Stig Dagerman - A Burnt Child

It isn’t until he is standing and panting in the alcove that he realizes how dead tired he is. Soaked, limp, and heavy as lead, he is barely able to climb up into bed. He is even too exhausted to open the sliding door to the room and the alcove with the closed shutter. Nevertheless, beneath his extreme exhaustion is a lump of happiness. Because he is glad to have been saved. So he doesn’t need anything else to make him happy. And when the fiancée leans out of her bed, and up to his, and says in a whisper, I’ll be better tomorrow, he can only manage to sigh an incomprehensible word, a single little word. Then he falls asleep. Berit does not sleep.

They are quite happy on Midsummer Eve. People are almost always happy on Midsummer Eve, even they who have no reason to be. They eat and go swimming. Even Berit swims to show Bengt that she is well. Otherwise, she is afraid of swimming, she doesn’t swim well, and she freezes in the water. But she swims all the same. They row into the tall, brazen waves, away from the boats that rattle or glide past them by motor or wind. They row so close to the mainland that they can see all the flags waving in the yards. The four of them are together the whole day, for each one of them knows that it’s dangerous not to be together. At night, each one of them has felt it, whether consciously or in their dreams.

They put the record player on the table outside on the porch. There’s also wine, glasses, and flowers that the women picked from a skerry. It is late and beautiful, and they hang a kerosene lamp by a nail to illuminate all the beauty. Then they dance underneath the light. That is, only three of them dance—Bengt does not. He can’t dance. Well, maybe a little foxtrot. Besides, he doesn’t even want to, at least not with Gun. Because then he would be forced to touch her, but after last night he knows that isn’t possible. Besides, they are only playing hambo and old-time waltzes. Bengt doesn’t watch when the father dances with Gun. He just drinks. But he does look when the father dances with Berit, and he drinks some more. After so much wine he becomes rather tipsy. Gun has been drinking, too, but only enough to make her carefree. They are all drinking wine, but none so much as he.

The stack of records gets smaller and smaller. Gun is glowing and happy. She is wearing her bathing suit and a black skirt over it. The father dances mostly with her and is therefore able to dance faster. He has to dance slowly with Berit or else she gets a headache. And maybe she already has one, because she is pallid under the light of the lamp. At last, the bottles are empty. Bengt grips the table as Berit strokes his arm. Excited, Gun and the father are standing by the rail and watching the sea. Boats with lights and music onboard glide by in the distance. Suddenly, a rocket shoots up from the low island. They cheer in awe as a dazzling shower of blue and green sparks flutters down. They wait for another one, but nothing comes. Then they get cold and want to go to bed. But Berit, who is standing next to Bengt, is flipping through the records. She finally finds a foxtrot and puts it on. She wants to dance with Bengt. He knows he’s a clumsy dancer, but when he dances with Berit, he only does it to show the two others he can, but that he didn’t want to before. Because Berit also dances pretty badly, they are already dissatisfied with each other before the song is over. When they finish, the father says:

Bengt! Now you have to have a dance with Gun.

Gun puts on the same record again, goes up to him, closer than she really should.

Otherwise I’ll be hurt, she says to Bengt.

So he takes her by the shoulder, reluctantly, almost as if touching her is revolting to him. He does want to punish her and what better way to do that than to dance with her and show her how much he despises holding her body. But the dance seems to last forever. It’s the first time he’s ever touched her for so long, and by the end his hands are completely wet. When they finally do stop, he notices he was holding her tight; maybe he even hurt her, because afterward she grabs her shoulder as if feeling for the pain. He no longer regrets the dance.

He notices something else when the dance is over: Berit is gone. When he goes to bed, he hears her quiet sobs behind the curtain. He doesn’t feel like asking her why she’s crying. He has no desire to speak with her, to touch her even. The wine has made him too tired. The father and Gun have also gone to bed. He waits to hear the father snoring through the half-open sliding door. But he never hears it, and while falling asleep, an unexpected noise jolts him wide-awake. It’s a doorknob that turned with a creak, the kitchen doorknob. He jumps noiselessly to the ground and puts on his pants and a shirt. Just as quietly, he opens the window and lands on the rocks outside. On tiptoe, though he wouldn’t have been heard anyway, he sneaks around the island. The boat is still in its place. No voices can be heard. They must be somewhere in the silence. It’s just before sunrise. Above the sea, the red-hot sky is about to burst. As he tiptoes across the little arch, it creaks but not too loudly. He quickly hides himself behind some bushes. For a short yet dangerous moment, he peers down at the little square patch of grass and flowers. Gun is sitting there. Her body is wrapped in her yellow robe—only her shoulders are bare. Her shoulders are white and naked, and when the father, who is sprawled out next to her, suddenly puts his hand on one of them, it doesn’t become whiter. But it does become more naked, excruciatingly naked.

When he goes back to the cottage, he leaves the door ajar and opens the sliding door a little more. He draws the curtains and plops down heavily beside the fiancée. He is aroused and full of hate, and when he kisses her awake, he does it out of hate. But she thinks it’s out of love and since he has never kissed her like that before, she becomes warmer than she has ever been before. She is so warm that she’s finally able to be happy. Afterward, he is warm and limp, and his hate is limp, too, but also very deep. He gets up and closes both of the doors. He also draws the curtains and closes the shutter. He hopes to sleep in for as long as possible the next morning. It’s the morning of their last day at sea, the day he will get revenge. From the darkness, the fiancée stretches her pale arms up to him.

You have made me so happy, she whispers.

Then he leans over and kisses her rather coldly on her lips. They are too open, and one of them has a sore. When the father and Gun do come back, he only hears it in the form of a dream, a short and insignificant dream.

On the day of his revenge, they all sleep in very late. Berit is particularly happy that day. When they swim, she laughs louder than the others and thrusts herself more boldly against the waves. Her body is slender and white, whereas Gun already has a nice tan. Berit is wearing a black bathing suit that is pretty old-fashioned. In the water she acts almost like his mother, which irritates Bengt. Apparently, the father is also irritated. When she voluntarily asks for some liquor at breakfast, they’re taken aback—as if they had heard an unusually crude swear word. And she isn’t upset when Bengt moves her glass away. She only said it because she wanted to be loved, not because she really wanted to drink. She isn’t upset. She just doesn’t understand. There is a lot she won’t be able to understand as the day goes on.

It’s very hot in the afternoon. They grow tired and weak and lie out on the beach, half-sleeping till evening. The men are lying on the outer sides. Gun is wearing sunglasses with red frames and opaque lenses. So it’s difficult to see whether her eyes are closed. Despite this, however, Bengt takes a chance and slowly props himself on his elbow and gazes at her, starting from the top and working his way down. Then he flings himself into the burning sand, his hatred burning so hot that he has to find some shade. So he leaves the sand and goes alone to the square patch, where he lies down in the cool grass. As soon as he lies down, he realizes that it’s a very bad spot if he wants to cool off. Because now he is even hotter. But instead of leaving, he throws himself on his stomach, rips up the grass, bites into it like an animal, digs his body into it, and attacks it. Berit, who suddenly catches him, doesn’t understand a thing. She merely runs away in fear.