It was wet in the morning. Otherwise everything was just as usual to begin with. Botolv was asleep; he too had finally managed to sleep. Per looked at him the minute he woke, and felt a stab of distress.

He hurried out of bed, looking timidly at Mother and Father. They showed nothing. Father ate and got ready, then went out to his digging. The ground was indeed sodden. His feet squished as he walked, and a thin haze of moisture rose up about his shoulders.

Mother gave Åsmund his breakfast. Today as yesterday. Åsmund woke up early. She showed nothing. Aunt Anne, who slept upstairs, had heard nothing in the night, so of course she was normal.

  [p. 61]  

But nobody besides himself had seen and felt Botolv last night.

Botolv slept later than usual. At last Mother went over and shook him. Per sat with his heart in his mouth. Botolv woke up and yawned a couple of times. Saw his mother above him. Per watched closely. Then Botolv remembered what had happened last night: he gave a start and remembered, looked about him, and got dressed.

Mother noticed it too.

"Are you sick, Botolv?" she asked.

"No."

"I think you are."

"No!"

Botolv had raised his voice in fear. Shortly afterwards he sat picking at his food. Per was paralyzed, incapable of helping him in any way.

It was terrible to watch Botolv all that long day. He sat on his stool as usual, picking at something, looking over at Per with eyes that knew. He blinked his eyes wildly, desperate for help. Then he got up from the stool and began following Mother wherever she went, trudging after her with his shoelaces undone and his socks falling down.

At last Mother, in despair and fear, said, "Whatever is the matter, Botolv?"

He did not reply, merely went on following her, not close to her, but if she went outside so did he; if she came indoors so did he. It was such torture for Per to watch that he did not know what to do with himself. Botolv's face was pale and taut and seemed even smaller than before---and his eyes much larger.

Mother looked around for relief from this situation, this tenacious following after her.

"Can't you tell me what you want?" she said. It was an agonized cry.

He looked up at her. No more. His face was still, his eyes tense.

"You must tell me, Botolv. What is it you want of me?"

  [p. 62]  

He only looked.

Per sat paralyzed.

Auntie tried. But Botolv had never bothered about her. Now he did not even see her. Father came home with muddied clothes, picked up Botolv in his clumsy way, and tried to get him to play as usual. But Botolv hit out at him---Botolv, who never hit anyone. Father became angry, muttered something, let him go, and went out again. Botolv began following Mother as before. Åsmund came toddling in and pulled at him, but he shook himself free with a whine.

Per did nothing, noticing only that the evening would come soon.

"For goodness' sake, Botolv!" said a harassed voice in the kitchen. Mother behaved as if pursued in her own kitchen, and he seemed to have no mercy, but kept following her.

It was bedtime. Father had come indoors. They were all afraid that Botolv would refuse to lie down and keep on walking all night. Per suddenly leaped at Botolv and dragged him across to the bed.

"Go to bed!" he said wildly.

"Yes," said Botolv and began to undress.

Mother came over to him, "Will you tell me before you go to sleep?" she begged.

"No," said Botolv from inside the bedclothes.

Per stood beside him, and Mother turned to him. "You keep him company then, Per." And she left, powerless to do anything.

Per lay down close to Botolv, frightened to death. Botolv lay with a slight quivering in him, and this quivering transferred itself to Per as soon as he felt it in his brother's body. He had to say his name; he could think of nothing else to say.

"Botolv."

Botolv lay still. The night was light. Botolv saw nothing with those eyes; they were merely open.

Mother came in after a while, without having undressed. She leaned over. Per smelled the odor of her body. She said, "Go to sleep now, Botolv, and I'll sit by you all night."

  [p. 63]  

"No!" screamed Per. "You mustn't!"

"What is this, Per?"

"You'd better go in again!" said Per dizzily. "I'll look after Botolv."

Mother was so uneasy and irresolute by this time that she obeyed him without question and went.

After a while Father came in and stooped over them. It had darkened a little. Now there was a smell of earth.

"How's Botolv?" he asked.

"There's nothing the matter with him," said Per with difficulty. "He'll fall asleep soon; you'll see. I'll manage."

Father padded away again.

Per and Botolv lay quivering, both of them. What in the world was this that could scare one so horribly? It wasn't true that Botolv was going to die soon. Dear God, you must let---

Botolv quivered. No sound came from his lips. He and Per were struggling with something together. Struggling. They were so weak and exhausted that it seemed hopeless; they would have to give in. After a while Botolv clutched Per's thigh.

"Shall I fetch someone?" asked Per, his tongue paralyzed.

Botolv did not answer. His hands did not let go. He and Per only terrified each other the more by being together. Then Åsmund screamed from the bedroom, a scream from out of a bad dream. Perhaps it was not such a dreadful scream, but it sounded wild and terrible. Botolv and Per both gave a start, almost out of their minds with fright. God, dear God. Botolv groaned. Per screamed, "Botolv!" Botolv did not answer, but his grip on Per's thigh loosened. He must have fallen asleep. In the bedroom Mother could be heard hushing Åsmund after his bad dream. The baby had awakened her hundreds of times.

Everything fell silent. Botolv was no longer quivering. Exhausted as Per was, he became calm. Half slept. Nice and quiet. Thank you, God. Botolv had fallen asleep. Per would sleep too, but he lay dozing, still too tense.

  [p. 64]  

He noticed that Botolv was no longer feverish. He was getting colder and colder. He felt him, and understood, and called out.

The next day the doctor came and decided that Botolv must have died of heart failure, and said it was rare for children to die of it but that it might happen if they had been badly frightened.

Mother said, "But Botolv wasn't frightened."

Mother and Father seemed almost glad that Botolv had died. Even though Mother cried.

There was a funeral. People were invited from the neighboring farms. To Per they were just people. It was remarked scores of times that children like Botolv never grow up healthy. It was repeated until Per felt ready to throw up. Neither Åsne nor Olav had been invited; they lived too far away.

Per went to church, saw the grave, heard the bell. They said that Botolv was an angel now. The church was full of staring people. Per seemed to see Botolv's eyes in every single one of them.

Then he drove home with Father and Mother. He would never dare tell them what he knew about Botolv's death. He believed that if he were to tell them, something monstrous would happen. The earth would open up, the house plunge to destruction.