‘No, I’m not a Christian,’ I said. ‘I’m an atheist.’
‘What’s that?’ Reidar said.
‘Your hand? Where is it?’
‘Oh!’
‘An atheist is someone who doesn’t believe in God,’ I said. ‘But now you have to tell me your names. Let’s start at the end there.’
One after one they called out their names.
Vibeke
Kenneth
Susanne
Stig
Reidar
Lovisa
Melanie
Steve
Endre
Stein-Inge
Helene
Jo
I connected with some of them at once and would remember them easily from now on — the girl who was so unbelievably pretty and doll-like in everything from her facial features to her body and her dress, the boy with the round face, the little squirt who seemed angry, the boy with the big head and the warm eyes, the loudmouth, the blonde-haired girl with pigtails who gave the impression of being so rational and sensible — others were more nebulous and revealed too little for me to get a handle on them.
‘So you’re the third and fourth years!’ I said. ‘What’s the name of the place where you live?’
‘Håfjord, isn’t it!’ Reidar said.
I said nothing, just looked at them. Then two or three of them realised what I was getting at and put up their hands. I nominated the little doll-like creature.
‘Lovisa?’ I said.
‘Håfjord,’ she said.
‘What’s the name of the county Håfjord is in?’
‘Troms.’
‘And the country?’
Now everyone had a hand in the air. I nominated the fatty.
‘Norway,’ he said.
‘And the continent?’
‘Europe,’ he said.
‘Good!’ I said and he smiled.
‘But what’s the name of the planet we’re on? Does anyone know? Yes, Reidar?’
‘The world?’
‘Yes, it is. But there’s another name?’
I turned and wrote the whole address on the board: HÅFJORD, TROMS, NORWAY, EUROPE, EARTH. Turned back to them.
‘And where is the earth?’
‘In the cosmos,’ said Stein-Inge.
‘Yes,’ I said. ‘It’s in the solar system, in a galaxy called. .?’
On the board I wrote, THE MILKY WAY.
‘Have you heard of that?’
‘Yes!’ several of them shouted.
‘For us this galaxy is enormous. But in comparison with the rest of the cosmos it’s teeny weeny.’
I observed them.
‘What do you think is outside the cosmos then?’
They stared at me with mouths agape.
‘Have you never thought about that? Endre?’
Endre shook his head.
‘Is there anything outside then?’
‘Well, no one knows,’ I said. ‘But there can’t just be nothing, can there? There has to be something, don’t you think?’
‘What does it say in the textbooks?’ Reidar asked.
‘It doesn’t say anything,’ I answered. ‘As I said, no one knows.’
‘No one?’
‘No.’
‘Why should we learn that then?’ he said.
I smiled.
‘You have to learn about where we live. And that is, of course, the universe. Well, if we take a broader view of it, the cosmos. What you see above us every night. Or what you don’t see because you’re such tiny tots you’d have gone to bed.’
‘He-ey, we’re not tiny tots!’
‘Just joking,’ I said. ‘But the stars you can see when it’s dark. And the moon and the planets. You have to learn about them.’
I turned and wrote THE UNIVERSE on the board.
‘OK,’ I said. ‘Can anyone in the class name any of the planets in our solar system?’
‘The earth!’ Reidar said.
Scattered laughter.
‘Any more?’
‘Pluto!’
‘Mars!’
‘Good!’ I said. When no more suggestions were forthcoming I drew the whole solar system on the board.
SUN
MERCURY
VENUS
EARTH
MARS
JUPITER
SATURN
URANUS
NEPTUNE
PLUTO
‘Here on the board it looks as if they’re right next to each other. But there’s an incredible distance between the planets. It would take many, many years to travel to Jupiter, for example. I’d like to give you an idea of the distances. So put on your coats and we’ll go out onto the football pitch.’
‘Are we going out? During the lesson?’
‘Yes, get weaving. Put your coats on and we’ll be going.’
They jumped up from their seats and converged on the line of coat hooks. I stood waiting by the door with the bag hanging from my hand.
They flocked closely around me as we walked across the pitch. I felt a bit like a shepherd, so different from these small frisky creatures.
‘Right, we’ll stop here!’ I said and took a ball from the bag. Placed it on the ground. ‘This is the sun, OK?’
They looked at me somewhat sceptically.
‘Come on. Now let’s walk a bit further!’
We walked for another twenty metres or so before I stopped and placed the plum on the ground.
‘This is Mercury, the planet that is closest to the sun. Can you see the sun over there?’
Everyone stared over at the ball, which cast a light shadow over the shale, and nodded.
Next I placed two apples, two oranges, the swede, the cauliflower and, last of all, right up by the door of the community centre, the grape, which was supposed to represent Pluto.
‘Do you all understand now how far it is between the planets?’ I said. ‘The tiny sun so far away, and Mercury, which is like a plum, we can’t even see it from here, can we. And all this,’ I said, looking at them as they stared blankly across the football pitch, ‘is just a tiny, weeny, weeny, weeny bit of the cosmos! Tinsy winsy! Isn’t it funny that the earth we live on is millions of miles away from the other planets?’
Some of them were thinking so hard you could see the smoke. Others were gazing across the village and the fjord.
‘Let’s go back in now,’ I said. ‘Come on. Run, run, run!’
In the staffroom I took out a copy of my short story, stapled the pages together and passed it to Nils Erik, who was sitting on the sofa and reading Troms Folkeblad.
‘Here’s the short story I was telling you about,’ I said.
‘Interesting!’ he said.
‘When do you think you’ll have read it? By tonight?’
‘Urgent, is it?’ He looked at me and smiled. ‘I was planning to go to Finnsnes this afternoon actually. Would you like to come, by the way?’
‘Love to. Good idea.’
‘Then I can read your short story by tomorrow, and we can have a little seminar afterwards?’
Seminar, which to me meant universities and academia, studies, girls and parties.
‘Great,’ I said and went to get a cup of coffee.
‘What actually were you doing outside with them?’ Nils Erik said to my back.
‘Nothing special,’ I said. ‘I was just trying to help them visualise the cosmos.’
When I entered the classroom for the next lesson three of the girls were standing in a huddle by the window and whispering excitedly. My entrance hadn’t made the slightest impression on them.
‘You can’t stand there nattering!’ I said. ‘The lesson has started! Who do you think you are? You’re pupils. You have to obey the rules and do what the teachers tell you!’
They spun round. On seeing I was smiling they just continued.
‘Hello there!’ I said. ‘Come and sit down!’
Then, with a dilatoriness I would later that day consider exquisite, because their movements became so strikingly sophisticated and their ungainliness suddenly transformed into feminine poise, they went to their seats.
‘I’ve read your presentations now,’ I said, handing out their books. ‘They were very good. But there are a couple of things we can sort out straight away since they apply to all of you.’