So without fully understanding how it happened, as if there was some kind of adult signal or other that I didn’t catch, as in a card game where there are secret signals, touching the nose or earlobe to communicate to one’s partner the trump one has in one’s hand—several people stood up at the same time, Mommy went over to the record player and changed the music, and they started to dance.

Svein held out his hand to Mommy. I’d heard him talk about being married—he wore a gold ring on his finger—but all the same he clearly wanted to dance with Mommy. She took his hand, and there was something about her, the way she held her head, her eyes, maybe, that made me think she might start laughing—not at him, but toward him, a sort of bubbly giggle. I waited for the laughter to come, dreading it. I didn’t want to hear her laughing like that, but she remained silent, luckily, and just danced with him.

Everyone was on the dance floor now. I was the only one sitting down and I didn’t know what to do with my long arms and legs. I crossed them, my entire body twisted into a cross, then untwisted myself again, but nobody saw it—and anyway it didn’t matter because I was invisible. I was the opposite of Mommy.

Suddenly I thought of her sounds, the howling. Svein Bredesen put his hands on her hips, he spun her around, and her howling echoed in my ears.

The adults danced, their eyes shining and heels hitting hard against the floor. Full skirts sent tiny vibrations through the air against my face. I could smell the odor of adult bodies growing warm, of everything they hid under their clothing, in their armpits, down their backs, between their legs.

I could have helped myself to a taste of something from one of their glasses—they wouldn’t have noticed. I could have tasted the alcohol, but I didn’t need it, because I was already dizzy and smiling like Mommy, without knowing why; soon I would also giggle a bubbly giggle without meaning to.

It could have continued like this for a long time. I could have sat watching the party for hours, maybe I would have finally also tried to drink. I planned which glass I would take, one nobody had drunk from for a long time. It could have continued this way and the evening could have turned out differently for me, but all of a sudden I saw shadows on the porch, two silhouettes out there. They staggered around, trampling back and forth and staring through the windows, and I was the only one who saw them. My heart pounded. I was going to point, tell everyone about them, but at that moment the porch door opened and they came in, accompanied by the cold evening air from outside.