Out Stealing Horses (Ut og stjæle hester)

If you ever were to hear how my life went...

you would hear that things went well.

I have been lucky.

OUT STEALING HORSES

All my life I have longed to be alone in a place like this.

Even when things were going well.

I have lived in Sweden for 42 years.

Now I live here.

In a few weeks a new millennium begins.

There will be festivities and fireworks in the village.

I won't be a part of that.

I will stay here, alone.

Get fittingly drunk,

and sleep as heavily as possible without being dead.

I'm looking forward to that.

Poker?

Poker?

Poker?

Poker?

Poker?

Hello?

You live down the road, don't you?

I just moved in here.

I can't sleep when my dog's gone.

There are wolves in the forest.

Poker?

Sit.

Stay.

The border collie is the smartest dog in the world.

So I've heard.

He's started taking over, I'm afraid.

That's not good.

No.

I killed a dog once.

I promised myself I'd never do it again.

But now...

I don't know.

What kind of dog did you kill?

A German Shepherd.

It wasn't mine.

My mother saw it first.

At the edge of the forest hunting roe-deer fawns.

I had seen it for days. Those poor fawns...

they were terrified. Exhausted.

Eventually my mother called the sheriff. But he said,

"You'll just have to shoot it."

"That's a good job for you, Lars," my mother said.

I sure as hell didn't want to.

I never touched that gun.

But there was no way around it. One day the fawns came running right at me.

And that German Shepherd.

Thirty meters behind them. A huge beast.

I was sure I hit him with the first shot, but he just kept coming.

So I fired again when he was very close.

He fell with his legs in the air and slid right up...

to the toes of my boots.

And there he lay.

Paralyzed, looking up at me.

I bent down to pat him.

But then he growled.

Snapped at my hand.

So I fired two more rounds.

Right through his head.

I'll be damned.

I was only 19.

It was a long time ago.

But I'll never forget that.

I can see why you never want to shoot a dog again.

We'll see.

We've never really introduced ourselves.

Trond Sander.

Lars Haug.

With a "g".

Poker? Heel. Come, boy.

Thanks for the company.

I'll be damned.

Olav can change the bulb.

I'll order the other parts from the scrapyard.

You can go to the store in the meantime.

Thanks.

Do you still like it here?

Yes.

I like the house.

Like living here.

It can't be easy ending up alone, though.

It's been almost three years since she passed, so...

Thirty-eight years of twosomeness.

Suddenly gone.

I was driving.

I don't feel guilt.

Only loss.

Olav just took a break. Want some coffee?

That would be lovely.

Go on in.

- Thank you. - So...

How are things going up there?

I was there a couple of times myself, when it was for sale.

I considered making an offer.

But I'm better at working on cars than houses.

Maybe the opposite for you?

No.

I'm not much good at either.

But I have plenty of time.

I had a practical father.

I learned a lot from him.

Fathers are great.

No, thanks.

My father was a teacher.

Taught me to enjoy literature.

And that was pretty much it.

You couldn't call him practical.

But he was a fine man.

If I have something practical to do, I imagine how my father would do it.

A 40-year-old, confident man.

That's what you looked like when I was 15...

and you vanished from my life.

JUNE

Why not cut down the nettles, Trond?

It will hurt.

You decide for yourself when it will hurt.

I was only 15 years old.

A city boy.

On summer vacation with my father, at this place he had bought cheap.

More than once I heard him say...

he couldn't think with women around.

That's why I was allowed to join him, but not my sister or mother.

Later I've thought that maybe didn't apply to all women.

Hi, Jon.

Have you been here long?

I just got here.

- We're going out stealing horses. - I know.

Hi, Jon.

What's the matter with Jon?

I don't know.

I should have realized there was something with Jon that morning.

Something in the way he moved.

But all I noticed...

was that he didn't have the gun he always used to carry.

That's it. Come on.

That's it...

There, there.

Easy now...

There, there.

Jump!

Where are we going?

I want to show you something.

Look.

Imagine that something this tiny can come alive and fly away.

This morning.

When you were out with Jon.

Yes?

What were you up to?

We were out stealing horses.

We weren't actually stealing them. Just riding them.

How was Jon?

Want to know what they're talking about down at the store?

THE PREVIOUS DAY

He had been hunting, as usual.

Then he remembered his mother was visiting friends.

And his father was in the forest.

He had promised to look after the twins.

Odd?

Lars?

Odd? Lars?

Odd?

Lars?

Odd? Lars?

Lars?

Lars?

I have to get your mother.

You keep an eye on Lars.

Can you handle that much?

Hi!

I'm home again!

He hadn't told her.

The whole way home through the forest. Just the two of them.

And he hadn't told her a thing.

Where's Odd?

So now you know.

My condolences.

Verily, verily, I say unto you.

He that heareth my word, and believeth on him that sent me,

hath everlasting life, and shall not come into condemnation,

but is passed from death unto life.

Our Father...

which art in heaven...

I thought about how it must feel to lose your life so early.

I knew it couldn't feel like anything.

When you're dead, you're dead.

But in that split second just before you died...

would you realize it was the end?

That it was all over?

The Russians have bombed targets in Chechnya,

including a key oil refinery.

After three days of bombing, refugees are pouring out of Grozny.

The Millennium Bug may lead to chaos, as we count down...

Suddenly I am sure.

Lars is Lars.

Lars, who shot his brother.

The last time I saw him he was a young boy of around ten.