Bergfors Family Forces

       Jussi overviewed the lake bank and whispered some words Mom would disapprove of. Where was the tinfoil strip he had wound on a specific willow twig near a specific stone at the place he– The wind must have torn the strip away. Or a bird found it interesting. Or it was still there, under hoarfrost and snow, invisible among hundreds of the same twigs. All willows looked the same, all boulders looked the same, all ice bends along the shore looked different from two weeks ago. Was his stash under ice already, or still in open water? And Jussi was wise enough not to walk over shore ice of unknown thickness under snow. Besides, he hated to have wet feet. Now all reasonable doubts were fighting in his mind with a desire to know the results of his experiment. He was pretty sure he succeeded, but still… Curiosity won. Carefully he slid down to the water's edge (or where it was under snow and ice) and walked along it, stopping now and then to stare at every willow cluster. Maybe this one? No, there should not be trunks leaning down almost to the ice. Or that one? A dozen of stems and a large boulder behind it—or was it just a snowdrift? Jussi put a foot one step closer towards the dark water edge. Snow crunched, but without a peculiar ice crack. Okay, one more step… “Hey, little one!” Jussi nearly tripped and looked back. A man was following his tracks from the banked roadbed. The voice was familiar, and the form… The police uniform, that is. Oh. Old Crunchy. Mom’s colleague constable. Jussi backed away from the lake, trying to look innocent and thinking frantically of a good cause to be there. “Good evening!” he chimed. “I’m not going closer, I know it’s dangerous, I just… I dropped a mitten, and… wind blew it away, and I try to find it, Mom will be annoyed to have to buy more mittens.” Oh, that wasn’t very plausible, he thought. But maybe Crunchy was tipsy enough to believe it? As usual, the old constable was slightly stewed as usual. He was getting off with that because it didn’t keep him from doing his duty, and, second, Taivaankoski police station was always short of staff. “Ah, you’re Maria’s kid, the smart one,” Crunchy croaked as he stepped in between Jussi and the bank. “Not so smart today, huh? Go back, I’ll look for it, I dropped my uniform mitten from the bridge. Hope it’s washed ashore here. What colour is yours?” “Er. Black.” Jussi showed one gloved hand and one bare. He had managed to peel the second mitten off behind his back and stuff it into the coat sleeve. “Alright, kid.” Crunchy waved him off. “Now go home. How many mittens do you lot lose in a year, I wonder. A whole smallware department’s worth, I bet…” Grumbling under his breath, he wobbled away along the shoreline, staring at the waterfront. Jussi didn’t go far, looking back now and then, so he saw the moment when Crunchy slipped or tripped, and fell flat on the ice fringe. Thump—crack—splash, swear words (none Jussi didn’t know, what a pity). “Mister Cru… Toivosto, I’ll call for help!” Jussi yelled but decided to wait for confirmation first. Right choice. Crunchy was already struggling to his feet. “No, kid, I’m not that desper—wait…” He leaned over ice, snow, and water mush and pulled something out of the water. In the twilight, Jussi recognised a light green cardboard pack. His lost project. In the hands of police. Oh. Mom would be angry. No, wait… “Hm,” Crunchy held the pack to his nose to read the letters. “Apple juice. I don’t get these people. Throwing food out. Throwing trash into our good, clean lake. Must be tourists. We’d never do that, right? No respect to Nature, jeez…” Jussi chided himself for a moment of terror. Indeed, no one would suspect an eleven-year-old boy of producing alcoholic drinks. It wasn’t complex, though. Easy peasy. Buy a pack of apple juice with a discount for approaching expiry date. Leave it in a warm place to ferment. Well, that one was not easy, to find a warm AND safe place. Home with a squad of siblings was definitely not safe. School, the same. Finally, Jussi had found a quiet nook in the town library, behind the shelf with biographies. Then, leave the semiproduct in cold for clarification. The lake waters were perfect for that; it’s above zero as long or as deep as the water is not frozen, right? Jussi was sure the cider would be ready before the lake froze too deep, but a snow spell had broken his perfect scheme, changing the shore beyond recognition. Luckily, Crunchy was famous for sensing the illegal booze miles away in a mysterious way. If he fell straight into the hiding place, it meant the juice did become a cider. Besides, now Jussi didn’t have to rack his brain about what to do with it; he had not thought through that part of the process, frankly speaking. In high spirits and with a clean conscience, he went home.