The Morning Star

by Karl Ove Knausgaard

  Fifty minutes before closing.

  I turned the music off and found the book we were going to read. The kids gathered around me, they sat close, some almost cuddled up to each other. The little ones didn’t distinguish much between their own bodies and others. Was there something animal-like about that? And about them generally, in fact? Their creeping and crawling, their wordless utterings and enigmatic eyes.

  “Can you remember what happened when we read yesterday?” I said.

  “Mia was having a bath,” said Kevin.

  “That’s right,” I said. “And today we’re going to read about her going on her summer holiday.”

  “We’ve been on summer holiday,” said Kevin.

  “Yes, you have,” I said. “I have too. Does anyone know what the season after summer is called?”

  “I think it’s autumn,” said Jo.

  “Autumn,” I said. “That’s right. But in the book it’s still summer!”

  A smell came from one of them. It had to be Liam, he was looking withdrawn all of a sudden, and his face was flushed.

  I reckoned it could wait a bit and began to read, turning the book and showing them the pictures every time I turned the page. The older ones grew restless after only a few minutes, fidgeting or looking around the room for something of interest. But the little ones were with me all the way.

  At the same moment I finished, the door opened and Saida poked her head round.

  “Everything all right in here?” she said.

  “Yes, fine. Maybe you could take them outside for a minute, though, so I can change Liam here,” I said, turning toward him. “All right, Liam?”

  He nodded silently and looked at me with his soft brown eyes.

  So while the older ones ran about in the yard, I put Liam down on the changing table in the bathroom.

  “One, two, three!” I said, and snatched off his socks.

  I’d expected him to laugh the way he normally did, but instead he started howling and kicking, and had soon worked himself into a frenzy.

  “All right, settle down,” I said, clamping his legs under my arm while I tried to get his shorts off him with my other hand. “What’s put you in such a bad mood all of a sudden? It’s a lovely sunny day, and your mummy will be here soon to collect you!”

  One of the other kids came in and sat down on the toilet in one of the open cubicles. It was Lillian. She dangled her legs and gave me a cheeky grin while Liam screamed.

  “Why is he angry?” she said.

  “I don’t know,” I said, and took my arm away from his legs. It was impossible to change him anyway for the time being.

  Lillian tore off a piece of toilet paper and wiped herself, pulled her underwear up and was just about to go out when I stopped her.

  “You’ve forgotten to wash your hands,” I said.

  “Oh, yes,” she said, and went over to the sink where she stood on the little plastic step stool to reach the tap.

  Liam was still yelling and kicking. I wondered, as Lillian went out again, whether to change him by force or lift him up and carry him around with me for a bit until he settled down, and then do it.

  I looked around for something that might distract him.

  My eyes latched on to a cuddly rabbit on the shelf above him. I offered it to him, only he batted it out of my hand.

  A proper rage he was in.

  “I’m going to have to change you anyway, Liam,” I said. “We’ll be done in no time, you’ll see.”

  I gripped his ankles in one hand and undid the ties of the diaper with the other. The poo inside was soft and yellow, smeared all over his thighs and buttocks. I lifted his legs and pulled the diaper away, rolled it up and dropped it in the diaper bin. Only then I realized the wet wipes were on the opposite shelf on the other side of the room.

  So there I stood, holding on tight to a screaming little boy with his bum all messy with poo.

  “Saida?” I called out. “Can you come and give me a hand?”

  But there was no answer.

  Either I could let go of him and dart across to get them—it wouldn’t take a second, and even if he was on his own on the changing table he wouldn’t be able to fall down from there before I was with him again—or else I could lift him up and carry him. But then I’d get poo on me, and poo on the changing table was definitely a better option than poo on my clothes.

  “I just need to get the wet wipes, Liam,” I said. “Just lie still a second, all right?”

  By some miracle, he stopped kicking.

  With my left hand outstretched and ready to stop him if he fell, I turned round, made a dart to the other side of the room and grabbed the packet off the shelf.

  It was empty.

  Who the hell left an empty packet there? Quickly, I opened the cupboard where the new ones were kept, snatched a packet and swiveled round just in time to see Liam wriggle over the edge of the changing table. I jumped across, but too late, and he fell to the floor.

  He hit his head first.

  His eyes were open as I bent over him, but totally vacant.

  He’s dead, was the first thing I thought.

  Oh, no, no.

  Then it was as if the part of him that was him came back, and he stared up at me.

  He was quite still.

  I picked him up and held him tight.

  “Are you all right?” I said. “Did you hurt yourself?”

  He wasn’t crying, not even a whimper.

  It’s lino, I told myself. It’s soft. And it’s a low table.

  Everything was all right.

  Not a mark on his head, as far as I could tell. Perhaps there’d be a bump after a bit.

  I put him down again carefully and began to wash him.

  But there was something different about him.

  He’ll be in shock, I thought, and wiped my T-shirt with a wet wipe before putting a clean diaper on him, then his shorts.

  Maybe he’d got a concussion?

  That was probably it.

  That was why he was different.

  I dropped the wet wipes in the bin, picked him up and went outside into the yard where the others were. No one had seen anything, and there was no reason to tell them. Nothing had happened.

  I put him down in the sandpit and went over to the others.

  Liam sat there staring into the air in front of him.

  He must still have been dazed.

  “You can go now if you want, Emil,” said Mercedes. “It’s such a gorgeous day!”

  “Thanks, that’s really nice of you,” I said.

  “Only because we like you,” she said, and laughed.

  A bit farther away, Frida’s mother came in through the gate, shoved her sunglasses on top of her head and waved at us, and behind her came Jo’s mother, pushing a bike.

  I told myself I’d better get going before Liam’s parents came, and got to my feet. If he was still just as quiet then, they might start asking if something had happened, and I didn’t feel like lying to them.

  “Hi, Emil,” Frida’s mother said. “Are you going out tonight?”

  “I was thinking about it,” I said. “How about you? Any plans?”

  She shrugged and smiled.

  “I’m sure we’ll think of something,” she said, crouching down as Frida came running up to her.

  “See you all, then,” I said, making sure everyone heard, and went out through the gate to where my bike was chained to the fence. I unlocked it, rolled it forward a few steps, got on and started to pedal at the same time as I pulled my phone out of my pocket and pressed Mathilde’s number.

  “Hi!” she said.

  “Are you in?” I said.

  “No, I’m at the park. I couldn’t stay in on a day like this. Are you off now, or what?”

  “Yes.�
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  “Are you going to come and join us, then?”

  “I’ve got rehearsal,” I said.

  “Not until seven, you haven’t,” she said. “Come on, I miss you.”

  “OK,” I said, pulling into the side and stopping for a second; the street ahead of me went steeply downhill and was cobbled besides. “Who are you with?”

  “Jorunn and Tuva,” she said.

  “OK,” I said again. “I’ll be there in ten or so.”

  “Brilliant!” she said.

  After I hung up I scrolled through the texts I’d got while I’d been at work. Both Trond and Frode wanted to know if we were going out after rehearsal, Dad was asking us to go out with him in the boat at the weekend, and Fredrik wanted to borrow some cash. He wasn’t exactly asking, but I knew it was what he was after.

  I called him up.

  “When are you going to pay me back, then?” I said.

  “What are you on about?” he said.

  “You want to borrow some money, don’t you?”

  “Not anymore, I don’t,” he said. “Not if you’re going to be so clever about it.”

  “You can, though,” I said. “Only I want it back. How much are we talking about?”

  “Five hundred, maybe?”

  “OK, no problem. Are you coming up?”

  “You’re not going down into town, by any chance?” he said.

  “I’m down there now.”

  “I meant later.”

  “Are you in?” I said.

  “Yes.”

  “Is Mum there?”

  “Why would she be? It’s only four o’clock.”

  “Just wondering. How’s she doing?”

  “All right, I reckon. You could give her a ring.”

  “I will do,” I said. “Anyway, catch you later.”

  “What about the money?”

  “Oh, I forgot,” I said. “I’ll be down at Verftet between seven and nine at least.”

  “Perfect,” he said. “See you then!”

  I hung up and replied to my texts, put my earphones in and found Ohia in my music before setting off down the hill. There were people out everywhere, on all the sidewalks and all the squares, the cafes and restaurants were packed.

  Ohia took the top off my high, balancing it out. Ohia’s world was dark and depressive, and especially beautiful in the light. Unnervingly beautiful.

  Not until I reached the road that ran along the Vågen harbor did the thought of Liam come back into my mind.

  A terrible feeling came over me.

  He could have injured himself seriously. Maybe he’d started vomiting. They wouldn’t understand why.

  Or blood might come out of his ears.

  Head injuries were dangerous.

  I should have told someone. I wouldn’t have to say he fell off the changing table, I could have just told them he fell as he was toddling along, fell against something hard, a hard surface. They’d know then, and could take him for a check-up if necessary.

  Now it was too late. I couldn’t just phone them and say, listen, your son fell down at nursery school today, I forgot to mention it.

  It hadn’t been my fault.

  The fault was not telling someone.

  But most probably he was fine. No cause for concern.

  I jumped off the bike and pushed it up the hill toward Sydneshaugen, cycled through the park and caught sight of the group on my way down the hill on the other side, they were sitting on the grass below, Mathilde easily picked out in her white bikini.

  I pulled up. She wasn’t only with Jorunn and Tuva like she’d said, there were three others with them as well. I recognized them, student friends of Tuva’s.

  Why hadn’t she said?

  It almost looked a bit lewd, three girls in bikinis, three fully clothed guys lounging in their company.

  I felt like turning round and heading home, phoning her to say I’d changed my mind.

  But there was every chance I’d already been seen. In which case I was going to look stupid.

  I pedaled the last bit and swung in to join them.

  “Hello, you!” Mathilde said, looking up at me without taking her sunglasses off.

  “So this is where you are, wasting the day away,” I said, and leaned my bike against a tree before bending down to give her a kiss.

  “I’ve got to go to work soon,” she said. “So you can’t be talking about me.”

  “How you doing? All right?” said one of the students.

  “Yeah, good,” I said.

  “You work in a nursery school, don’t you?”

  “That’s right,” I said, and sat down next to Mathilde. She was sitting with her legs tucked underneath her like a mermaid’s tail. Sunscreen, her flowery skirt, white top and sandals lay in a little pile behind her.

  “Do you want some wine?” one of the others said.

  “No, thanks, I’m on my bike,” I said.

  I could tell I’d spoiled it for them. They’d have to stop ogling her and chatting her up now.

  “I saw the priest again today,” Mathilde said.

  “What priest?” I said. “Oh, that’s right, the one who confirmed you.”

  Mathilde had been working behind a hotel reception desk for the summer. The previous morning she’d got home and told me the priest from her confirmation had checked into the hotel at half an hour’s notice. She hadn’t recognized Mathilde, and Mathilde hadn’t made herself known to her either, not wanting her to feel like she’d been sussed. Looks like marriage problems, if you ask me, she’d said. Why else would you check into a hotel in your own city? Maybe they’re decorating or something, I said, and she’d looked at me like I was thick. At half past twelve at night? I like to think the best of people, I said.

  “She came into the chemist’s in the shopping center while I was there,” she said now. “Have a guess what she bought?”

  I shook my head.

  “A pregnancy test! So something’s going on in her life by the looks of it.”

  “Priests can have kids too,” I said.

  “It is a bit odd, though, you’ve got to admit? She goes to a hotel in the middle of the night and then buys a pregnancy test the day after?”

  I didn’t like gossip, and hadn’t thought she did either.

  Fuck. Now I was getting negative again.

  It was a glorious day, everyone was out in the sun, and I was with Mathilde, who was gorgeous, cool and clever, everything I dreamed about in a girl, and I was even about to go off and rehearse with our band which was really starting to come together.

  Only here I was, misery guts, sulking underneath it all.

  I lifted my head and looked up at the crown of the tree above us, a torch of green held upright by an ingenious network of roots and branches, and then I looked at her, her pale skin that never tanned and was always cool to the touch, and she smiled at me.

  “Are you coming out with us later, Emil?” Jorunn said.

  “I don’t think so,” I said. “We’re rehearsing tonight and I’ve got an early start in the morning. But thanks all the same!”

  I longed to be on my own with her. We were always so good on our own together, and I never had so much fun as when I was out drinking with just her. But we couldn’t spend our lives in a bubble, I realized that.

  One thing I’d decided, I’d say yes without a moment’s hesitation if she ever started talking about kids. I wouldn’t bring it up myself, though. I didn’t want to frighten her off, kids were major, and we were so young. Besides, I was scared she wasn’t thinking so far ahead with us, that I was just a sort of youthful fling. If I started trying to tie her down, there was every chance she’d dump me.

  But we were living together and it hadn’t even been something we’d talked about, we just moved in with
each other as soon as the chance appeared.

  “Anyone fancy a game of pétanque?” one of the students asked. He was tall and lanky with a fringe that hung down over his eyes like a curtain. Every now and then he’d toss his head stupidly to get it out of the way. I seemed to remember his name was Atle.

  “Good idea,” his mate Anders said.

  “Have we got the energy?” Mathilde said.

  “Come on,” said Tuva, and got to her feet, bending down to pick up her skirt and put it on.

  I stood up too.

  “Think I’ll leave you to it,” I said. “Need to go home and get something to eat.”

  Mathilde put her arms around me and looked up at me.

  “See you in the morning, bright and early,” she said.

  I kissed her. Turning onto the road, I looked back and saw them going over to the sandy pétanque court, all of them together.

  * * *

  —

  An hour and a half later I was sitting at the back of the bus with my guitar beside me, listening to Fela Kuti. As I looked out of the window I tried to push all the houses and buildings into the background, foregrounding the trees and plants to see what the world would look like if they were what everything was about instead of us.

  It was something I’d started doing while I was still at gymnasium school and got the bus every day. I’d been a deputy in the Nature and Youth organization and passionate about the environment. I think it came from my art teacher who’d encouraged us when drawing to try and capture the space between the flowers and the leaves in a vase, for instance, or the space between the furniture in a room. Because it was something similar that happened with the trees, they seemed suddenly to step forward and become visible even though they’d been there all the time.

  I got off at Klosteret and turned down one of the lanes, then onto the road leading toward Verftet, following the fjord, its blue glaze, the sun glittering on it like little coins of light.

  I caught sight of Trond farther down the hill, dressed in black as ever, a carrier bag dangling from his wrist, that too a fixture. His drumsticks were in it, I knew that, and gaffer tape and drum keys and gloves, and almost definitely a bottle of Coke as well. I’d bought him a rucksack the Christmas before, but he hadn’t taken the hint.