The Birds

by Tarjei Vesaas

  Why did you come?

  There would be no reply.

  But it was to be found in those eyes – eyes that were not his, but came from far off and had looked through night and day. It came nearer. It lit up. Then it was gone again and all was black.

  He thought quickly: Mattis the Simpleton.

  Simple Simon.

  How they would laugh if they saw me standing here, looking at myself in the mirror.

  At last he remembered what he’d really come into Hege’s room for. He’d come to look for gray hair.

  None in front. He bent his head, and in his search for gray hair on top his eyes rolled upward under the lock of hair that fell over his forehead. Not a single one. Then he peered as far back behind each ear as he could.

  Not a single gray hair anywhere. And he was only three years younger than Hege after all, and she was forty.

  No, here’s a fellow with hair that’ll last him for some time, he thought.

  But in three years I’ll have caught up with Hege.

  Not a single gray hair. My word, I’m going to tell Hege about this and give her a real fright, he thought, forgetting that she hadn’t liked this topic of conversation.

  He strode out again. Hege was bound to be sitting on the steps with her sweater-work still.

  There she was right enough. The sweater seemed to grow of its own accord in her quick hands. They were performing a kind of silent dance, while the sweater took shape, unaided.

  “Well?” she said, seeing him come out in such a hurry.

  Mattis pointed to his mop of hair:

  “Not a single gray hair on me, Hege. I’ve been inside and looked in the mirror.”

  Hege didn’t want to discuss the subject again.

  “I see,” she said curtly.

  “Isn’t it splendid?” he asked.

  “Of course it’s splendid,” she replied calmly.

  “Yes, just look at you,” he said, “I bet you wish—”

  “Uff!”

  He stopped at once. There was something about Hege that pulled him up short.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked, frightened.

  At last she got up.

  “Mattis.”

  He looked at her, nervously.

  “Well, go on.”

  “I don’t think it’s much fun, the way you’re going on and on about this tonight.”

  “Fun? Do we have fun?” he replied. What an odd thing for her to say, he thought.

  Hege looked at him helplessly. Frightened all of a sudden. Something had to be done quickly, for Mattis was on the point of starting something she couldn’t cope with.

  “We have more fun than you realize,” she said firmly, driving the point home like a nail. “It’s just that you don’t give it a thought. We have fun every single day!”

  He bent his head, but asked: “When?”

  “When?” she said, sternly.

  She went on again. This had to be stopped.

  “Use your brains, Mattis,” she said, forgetting the usual sting. Stood above him, insistent, although she was shorter.

  Mattis replied: “I’m thinking so hard it’s almost killing me.”

  “Then surely you remember lots of fun.”

  He thought, gave no reply.

  Hege persisted. The fact had to be established so firmly that there was no room left for the slightest doubt.

  “We have more fun than other people!”

  “Do we really?” He started mumbling feebly, almost inaudibly.

  “Yes!” she said. “And you must never forget it.”

  She left it at that. Mattis straightened up a little, but dared not protest. Hege was clever and no doubt knew what things were fun. Best not to protest and make a fool of oneself.

  She looked at him angrily.

  “I didn’t realize this,” was all he said.

  Then a bright idea suddenly struck him, and he said in a happy voice: “It was a good thing you told me.”

  “What?”

  “Since I didn’t know.”

  He felt happy, laughed a little.

  “Are you going in already?” he said.

  Hege gave him a weary nod instead of answering and went into the house.

  4

  HEGE WENT to bed earlier than usual that evening, too. At least she went into her room earlier. Mattis was about to ask why, but before he managed to do so she stopped him with an impatient: “Oh wait until tomorrow, Mattis! Please, dear you, let this be enough for today.”

  Listening to her, he lost the desire to ask any more questions. She was in a bad mood, she could go. He wondered if he’d done anything wrong. The business of her hair, no doubt. Was it so dreadful that her hair was gray while his wasn’t? After all, he couldn’t help it.

  But it was Hege who fed him, so she had him well in her grip. Above all she was clever, and that was what he respected most.

  Hege left him without saying another word. He stayed behind thinking about it all.

  Tomorrow I must take a trip around the farms and see if anybody’s got any work for me, he thought, dreading it already.

  Because that’s the root of the trouble. Hege feeds me all year round. And so she has for forty years, he felt he might as well add. At least he wouldn’t be making it out to be less than it actually was.

  Feeds me. Feeds me.

  The word had a bitter taste. It was like chewing the bark of an aspen tree.

  And chew it he had to, year in, year out. Sitting alone as he was now. He had to put it on his tongue and taste it. There was no escape. It was the bitterest of all the words he knew.

  Tomorrow I’m going to work.

  Provided nothing stops me, he added quickly, to be on the safe side.

  He had a hazy recollection of the many days when he’d started working for somebody. On a farm or in the fields, or in the forest. There was always something which upset things for him so that he couldn’t finish the job. And after that they didn’t ask him to work there anymore. The clever ones, the ones who owned things and had jobs to offer, they looked right through him.

  And so he had to return to Hege empty-handed. She was used to it by now and just accepted it. But she went on struggling in order to keep him. Wonder what she really thought about it after all.

  Be tough tomorrow. Face it bravely, go over to the farms and ask for a job.

  “I can’t go on like this forever,” he said in a fierce tone into the empty air. “I must get some work, Hege’s gone gray.”

  He began to realize: It’s me who’s made Hege go gray.

  Gradually the whole truth of the matter dawned on him. He felt very ashamed of himself.

  5

  IT GREW LATE. Much later than Mattis generally stayed up. All the same he didn’t feel like going to bed, and went on strolling around outside. When something was eating you, it was even worse lying in bed, twisting and turning.

  Perhaps Hege isn’t asleep either. She went into her room early just to avoid me.

  “And it’s not much fun knowing that,” he said in a loud voice, so loud that she could possibly have heard it in her room.

  He felt very depressed.

  A sudden thought made him start: You mustn’t leave me! He gasped, turned toward the room where Hege lay. Whatever happens to you or me you mustn’t leave me.

  This was by no means a new thought, but it felt new each time, and just as painful. And each time he had to dismiss it as nonsense, Hege had never as much as breathed a word about leaving him. Why should he torment himself like this?

  The vision would not leave him. He saw Hege walking away, farther and farther. She was carrying all her belongings in a little parcel under her arm.

  Are you leaving?

  Yes, Mattis.

  This is very sad, Hege.

  Yes, Mattis.

  Then she began walking again.

  She wasn’t listening to him anymore, she grew smaller and smaller, until eventually she was only a tiny black dot – and there she
remained. Couldn’t disappear altogether in this sad charade.

  Just at this moment came the great event.

  He was deep in thought, with visions of Hege walking away, sitting in his usual place on the steps looking across the lake to the hills in the west. The lake was black now, and the hills deep and dark. A fine summer twilight everywhere, in the sky and on earth. Mattis was by no means blind to things like that.

  Their cottage stood in a marshy little hollow that rose from the lake. Birches and aspens were dotted among the conifers. A little brook ran down through the hollow. Sometimes Mattis thought it was more beautiful here than any other place he had seen – of the few places he knew.

  Perhaps this was what he felt now, too – he was certainly lost in contemplation and let the twilight grow deeper and deeper, in so far as you could call it twilight and not just something unspeakably gentle.

  At that moment the unexpected happened.

  This side of the wind it is still, he had just been thinking, as he stared toward the two aspens and the evening sky. Something was filtering through the treetops, it was so clear he felt he could see it. No wind, just something filtering through – and on this side it was so still that not a leaf on the other aspen trembled.

  But suddenly came a tiny little sound! A strange cry. And at the same time he could just make out quick flapping wings in the air above him. Then came more faint calls in a helpless bird language.

  It went straight across the house.

  But it went straight through Mattis as well. A wordless excitement arose inside him; he sat there wide-awake and confused:

  Was it supernatural?

  No anything but, and yet—

  It was a woodcock that had flapped over the house. And the woodcock didn’t do that sort of thing by chance, not at this time of the day. A flight had begun over his house!

  When had it started?

  Because it hadn’t been there any spring before as far back as he could remember. He’d been out late enough to have seen and heard it if it had.

  But tonight it was going right overhead, over Hege and himself, and that’s how it would be from now on, every single morning and evening.

  Mattis looked at his house. It seemed to be a different house now, you had to look at it with different eyes. The woodcock had always seemed to be something that glided through valleys far away from all that was his. That was how he had always imagined it. Now, this evening, it was here, it had simply moved right here. That’s to say if it wasn’t an illusion – he knew he was given to illusions. Had anyone ever heard of a woodcock moving from its usual path? Not as far as he knew. And why had it come here?

  Mattis sat waiting almost breathless. For if it was a proper flight, the bird would return in a little while, along the same path, again and again during the short hour that the evening flight lasted. He knew this from other areas where flights occurred. Early in the morning, too, the bird moved along the same path, a fowler had told him so. On dry marshlands he had sometimes seen the marks of woodcocks’ beaks, next to the imprints of their dainty feet.

  He sat waiting, full of excitement. The moments seemed to drag on, and his doubts grew stronger.

  But hush, there it was. The flapping wings, the bird itself, indistinct, speeding through the air straight across the house and off in the other direction. Gone again, hidden by the gentle dusk and the sleeping treetops.

  Then Mattis said in a firm voice: “So the woodcock came at last.”

  He didn’t know how or why he said this. It was the least he could say and do – and no one was listening as he said it.

  He felt as if something were over and done with, after a long and difficult time.

  His first thought was to tell Hege about it, he wanted to rush in right away. Sleeping or awake, she must hear about this at once. But he stopped. If it was true, then the bird would soon be back a third time, and Mattis was so unsure of himself that he felt he had to wait for this third appearance. Sit and wait full of joy.

  Hege’s got to believe me if I’ve seen it three times. Everybody’ll have to believe it then.

  Hush, there it was again.

  Just as before, the flapping, the shadow in the dusk, quick as an arrow – and then the faint call, whether anyone was listening or not. Straight across the roof, and away, out into space. Then it was simply late evening once more.

  But it’s come. Now I know something he concluded, without going any further into the matter. There was no doubt about it, he felt different.

  And Hege asleep.

  Now Hege would be able to feel different, too.

  6

  HEGE ASLEEP – HEGE who was like lightning with her eight-petaled roses and sweaters, and who could cope with difficulties – Mattis was no longer sure which of them was more important. At this moment he almost felt like putting himself first.

  He went into her room, making quite a noise.

  It was a silly thing to do. Hege had long since gone to bed, perhaps even fallen asleep, so this was an unfortunate moment to disturb her. Her tone was rather sharp.

  “What’s the matter now?” she burst out before he could find words for his overflowing emotions. He recognized this tone only too well. She had obviously just fallen asleep, and then he came tramping in. But he also knew what would follow; she was already clearing her throat as a way of softening the impact of her first wounding remark.

  “What is it, Mattis?” she said wearily, in a low voice that was now friendly and full of remorse.

  The news Mattis was bringing was great. He hardly knew how to put it into words. In the end he said simply: “There’s a woodcock started flying over here tonight!” His voice was hard and inflexible. He almost felt like a stranger standing by her bed.

  Hege seemed to notice the tone of his voice. A tongue numbed by wonder and awe. But there’d been so many strange things that Mattis had come rushing to tell her. Things that were usually soon explained and no longer strange.

  She said quietly: “A woodcock? Oh, I see. Well, go and get some sleep now, Mattis.”

  He didn’t understand.

  “Go to bed now, Mattis,” she said gently, seeing the distraught expression on his face.

  Mattis groaned with disappointment.

  “Didn’t you hear what I said? There’s a woodcock here! It’s moved! It’s flying straight across the roof of our house! Now! This very minute, while you are sitting there in bed.”

  Hege remained sitting as before, with the same expression on her face.

  “Of course I heard. But what of it? Can’t you let the woodcock come and go as it likes?”

  He didn’t understand her. It was as if she were speaking a language he didn’t understand.

  “Doesn’t it mean anything to you? Have you ever heard of a woodcock changing it’s path like that and going right over your head?”

  She shrugged her shoulders.

  “What’s the good of asking me?”

  “No, I bet you haven’t. Put on your things now and come outside.”

  “Outside? Now, in the middle of the night?”

  “Of course, you must see it too.”

  “No, Mattis,” she said.

  “You must! It’s going on out there now. If this isn’t anything important either, then—”

  Hege’s only reply was to lie down again. She yawned, heavy with sleep.

  “I’m sure you found it fun to watch,” she said, but surely I can see it some other time. If it’s here, it’s here, isn’t it?”

  Mattis stared at her open-mouthed.

  “If it’s here, it’s here!” he repeated horrified. “And you’re supposed to be razor-sharp?” he blurted out without thinking.

  “What do you mean?” she asked.

  “You don’t understand anything then,” he summed up.

  He stood over her, disappointed and helpless.

  Gently she touched his arm. He took it as a sign of friendship. He didn’t see how worn out and miserable Hege was at this mo
ment. She lay there in her faded nightdress, not looking at him, her face turned to the wall.

  “Let’s talk about this in the morning, Mattis. Go to bed now, do you hear?”

  To Mattis it sounded like madness – throwing away a chance like this.

  “I’m telling you it’s going on now. And you don’t want to come out and see? I can’t understand you. Nothing seems to mean anything to you.”

  Finally Hege couldn’t stand it any longer. She beat her hand against the edge of her bed and cried: “You don’t know what you’re talking about. And coming from you, you who are—” she stopped suddenly.

  He asked in a frightened voice: “What am I?”

  With her back to him, she shouted: “Leave me in peace, please! I can’t go on any longer if you don’t—oh, please go away, it’s very late and I must get some sleep, Mattis.”

  She gave a jerk, turning even farther away from him. He saw her shoulders begin to quiver. It shook him profoundly, made him feel guilty, whether he was or not.

  He felt bewildered. Had he been unkind to her? He’d simply wanted to please her with the woodcock. It didn’t occur to him that it wasn’t as great an event for Hege as it was for him. It was going on out there now, this very minute – and Hege didn’t care, shouted at him, and lay there weeping in incomprehensible helplessness.

  “But Hege—I meant no harm, I just wanted you to—”

  But now she was absolutely wild: “Did you hear what I said,” she screamed, and he hastily retreated the few steps that were necessary to get out of her room. He closed the door gently, as if Hege were asleep and mustn’t be disturbed.

  How different people are, he thought in a bewildered way when he got outside. At least, Hege and I are.

  I don’t think she even believes me.

  But I saw it and I heard it. I’ll swear I saw it. The flight’s just finished for tonight, that’s all.

  And now let’s sing a song, said a voice inside him. Not that he began singing. It just seemed to follow on naturally after “finished for tonight.” I’ve been to all sorts of meetings, so I’ve got a pretty good idea of how things are done there.

  Finished for tonight. For now the bird had found his sweetheart.