“Why was I born to love – to love the one I cannot have? Why was love ignited in my heart at such a young age? The one who has loved cannot forget, the one who has forgotten has never loved, the one who has forgotten but still has loved, did not know what love was.”
“Are you thinking of your own experiences when you read this?” I said, because it felt that way.
“Yes, I have been burned. But one gets over it, believe me!”
So he thought that I was equally in love with him as he had been in the one who had burned him and tried to comfort me. When I realized that I opened the door and left. And he drove away, glad to have finally gotten rid of me.
Why didn’t he want to see me? Was it because I was too eager? But I don’t think he would have wanted it otherwise either. I think he thought he was better than me and that I wasn’t good enough for him. But when he realized that I was interested in him, he took for granted that I was willing and drove out to the woods and tried to lay me, so I cannot think that he was better than I am.
Yesterday evening, when I was in town and went out on the bridge, a cop car drove by. The cops inside stared, and when I noticed it, I felt weird. I don’t know why that draw comes. I would like to give in to it, but I don’t dare, because I’m not sure I could be the same as usual again afterwards.
It smelled of sludge from the river and exhaust gases from the cars on the street. Some guys in a Volvo PV blinked their lights, but they didn’t stop. Then a guy came and stood beside me at the bridge railing without saying anything. It was Putte. After a while he took my hand and started walking, and I went along with him, though I didn’t know if I wanted to. We walked on Västra Strandgatan and past Magdeburg, our school. He said he was going to sea soon and that we ought to get engaged before he left. I was so surprised that I almost didn’t know what to say.
“But we hardly know each other,” I said.
“I know you.”
I felt sorry for him, because he seemed so alone and sad, but you can’t get engaged to someone just out of compassion.
“It wouldn’t work,” I said.
“You don’t want to?”
“I can’t.”
Then he got cross and kept on walking without holding my hand. When we had passed Saluhallen and Upplandsmuseet and had reached Dombron, he stopped.
“Aren’t you going to leave now?” he said and looked towards Svartbäcksgatan.
“Yes, but I don’t want you to be angry.”
“You don’t give a shit about that! You don’t give a shit about me!”
“Yes, I do!”
“No, because the only love you know is sheet metal love!”
But just because I don’t want to be with him doesn’t have to mean that cars are the only thing I’m interested in. I can be interested in other guys, for example. And why must he care about what I do? Because he is in love with me and wants me to be with him only? But he isn’t in love with me and I don’t get why he said that we ought to get engaged. To test how I would react, or because he wants to have someone to talk about and write to while he is at sea?
I didn’t want him to be angry, but the street was full of cars and I didn’t want to stand there any longer and waste time.
“I must go now,” I said.
“Yes, shove off and ride with your damn cars, goddammit! Just do it! I don't give a shit!”
But I don’t believe that, because in that case he wouldn’t have gotten so angry.
Saturday, 6 June 1964
This evening E-L and I are going to the movies and then to Svartbäcksgatan. There is something special about walking there! (Cést très agréable.) I like it partly because of all the stores, cafes and cinemas, partly because of all the cars (or the contents of the cars, rather). I’m not very at home in makes of cars, but I recognize almost all the ones I have gone with (plus Ford Anglia, the berry picker). Yes, they are nice to have, the cars, if you want to go someplace! And you do want that. If you didn’t, you wouldn’t walk on Svartbäcksgatan. Then you would stand on Nybron instead and talk with the Mods or sit at home and watch TV on Saturday evenings. But we prefer to walk on Svartbäcksgatan (unless we are just sitting there, that is). We usually sit on a bench down by Skolgatan, because from there you can observe all the boys well when they stop for a red light, and they can seize the opportunity to take a peek at us while they are waiting for the light to turn green. Yes, and then a car stops and we walk up and talk with the boys inside... If they don’t seem too bad, we hop in and cruise around a little, talk and smoke, before they stop somewhere and propose that we change places. But before it has gone that far, you try to figure out if you can fancy a continuation or not. Because if you can’t, you must come up with a way to get out of the situation. But it’s difficult to say no. We never say directly that we don’t like them; instead we look for an excuse so that they won’t be hurt if we don’t want to go with them anymore. We usually say we are going to meet a mate somewhere.
Tuesday, 9 June 1964
On “Kvällstoppen” “My Boy Lollipop” came first, “Suspicion” second and “Don’t Throw Your Love Away” third. I like “Suspicion” and “Don’t Throw Your Love Away” but not “My Boy Lollipop”.
On Saturday E-L and I were at a summer house in Sunnersta with three boys. It was Tony and his friend, named Ricky (he was the one E-L was with), and then a third one, named Hasse, who I was with. First we drove to the Murco gas station on Salabacksgatan and tanked up, and they asked us if we had any money to help with gas. We didn’t have any (we said). How much can a liter of gas cost? 75 öre, possibly, and they could very well afford that, we thought.
Tony, who was the most handsome one, didn’t have a girl, and Ricky said to E-L that he (Tony, that is) had some type of venereal disease and that’s why he didn’t want to be with somebody. Or he wasn’t allowed to, because V.D. infects through sexual activity, and he possibly thought that there was no point in being with a girl if he couldn’t lay her.
Hasse offered Merry (the fruit soda with a full-grown taste) and that he had to say something funny about of course, how he now put it. It had to do with sex in any case, because it wasn’t just the taste of the soda that was fullgrown but something else as well. But I wasn’t interested in what was going on below his waist. And before we drove off to the summer house he said: “No, in this way there will be no children made. Let’s go to the cabin!” So it wasn’t very difficult to figure out what he had in mind. But the only thing I let him do was pull up my bra and kiss my breasts.
Ooh, it’s so difficult to be out and come home, because I prefer not to awake mamma, but she wakes up almost every time. It’s really funny to share a room with your mamma, I have to say! Why can’t she sleep in the living room with papa instead and leave me alone in the bedroom? But I’m really good at sneaking in. I unlock the door and pad in without making a sound and close the outer door (I hear how papa snores, so when it comes to him there is no problem), and take off my clothes in the hallway and go into the bathroom and brush my teeth carefully and wash off my face. But just as I push down on the door handle and creep in to mamma, I hear: “I’m not sleeping!” Instead of opening the door as soon as I come into the hall and telling me she is awake she does like that, and it irritates me just as much every time.
Now this school year has come to its end. I got lousy grades. They are the worst I have ever had. In chemistry I was even failed. But Holmberg didn’t fail me in mathematics after all. He could as well have done it, so that I would have gotten two grades below the pass standard. I have never been failed in any subject before.
Kicki didn’t do very well, either, but her grades weren’t reduced as much as mine.
Tonight we’re going to town, because tomorrow she is leaving for the countryside and is going to be gone until 19 July.
Thursday, 11 June 1964
“The flowering time now comes, with desire and striking colors, now sweet summer approaches, when grass and grain grow.” This is the s
ong we sang at the breaking-up commencement. And then we got our grades, which were not especially brilliant in my case. The grade in English I was disappointed about, because I had hoped for better. I have done pretty well on some of my written exercises, but it was obviously not good enough to get a high ending grade.
I’m so absent-minded in school. I don’t put a lot of effort into my school work. At the same time, I would like to do better. Previously I thought that I would continue to study after the girls’ school, but things have not gone well and now I don’t know anymore. I would like to be a psychologist or a nurse, but I will never be accepted in those programs with my grades. So I don’t know what I will do later. Get married and have kids, perhaps?
I’m in the country with mamma now. (Papa is coming out when his vacation begins.) We are going to be here until 19 July. E-L and I went out last night instead because we can’t do it on Saturday. We went with a guy E-L had met previously some time and his mate to an apartment, and E-L disappeared with Becke into the bedroom, while the other guy (whose name was Martin) and I sat in the kitchen and listened to “Jump In” on the radio. “Twist with The Adventurers” or whatever the hell it was called. And Becke started a row with E-L. She knew even before we went with them what he is like, so in a way I think she had to blame herself for meeting him. I would never meet such a hard guy again, I have to say! But E-L has a tendency to feel sorry for such types and can’t say no. Before, there was another one she couldn’t neglect, though he almost had tried to rape her.
Now I’m going to sit down in the arbor and read. In any case, it’s wonderful to be in the country! On 20 July, when we are back in town again, I will work for Stig in his firm to earn some money, so I had better enjoy this time off while it lasts.
We went with a guy named Becke and his buddy to an apartment in Tunabackar. When Becke and I got into the bedroom he dragged me down onto the bed and laid himself on top of me and tried to kiss me. His breath smelled of alcohol and I didn’t want him to kiss me, but when I turned away he got angry and began to tear and tug at my clothes.
“Stay with me tonight,” he said.
But I didn’t want to be with him if he was just going to mess with me. Why couldn’t he take it a little easy?
He wanted to lay me and held me fast and tried to take my pants off. When I resisted him, he pressed me down harder in the bed so that I couldn’t move. I didn’t think he would do anything with violence, but I didn’t dare give up fighting against him, because then he might not have been able to stop himself. It was such a hassle. I wasn’t able to get loose though I resisted him as much as I could.
“Don’t mess around now,” he said.
“But I don’t want to!”
“But you do want to do it with Putte, don’t you? With him you have no objections! But he’s in jail now.”
“He is?”
“Yeah, your guy is in prison!”
But he isn’t my guy, and I don’t want to do anything with him, either, like Becke seemed to believe. I don’t give a shit about him!
My wrists were sore where Becke squeezed them, and I became so exhausted resisting him.
“Why can’t you just let me go?” I said.
“Don’t you think you are somebody!” he said.
“I don’t.”
“You aren’t any fucking beauty.”
“Have I claimed that?”
“Nobody wants to have you!”
“Well, let me go then.”
“Fuck you!”
“The same to you!”
“Stay with me tonight.”
“But you are just messing with me.”
His face was red and the hair on his forehead and temples was wet with sweat. I was also sweaty. Finally, I could get myself loose enough that I could sling myself onto the floor. I thought about running out to Kicki and the other guy, but I wasn’t able to get up before Becke had cast himself after me and lay on top of me again. He held my wrists tightly and put down his head and pressed his cheek against mine.
“Stay with me!” he said.
Then I screamed, and Kicki and the other guy came in. They stood in the doorway and stared at us.
“I’m leaving now, Eva-Lena,” Kicki said, and I could hear from her voice that she thought that I had myself to blame because I had followed Becke.
“Let me loose!” I said and tried to get away from him.
“You only do what she says,” he grumbled. “You just let her decide!”
But finally he let me go. I was totally shaky when I got up and sticky all over my body with sweat.
We had to walk all the way from Tunabackar and down to town. In front of Stugan we met two guys in a U-marked Ford that we went with. One of them was really good at imitating voices. He could sound like Tage Erlander, Gunnar Hedlund and Olle Björklund.
I’ve got a letter from Kicki. It’s about Uffe and Göran, and about how it was when we first started going out. She writes:
Saturday, 13 June 1964. Howdy, partner! They are going to increase the postage from 35 to 45 öre, so I thought I would write while I can still afford to mail the letter. But that’s not the only reason I have for writing, if you think so. I thought I would also write to see how you are doing these days. Sure, it’s only two days since we met, but who knows what can happen in two days? If I know you at all, anything could happen. This evening, for example, you will probably go to town looking for some pleasant boys again. (Correct me if I’m wrong!) But I really hope that you will catch someone better than the boy you got on Wednesday!
Just now I’m sitting outside on the lawn, listening on my transistor radio to “Sommartoppen” with Pekka Langer. Radio and TV are the only two entertainments offered out here in the country. Unfortunately, there are no pleasant boys one can meet and have fun with! (No unpleasant ones either, if you prefer the hard types!) You’re not offended, I hope? But I can’t understand how you could stand to be with Becke, though you knew how he is! But you can’t judge a person without proof, and you perhaps needed to find out about him through personal experience to determine if the rumors about him were true or not?
Yesterday evening when I watched “Bonanza” with the Cartwright brothers on TV, it occurred to me that I have never asked you who you think is the most handsome, Adam or Little Joe. But you perhaps prefer Hoss? For my part, I like Adam the best. He reminds me a little bit of Uffe, I think. (Though that isn’t the reason I like him the best.) You do remember Uffe and Göran? Yes, of course you do, because Göran was your first big love.
Now I’m going to tell you how it was that I became a raggarbrud. (That’s what I am, if you didn’t know!) It’s because you (and I) met two boys called Uffe and Göran. The first time we met them we were sitting on a bench down by the river. (You know which bench I mean, don’t you?) We had been at the movies, and then we went around window shopping, as I recall. Then you proposed that we should go to Svartbäcksgatan. We knew that was where raggarna hung about, but we decided to go there just to look, we said (at those strange animals), and we sat on a bench down by Skolgatan and smoked. It was in the fall, in September. (Do you that remember, it was in September!) Yes, and then two boys came and asked if they could sit with us. Göran sat beside me, and Uffe sat beside you. They lived in Knivsta, and they were going to take the train home, because they didn’t have a car that evening. But they made an appointment with us for the next evening, on Sunday, and that evening we went to Fågelsången and had coffee. We were going there to drink coffee, and I was so nervous, because my hand was shaking so much that I could scarcely lift my cup, and you couldn’t hold your head still, so when you tried to drink, your teeth rattled against the cup. (I see Runk-Nisse before me now, the poor chap.) And then they offered each of us a cigarette, and we couldn’t say no. I think it was Uffe who offered, and he had long Chesterfields! So instead of smoking our own with normal size, we had to sit there and inhale those cigarettes in long, king size.
Yes, and then they gave us a lift hom
e in their silver-gray Volvo that they had parked at Svandammen. Göran and you sat in the back and Uffe and I sat in front, because Uffe was driving. And he said to me that I had such beautiful, blue eyes, I recall. I fell for that. Göran didn’t get to kiss you, but Uffe and I kissed, because I wasn’t as distant as you. It wasn’t the first time for me, either, as it was for you.
But after we had been out and had coffee that time, and been given a lift home, nothing else happened. We went down to the railway station and looked for their car, because we knew that they had a habit of parking there, and when we saw it we danced around for joy because they were in town. But where were they? At the movies, possibly? And so we went to the Saga cinema to meet them there when the film ended. (How we could know that they were at the Saga, I can’t remember.) And they came out and saw us, but they just said hello and walked on. And we got ahead of them to their car and sat down on a bench we knew they would pass when they came by. And after a while they turned up, and Uffe said: “Are you sitting here freezing?” They understood perfectly well why we were sitting there, but we pretended that we didn’t know they were parked nearby. And they went straight to their car without asking us if we wanted to follow along, or if they could give us a lift home, and we were so angry. In spite of that, we continued to go into town to look for them, and one evening, when they were in their car and just whistled by though we knew they had seen us, we rode with twoother guys. They were Dick and Lasse. And Lasse was so repulsive, you thought. But we let them kiss us, and that was the first time I’ve got a French kiss.
Then we started to go out regularly. We usually went to the movies first and then to Svartbäcksgatan. But we were very careful with whom we rode. We would not go with guys in big raggarbilar, and we would not go with guys who had alcohol, we said. But boys in common cars were probably almost worse, we discovered when we had started to ride with the other kind as well, with the exception that they possibly drank a little less. Guys who are real raggare don’t take anything for granted. You are not a street-walker just because you walk on the street, I mean, but ordinary boys more often seem to believe that. Wasn’t that what Göran thought about you, for example? Yes, exactly! But that’s not the case.
Hop in Then! Page 9
