Bengt! Now you have to have a dance with Gun.
Gun puts on the same record again, goes up to him, closer than she really should.
Otherwise I’ll be hurt, she says to Bengt.
So he takes her by the shoulder, reluctantly, almost as if touching her is revolting to him. He does want to punish her and what better way to do that than to dance with her and show her how much he despises holding her body. But the dance seems to last forever. It’s the first time he’s ever touched her for so long, and by the end his hands are completely wet. When they finally do stop, he notices he was holding her tight; maybe he even hurt her, because afterward she grabs her shoulder as if feeling for the pain. He no longer regrets the dance.
He notices something else when the dance is over: Berit is gone. When he goes to bed, he hears her quiet sobs behind the curtain. He doesn’t feel like asking her why she’s crying. He has no desire to speak with her, to touch her even. The wine has made him too tired. The father and Gun have also gone to bed. He waits to hear the father snoring through the half-open sliding door. But he never hears it, and while falling asleep, an unexpected noise jolts him wide-awake. It’s a doorknob that turned with a creak, the kitchen doorknob. He jumps noiselessly to the ground and puts on his pants and a shirt. Just as quietly, he opens the window and lands on the rocks outside. On tiptoe, though he wouldn’t have been heard anyway, he sneaks around the island. The boat is still in its place. No voices can be heard. They must be somewhere in the silence. It’s just before sunrise. Above the sea, the red-hot sky is about to burst. As he tiptoes across the little arch, it creaks but not too loudly. He quickly hides himself behind some bushes. For a short yet dangerous moment, he peers down at the little square patch of grass and flowers. Gun is sitting there. Her body is wrapped in her yellow robe—only her shoulders are bare. Her shoulders are white and naked, and when the father, who is sprawled out next to her, suddenly puts his hand on one of them, it doesn’t become whiter. But it does become more naked, excruciatingly naked.
When he goes back to the cottage, he leaves the door ajar and opens the sliding door a little more. He draws the curtains and plops down heavily beside the fiancée. He is aroused and full of hate, and when he kisses her awake, he does it out of hate. But she thinks it’s out of love and since he has never kissed her like that before, she becomes warmer than she has ever been before. She is so warm that she’s finally able to be happy. Afterward, he is warm and limp, and his hate is limp, too, but also very deep. He gets up and closes both of the doors. He also draws the curtains and closes the shutter. He hopes to sleep in for as long as possible the next morning. It’s the morning of their last day at sea, the day he will get revenge. From the darkness, the fiancée stretches her pale arms up to him.
You have made me so happy, she whispers.
Then he leans over and kisses her rather coldly on her lips. They are too open, and one of them has a sore. When the father and Gun do come back, he only hears it in the form of a dream, a short and insignificant dream.
On the day of his revenge, they all sleep in very late. Berit is particularly happy that day. When they swim, she laughs louder than the others and thrusts herself more boldly against the waves. Her body is slender and white, whereas Gun already has a nice tan. Berit is wearing a black bathing suit that is pretty old-fashioned. In the water she acts almost like his mother, which irritates Bengt. Apparently, the father is also irritated. When she voluntarily asks for some liquor at breakfast, they’re taken aback—as if they had heard an unusually crude swear word. And she isn’t upset when Bengt moves her glass away. She only said it because she wanted to be loved, not because she really wanted to drink. She isn’t upset. She just doesn’t understand. There is a lot she won’t be able to understand as the day goes on.
It’s very hot in the afternoon. They grow tired and weak and lie out on the beach, half-sleeping till evening. The men are lying on the outer sides. Gun is wearing sunglasses with red frames and opaque lenses. So it’s difficult to see whether her eyes are closed. Despite this, however, Bengt takes a chance and slowly props himself on his elbow and gazes at her, starting from the top and working his way down. Then he flings himself into the burning sand, his hatred burning so hot that he has to find some shade. So he leaves the sand and goes alone to the square patch, where he lies down in the cool grass. As soon as he lies down, he realizes that it’s a very bad spot if he wants to cool off. Because now he is even hotter. But instead of leaving, he throws himself on his stomach, rips up the grass, bites into it like an animal, digs his body into it, and attacks it. Berit, who suddenly catches him, doesn’t understand a thing. She merely runs away in fear.
Worn out, he stays in the hollow until somebody calls him. They eat dinner on the porch as usual. It is hot and airless, and the drinking water is almost gone. Down at the mainland, vacationers’ boats are flowing toward the city in a steady stream. They are very quiet: Berit, because she doesn’t really understand; the father, because he’s very hungry and because the hard liquor is gone; and Gun, because she is suddenly afraid of Bengt, who is looking at her as if she’s supposed to be afraid. Bengt isn’t saying anything either, even though he knows he should. And whenever he opens his mouth to say what he ought to say, his heart shrinks and he always says something else: “Can I have another beer?” or “Could you pass some more herring?”
However, he is able to look at her without difficulty. And when he realizes he can frighten her with just one glance, he feels proud. But that night as he lies next to the fiancée, he feels disappointed in himself. Disheartened, he is like a cold stone next to her, and despite this, she tries to fondle him. He is disappointed because he didn’t really get revenge. After they had finished eating, they packed up and then something always got in the way. They all went to bed after they packed, everyone except for Gun, who wasn’t fully ready. Through the sliding door, Bengt can hear that his father is sleeping. Gun isn’t asleep yet. She’s busy with their suitcases in the kitchen. Then he mysteriously senses that the right moment has arrived. Entirely clear-headed and with every word burning on the tip of his tongue, he climbs out of bed. At the same time he has an insatiable thirst. So when the fiancée anxiously asks him where he is going, he answers:
To the kitchen for a drink of water. I’m so damn thirsty.
But there must have been something that frightened her, something in his voice or in his face, because then she tries clinging to him with her hands. He impatiently jerks away. When he entered the main room, he closes the sliding door behind him, stands with a pounding heart and burning feet, and looks straight into the kitchen. Aware of what he is going to do, he is not afraid. A sense of freedom warms him, a certainty that what he is about to do is something that needs to be done, if he didn’t choke, and that everything will be much better afterward. Then he thinks he sees shadows on the floor, shadows of wet footprints. It frightens him a little.