The Birds Read Free

sweater took shape, unaided.
    “Well?” she said, seeing him come out in such a hurry.
    Mattis pointed to his mop of hair:
    “Not a single gray hair on me, Hege. I’ve been inside and looked in the mirror.”
    Hege didn’t want to discuss the subject again.
    “I see,” she said curtly.
    “Isn’t it splendid?” he asked.
    “Of course it’s splendid,” she replied calmly.
    “Yes, just look at you,” he said, “I bet you wish—”
    “Uff!”
    He stopped at once. There was something about Hege that pulled him up short.
    “What’s wrong?” he asked, frightened.
    At last she got up.
    “Mattis.”
    He looked at her, nervously.
    “Well, go on.”
    “I don’t think it’s much fun, the way you’re going on and on about this tonight.”
    “Fun? Do we have fun?” he replied. What an odd thing for her to say, he thought.
    Hege looked at him helplessly. Frightened all of a sudden. Something had to be done quickly, for Mattis was on the point of starting something she couldn’t cope with.
    “We have more fun than you realize,” she said firmly, driving the point home like a nail. “It’s just that you don’t give it a thought. We have fun every single day!”
    He bent his head, but asked: “When?”
    “When?” she said, sternly.
    She went on again. This had to be stopped.
    “Use your brains, Mattis,” she said, forgetting the usual sting. Stood above him, insistent, although she was shorter.
    Mattis replied: “I’m thinking so hard it’s almost killing me.”
    “Then surely you remember lots of fun.”
    He thought, gave no reply.
    Hege persisted. The fact had to be established so firmly that there was no room left for the slightest doubt.
    “We have more fun than other people!”
    “Do we really?” He started mumbling feebly, almost inaudibly.
    “Yes!” she said. “And you must never forget it.”
    She left it at that. Mattis straightened up a little, but dared not protest. Hege was clever and no doubt knew what things were fun. Best not to protest and make a fool of oneself.
    She looked at him angrily.
    “I didn’t realize this,” was all he said.
    Then a bright idea suddenly struck him, and he said in a happy voice: “It was a good thing you told me.”
    “What?”
    “Since I didn’t know.”
    He felt happy, laughed a little.
    “Are you going in already?” he said.
    Hege gave him a weary nod instead of answering and went into the house.

4
    HEGE WENT to bed earlier than usual that evening, too. At least she went into her room earlier. Mattis was about to ask why, but before he managed to do so she stopped him with an impatient: “Oh wait until tomorrow, Mattis! Please, dear you, let this be enough for today.”
    Listening to her, he lost the desire to ask any more questions. She was in a bad mood, she could go. He wondered if he’d done anything wrong. The business of her hair, no doubt. Was it so dreadful that her hair was gray while his wasn’t? After all, he couldn’t help it.
    But it was Hege who fed him, so she had him well in her grip. Above all she was clever, and that was what he respected most.
    Hege left him without saying another word. He stayed behind thinking about it all.
    Tomorrow I must take a trip around the farms and see if anybody’s got any work for me, he thought, dreading it already.
    Because that’s the root of the trouble. Hege feeds me all year round. And so she has for forty years, he felt he might as well add. At least he wouldn’t be making it out to be less than it actually was.
    Feeds me. Feeds me.
    The word had a bitter taste. It was like chewing the bark of an aspen tree.
    And chew it he had to, year in, year out. Sitting alone as he was now. He had to put it on his tongue and taste it. There was no escape. It was the bitterest of all the words he knew.
    Tomorrow I’m going to work.
    Provided nothing stops me, he added quickly, to be on the safe side.
    He had a hazy recollection of the many days when he’d started working for somebody. On a