Karl Knausgaard - Some Rain Must Fall

He could also burst into laughter for no apparent reason.

‘Ha, ha, ha, ha!’ he might go, as if he had heard a joke and wanted to reward whoever had told it.

‘Have you got a girlfriend then?’ he said.

‘Yes,’ I said.

‘What’s her name then?’

‘Gunvor.’

‘Is she nice then?’

‘Egil,’ Ellen said.

‘Are you going for a swim today then?’ he said, looking at her.

‘No,’ she said.

‘Why not?’ he said.

‘The weather’s not so good today,’ she said.

‘Why?’ he said with a heavy sigh and sank back into his chair. All his questions had been mechanical, without a trace of any curiosity in his voice. He was like a child who has learned something off by heart but without understanding what it meant.

‘Was that good, Håkon?’ Ellen said.

‘Yes,’ Håkon mumbled from a lowered chin. ‘Thank you very much. Thank you very much.’

Ellen was sitting beside Are and feeding him. He half-lay in his chair with his mouth open. Porridge trickled down from the corners. Kåre often emitted tiny sounds, he obviously couldn’t speak, but he communicated with sounds, gestures and looks. Ørnulf sat rocking in his chair baring his teeth and staring at me.

‘Are we friends?’ Egil said. ‘Us two. Are we friends?’

What was I supposed to say to that? We obviously weren’t friends. But to say no might create a terrible agitation in him.

‘Yes, we are, aren’t we?’ I said.

‘Then you can come and see my pictures of the king,’ he said.

‘OK, I’d like that,’ I said.

‘Good,’ he said. ‘That’s a deal.’

The door to the corridor opened and Hans Olav ran out. He looked behind him with a laugh, his hands under his chin, his mouth in constant motion, and set off at full speed down the corridor, staggering beneath his heavy body. Ove started after him with a tray in his hands. The similarity with Picasso was disturbing, it upset the whole balance of the world, I thought. But the others didn’t seem bothered and I supposed I would probably get used to it, given time.

‘If you clear up after us, Karl Ove, I’ll take the boys to the workshop.’

I nodded.

The four who were going to work got up and went to their rooms. Ørnulf swung down from his chair and occupied his customary position in the corridor. Ellen wiped Are’s mouth and trundled him into his room. I put the food into the fridge, the plates and glasses into the dishwasher, wiped the tables clean with a cloth and swept the floor with a dustpan and brush.

After finishing I went to see Ellen. She was washing Are, he was lying naked on the bed, rigid and white, she ran the cloth over him while making small talk. There we are, she said, it’s important to wash down here, you know. Now I’ll pour a bit more water on, it’s nice and warm.

He stared at the ceiling with vacant eyes.

‘Is there anything I can do?’ I said.

She peered at me through her thick lenses.

‘Nope,’ she said. ‘Sit down and have a cup of coffee while you’re waiting. He’s had constipation for a few days now, so I was thinking of administering an enema later. You could give me a hand with that.’

‘OK,’ I said.

‘Otherwise you could go for a walk with Ørnulf this morning. Just round and about.’

I nodded, she wrung the cloth and continued washing Are.

On one thigh and buttock he had a large scarred area.

‘What’s that?’ I said. ‘Is it a birthmark or what?’

She shook her head.

‘It’s a burn. Someone left him in front of a fan heater. Happened many years ago now.’

‘Is that true?’

‘Unfortunately. He can’t move, you know. And he never says anything. So he just lies there.’

‘How awful,’ I said.

‘Yes,’ she said. ‘But it’s a long time ago. His unit is closed down now. He’s got his own flat — the new reform, you know. But until it’s fully finished he’s here with us. Aren’t you, Are?’

Not a single expression crossed his face as she talked. I hung around so as not to seem unsympathetic, then I went into the duty room and poured myself a coffee. From the corridor I heard the sound of hands smacking and clothes rubbing against the floor. It was Ørnulf, he stopped by the table and sent me an imploring look. It must have been the sound of the coffee jug that had spurred him into action.

‘Do you want some coffee?’ I said.

Without batting an eyelid, he took a cup and raised it towards me.

‘You had a cup for breakfast,’ I said. ‘That’ll have to do.’

I started rolling a cigarette. For a long time he sat in exactly the same position with his cup held out. Then, as if a spell had been broken, as though the hundred-year sleep was over, he suddenly put it down and began to hyperventilate.

‘I think it’s best if you sit in the corridor,’ I said. ‘Then we two can go for a walk afterwards.’

Was that contempt in his eyes?

At any rate he didn’t budge.

I ran my tongue over the glue, stuck the edge to the paper, put the cigarette in my mouth and lit up. A protruding flake of tobacco burned up at once and fell glowing to the floor, the rest caught the next moment and I inhaled a cloud of smoke into my lungs as I looked out of the window in the balcony door. A group of three carers, each pushing a wheelchair, was coming towards us. A car parked in front of the admin block at the other end. From the floor beneath came a protracted roar, a sound that was hard to associate with anything human, while Ørnulf sucked and hissed only half a metre away from me.

I turned back towards him.

He immediately took the cup and held it up to me, begging.

‘No,’ I said.

He continued to hold it outstretched, this was another hundred-year sleep.

‘Do you want some coffee, Ørnulf?’ Ellen said as she came in the door. ‘Here, I’ll give you some.’

She took his cup, filled it with equal parts of coffee and milk, he gulped it down and then dragged himself out of the room and across the corridor. Ellen sighed and sat down on the sofa on the other side of the table, lit a cigarette and closed her eyes.

I sorted through the residents in my head. There were seven in the ward. Four of them looked more or less normal, and of them two could speak. Two were badly deformed but could move, one was a vegetable. By mentally handicapped I had imagined some Down’s syndrome residents and some vegetables. I hadn’t known that every shade in between existed, but of course it was obvious and was no surprise to me once I had seen them.

Outside Hans Olav and Ove came walking along the road.

‘Where’s Are now?’ I said.

‘He’s in bed in his room,’ Ellen said. ‘I’ll get him up soon and we’ll go for a walk.’

‘Is he asleep?’

‘No, no. He just lounges around in bed.’

The roars from the ground floor resounded again. From the corridor I could hear Ørnulf’s hissing. Otherwise there was silence. I was dreading the walk with Ørnulf. It would be the first time I had been alone with one of them and I knew nothing about how to behave, what I would say to him, what might happen. What would I do if he wanted to go to the loo? Could he go himself or did he need help? Should I lift him into his wheelchair or could he manage by himself? Could he get dressed? Should I push the wheelchair? Where would we go? He couldn’t talk, what if I didn’t understand what he wanted?

On top of all that, I was afraid. The look he had sent me was filled with hatred, and his room had no furniture or objects, only a mattress, because he either smashed everything that came into his path or tore it to pieces, so Ove had said.

What would I do if he had a similar fit when we were outside? Would I be able to stop him? And what if he attacked me? Of course he didn’t have any legs, but his biceps were strong.