Karl Knausgaard - My Struggle - Book Three

I swung a leg over my bike.

“Bye!” I said.

“Bye!” she said. “See you tomorrow!”

I cycled off, casually to the observer, until I was out of sight, then I stood on the pedals, leaned forward, and began to pump like a wild man. It was absolutely fantastic and absolutely awful. Go to your place, she had said. She had known where I lived. And she wanted to be with me. Not only that. We were going out. I was going out with Kajsa! Oh, everything I wanted was now within reach! Though not yet. What would I talk to her about? What would we do?

When I turned into our drive half an hour later, Mom was sitting on the terrace behind the house reading the newspaper with a cup of coffee on the camping table in front of her. I went over and sat down.

“Where’s Dad?” I said.

“He’s gone fishing,” she said. “How was the match?”

“Good,” I said. “We won.”

Brief silence.

“Has something happened?” Mom said, looking at me.

“No,” I said.

“Something on your mind?”

“No, not really,” I said.

She sent me a smile and went on reading the newspaper. The sound of a radio wafted over from Prestbakmo’s. I looked up. Martha was sitting, like Mom, in a camping chair with a newspaper spread out in front of her. Nearby, next to the stone wall facing the forest, Prestbakmo himself was bent over a bed in the vegetable garden with a trowel in his hand. Then a movement on the path made me turn my head. It was Freddie, I saw at once, he was an albino and his white hair was unmistakable. He was in the fourth class and had an archery bow on his back.

I looked at Mom again.

“Do you know what a jessie is, Mom?” I said.

She lowered the newspaper.

“A jessie?” she said.

“Yes.”

“No, not really. But it is a girl’s name.”

“So, like a girl?”

“I suppose so. Why do you ask? Have you been called a jessie ?”

“No, not at all. I just heard it after the match today. Someone else was called it. I just hadn’t heard it before.”

She glanced at me, I could see she was on the point of saying something, and I got up.

“Oh well,” I said. “Better bring my soccer gear in.”

After supper I went into Yngve’s room and told him what had happened.

“I got together with Kajsa this evening,” I said.

He looked up from the school books spread over his desk and smiled.

“Kajsa? I haven’t heard her name before. Who’s she?”

“She’s at Roligheden. In the sixth class. She looks really good.”

“I don’t doubt that,” Yngve said. “Congratulations.”

“Thanks,” I said. “But there’s just one thing … I need some advice …”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t know … Well, I don’t know her at all. I don’t know … what should we do? She’s coming over tomorrow, and I don’t even know what to say!”

“It’ll be fine,” Yngve said. “Just don’t think about and it’ll be fine. You can always make out instead of talking!”

“Ha ha.”

“It’ll be fine, Karl Ove. Relax.”

“Do you think so?”

“Goes without saying.”

“OK,” I said. “What are you doing?”

“Homework. Chemistry. And then geography.”

“I’m looking forward to starting at gymnas ,” I said.

“Lots of reading to do,” Yngve said.

“Yes,” I said. “All the same.”

Yngve turned back to his book and I went to my room. Yngve had just finished the first year at gymnas and I understood he wanted to do social studies while Dad wanted him to do natural sciences, so that was what he had to do. It was a bit odd because Dad’s subjects were Norwegian and English.

I put on McCartney II and lay down on the bed wondering what I could say and do the next day. Every so often I had an attack of the shivers. Imagine me actually going out with her! Perhaps she was lying in bed, in her room, in her house, thinking about me this very minute? Perhaps she had gone to bed, perhaps she was wearing only panties in bed? I rolled over onto my stomach and rubbed my groin against the mattress while singing “Temporary Secretary” and thinking about all that lay in store for me.

She arrived an hour after we’d had dinner. I had been pacing by the windows facing the road and was as prepared as I could be. Nevertheless, it was a shock to see her cycling up the hill. For a few seconds I was unable to breathe normally. Kent Arne, Geir Håkon, Leif Tore, and Øyvind were outside, hanging over the handlebars of their bikes, and when they all turned to look at her a rush of pride surged through me. No one had ever seen a more attractive girl in Tybakken. And it was me she had come to see.

I put on my shoes and jacket and went out.

She had stopped by them and was chatting.

I grabbed my bike and pushed it over.

“She was asking where you lived, Karl Ove!” Geir Håkon said.

“Oh yes?” I said to him. Meeting Kajsa’s gaze. “Hi,” I said. “You found your way here?”

“Yes, it was no problem,” she said. “I didn’t know exactly which house it was, but …”

“Shall we go?” I said.

“All right,” she said.

I mounted my bike. She mounted hers.

“See you!” I said to the four boys. I turned to her. “We can go up there.”

“Fine,” she said.

I knew they were watching us and that they were more than ordinarily envious of me. How on earth had he done it? they were thinking. Where had he met her? And how in the name of all things living and moving had he managed to land her?

After we had cycled part of the way up, Kajsa got off her bike. I did the same. A wind rose through the forest, rustling the leaves beside us, and then it dropped. The sound of tires on tarmac. Trouser legs rubbing against each other. The cork heels of her sandals on the road.

I waited for her to come alongside.

“That’s a nice jacket,” I said. “Where did you get it?”

“Thank you,” she said. “At Bajazzo’s in Kristiansand.”

“Oh,” I said.

We reached the crossroads with Elgstien. Her breasts were swaying; my eyes were permanently drawn to them. Did she notice?

“We can go over to the shop and see if anyone’s there,” I said.

“Sure,” she said.

Was she regretting this already?

Should I kiss her now? Would that be right?

We were at the top of the hill and I swung a leg over the bike saddle. Waited until her feet were on the pedals, then I set off. Another gust of wind blew past us. I cycled with one hand and half-turned to her.

“Do you know Lars?” I said.

“Lars, yes,” she said. “We’re neighbors. And we’re in the same class. Do you know him? Of course you do. You’re on the same team.”

“Yes,” I said. “Did you watch the whole match last night?”

“Oh yes. You’re a very good team!”

I didn’t answer. I put my other hand on the handlebars and freewheeled down the little hill to B-Max. It was closed and there was no one around.

“Doesn’t seem to be anyone here,” I said. “Want to go to your house?”

“All right,” she said.

I decided I would kiss her if a glimmer of a chance arose. And definitely hold her hand. Something had to happen. After all we were girlfriend and boyfriend now.

Kajsa was my girlfriend!

But no chance arose. We cycled along the old gravel road up to Kjenna, which was deserted, up the hills to her house and stopped outside. We hadn’t exchanged many words on the way, but enough to know it hadn’t been a disaster.

“Mom and Dad are home,” she said. “So you can’t come in.”

Did that mean I could when they weren’t?

“OK,” I said. “But it’s late. Maybe I should be getting back.”