“I’m sure I do,” he answered without thinking, still trying to clear his head.

“And there’s nothing new or unusual about that either,” he said waking up even more, his eyes opening even wider.

They didn’t listen to what he was talking about. One of them bent over him and undid the rope round his foot. Mattis looked at her shyly, felt her hands touch his naked foot – the whole thing was unbelievable, almost too good to be true. At last he managed to take in the whole scene. The boat the girls had arrived in lay splendid and newly varnished, pulled up next to his own sunken wreck – and here stood two happy young girls, obviously on holiday by the look of their suntanned bodies. There were a couple of faded anoraks or whatever they were lying in the boat, the girls were wearing nothing but their bathing suits, ready to plunge head first into the water.

Mattis looked at them quickly. He mustn’t do anything stupid now. If he spoiled this, it would take him a long, long time to get over it.

“It’s almost as if my dreams and wishes were coming true,” he said to begin with, looking across at the distant shores. He mustn’t stare at them.

“I have dreamt quite a few things as a matter of act,” he finished off unexpectedly.

The girls looked at him, surprised.

“Really?”

“Yes, but don’t ask me any more about it,” he said. “I haven’t told anybody.”

“No, alright,” said one of the girls, “we have dreams ourselves, so we know what they are like.”

And they gave him a friendly glance.

They’re clever, too, he thought.

“But I’ve seen plenty like you!” he said, once again unexpectedly. Had to be though. “There are crowds of them on the road here in the summer!” he said, “in the store and everywhere. You mustn’t think—”