The Birds (19 page)

Jørgen put his arm around her short plump body. Then he took her across to where Mattis was standing. Mattis could only gape. Hege was blushing.

“We’re good friends, Hege and me,” said Jørgen, “it’s just as well you should know.”

Hege didn’t resist, she was quite content to stand there with Jørgen’s arm around her – happy on the one hand and frightened on the other.

Mattis asked with great difficulty: “Are you really sweethearts?”

Hege looked up at last. She had given Mattis so many meals over the years that she felt she could.

“Yes, we are,” she said to him. And whether or not she’d intended it, her face lit up in a broad smile, broader than Mattis could ever remember.

Then she smiled in a different way, and said to him: “And you were the person who ferried him across to me, remember.”

Mattis hardly heard what she was saying. He was gripped by a sudden fear. Hege was lost to him.

“When did you become sweethearts, then?” he asked weakly, yet insistently.

“While you were ferrying we became sweethearts.”

Mattis saw how happy Hege was, standing there with Jørgen’s arm around her. Her face was hardly recognizable, no trace of tiredness or anger, no worry marked it. He felt quite overcome by it all, at first almost inclined to be pleased, but then the full realization struck him: Hege was lost.

No, no.

Surely you can see that. She’s lost.

“Why didn’t you tell me this before, Hege?” he burst out at last.

“We wanted to be sure first,” said Hege. “But you’ve found out for yourself now as well. You’ve been clever.”

He started at this word of flattery she’d used to pacify him. It made him writhe. He asked the question on which everything seemed to hang.

“Are you going to go away?”

“Why should you think that?”

“Well, seeing you didn’t dare tell me about it!”

“No,” Hege said firmly, “we’re not going away. There’s room for Jørgen here too. Everything will be just as it was before.”

Mattis hardly dared believe it, they’d hidden so much from him. Fervently he said: “I wish I’d never been installed as ferryman.”

“Now, now,” said Hege. “You’ve got a good job, rowing on that lake all day.”

“But Jørgen’s the only one I’ve brought across! I wish I’d never taken it up.”

At last the reticent Jørgen spoke.

“There may be others,” he said.

Mattis just shook his head. Jørgen went on: “You never know what may turn up—on the lake, you know.”

Mattis felt he had the right to be hard and merciless now: “I wish I’d never—”

He didn’t get any further, Hege intervened before he had a chance to damn and destroy anything. She walked straight up to her brother and did something she’d never done before as long as he could remember: she embraced him, held him tightly in her arms. There was an odd expression on her face. And then she said: “Bless you, Mattis, for becoming the ferryman.”

She released him again quickly and rather shamefacedly walked away, over to Jørgen.

Mattis had to ask himself: then why has she been getting so
cross with me since she became Jørgen’s sweetheart? Should he ask her? No.

“Well then, there must be different kinds of sweethearts,” he said instead, a little off the point.

They looked at him, were on their guard. Had he been too clever for them this time? he wondered. Hege asked: “What do you mean, different kinds?”

“Just that this isn’t the first time I’ve seen sweethearts, you know,” said Mattis. “Last spring I was thinning out turnips with a couple, and they spent the whole time pinching each other’s legs.”

Hege and Jørgen felt happy again. Off their guard.

“They were younger,” said Hege, “that’s when they pinch each other.”

Jørgen remained silent.

“They were kind, too,” said Mattis, “the whole time.”

“Yes, I’m sure they were,” said Hege.

“But why have you been so cross?”

There it came after all, tumbling out, because of what Hege had said. He couldn’t take it back. Actually he was quite glad he’d said it.

Hege blinked, a little startled. Then she tried to cover up, without much success.

“Cross? I haven’t been cross.”

This was no answer – Mattis had stumped her, he could see that. While he was in this strong position he said: “I’m going down to my boat. I must think a lot more about this!”

“Yes,” said Hege.

He went at once.

Halfway down the slope he paused, stood thinking, went up a little way, then he turned abruptly and went back down again.

You, my woodcockest bird – the phrase suddenly struck him inside.

He didn’t push the boat out, sat down on the shore next to it, inhaling the pleasant tarry smell. But he looked at it with distaste and thought: Who was most to blame for Jørgen’s arrival, the boat or himself? Neither of them could have brought Jørgen across to the house alone.

HEGE NOW BEGAN visiting Jørgen quite openly in the evening when he was resting. This was the first change that took place after the important announcement. And Mattis could see that Hege was full of happiness. He realized that he ought to be full of happiness as well, but he couldn’t manage it, he was frightened.

He plucked up courage and asked: “What are you going to do? Are you going to stay here?”

“We won’t decide anything about that for a long time yet,” Hege answered. “We’re going to leave things as they are for the moment.”

“But when will you know!”

“We’ll see. Just stop worrying.”

Didn’t she realize how frightened he was? What was going to become of him the day she left and wasn’t around any longer? Hege’d been within arm’s length all his life, he’d never known anything different.

“And then there was the bird up on the path,” he began, but got no further.

“The one that got shot? What about it?”

“No, that one only got filled with lead.”

“Listen, Mattis, you shouldn’t think about these birds so much, leave the birds to look after themselves,” she said lightheartedly,
as if ready to burst into song. She didn’t though; the expression in Mattis’s eyes stopped her at once.

Mattis said gravely: “I don’t understand you.”

All song was gone, she said firmly: “Try and act like a grown-up man, Mattis. Use your common sense, the way grown-up men have to.”

“What is it, then?” he asked bitterly.

“Think of others a bit, too,” she said. “You have to when you’re grown-up.”

“What others?” he asked helplessly, filling her with fright.

She made no reply.

He set off to do a bit of ferrying. There’s got to be a call from the lake soon, surely, he thought. Something or other’s got to happen now.

Be a grown-up man, she said. She never used words like that in the old days.

He was plugging the holes in his boat. Every morning he had to inspect the tarred rags and the patchy repairs. His new boat was now more than ever a dream vanishing into the distance.

Be a grown-up man?

Mattis stared at the demand without understanding.

Hege was so drunk with joy she didn’t know what she was saying any longer, that must be why.

He still hadn’t pushed the boat out – and in the event he never did, for he heard a faint rumbling in the air.

Thunder.

A bank of cloud was rising over the hills. At the same time there was a rumble from somewhere.

Well, there’s only one thing to do now, he said. I never agreed to ferry anyone in a thunderstorm. Luckily I made that an exception.

He used an extra piece of rope to tie the boat up, in case the wind got really strong, put the oars under cover, and was off to his usual hiding place with no other thoughts in his mind. He didn’t feel bound by normal agreements during thunderstorms. Halfway up the slope he suddenly remembered Hege’s insistent demand: Be a man! He stopped and thought about it.

Up at the top he saw Jørgen going into the house. Had he had an accident in the forest? Didn’t look like it. Jørgen hadn’t gone to the forest yet, was at home with Hege when he should be at work.

Things are in a real mess, Mattis thought. Jørgen doesn’t fell trees and Hege doesn’t knit sweaters. I’ll soon be the only one here who does any work.

The rumbling was growing louder, and he walked faster. Suppose he went into the house and stayed with Hege and Jørgen while the storm was raging, wouldn’t that make him a man?

No, I don’t dare, he admitted. And he made straight for the usual safe place. Maybe the storm wouldn’t be as bad as last time, but
it would be enough to sap him of all his strength. He got inside, fastened the door and put his fingers in his ears.

The storm wasn’t any too light. Outside, the thunder crashed, and the uncanny hissing sound started. Mattis sat huddled up. Not for a moment did it occur to him to try to be a man, the situation was far too serious.

But this time his hiding place failed to give him proper protection. Neither the thunder nor the noise of his fingers in his ears could drown Jørgen’s shout. It came from just on the other side of the wall. It was a stern voice full of authority.

“Mattis! Out you come!”

Out? Is he mad? thought Mattis. He didn’t stir, just looked to make sure the hook was on the door.

Outside, the order was repeated.

“Come out, Mattis!”

It suddenly struck Mattis that this was just the way he’d called Jørgen down from the attic himself that day.

Jørgen shouted: “Do I have to come in and drag you out! Out with you now, Mattis!”

What was going on? Jørgen was almost unrecognizable. Drag you out, he said, making it impossible to stay. Outside, the thunder was crashing so violently that Mattis’s face turned pale and his legs felt limp, but he had to go out now all the same – or there’d be nothing left of him. And all because Jørgen stood there calling.

“I’m coming!” he shouted through the door.

He undid the hook and his eyes were almost blinded by a flash of lightning as he opened the door, it seemed to get right inside him – but he walked across the threshold and out onto the grass. There was a crash of thunder overhead. The rain had held off so far.

He hardly realized where he was – but there was Jørgen, standing right in front of him. His eyes were half-blinded, he saw Jørgen through a mist, and farther away he could just make out Hege standing in the doorway. She was gesticulating and waving to Jørgen, looked as though she was trying to make him stop – wanted Mattis to be spared this ordeal.

“Here I am!” Mattis announced simply, and stepped forward. All feeling had gone from his legs. He walked straight toward Jørgen who had stepped back a little. The lightning flashed again.

“What is it you want, Jørgen?”

Jørgen stood waiting, motionless and silent.

Mattis walked through lightning and thunder. He didn’t collapse like an empty bag, didn’t have his fingers in his ears, kept his eyes wide open, walked purposefully toward Jørgen – he’d show him!

He came up to him, and Jørgen received him, motionless as before.

“Good,” was all he said.

Jørgen said it with emphasis – Mattis could feel it. He said it with respect.

Mattis was trembling, but his legs carried him without giving way. He looked at Jørgen, not knowing which feeling was stronger: friendship or fear.

“Yes, but what is it?” said Mattis, in a frenzy of excitement. “You must tell me what you want from me.”

“Come in and sit with us,” said Jørgen, “that’s all. This is no place for you to stay.”

Mattis felt anger stirring inside him but he didn’t dare get angry in this kind of weather. He hesitated a bit, but finally followed him in. His heart was beating wildly. The worst part of the storm was over, the noise of the thunder was dying away.

Hege was still standing in the doorway, it was obvious she was uneasy about Mattis.

“I think you’d better let us come in,” Jørgen said to her.

Hege nodded, didn’t know what to say. She followed them in, so that they were all together inside. Mattis stared helplessly at these strong and clever people. Yet he couldn’t bring himself to sit with them, he couldn’t bring himself to do anything – the reaction was setting in after all the excitement. While the storm was subsiding he went over to his bench and lay down, dropped off into an easy slumber, his thoughts far away.

AFTER THIS EPISODE Mattis waited for something more from Jørgen. Expected him to call upon him to do other things as well. You never could tell what people like Jørgen might get up to.

Deep down inside Mattis was grateful to him for what had happened during the thunderstorm. For a brief moment he’d been a man. But apart from this he was as bewildered as before, and full of misgivings. He noticed how happy Hege and Jørgen were together. The way Hege’s face lit up with joy when Jørgen came home from the forest. Saw many small indications of the gap that now separated Hege from her old life, and from her brother.

What’s going to become of me?

He kept an eye on them:

Do they think I can manage on my own?

I don’t suppose they ever give it a thought.

He asked Hege straight out: “Why did Jørgen drag me out into the thunderstorm?”

“He wanted to see how much you could take,” Hege replied. “And it was more than we thought.”

Her words made him shudder. See if I could take it? He was pleased he’d passed the test. And this was probably only a foretaste of what Jørgen had in store for him.

Filled with worry and wild guesses, he rowed around on the lake. There were no passengers; now and then a motorboat went chugging past, and occasionally made straight for the hills in the west. No one wanted Mattis’s ferry.

The only good thing is that I’m learning from Jørgen what to do when I meet girls, he thought. What a lot of things I didn’t know. Surprising I managed as well as I did with Anna and Inger.

Those heavenly names always seemed so near out here on the water. He rowed slowly, and the boat went this way and that.

Before long Mattis was asking for decisions again: “Do you know anything more now?” he asked Hege, in a tone that was almost unfriendly. There was no doubt what he was referring to.