The Birds by Tarjei Vesaas

suns, sitting here in the boat. No one but Mattis went fishing on a day like this. The lake was calm as a mill pond.
    But as far as that goes—
    You can catch a fish when you least expect it, thought Mattis. So it isn’t me who’s being stupid this time.
    His thoughts went back to a conversation he had had with Hege just before he climbed into the boat: “You think they’re laughing at you when they’re not doing anything of the kind.”
    Yes, that’s what Hege had said. It came back to him now as he sat looking at all the farms. He tried to think of someone who really wanted to hurt him and who made fun of him. But apart from children who were always a nuisance he couldn’t point to a single one. They called him names behind his back, but people were like that. He found it all rather confusing.
    Glug, the water said, and it began running into his shoes. He had to start bailing hurriedly.
    I mustn’t think so much that I sink to the bottom, he said, bailing so fiercely that the water gushed over the side in a torrent. If I just think, the boat’ll soon get full and I’ll be drowned. I’d better do my thinking on dry land.
    But he was soon deep in thought again, there was no stopping it. The fish weren’t biting either. He had plenty of time.
    His thoughts wandered back to days and events long past. Most of them were shrouded in a kind of mist. It was his father who hadbeen the breadwinner when he was a child. His father was like Hege, small and untiring. Clever, too. Everyone was clever except him. As far back as he could remember there’d been trouble every time he’d tried to do any work. His father had given up. His mother had gazed at him as though she would never stop hoping for a change. Then she had died, before he was fully grown up. Only a few years later his father had been killed in an accident at work. It filled Mattis with horror every time he thought of it.
    After that it had been just Hege and him. Things had gone on much as they did now for many years. He had no idea when he had first been called Simple Simon – but he saw it as a grim turning point in his life.
    He looked across the shore, telling himself that no one wanted to hurt him. He thanked Hege for what she had said, and tried to hammer it in.
    Then he was back bailing again. There was a quiet persistence about the water that was trying to drown him.
    I want to live, I don’t want to be drowned!
    If only he could catch a really big fish. Come home to Hege with a really big one.
    The fish lay like thin, delicate shadows on the sandy shallows where his boat was bobbling and drifting about. They lay there idle, with nothing to do, just like Mattis himself. But terribly alert.If Mattis as much as moved his hand the fish shot off into the dark depths below. They weren’t biting. Fishes were clever. Cleverness any way you turned.
    And then there’s Hege, he thought suddenly.
    Something wrong with Hege.
    He hadn’t intended to let this worry him out here on the lake, but there was no escaping it: last night had been a bad night as far as Hege was concerned. That was why she’d sent him out on to the lake first thing in the morning.
    He had woken up at midnight, and had heard something he didn’t like the sound of. It was coming from Hege’s room, and he tiptoed across and peeped in. He could just see Hege lying with her face turned to the wall. He’d switched on the light, but she hadn’t stirred.
    Feelings of guilt had swept over him – if Hege was upset it was bound to be because of him.
    “Is it me again?” he’d asked gently from over by the door.
    She’d answered without turning round: “No, it isn’t you.”
    “Who is it, then?”
    “No one,” she’d said. “I just don’t know why I’m alive.”
    As she spoke she’d turned round, fixing him with a wild stare. This was worse than he’d imagined, he was face to face withproblems that went completely beyond his understanding. Hege went on: “I get nothing out of