You’re going out onto the fjord, that’s what you’re thinking, Signe says
I’m not thinking anything, Asle says
Not thinking anything, Signe says
No, Asle says
I’m not thinking anything, he says
I’m just standing here, he says
You’re just standing there, Signe says
Yes, Asle says
What day is it today, Signe says
Tuesday, Asle says
It’s a Tuesday in late November in 1979, he says
The year’s going by fast, Signe says
Unbelievably fast, Asle says
It’s a Tuesday in late November, Signe says
Yes, Asle says
and he steps away from the window and he goes to the hall door
You’re going, Signe says
Yes, Asle says
Where, Signe says
Just out for a while, Asle says
Yes well no one’s stopping you, Signe says
Yes, Asle says
and she sees him go over to the stove, he takes a log and he bends down and he puts the log in the stove and then he stands up and looks at the flames and he stays standing like that for a while and looks at the flames before he goes over to the hall door and she sees his hand on the door handle, as though with a small hesitation, a lingering, and should she say something? or is it he who should say something? but neither of them has anything to say and then he pushes the handle down
There isn’t something you’re, says Signe
No no, says Asle
and he pulls the door toward him, goes out, and it is as if he wants to turn to her and say something to her, but he just shuts the door behind him, she thinks, and there is nothing to say, and he just opened the door and walked out, she thinks, but then again there are no problems between them, everything is good, they really are the closest couple you can imagine, the two of them, they never say anything to hurt each other, and he probably doesn’t even know, she thinks, what good he can do for her, he can be so unsure of himself, not knowing what he should say or do, but there’s not any resentment of her in him, she’s certainly never noticed any, she thinks, but then why would he want to be out on the fjord all the time? in that little boat he got himself, a little wooden boat, a rowboat, she thinks and she sees, lying there on the bench, herself standing there in the middle of the floor in the room and then she sees herself go over to the window and stand there and look out and now there is a little light outside, she thinks, standing there in front of the window, now it has gotten as light as it can probably get at this time of year, it’s brightened up so much that you can see the sky in its gray and black, and the pale gray mountain on the other side of the fjord, now you can see that too, she thinks, but down below on the big road, what’s that gleaming there? who’s that standing there? who’s that? and who are the people walking there? is it she herself standing down there? and does she look scared? desperate? as though she is dissolved and in the process of disappearing altogether? does she really look like that? she thinks, who is that? she thinks, but no, she is standing right here, in front of the window, she is standing here and looking out, so why did she get it into her head that she was standing down there on the big road, as though dissolved? why see something like that and think something like that? no it can’t be, she thinks, because she’s standing here, here in front of the window, and she’s looking out, but she can’t stay standing like this, here in front of the window, after all she stands here so much, she just stands like this almost all the time, stands and looks out the window, and sometimes she looks down at the big road, sometimes at the little road, that’s what they called it, she thinks, the little road, to go with the big road, it was supposed to sound kind of cute, or maybe it was just to have a name for the road, and so it stayed the little road, that’s what they called it, the road that went down to the big road from the old house, their home, where they live, the old house, the oldest parts of the house are several hundred years old, and then it was added onto, here and there, and she herself has lived here for more than twenty years now, no, such a long time? can it really have been so long? she thinks, and so it must be twenty-five years or so since she met him for the first time, since she saw him come walking up to her, with his long black hair, and there and then, it was really like that, there and then it was basically certain that he and she would be together, it was really like that, she thinks and she looks out at the big road winding there along the fjord, a thin line, and she can’t see him anywhere, she thinks, and then she looks at the path that runs from the big road down to the bay and the boathouse, and to the landing, and then she looks at the fjord lying there, always the same, always changing, and then she looks at the mountain on the other side of the fjord, so steep, plunging straight down somewhere between black and gray from the sky’s light movements that are somewhere between gray and white, down to the line of trees edging the fjord, and now the trees are black too, and it would be so nice if they were green again, shining green, she thinks and she looks at the mountain again, and, she thinks, it is as if the mountain down there was breathing out, no she really has to stop it now, thinking something like that, the mountain breathing out, that doesn’t make any sense, a mountain exhaling, she thinks, but still it is sort of like that, like the mountain was exhaling out there as it fell further and further down to the place where the trees start and then foothills and meadows, and houses, here and there a house scattered around, and the places where a couple of houses are standing right next to each other, and down on the fjord she can see the narrow stripes, that one is the big road winding back and forth, almost down to the landing, and then back up away from the fjord, farther on, before it winds around the fjord, worn out and exhausted, and disappears for good, that’s how it is, and now it is almost all black, that’s how it is now, in late fall, and that’s how it is all winter long, she thinks, but in spring, in summer, it’s different then, then everything can be together like blue and shining green and then the sky and fjord can face each other and both will be the bluest blue, and both can glow on the headland, yes, that’s how it was, and that’s how it will be again, she thinks, but she can’t stay standing in front of the window like this, she thinks, why does she do that all the time? and now she mustn’t think what she has thought so many times before, that she might just as well do that as do anything else, she thinks, instead she stays standing and she looks at a place in the middle of the fjord and then she loses herself in looking out at that place and she sees, lying there on the bench, herself standing there in front of the window and he too, she thinks, he too stood there so many times, just like she now sees herself standing there, he too stood there like that in front of the window, like she now sees herself standing, before he disappeared and stayed gone, gone forever, he often stood like that and looked and looked, and the darkness outside the window was black and he was almost impossible to tell apart from the darkness out there, or else the darkness out there was almost impossible to tell apart from him, that’s how she remembers him, that’s how it was, that’s how he stood, and then he said something about how he wanted to go out on the water for a little while, she thinks, but she never, or almost never, went with him, the fjord was not for her, she thinks, and maybe she should have gone with him more often? and if she had been with him on that evening, then maybe it never would have happened? then maybe he would be here now? but she can’t think like that, that won’t get her anywhere, she thinks, she never liked being out in a boat, never, but he liked it, he just rowed out onto the fjord as much as he could, all the time, every single day, often twice a day, she thinks, and that he would just stay gone, disappear, never come back, just be gone and that she would be left here, alone, since they had never had children, the two of them, him and her, it was just him and her, she thinks, he was here, and then he was gone, disappeared, he walked up to her, with his long black hair, she had never seen him before and then he just came walking up to her, and then, yes, then, well she did wait a little while, but then she ran to him, she thinks, and then she stayed with him, living in his house, she thinks, stayed together with him, for many years it was like that but then as suddenly as when he had once come walking up to her he went away from her and now it’s been many years since she’s seen him, no one sees him, he is just gone, he was there and he disappeared, went away, away forever, but what was it he said before he went out that day when he disappeared? what did he say before he left, did he say something? something about going out onto the fjord for a little while, maybe? that’s what he always used to say, something about how he wanted to row out onto the fjord in his boat? maybe he said something like that, that he wanted to do a little fishing, maybe, something like that, he probably said something totally ordinary, something he said all the time, the usual words and sentences, the ones that always come up, what people always say, he probably just said that, she thinks and she looks at the window and she sees herself standing there in front of the window and looking out and then she sees herself walk across the room and she sees herself go and pick up a log, bend down and put it in the stove and then she sees herself stand back up and look at the hall door and it opens and then he is standing there in the doorway, and he comes into the room, lets the door close behind him