The Bridges

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The Bridges Page 14

by Tarjei Vesaas


  All the night long she had wanted to go out into the darkness to look for an uplifting wind.

  She herself contributed to it, with every step she took. She tapped along the road, meeting the eyes of others on foot, those who had the time to exchange glances. Cars swished past: one or two people even waved to her.

  Those eyes—they were familiar from many previous occasions, but today she sought them instead of looking away. Many kinds: those that for some reason slid away at once, those that were frank and told her she was a fine girl, those that turned bad-tempered and cringed for some inner reason, and hungry eyes that she passed as quickly as possible.

  Many people knew her and nodded to her.

  ‘Good afternoon, Aud.’

  ‘Out for a walk, Aud?’

  ‘Nice to see you, Aud.’

  The wind.

  Aud came out on to the bridge. Her own precious, protective little wind was not there. The wind from the distance was out on the bridge, today as always. She could not ask it to heal her secret hurt; it existed for all living things, whether they were hurt or happy or lost.

  It was free and open there in the candid cross-wind. Below, in the same channel, the deep current flowed imperceptibly.

  Aud remained leaning over the railing. I don’t want to do this, she thought, but could not prevent herself. Her eyes bored down into the water. The surface shone black; the slime could not reach that far.

  ‘Hi, Aud!’

  She started. It was a school friend laughing at her. A girl. ‘What are you looking at?’

  ‘Nothing.’

  ‘How oddly you’re dressed, Aud.’

  ‘No, I’m not.’

  ‘No, I suppose not.’

  ‘Which way are you going?’

  ‘That way.’

  ‘I’m going this. See you.’

  And she was released and free again, standing in the current of air. She walked across the bridge and on between the many houses there, tapping past them.

  The road came out among fields and passed through a copse. She found it easier to face the truth now. She sat in the copse for quite a while, hidden from the road by the bushes.

  It’s today.

  Strange to think about home in a completely new way. Shall I be able to? It’s hurtful as well as strange.

  Now I must go home. It will be evening soon.

  There was the bridge again.

  And there something happened that she had not counted on during her walk in the wind. Just before she reached the bridge she suddenly saw Valborg come across and walk straight towards her.

  No, not that, was her first thought.

  But she had to. They had already seen each other, so she could not turn back or run away from the road.

  Obviously Valborg had just left Torvil. Already? Was she on her way back already?

  They walked towards each other.

  Aud held her head high, as she had done earlier that day, perhaps higher still, and looked at Valborg with exceptional calm, ready with a nod, expecting Valborg to look down at the road.

  But what happened then? The unexpected: Valborg looked back at her just as frankly.

  It came as a shock.

  They slowed down a little and looked each other in the eye firmly and unafraid. It was a curious moment. Dizzily brief, but curious. They did not say a word: each gave a slight nod, each was walking as though uplifted by something—and looked the other straight in the eye.

  And with that each went across to her own side.

  What had happened? Something had happened.

  Aud walked faster. She did not notice that people were looking at her, delighting in their casual encounter.

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  © Gyldendal Norsk Forlag A/S 1966

  English translation©Peter Owen and

  Elizabeth Rokkan 1969

  This ebook edition 2014

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