HANNE LYDIA OPHEIM KRISTOFFERSEN • BELONGING ...

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tHe StoRM
2010
Video
12 min.
It was building up; it could be sensed as a different light. There was pressure, a heaviness
in the air. Early in the morning, warm, not yet hot. The sun was concealed behind the
approaching wall of weather. The sea lay calm and crystal clear. As if it was waiting,
subservient to what was approaching. they sat on a little stone jetty. he had just taken
a dip in the still water. she sat with her legs tucked under her body with a hammer in her
hand. They were on a headland, a majestic protrusion in the seascape. The path departed
from the main road and wound its way down to the sea. The house stood at the bottom,
behind large gates.
she had been inside the big house and picked up the hammer. it must have been easily
accessible. She was thinly dressed, the short skirt made it harder to conceal her legs,
made it more difficult to draw her legs up while covering her pants. it was painful sitting
on the stones. She felt that now, now that her head had cleared.
She had been to bars, dancing. Had hung out with two English girls. They were younger
than her, in their mid-thirties. She thinks she got too drunk, since they left. Her head was
hot and her face flushed; everything was blurry. She had sat in the bar by herself; she only
just got served. she was wearing a miniskirt and a sleeveless top.
Suddenly she was on the street. It must have been daylight, a grey light. She sat on the
pavement. a white van had stopped and she got in automatically. the van started driving.
Past her hotel. It drove through long bends, the road rose up out of the landscape. She
threw her sandals out the door as the car sped along; now she was barefoot. The car
suddenly left the road and descended along a gravel path to the house, behind the tall
gates.
it was hard to make out the contours of him. it was as if he was faceless. the alcohol lay
like a thin veil over the pulse, throbbing in her stomach. She had her mobile phone, tried
to reach her sister at the hotel. it was a foreign country and the dialling code was not
recognised. she started shivering and dropped her phone among the stones.
He began touching her. It was then she got the hammer and sat with it in her hand – “If
you come near me, I’ll kill you!” She tried to conduct a conversation. He did not speak
English, only a little German. She knew a few words. He told her where he was from. She
hated that country. It was then he took off his clothes and dived in. He came up, milky
white. He sat in front of her naked. She waited for him to get bored, to take her back. She
talked about her family. her family back at the hotel.
The air was still. The storm was on its way, steel grey. It was indescribably beautiful, a
bitter contrast. They got in the car; it had been hours. Nothing had happened. She lay
down the hammer; she did not need it anymore. The car climbed up the gravel path. It took
a sharp turn and stopped abruptly in front of a small cabin.
It happened so quickly, she was taken by surprise. He dragged her out of the car and into
the cabin. a small room with a bed and a tiny bathroom. a frosted glass pane in the door.
He locked it and flung her onto the bed. He threw himself on top of her, forced her down.
She cried for help, he hit her in the face. She thought the more she fought, the harder he
would become. He went down on her, lay his body the other way. His organ was by her
face; he was limp. She cried, was passive. He forced himself inside her. A shadow loomed
through the glass pane. someone shouted. he dressed and went outside.
She was alone, ran down the road. Her clothes still on, he had not bothered to remove
them. It was sunny. On a little veranda sat an elderly couple. She cried; was asked to sit
down. they covered her naked arms with a towel. they said he had done it before. they
made a phone call.
a car arrived. a policeman in plain clothes. he was like all men from this country. he
drove her to the hotel, waited outside. Her son was still sleeping. Her sister was pale. Her
parents came to see to the boy; she barely dared to look at them. She and her sister sat on
the backseat on the way to the island’s capital.
they waited in a sparse corridor for ages. men went in and out of offices. they typed with
one finger. They talked, smoked. They said they had to find someone who could speak
english. she gave evidence over the telephone. gave details. the sister waited outside in
the corridor. many hours passed. the window of the office was open. the voices from the
street were audible. she thought now everyone can hear. it was completely black outside.
thunder and lightning. a downpour. the storm had arrived.
They wanted her to go to the hospital. The thought of being examined by a man was
unimaginable. they wanted her to press charges. that meant returning from her homeland
to witness. she declined.
the police fetched her one more time before they left her alone. she stayed in the hotel
room all day; her parents came to take her son out to swim. A tour guide arrived. He said
this happened more frequently on the other islands. A doctor came. She gave her some
pills for the swelling on her face. Gave her some tranquilisers; she did not touch them. The
doctor told her to go home. she decided to stay. there were eleven days left.
They hired a car. For several days they drove around the island, like the other tourists. They
left the incident behind, as if it had never happened. They lay in the sun. In the evenings
and at night they sat on the terrace. she and her sister. the child was asleep. they felt
like someone was watching them from the darkness. They saw movements in the bushes,
heard knocking on the walls. they bought a torch and shone it into the night.
One morning, as they were leaving the hotel room, the maid came in. The woman
examined her face – “did he hit you?”
she said. it was then she realised that the whole island knew. the return journey began
at the crack of dawn. everyone from the same hotel stood by the main road with their
luggage. they were waiting for the bus to the airport. she saw him. he cycled past.
She only told one friend when she returned, was talked into going to a refuge. They
were discreet. Followed her up with tests and examinations. She said it had not been
consummated. she said she had decided not to tell. they respected her decision. her
husband never knew. She thought of his reaction, she believed she could not have
defended herself. they carried on as usual. For him it was a continuation. For her it was
afterwards.
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