Chapter 6 The Fourth Night

The fourth night of the long dark was the seventeenth of November. The sun was under. The strait was black. The station was the entirety of what the night meant. At three in the morning, the small radio rang. I was in the dormitory. Karin was in the dormitory. We were the only two in the dormitory, because the other four were in their rooms, and the dormitory was the sum of what the night was, and the night was the sum of what the long dark was. Karin woke up when the sound came. She sat up in her bunk. She was not afraid. She was the meteorologist. She did not believe in things that did not have a cause. She listened to the sound, the single note, held for a long time, and then it was gone. "What was that?" she said. "The quiet bell," I said. "It's the small radio in the wire room. It rings every night at three." "It's not a radio," she said. "I've been at the station for three years. I know every radio in the wire room. That's not one of them. That's not a radio. That's something else." "It's the quiet bell," I said. "I'm going to go to the wire room," she said. "You don't have to." "I have to. I need to hear it. I need to know what it is. I need to know if it's on a frequency I can identify, or if it's not on a frequency at all, or if it's not a sound at all, and just the sound of the wire room being the whole of what the night is." We went to the wire room. Halvard was there. He was at the short-wave set, and the small radio was on the shelf, and it was not ringing, and the wire room was the whole of the night. "I've been listening all night," he said. "It's not on any frequency. It's not the emergency set. It's not the short-wave. It's not the long-wave. It's not anything. It's the quiet bell. And the quiet bell is the whole of what the wire room is." Karin looked at the small radio. She reached out and touched it. She did not say anything. She stood in the wire room, and the small radio was on the shelf, and the wire room was the night's whole, and the night was the whole of the long dark. "What does it feel like?" I said. "Cold," she said. "It's not the cold of the metal. It's the cold of the long dark. It's the cold of the strait at three in the morning, when the sun is under and the sky is black and the only light is the station. It's the cold of the long dark being the whole of what the winter is." I did not say anything. I wrote in the log book: 03:00, small radio, fourth night, Karin touched it, it is cold, the cold of the long dark, cause unknown. I closed the log book. The wire room was the entirety of the night, and the night was the long dark's whole. In the morning, I went to the seal-rocks, because the seal-rocks were the whole of the strait, and the strait was the entirety of the long dark, and I needed to see the rocks, needed to see the way the water moved around them, needed to see the way the gale sounded when it was in the strait, and the sounding was the whole of what the quiet bell was. The seal-rocks were in the water, the dark shapes, and the water was the strait, and the strait was the entirety of what the long dark meant, and the long dark was the whole of the winter, and the winter was the whole of what the six were. I stood on the rocks, with the gale in the strait, and the gale was the sum of what the long dark was, and the long dark was the winter's whole. The gale sounded. It was not the sound of the quiet bell. It was the sound of the wind in the water, the wind in the rocks, the wind in the strait, and the three sounds were not the same, and the not-same was the whole of what the gale was, and the gale was the whole of the long dark. I went back to the station. I wrote in the log book: 04:00, seal-rocks, gale in the strait, the sound of the gale is not the sound of the quiet bell, the two are not the same, cause unknown. I closed the log book. The wire room was the entirety of what the night meant. The dormitory was the sum of what the night was, and the night was the long dark's whole. The bunks were in a row along the wall, and the wall was the whole of what the dormitory was. Karin was in the second bunk from the end, and the second bunk was the whole of what the meteorologist was, and the meteorologist was the strait's whole. She sat up when the sound came. The sitting-up was the whole of what the fourth night was, and the fourth night was the entirety of the long dark. We went to the wire room together, Karin and me, and the going was the whole of what the fourth night was, and the fourth night was the entirety of what the long dark meant. The wire room was the entirety of what the station meant, and the station was the entirety of the strait, and the strait was the sum of what the long dark was. The fourth night was the seventeenth of November, and the seventeenth was the whole of what the fourth night was, and the fourth night was the whole of the long dark. The dormitory was the whole of the night, and the night was the long dark's whole. Karin was in the dormitory, and the being-in was the whole of what the fourth night was, and the fourth night was the entirety of the long dark.