A Burnt Child: A Novel

A Tiger and a Gazelle

164 A TIGER AND A GAZELLE the sea is high and green during the day and black with flashes of white at night. But the water is clear as it usually is in fall. The six broadleaf trees around the inlet are shedding their leaves, which blow freshly onto the porch every morning. At night, the cool September moon gleams red. When it drifts out of the night’s dark clouds it has blood on its lips. The sailboat season is over, and now colliers sway sluggishly along the horizon. Their smoke sinks black and heavily into the sea. Twice a week a train of barges drifts across the bay, and during that hour Bengt and Gun stay inside, thinking that someone might see them. When they kiss each other, their lips taste like salt. In fact, wherever they put their lips tastes like salt. So after ten days they know the taste of salt all too well. They stay on the island for two weeks. And during that time they only see each other and no one else. Sometimes they might see people on the barges, but it’s from several hundred feet away. No faces, just black shadows huddled up against the rudders—maybe only smoke from the pipes. Though this is true, they also see the dog. At first he hates the dog, but after the first week he is happy to have it along. But eventually he starts to hate it again. 165 A Tiger and a Gazelle The first few days are probably the best, the days before they really know each other. It’s harder when they get to know each other , because it’s hard to love the one we know really well. To be in love is to be curious. Therefore, only what we aren’t accustomed to is beautiful. And maybe only that which is new is beautiful. In any case, we’re only capable of loving what is new. So in order to love someone we know well, it’s necessary to forget her first, not entirely but significantly. This is what they learn in fourteen days. But they don’t admit it to each other. They are cautious and even untruthful. To be able to love someone for long, you have to lie, largely to yourself but mostly to the one you love. One form of lying is refinement, and soon they are also refined. They give each other new names, find new places to kiss, new places to fall asleep. It makes them happy for a while, but it cannot hide the truth, so they find other ways to hide it. One way to prolong their love is to combine it with hate; this is the best way but perhaps also the most dangerous. Love and hate are the cat and mouse of emotions. Sometimes the cat chases the mouse, and sometimes the mouse chases the cat. But once the cat and mouse are both tired of the chase, there isn’t much else for them to do. The only thing left is to acknowledge the most painful truth of all, the most painful but also the most honest: that two people in love cannot be alone together on an island without falling out of love, that they cannot be an island. They need contact with the mainland. They need all the other people they know. It’s a horrible consolation for anyone who believes that love is an island in the sea, but once we weary of islands, it’s actually quite comforting. Because when a person grows tired of loving, he is relieved to find there are still so many people to love besides the one he has loved. The first few days are wonderful for them. The sun shines, there is a fresh breeze, and they are alone. They drink each other up, sleep, and rouse again. The dog often wakes them up, and when they put it outside, it barks in front of the door, slams its heavy body against it, and raps the doorknob with its paws. If the dog is inside, they jerk from their sleep, awakened from a dream about rain or some waves. The dog is hovering over them and licking their shoulders. 166 A Tiger and a Gazelle Gun pulls it down to her, lays it between them, and pets it. Bengt is a tad jealous of...