by Jon Fosse
Dropping by again? I say.
And I hear my neighbour breathe heavily and I see him nod.
Not a typical day today, I say.
The neighbour stops next to me and stands there gasping for breath.
And now it’s raining too, I say.
The neighbour nods, he stands there taking deep breaths.
Well let’s get inside, I say.
The neighbour nods, but doesn’t move. I see my neighbour staring at the grave. My neighbour’s an old man, soon he’ll die too, probably before too long the way he’s breathing so heavily. I look at my neighbour.
Been digging, my neighbour says.
No one was supposed to know that I was digging, but my neighbour saw me and now I have to answer him. Why is he asking? But I do have to say something, now that he’s asked, because clearly I’ve been digging. I had to dig, didn’t I.
Um-hm, I say.
Looks like a grave, my neighbour says.
I hear my neighbour saying it looks like a grave, and it is a grave, but I can’t say that can I, I can’t say it’s a grave because the neighbour might misunderstand that, and then he might think things, and so I can’t say that, can’t say it’s a grave. I hear my neighbour breathing hard but not as hard as before, he’s got his breath back a little.
Should we go inside, I say.
I see the neighbour nod.
It sure is raining, I say.
The neighbour nods. I go open the front door, leave it open, walk into the hall. I see the neighbour come in the front door. He turns around and shuts the door. I go into the living room leaving the door open behind me. I go over to the window, stand there, and look at the grave. Now it’s done, that’s it then. It would’ve been better if no one had seen me, but it doesn’t matter that much that my neighbour saw me, I’m sure no one else did, just my neighbour. I look at the grave, a rectangle in the middle of the garden with a small pile of earth on top. I see the rain hitting the earth. I hear the neighbour come walking into the living room, he shuts the door behind him. I stand there watching the rain hit the earth.
Looking at the weather? my neighbour says.
I hear my neighbour come walking heavily across the room and stop next to me.
Yes, I say.
It’s changing fast, the neighbour says.
I nod.
Yesterday the fjord was smooth as glass, wasn’t bad this morning either, but now it’s really coming down, the neighbour says.
Yes, it’s changing fast.
I hear my neighbour taking long slow breaths in and long slow breaths out.
It’s so strange your dog not being here, the neighbour says.
I look at my neighbour and look down. My neighbour’s asked about my dog, he has no business asking about my dog. My neighbour can’t stand there asking about my dog. My dog is just my dog, the neighbour shouldn’t ask about my dog. My dog is none of my neighbour’s business. He can’t ask me about my dog.
Don’t think I’ve ever seen you without a dog, the neighbour says.
Um-hm, I say.
There’s always a dog around in your house.
The neighbour keeps talking about my dog, but my dog is none of my neighbour’s business. He needs to stop talking about my dog like that. My neighbour needs to stop.
Would you like some coffee? I say.
I see my neighbour nod.
Your cup’s still there on the table, I say.
The neighbour turns around and I see him look at the coffee cup on the living room table. The chair where my neighbour was sitting earlier is still pulled out from the table. The neighbour walks across the room with short heavy steps, sits down. I hear him sigh. I see the thermos sitting on the little round table and I pick it up, I pour some coffee for my neighbour. I hear the neighbour say that’s good thanks when I’ve filled half his cup. I go over to my cup and I hear my neighbour say yes, well, and I pour myself some coffee. And what the hell is my neighbour driving at, asking and asking about my dog? What does he want? Can’t he leave me alone? What is it my neighbour wants? You should leave people alone. The neighbour can’t keep pushing like that. I put my thermos down, taste the coffee, and feel that the coffee is lukewarm and I say a bastard, that’s what he was, got what he deserved, and I put my cup down and I say a fucker, you know, a fucker, you know.
Yes, well, the neighbour says.
Just talking to myself, I say.
You do that too, mm-hmm, the neighbour says. It’s very strange that the dog’s not here.
I look at the window, rain is running down the window.
Um-hm, I say.
You always have a dog running in circles around you, the neighbour says.
I get up, go over to the window, stop, look out. My neighbour keeps talking and talking about my dog, why’s he doing that, what does he want? Why does my neighbour keep talking about my dog? My neighbour comes over twice in the same day and sits here talking about my dog. What does he want? Why does he keep talking about my dog? Have to say something.
Nasty weather out there, I say.
I turn around and see my neighbour sitting and looking down at his hands. My neighbour has folded his hands in his lap.
Where’s the dog, he’s not here, the neighbour says.
He’s out, I say.
Um-hm.
He does that sometimes.
Aren’t you worried about him?
The neighbour is asking aren’t I worried about my dog. Have to say something. I can say that I am worried about my dog, I have to say that. I can’t stand here and not say anything.
No, I say. Dogs go outside all the time.
Is it a male dog, your dog? the neighbour says.
I nod.
But females go outside too, I say.
I see you’ve been digging, the neighbour says.
I turn back to the window, watch the rain beating hard on the soil.
I saw you were digging, my neighbour says.
Why does my neighbour have to say that? Why does he have to say twice that I’ve been digging? What does my neighbour want? Why has he come to see me twice and talked and talked about my dog and about my digging?
It’s coming down hard now, I say.
Yes, this is quite a day, my neighbour says.
I stand in front of the window, look at my boat at the dock tugging at the line, bobbing up and down. I see the rain beating hard against the earth.
It’s changing quickly, I say.
Yesterday was such a nice day, my neighbour says.
Why is my neighbour sitting here? Why did my neighbour come to see me twice on the same day? What does my neighbour want?
Shouldn’t you go look for your dog? my neighbour says.
He’ll be right back, I say.
Yes, you’ll be reunited soon, the neighbour says.
I turn around and look at my neighbour.
More coffee? I ask.
My neighbour shakes his head.
I should probably be getting home, my neighbour says. We’ll probably get a visit from the police pretty soon.
I look at my neighbour. He’s just said that we’ll be getting a visit from the police soon. Are the police coming, are they going to go from door to door asking questions? Probably. The police are coming. Maybe that’s why my neighbour wants to sit here, because the police are about to come? And then the police will see the grave, they’re going to see that there’s a grave in the garden. I have to cover the grave, put a bag or something over the grave, anyway I have to cover the grave because the police mustn’t see the grave. I have to cover the grave right away.
You think the police are coming by, I say.
Oh I’m sure they are, the neighbour says.
I see my neighbour stand up, then I look down and go sit down in the armchair, looking straight ahead.
Better be getting home then, my neighbour says.
I hear my neighbour walk across the room, open the living room door, go out into the hall.
&nb
sp; Talk to you soon, the neighbour says.
Yes, sure, I say.
And I hear my neighbour shut the living room door and walk down the hall, open the front door, close the front door. I get up, go into the kitchen, take out the bread board, cut myself a slice of bread. I haven’t eaten in a long time and I’m hungry. I go over to the fridge, take out some butter and cheese. I butter the slice of bread, add cheese. I stand in the kitchen and eat. I look out the window, rain is running down the window. Now I have to do something, I do. But what should I do? I’ve done it. There’s nothing more to do. I can’t do anything more now. I look out the window, rain is running down the window. I get a glass, go to the fridge, and pour myself a glass of milk. I drink the milk down in two gulps, put the glass on the kitchen counter. I go into the living room, get the cups, carry them into the kitchen, put them down on the kitchen counter. Because I can at least wash up. There’s not much to wash up, but I might as well wash up anyway. And then I have to go hide the grave. Because the grave can’t just be lying out there in the open when the police come over. I have to get the grave covered. I have to do that first, I can take care of the dishes later. But I don’t really need to hide the grave. No one who comes is going to notice it anyway, probably, it’s just a small patch of dirt in all that grass. I don’t need to hide the grave. There’s really no reason to cover the grave, is there? I don’t need to do that. But I can take the dishes into the kitchen, because I have to do something. Now I have to do something. It’s early in the day and I have to do something. And where’s my dog? What have I done with my dog? Because my dog has to be somewhere or another. Where’s my dog? I have to find my dog! I’ve always had a dog. I have to find my dog again. I stand at the window and can’t see the dog anywhere. I grip the kitchen counter, lean towards the window, look out, rain is running down the window, and I can’t see my dog anywhere. Where has that dog got to? My dog can’t just disappear? I have to find my dog. I look out the window, rain is running down the window. Where’s my dog? I look out and see someone walk past the window. I just saw someone walk by, out on the porch. Was that someone walking by? Someone just walked by, on the porch. I saw someone walk by, a raincoat. I saw someone walk past the window. Someone walked past the window. And there can’t be anyone there. Why would anyone be there? Then there’s a knock on the door. A knock. I have to open the door, don’t I, have to let the person knocking on the door come in. Because someone walked past the window, a raincoat. Someone’s coming. And there was a knock on the door. I’m still standing in front of the window. And someone knocked on the door. Again a knock at the door. I just stand there and look out, rain is running down the window. Someone walked past the window. I see someone go back out into the yard and stop. She stands there and looks in the window, at me. It’s the woman who told me about my dog, that my dog had been shot. She’s standing in the yard and looking in the window, at me. What’s she doing in the yard? She looks me in the eye and then she looks down. She wants to talk to me and I have to go outside. It’s the woman who told me he’d shot my dog, it’s her standing out in the yard, in the rain, and I have to go let her in, obviously, of course that’s what I have to do. Why did she come over? I go out into the hall, open the front door. I see her standing in the yard, a raincoat, in the middle of the yard. I stand in the door and look at her.
Don’t you want to let anyone into the house, she says.
I look at her.
It’s you, I say.
Were you expecting someone else? she says.
Come in, I say. It’s really raining, you can at least come into the hall.
So you do invite people in then, she says.
Yes.
But you didn’t come to the door when I knocked? You just stood in the window staring at me.
Yes, well, won’t you come in?
She nods. I step into a pair of shoes, go out onto the front porch and the rain hits my hair and my face. It’s really raining. I look up at the sky and it rains right onto my face. I raise my hands, wipe off my face, wipe away the rain. She walks past me into the hall. I go inside, shut the front door, kick my shoes off. I see her standing in the hall looking down.
