Bergfors Family Forces

       Hannu loved silence. And it was just his luck to be born into a big, noisy family with six brothers, one sister, and one more sibling underway. And his mom loved music, anything labelled with rock or metal. Let’s say, with an electric kettle and tape player broken, she’d take the player first to repair and leave the kettle for the next month to be fixed out of the next children's allowance. And Hannu’s position in the babysitting order was not very favourable. He had been just two years old when he stopped being the youngest and most cherished baby, and his older bro was just two years ahead of him; too little to take care of him but old enough to look down upon him. Alright, Hannu didn’t mind spending time all by himself, but little brothers kept coming, and now, at thirteen, he was old enough to be entrusted with a small fry or two. The middle brothers, Jussi and Jukka, could sneak away from house chores with impunity (as they did now, and good riddance), while Hannu and his big brother Jonne were burdened with the rest of the pack while Mom was working. But today Jonne was off to school to correct his poor term grades, while his wards, the eight-year-old twins, enjoyed vacations, and Hannu had to suffer vacations with the three squids for the price of one. His head was already spinning. He had taken the little squirts out to the backyard to run in the wild and get exhausted without much damage, but the tweens seemed to have endless energy, and toddler Jani preferred to sit in snow and bawl whenever Hannu turned away from him. The lazy winter sun had long settled down, and all the snowdrifts were gleaming in the light of the only electric bulb over the cabin porch. The calendar promised a full moon, another Hannu’s love, but the weather had other plans and a large stock of clouds. Hannu howled inside, sighed outside, and went to take Johannes off the rain-pipe before Johanna joined the fun, and the twins tore the pipe off by their gross weight. The two bandits demanded to play tag, Hannu’s least favourite game, and he said they could well play without him. Strangely, four-year-old crybaby Jani was silent. That boded no good. Hannu looked around and noticed the squid paddling towards the shed. And a nook behind the shed corner was a shooting range for peeing contests of the mid-boys, and little stupid Jani still didn’t learn the old truth, Don’t eat yellow snow. Dragged away from his goal, Jani bawled again. Geez, Hannu thought. How could he make them all shut up? Offer a game involving eating? But there’s not enough ready-made food to keep three mouths shut for long. Free and abundant icicles? No, the kids might get sore throats… That was when the first snowflakes fluttered in the electric light. “Listen, guys!” Hannu shouted. “Let’s play a new game! Look up at that pretty snow, open your mouths, and let’s catch snowflakes with your tongues. The one who’s the first to say a word loses.” And he showed how to do that. The twins froze for a second, then joined the game, still pushing each other and circling around the backyard, but without a word. Their tongues were all the way out like pink slugs. Watching them, Jani opened his large maw too. Snowflakes fell; silence grew louder. Hannu closed his eyes and drank up the night and soft wet kisses of the winter.