Karl Knausgaard - Some Rain Must Fall

Then we had met at a party, smiled at each other — and that was that?

Yes, that was that.

How was it possible? How could it change everything?’

Because everything was changed, I knew that. My heart told me. And the heart is never wrong.

The heart is never ever wrong.

I went home, slept for a couple of hours, had a shower, sat down by the phone, had to ring her and thank her, ask if we could meet again. I hesitated, suddenly afraid to ruin anything. But I had to.

I forced myself to dial the number, stopped before the last digit, then dialled. A woman, it must have been her mother, answered.

‘Karl Ove here,’ I said. ‘Is Tonje at home?’

‘No, she isn’t. She’s out at the moment. Can I give her a message?’

‘Please tell her I called. I’ll try again later perhaps.’

I lay down on my bed, my whole body aching.

I stood by the window, looked down at the enormous aerials on the TV2 building, felt the allure of the darkness above them.

I dressed and went out. I ached. I walked towards Nordnes, a snowplough thundered past with flashing lights. I passed the aquarium and went on towards the park, reached the point of the headland, stood there with the wind blowing against me and watched the sea washing ashore below, the vast darkness where everything was at rest now.

I looked around. Not a soul.

OOOOOHHHH, I shouted.

Then I walked to the totem pole and examined it, thought of the continent where it originated, the Indians who had once lived there knowing nothing of us, us knowing nothing of them. It was such an incredible thought, the freedom of not knowing, just living, believing they were the only humans alive, their surroundings the only world.

I saw her in front of me and a wave of happiness and sorrow rose within me.

How was this going to turn out?

How was it going to turn out?

On my return I waited for another hour before ringing.

This time she answered.

‘Hi!’ she said. Her voice was warm and very near.

‘Thank you for last night,’ I said.

‘Likewise,’ she said. ‘My sister has been talking about you all day. I’ve just been out with her now.’

‘Say hello from me,’ I said.

‘Will do.’

Pause.

‘When mummy told me you’d rung I had to lie down on the floor,’ she said.

‘On the floor?’

‘Yes, I had such pains in my stomach.’

‘Hm,’ I said.

Pause.

‘I was wondering … actually … well … if …’ I said.

‘What were you wondering?’

‘If you … or we, erm … or, well, if you’d like to meet me again. And go out or something?’

‘Yes.’

‘Yes?’

‘Yes.’

‘Just a cup of coffee or something,’ I said. ‘But not at the radio station. Nor in the canteen, nor in Grillen. Nor in Café Opera.’

She laughed.

‘Wessel?’

‘OK, shall we say Wessel? Tomorrow?’

The following day there was a meeting in the Social Affairs section. I had forgotten about it, but of course she would have to go.

Her gaze brushed me as she arrived, no more than that, and she seemed to be smiling to herself, otherwise we didn’t exchange a word, it was as if I didn’t exist.

I looked through the window of the conference room, there they sat talking and gesturing without a sound. She looked up at me, flashed a quick smile, looked away.

What did that mean?

Tore came down the corridor.

‘How’s it going, Karl?’ he said.

‘I’m up to my bloody ears in love,’ I said. ‘My body hurts. My joints. My joints ache. ’

He laughed.

‘I saw you two days ago. You didn’t say anything.’

‘Course I didn’t. It happened the day before yesterday.’

‘This is like being at infants school,’ he said. ‘Have you asked her out?’

‘No.’

‘Tell me who it is and I can ask her.’

‘It’s Tonje.’

‘Tonje? Student Radio Tonje?’

‘Yes.’

‘Her sitting in there?’

‘Yes.’

‘Does she know?’

I shook my head.

He laughed again.

‘She probably has an inkling,’ I said. ‘We’re meeting afterwards. I rang last night. Come on, let’s go. Fancy a coffee in the canteen?’

I hadn’t eaten all day, and I couldn’t get anything down at home either, I wasn’t interested and food didn’t seem necessary. I was burning up.

For the two hours I had to wait before I could leave I wandered around, lay down on my bed, stared at the ceiling, got up and paced to and fro. It was terrible, I was so high that all I could possibly expect now was a fall.

What would I talk about?

It wouldn’t work, I was somewhere else now, I would sit and fidget and blush and be a total idiot, I knew myself so well.

I didn’t have a mirror in my flat, in that way I was able to avoid having to look at myself, but now it felt as if I urgently needed one, so after changing and putting gel in my hair, I turned over a CD and held it in front of me from several different angles.

I locked the door behind me and went out.

I had pains in my stomach.

This was no fun.

Just painful, all of it.

The snow shone in the streets around me as I walked up the gentle incline to the little kiosk beside the swimming pool, past the theatre and Café Opera, round the corner and into Wesselstuen.

She wasn’t there, and I thanked the Lord, now I would have a few minutes to myself. I found a table and sat down, told the waiter who came over that I was waiting for someone.

She arrived ten minutes later. I trembled when I saw her. She was carrying lots of bags, leaned them against the wall and took off her coat, then sat down, somehow she had brought with her everything that existed out there, the street lamps and the shop windows, the crowds and the snow, it was all part of her aura, the same way a cat brings the forest and the darkness indoors when it comes into the house in the morning.

‘I’ve been buying Christmas presents,’ she said. ‘Sorry I’m late.’

‘No problem,’ I said.

‘Have you ordered?’

‘No. What would you like?’

‘A beer maybe.’

Soon after, we were sitting with our beers in front of us on the table. The room was full, there was a great atmosphere, the last Christmas dinners were being eaten, around us sat men in 1980s suits and women in dresses with broad shoulders and plunging necklines shouting skål and laughing. We were the only ones not saying anything.

I could have said she was a star, a shining light, my sun. I could have said I longed for her so much I was making myself ill. I could have said I had never experienced anything like this in my entire life, and I had experienced a lot. I could have said I wanted to be with her for ever.

But I didn’t.

I looked at her and smiled gently. She smiled back, gently.

‘You’ve got such unbelievably beautiful ears,’ I said.

She smiled and looked down at the table.

‘Do you think so?’ she said. ‘I’ve never heard that before!’

What had I said?

That she had beautiful ears?

It was true, her ears were unusually well formed, but so was her neck, and her lips, and her hands, small and pale, and her eyes. Complimenting a woman on her ears, that was crazy.

I blushed to the roots of my hair.

‘I suddenly noticed,’ I said. ‘And so I said it. I know it sounds a bit strange. But it’s true! You do have beautiful ears!’

The explanation just made things worse.

I took a long swig.

‘You’ve got a nice sister anyway,’ I said.

Anyway?

‘I’ll tell her you said that,’ Tonje said. ‘She thought it was very exciting having you there. She’s at that age. She doesn’t really know what it is, but maybe she thinks she does. And she absorbs everything she sees.’