Aliss at the Fire

he lies here so much, either she lies here on the bench or she stands there in front of the window, the same as she did when he was still here too, and so why does she always have to see him walking in the door to the room? and why does she always have to see herself step away from the window and into the room and stop right there in the middle of the floor? why does she always have to see herself stand there and say something to him? and why does she always have to hear what he says? what she says? why is it like that? why is he still here? because he’s gone, he’s been gone for years, it’s been years since he disappeared, but it’s still as if he’s still here, she sees the hall door open, she sees him stand there in the doorway, she sees him walk into the room, hears him say what he’s said so many times before, that’s how it is and that’s how it will be even though he is gone forever, he is still always here, he is saying what he always said, he is walking the way he always walked, he is wearing the clothes he always wore, she thinks, and her, what about her? yes she just lies here on the bench or just stands there in front of the window and looks out the window the way she always stood and looked out, she thinks, yes, she stands there now the way she always did, or she lies here on the bench, she thinks and she sees herself walk in the door from the kitchen and she sees herself go over to the window and stand there in front of the window and she thinks, lying here on the bench, that she can’t bear it, she doesn’t understand it, she thinks, and why is it always like that? why is it as though he was still alive and was about to walk down the little road, the way he did so many times before he disappeared and was gone forever, even though it’s been years and years since she’s seen him walking down the little road, it’s as though he was walking down the little road right now, she thinks and she sees herself stand there in front of the window and look out into the darkness, and there, there, she sees, she thinks standing there in front of the window, him walking down the little road and sees the old yellow-white cap he has on, and she’s sure he’s going to go row out onto the fjord anyway, she thinks and she turns around and looks at the bench and then she sees herself lying there on the bench, and it can’t be! it can’t! she is standing here in front of the window and then she sees herself lying there on the bench, and she looks so old lying there, so worn out, and her hair has all turned gray, but it’s still long, and just think, to stand here in front of the window and look out and then to look over at the bench and then see herself lying there old and gray, she thinks, and she looks over to the stove and there, there on the chair next to the stove, she sees herself sitting there too! she thinks, not only does she see herself lying there old and gray on the bench but she also sees herself sitting there on the chair next to the stove, and she sits there knitting the black sweater he almost always wore, that he is wearing even now, she thinks and she sees that her hair is black and long and thick, where she’s sitting, and there’s a slight curl to her hair and she sits there and looks at the flames and her fingers keep knitting and knitting the black sweater he almost always wore and then she looks back at the bench and she sees herself lying there, and her hair has turned gray, but it’s still long, lying there on the bench her hair has turned long and gray and she looks out the window and she sees him walk down the little road in the yellow-white cap he has just started wearing and she thinks that cap is horrible and he thinks he doesn’t want to turn around now, if he turns around now he’ll probably just see her standing there in the window, looking out the window, in the light from inside the room, she’s standing, clearly visible, and looking out, so he doesn’t want to turn around, he doesn’t want to look in her direction, he just wants to go take a little walk out on the big road, it’s not a good day to row out onto the fjord today, the wind is too strong, and there’s not even any decent light out even though it’s as light as it will get today, and soon the darkness will come down over everything again, he thinks, so he’d better stay on land today, he thinks, in any case that’s what he had to tell her, he thinks, but anyway it’s probably all right just to go out for a little walk, he thinks and he starts to walk down the big road and it’s terrible how dark it is now, late in the fall, they’ve already gotten to late November, it’s a Tuesday in late November, in the year 1979, and even though it’s only afternoon it has gotten as dark as if it was evening, that’s how it is at this time of year, late in the fall, he thinks, and after not much longer it will be just dark, dark all day, with no light left to speak of at all, he thinks, and it’s good to go for a walk, he likes that, he thinks, it sometimes does take some effort to get out of the house, true, but as soon as you’re out it’s better, and he likes it, he likes to walk, he only needs to get going, to really get going, to find his own pace again, and then it’s good, he thinks, it’s as though the heaviness that otherwise fills his life gets a little lighter, it gets taken away from him, turned into movement, it leaves behind the heavy thick motionless blackness that life can be the rest of the time, he thinks, but when he’s walking, he thinks, he can feel like a nice piece of old woodwork, yes well, how stupid! how stupid! he thinks, but he can feel like those beautiful boards in a nice old boat! no just think, thinking something so ridiculous, thinking something like that, to think that he could think he was like those nice boards in an old boat, he thinks, how can he even think something like that? he thinks, it’s not right to think like that, that he’s a board in a boat? no, how did he think that? he thinks and he looks up at the sky, and he sees that everything has gotten almost pitch black, and that now, it is only just afternoon, now everything has gotten so dark, he thinks, and it’s a bit cold too, but he does have on his thick warm black sweater, he thinks, and he walks a little faster and he feels the darkness coming faster and faster too, the faster he walks the faster it gets dark, that’s how it seems to him, he thinks, and is he getting a little cold? no, not that, he thinks, he has warm clothes on, after all he has on the black sweater she knit for him, the first winter she lived with him she knit him the sweater that he almost always wears when it’s cold, it really keeps you warm, but why should he wear that sweater all the time? there’s probably no reason, that’s probably just the way it is, he thinks and he looks at the fjord and it’s totally quiet, and the wind seems to be blowing a little less hard than it was a while ago, he thinks, so maybe he should still go out onto the fjord? and why does he always want to row out onto the fjord, all year round? he doesn’t actually want to, he just does it, he thinks, he rows out onto the fjord, it doesn’t matter what the weather is, good or bad, and why? to fish? yes, well, he does a little fishing, but it’s been a long time since he was all that interested in fishing, so that can’t be why, he thinks, no today he had better just take a walk, that’s something he almost never does, he can’t remember the last time he just took a walk down the big road, he thinks, and so why should he today? no, why think like that? why does everything need to have a reason? he thinks, now he should just take a little walk down the big road and then he should turn around and go home, to the old house, their home, to the house where he has lived his whole life, first with Father and Mother and his brothers and sisters and then with her, with the woman he married, and it’s a nice old house, he thinks, and how old is it, no, nobody knows, but it’s old, it is old, and it has stood where it’s standing now for probably several hundred years, but why is the darkness coming so fast? suddenly it’s almost totally dark? he thinks and he looks at the fjord and the waves are beating hard again on the shore and he can still see the waves, but mostly it’s that he can hear them, he thinks, and now he needs to turn back, go home, and he doesn’t really feel in the mood to go back home, and why doesn’t he want to? is it her, is it that she is there and waiting for him, that she is standing there in the light of the window, is that what makes him not want to go back home? no it’s not that either, but he is a little cold, and it’s gotten almost dark now, just like that it’s gotten dark, almost totally dark, so he should probably go home, he thinks, and he stays standing there and he looks at the shore, at the waves, and he looks out along the land, along the fjord, and he sees that the fjord and the mountain and the darkness are about to blend together, become one with each other, and now he has to go home, he thinks and he starts to go home, that was a short walk, he thinks, but he did get out for a little while anyway, he thinks, and now she must be waiting for him, she’s always waiting for him, she’s standing in the window, she’s always standing there in the window, looking, waiting, he thinks and he walks farther and when he’s walked a little farther, around the curve, he’ll be able to look back home at the old house and see that there’s a light in the window and see her standing in the window, he’s sure of it, she is standing there in the light, in the window, framed by the darkness, and she is looking at him, even if she can’t see him she’s looking at him, and she sees him, and it’s always like that, he thinks, and he walks out around the curve and he looks back home at the old house and there she stands, there in the light of the window she is standing and looking out into the darkness, and he knows that she sees him, she always sees him, he thinks and he wants to not look at the window, not look at her standing there, he thinks and he looks at the shore, and there, down there on the shore, down below the boathouse, a bonfire is burning there! no, that was strange, that doesn’t make sense, he thinks, and then it’s not strange, it’s just how it should be, he thinks, because of course there should be a fire burning down on the shore in front of the boathouse, he thinks, there is nothing the least bit strange about it, he thinks, but then the fire is a lot closer to him than it was, it’s practically right below him now, and not far away anymore, not down below the boathouse on the shore, no now it’s practically right here below him he thinks and he keeps walking, and he looks down, and now what’s that? no that doesn’t make sense, he thinks and he looks up and he sees that the fire is back on the shore below the boathouse again, back down on the bay, and then the fire gets smaller, turns into just a flame, flickering weakly in the wind and in the darkness and then he can see it in one place or another in the heavy darkness, and the darkness is as heavy as he is himself, he thinks, and the darkness is dense and thick, now it is one single darkness, a play of blackness, and then he can see a flicker of flame out there and then not anymore, because then it’s black, but then the flame is there again, and several flames, and then the flame gets bigger, it becomes a small fire again, out there, down in the bay, down below the boathouse a fire is burning now, he thinks, and he stops and he stands and looks at the fire. And now the fire is big. Down on the shore a fire is burning. And then the fire is near him again. And it must be the darkness, and the fact that he’s so cold, that makes him unable to tell exactly where the fire is burning, he thinks, but he sees it, he does see it, there in the darkness, those yellow and red flames. And it looks warm, it looks good, because it’s cold, yes, he thinks, it has gotten so cold that he has to keep walking, he can’t stay standing in one place, it’s too cold for that, he thinks and he starts to walk and he’s freezing and it is so cold that he tries to walk as fast as he can and he can barely remember the last time it was so cold in the fall, he thinks, it must have been back when he was young, because back then, or that’s how he remembers it at least, it was almost always cold and there was ice on the fjord and so much snow on the hills, on the streets, ice and snow and cold, but now, in recent years, fall has always been pretty mild, and then this year the cold set in again, he thinks, and he doesn’t have a cap to wear anymore, those old red knit caps with tassels from when he was a boy, you can’t find them anywhere anymore of course, and where did they go, and where do they come from anyway, caps like that? he thinks, they just disappear, the years go by and both the years and these red caps come from somewhere or another, he thinks, but then again, he thinks, he has finally found a cap, big and roomy, yellow-white, it must have been left behind by his Grandma, the one who was married to Olaf, his grandfather, Grandpa Olaf, who died when he himself was so little that he has no memory of him, Grandpa Olaf, but he definitely does remember, he thinks, that Grandma wore a cap like this, that has stuck with him, the way one thing or another can sometimes stick with you, yes he definitely remembers Grandma walking up to him in a cap like this and he also remembers the blue coat she wore and that she had a walking stick in her hand, he thinks, because it’s slippery on the big road where Grandma comes walking up the hill and she has a walking stick in her hand so she can steady herself and keep on her feet and not fall down and break her bones, as she said, he thinks, and in her other hand is her shopping bag, a red bag, and on her head is the yellow-white wool cap that he himself always wears now, on these cold days. And is he going, he thinks, over to Grandma? Because he sees Grandma come walking up to him all right and he goes over to her