“Yeah, when teenagers come in here they want to try on everything, but then nothing fits anyway!”
So we will never go there again.
Then we went to see a housewife film at Fågel Blå. When we came out again, I said:
“Guess what I am going to do on Saturday?”
“Well, what then? Come here and walk, possibly?”
“No, I’m going to smash a shop window or set fire to a house or strip naked in the street.”
“Really?” Kicki said. “Why?”
“Because I want to.”
“Yes, but then a police officer may come and arrest you.”
“Well, let him come,” I said. “I don’t care.”
Thursday, 5 March 1963
Today when E-L and I were at Tempo having coffee we talked about what we are going to do in the summer when school is out. I’m supposed to be in the country with mamma and papa and work part time. E-L is also going to work this summer, I presume. But if we could afford it we would set off and go camping. We would hitch hike in Sweden and look around. Sunbathing and swimming during the day and be on the spree in some town in the evening. I really would like to do that sometime, because it would be bloody nice! Just to do what came naturally and not know from one day to the next what might happen. It wouldn’t have to be very expensive, either, if we hitch hiked and slept in a tent. In that case, we would only have to pay for food. But mamma and papa wouldn’t be happy if I just went away. Why must you have parents who hinder you from everything? E-L presumably wouldn’t care about her parent’s reaction, but I, who have a little better contact with mine, probably couldn’t do it. Sometimes, mamma drives me so crazy that I wish her further away, but I understand that she would worry if I just set off.
On Saturday I would have preferred being alone in town in case the cop would come again, but I couldn’t tell Kicki, so it was as usual.
First we went with two idiots in a Volvo Amazon without bumpers and then with some others in a Citroën. The cutest guy wanted to be with Kicki, and I couldn’t stand the other one, so I was put in a bad mood and wanted to hop out again. Everything felt like a waste of time. When we drove around town I just sat there and kept a look-out for the policeman the whole time, even though I knew I wouldn’t see him. Why can’t I forget him?
Yesterday I was out on my own. I didn’t feel like going with anybody so I just walked around. In front of Wolrath’s Hardware Store a middle-aged man in a Morris started to edge along beside me.
“Do you want to ride?” he said through the window.
I just continued walking without taking any notice of him, but he kept rolling the car after me.
“Stop a minute,” he said.
“Why?”
“So that I can talk with you.”
“But we don’t have anything to talk about!”
“Do you want to ride?”
“What do you mean by ride?”
“Ride in my car!”
When I made a sharp turn, he stopped and put the car into reverse.
“Do you want to go to the Paletten then?” he said.
“Get lost!” I shouted. “I don’t want anything!”
Then he finally rode off. What the hell was he thinking? That I was a hooker? I can’t stand such disgusting old men who think that you want to be with them! I feel like I could puke just thinking of one of them starting to paw me.
I didn’t see him. Once a police car went by, but he wasn’t sitting in it. Finally, I rode with a guy who said he once had played in a band, and he gave me a lift home.
I dreamed that I was chased by two policemen. When they almost had caught me, they stopped running so I could get away. I felt sad when I woke up.
I can’t stop thinking about him. When I am in town I can’t resist looking for him, and as soon as I see a policeman I feel a thrill in my stomach. I wonder about how they work. They can perhaps change their beats, so he isn’t here anymore. I will probably never see him again.
In math lesson Holmberg told us about two girls in another class whom he had seen talking with some guys in a raggarbil, and then he went into a long lecture about what can happen to girls who land in bad company. When he said that about raggarbilen, Siv and Kerstin turned around and looked at me.
I wonder what he would say if he knew what Kicki and I usually do. Nothing, I suppose, because he only cares about girls with nice curves and big tits like Maud and Agneta. He doesn’t get anything. When he sees me dressed in a pleated terylene skirt and low heeled shoes, he thinks I am a pleasant little family girl who sits at home and does her homework and watches TV every evening. And he wouldn’t get it if I came to school in a tight skirt and high heels, either.
Friday, 13 March 1964
When I came home from school I was rather happy, but as soon as I got sight of mamma I became surly. Sometimes I can scarcely stand looking at her. At the same time, I feel guilty, because mostly she hasn’t done anything. I have a hang up about her ways. I think she is too weak in her dealings with papa. Everything would be much better if she were stronger. Then we wouldn’t have any problems with papa, because he needs someone who is strong and can help him. I hate when he drinks, but otherwise I almost like him better than mamma. That’s why I feel so disappointed when he comes home drunk. If I didn’t like him for the rest, I wouldn’t care as much as I do. But it will be bloody nice when I can move away from home! I remember when Anita left. She was seventeen and I was nine. Papa had messed with her and been really dumb, so the next day she left to find out if there were any rooms for rent, and then she came home and told us that she was moving. Papa didn’t say anything at all and had no objections. Later he visited her where she lived, and suddenly he treated her with respect and thought she had guts in her when she hadn’t tolerated to be badly treated anymore.
But before you can move you must have money, and to have money you must have a job. So at the earliest it will take two and a half years before I can get something on my own. But I’m going to do that as soon as possible. E-L and I will possibly rent something together.
Sunday, 15 March 1964
We cruised with two guys who were called Uffe and Kjell, and against the odds I got Uffe, who was the best (and rather handsome). He offered me a Pall Mall, which he had in a neat cigarette leather case with a zipper at the bottom. (You open the pack of cigarettes in one corner and put it in the case and close it, and then you move the leather cap to the side exactly where the pack is opened and smack a cigarette out.) He was 19 years old and worked for Kärne’s Electrical Store. After a few runs around town we went to an apartment on Apelgatan. We listened to music and danced (at least Uffe and I did) and then there was a little lying on a bed also. And I had taken a fancy to him and didn’t mind some petting, but I got very red and irritated on my face because of his beard stubble.
There has been a fire at the YCWA. In the newspaper it says that they suspect arson, but this has not been confirmed. On the outside it’s mostly the roof that is damaged.
During lunch break I saw two cops on Forumtorget. They walked side by side with hands behind their backs and they had watch caps and white gloves on. The swords, or whatever they are called, dangled as they walked along. My heart began to beat harder, and I could almost not breathe when they came nearer. I don’t know why I become that way. Why can’t I just be as usual?
Thursday, 19 March 1964
It was in the newspaper about “A Midsummer Night’s Dream” which we were invited to go and see in the assembly hall. It got good reviews and I agree that they acted well. I seems fun with the theater, but I would never be able to handle it, me with my hoarse voice and shaky hands. I am really hindered by this. And what’s the cause? When I went to elementary school it was not a problem. It began when I came to the girls’ school. Everything is the girls’ schools’ fault! Or if it is puberty’s.
I have been to the library and borrowed some books. I loaned “The Emigrants” by Vilhelm Moberg and “The Song of th
e Red Ruby” by Agnar Mykle. There are parts of that book that are supposed to be really interesting, I’ve heard, but I haven’t started it yet.
Just now I am reading the serial story in Hemmets Veckotidning. Mamma is the one who buys it, but I usually read it too. I also buy Bildjournalen sometimes, because in that magazine there is a lot for teenagers, but one krona here and one krona there becomes money, so I can’t do it very often.
I usually borrow books from Stig and Anita also when I visit them. They have mostly detective novels, because that’s what both of them like. (Agatha Christie, Maria Lang and Stieg Trenter.) And Anita has “Child 312”, which I read when I was younger and thought was great. And the books about Angelique, but I’m not very keen on those. E-L reads mostly detective novels as well, and she digs novels like “491” and “Chance” which are about youth with problems.
Friday, 20 March 1964
Today we had a full-day test in Swedish. When we write for an entire or half day we can have food and beverages with us. No, but fruit and candy and a Sunkist possibly. I had a banana, an apple and a box of Tenor. E-L had a Nickel. Nickel is what we usually buy when we go to the movies also, because those candies last a long time.
Yes, and so you have to put something together. It’s so difficult with an essay, because I never seem to get started. E-L starts writing immediately, and I feel pressured by that also, because you can leave when you have finished writing, and therefore you want to be done as soon as possible, so that you can use the time for something more fun. (Like going to Café Regent and having coffee, for example.)
So it is a bit trying with Swedish. It’s better when it is other subjects. In foreign languages it’s usually a two-part written exercise where you are required, for example, to translate from English to Swedish and then from Swedish to English and possibly to write a little bit on your own, also. Such written exercises are ok with me. But why on earth is it so difficult for me to get started when we are supposed to write an essay? And why don’t I just write a subject report instead? After all, it’s almost always possible to write a subject report also. It’s because I don’t think I’m able to, I suppose. But there are those who go in for the subject reports. They study really hard before the test and do well in both Swedish and the subject they have written on. That’s smart, I think. That’s something I could also do, since it is a little sluggish for me to fantasize for an essay.
I didn’t take the bus home from school. I walked instead, and then I saw a cop car approach from the oncoming direction. It was on the outskirts of town, at the place where the sidewalks end, and I was just about to go over to the right side of the road when I saw the car coming. Shit! I thought and decided to walk a little slower so that they would pass me before I crossed over. There were two cops in the front seat and the one on my side stared like hell as they drove by. I pretended not to notice it and continued to walk in the usual manner, and then I stopped to cross over. But they had done a U-turn on the road and were on their way back. I was unable to do anything before the car had stopped and a uniformed cop climbed out, went around the car and came up to me.
“Hello, where are you going?” he said.
It was him.
“Home,” I said.
“And where have you been?”
“In town.”
“And what did you do there?”
“Went to school and shopped.”
“What did you buy?”
“An eyebrow pencil, stockings and envelopes!”
What business of his was it what I had bought? I don’t understand why he asked, either, because that could hardly interest him.
“Now I remember you,” he said. “Did you follow my advice and go away from there?”
Away from Radiohörnan, he meant.
“No.”
It was so frigging embarrassing. I felt that he was staring at me the whole time, and I didn’t know in which direction I should look.
“Do your feet hurt?” he said.
“No, why?”
“I thought you were walking a bit badly.”
“I see.”
And that was all. He went back and sat in the car and they drove away. I didn’t know what to do. I went over to the other side of the street, and when I had walked along a bit they had turned around again and were on their way back. He waved when they drove by, but I pretended not to see it.
I wish they hadn’t come. He still didn’t mean anything. He was just doing his job. But what cause had he to stop me when I was just walking on the street? And was it true that he didn’t recognize me before they had stopped? He is perhaps screwy. He might enjoy what he sees sometimes when he opens car doors. He perhaps gets excited by it and wishes he could be lying there himself with the girls he thinks he wants to save. He is maybe a frigging dirty old man.
While walking, I fantasized about what would have happened if I had begun to run as soon as I got sight of the cop car. Would they have come running after me then? Would they have slammed on the brakes, thrown themselves out of the car and tried to get their hands on me? If I had done something criminal, perhaps, but not otherwise. I don’t know. Anyway, I imagined that they did it, and when they managed to catch me, they got ahold of me and dragged me back to the patrol car. I resisted and tried to get away, but they didn’t loosen their grip.
These are almost the same fantasies I used to have about Holmberg. But I didn’t think that he would chase me.
“491” has been released and is playing at both Skandia and Röda Kvarn cinemas now, but they have increased the age limit to eighteen years, so Kicki and I cannot see it. We thought about going to a nighttime matinee instead, to see “Wild Youth”, but nothing came of it.
Everything is so complicated. I don’t know what to do. Why can’t I forget that cop so that everything will be normal again? I just go around looking for him all the time, and whenever I see a cop car I feel weird. I haven’t told Kicki about it, because it seems so crazy to go around thinking of a policeman. I’m ashamed of it. But it isn’t the same kind of interest that I take in guys. I just wish he would come and do something so that I get to feel that excitement.
Yesterday evening when we were walking on Svartbäcksgatan we met Inger and Gunilla, who are in our class.
“Well, hi!” Inger said and acted surprised. “We really weren’t expecting to bump into you here! Are you going to the movies?”
“No, we aren’t,” Kicki said.
And Inger knew that. They both knew why we were there and what we were going to do.
“Where are you going then?” Kicki said.
“To my home,” Inger said.
Then it was silent for a while until some guys in a car drove by and shouted something.
“That you dare walk here!” Gunilla said. “I would never dare walk here alone!”
“You wouldn’t?” I said.
“No, not with all these terrible raggare who drive here!”
Inger laughed and they exchanged meaning looks.
“Well, have a great time!” Inger said sarcastically. We’ll see you at school!”
And then they left. When they were out of earshot Kicki said:
“I would never dare walk here alone! Some big, bad raggare could come and take me! My God, how terrible!”
Then we rode with two guys in a Volvo Amazon. When they asked us our names, I said Chris and Liz, because I was already regretting that we had gone with them. But they went away to Skarholmen, and when we had changed places, the usual happened. His hair cream smeared me so I got a greasy face.
“How was yours?” Kicki asked when we were back in town again.
“Messy,” I said. “First he messed with me and then his hair cream made a mess all over me. How was yours?”
“Excessively interested in the lower regions.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yes, but he didn’t get paid for it.”
At Sieverth’s Music Store we crossed the street to catch the cars coming from b
ehind, and then we started to walk along the street again. There were loads of people we knew out. Finally, we rode with two guys in a Ford.
Tuesday, 24 March 1964
On “Kvällstoppen” it was 1) “All My Loving” 2) “Surfin’ Bird” 3) “Bonnie B”. Up to fifteenth place from nineteenth was “Anyone Who Had a Heart” by Cilla Black. (“Anyone who had a heart would take me in his arms and love me true”.)
Love is, I think, the same thing as friendship, except that you have physical intimacy also. The one I love should be my best friend, and I should be his. I want us to be so close that we understand each other almost without words. If we just look into each other’s eyes, we will know everything. It would feel like finally coming home.
Regarding appearance, I don’t have any special requirements. I’m most attracted to dark haired boys, but it’s of no final importance what they look like. Well, I must of course like the way he looks, but I think that you do that automatically when you are in love. And if you are not in love, it doesn’t matter how handsome he is, because in that case you still can’t be together with him.
Svartbäcksgatan is going to become a pedestrian street only, it says in the newspaper today. Why do they have to destroy everything? First it’s Järnbron, which we are no longer allowed to use, and now it’s Svartbäcksgatan.
Last night I dreamed that I was arrested by the police in front of Hennes. A cop car braked to a stop, and two policemen jumped out and ran up to me and grabbed me and threw me into the patrol car. When I saw them coming, I didn’t run, and when they took me I didn’t resist, because if I did, I was afraid that they would let me get away.
Hop in Then! Page 5