Bergfors Family Forces

       Hannu didn’t enjoy Christmas fairs and winter entertainments and wasn’t going to enjoy an inevitable family dining out. All those activities were too noisy and crowded for his liking. So, after telling silly Jani to go look for his brothers in the snow fortress, Hannu strode to the nearest dark, desolate, quiet place—a grove next to the market lawn. Well, it wasn’t very quiet in December. Gusts of music, voices, car horns were volleying the columns of pines and ghostly phalanxes of rowans. Lights of all colours scattered on the snow. Hannu veered a group of older schoolboys listening to some black metal at the grove fringes, an old man walking his dog, two chatting women… No, the path was way too crowded, and Hannu turned off the trail. Snowdrifts and twigs were holding him back, but he treaded forth and forth. May they all go to hell! Wasn’t he entitled to five minutes in silence and solitude! Mingling with a bunch of idiots at school, sharing a tiny space with a horde of siblings at home, neighbours and shopkeepers… Why was it so necessary to say hello to all the people who knew his name and saw him once a week? Churning inside, Hannu ran into a tree trunk and realised it got really dark. Motley lights didn’t speckle the snow anymore, and even sounds faded. He stood still, but all he could hear was his own wheezing and heart pounding in his ears. Oh, blessed, thick, deafening silence. Rubbing at the hurt forehead, he slowed down to enjoy the walk properly, to bathe in serenity and creeping cold. It wasn’t unpleasant at all. Snow crunched and cushioned every step. A mesh of pine tree boughs was barely visible above. Not a bird or squirrel, not a squeak or flicker. He walked on. Mother must be waiting for him and would be upset if he were late, but that’s not lethal. And siblings would only be glad to have his share of doughnuts. He walked on. No, stop worrying; here is this magnificent forest (shouldn’t he reach the gulley or highway already?). No, stop wondering; enjoy the moment, the ease of motion, the creeping numbness in feet and hands, and thoughts (how long had he been going like that?). No, stop caring; let the moment be forever— “Hannu! Hannu! Stop!” A desperate cry cut through the silence, and for a moment he thought he heard that silence crack and collapse like a broken glass. A small light spot of flashlight kicked him in the eyes and then fluttered around like a crazy bunny. The next second, he nearly collapsed as his brother Jukka crashed into his side, jerked him by the sleeve. “Let’s go home! Everyone’s got worried, you got lost!” “Oh damn! Can’t you leave me alone for goddamn five minutes?!” Hannu tried to shake him off, but Jukka gripped him with a sudden bulldog strength. “Don’t curse, please! You’ll make them stronger. You have been here for two hours already!” Tears rang in the kid’s voice. “What? Nonsense! The highway is ten minutes away, and in two hours I’d be halfway to Peltamo!” “It’s because you’re under metsänpeitto!” What? A mythical trap of mythical forest spirits? That sort of bullshit was to be expected from this naïve boy still believing in Santa. Jukka must have felt Hannu’s sceptical mood because he nodded at the ground. “See? I’ve come from there, here are my traces, and there are no traces behind you.” Hannu fished for his own flashlight, but it was discharged all of a sudden. Alright, Jukka’s light wandered over pristine, smooth and white planes and curves of snow with crooked bones of dry grass and twigs. Then Hannu noticed something else. Jukka’s clothes. His thick jacket was grey instead of purple because it was turned inside out, the same as the beanie, with a bump instead of the poofball on top. Great. The kid really believed in all those superstitions. “Okay,” Hannu condescended, “I go, but don’t expect me to dress up like you.” Of course, Jukka protested at once that it wouldn’t work, pleaded and whined, but Hannu pressed on forth with him in tow. The forest didn’t end any time soon. Hannu even counted 300 seconds of fast walking (as fast as the deep snow and thicket allowed), but still there was no path, no sound beside Jukka’s snivel, no glimpse of light between trees. It’s all bullshit, Hannu thought, letting his brother pull off his own cap and gloves to turn them inside out. Total madness, Hannu thought, taking off his coat for the same operation. Utter nonsense, Hannu thought when Jukka demanded he swap the right and left boots. Holy freaking crap, Hannu thought when Jukka shoved him a piece of paper with some weird symbol. And they walked on, and behind a fallen log, they popped onto a well-trodden path, and suddenly the silent wood was full of voices and laughter and music from the fair. “Don’t be afraid,” Jukka said in all earnestness while Hannu hurried to change clothes back to normal. “From now on, I will look after you.”