Good Boy

       Winter forest was a living wallpaper or Christmas card, with heavy snow pillows on pines and firs, hoarfrost on black birch twigs, bush wrapped in snow like corals. The most beautiful of all, there were no other humans or human noises, the snow tuned out cars and snow bulldozers, kids’ screeches from the skating rink, music from the bakery—the whole civilization would go out. Sounds of nature didn’t count. Even Ville barking at squirrels wouldn’t disturb this serenity. Human Ville was different. Instead of woofing and whining, Hannu had to bear with thousands of questions, laughter, elbow punches into his side, constant pleas to play snowballs or fetch-sticks… Today, the silence was peppered with just the whistles of small birds and snow crunching under two pairs of boots. Ville was shuffling a bit ahead, glancing back with a sigh now and then. That sort of silence was unnerving. “You’re sulking over nothing,” Hannu gave up. “The wallet was lost, and thus no one’s, and thus mine. And it didn’t hold much money, just a pleasant trifle.” Ville turned back at once and stood right in the way, nearly stepping on Hannu’s toes. He was often forgetting the whole concept of personal space. “It wasn’t no one’s, there was a— a receipt, right, it might have a name or address! And the money is worth our joint wage for one day! It’s not a trifle. You must return it to the owner.” So much for Hannu’s hopes that Ville would believe him or fail to assess the sum. The dog was too damn quick to take up human schticks. “Like hell I will. The former owner must take this lesson for being a butter-fingered scatterbrain loser.” Ville gave a long, moaning sigh. Silly. As if Hannu could be swayed by whining and a miserable mien. And Ville proceeded from canine to human thing, bargaining. “If you don’t want to communicate with the owner, give the wallet to me, and I’ll do the talking.” “I’ve thrown it away already,” Hannu declared without skipping a beat. “Where?” Ville believed him, as usual. “Like I remember? Somewhere between here and the sawmill hedge. And I forgot which side of the road, or how far.” Even Ville wouldn’t believe it, but he’d have to deal with— Ville was already striding the road back, with detours into snow drifts by the road sides at random, where he’d dig with his hands at any suspicious spots in the snow. “Quit that!” Hannu shouted at him. “You’d scoop snow into your boots and mittens and catch a cold again! Then, I’ll forbid you to come near me and sneeze at me!” Ville had lost his dog’s natural frost endurance, along with his tail and sense of smell. Still, he seemed resolute to dig through all the kilometres of roadsides to the village. Okay, okay… “Ville, I lied. I didn’t have time to get rid of the crap.” Ville stopped in his tracks, then paddled slowly back to the road and looked very guilty at that, for some reason. “It’s so hard to be a human,” he mumbled out of place. “Dogs have it easier. You were my only bestest master, I loved you, full stop. I could get crossed with you, but not for long. And following your commands was a real joy.” “And now?” Hannu tried to say it as nonchalantly as possible. “Did you get disappointed at last?” “No, and that’s the problem,” Ville gave such a long, shuddering sigh that anyone would tell him to stop overacting, but Hannu knew he was most serious. “I still love you, even if you’re… not a very good person. But I understand more now, like, what you want and what is good for you are not the same. And to do what’s good for you, I must go against you sometimes.” “Here you go again,” Hannu winced. “Can you skip the lecturing? I’m too old a dog to learn new tricks.” Frankly speaking, he was unsettled by something else. The ease of that ‘I love you’ from Ville. Sure, he meant the dog thing, but still… Of course, Hannu did hear those words from his parents a lot; they adored him, and it felt natural, like sunset or winter, a due thing, and the same went for Ville’s doggy joy and affection. A dog should love its master unconditionally. And an ‘I love you’ from someone human, someone with such naive blue eyes felt foreign. Obliging, somehow. But Hannu had never used the phrase on humans and didn’t intend to, even if he was a fluent liar. Junior school when the whole class was making greeting cards for Mother’s Day didn’t count. Cuddling a dog and telling affectionate trifles didn’t count, either. Even if he meant the master-to-dog thing, he couldn’t bring himself to tell the tall, fat guy of love. But maybe all the words told to the dog in the past would suffice for the present and future? “No, you are never late in this,” Ville replied meanwhile, then grabbed him across the chest with just one arm while searching through Hannu’s pockets with the other hand. Hannu tried to break free, but in vain; the spirits made a fat dog into an equally chubby human, unfairly taller than his master. The damned wallet was found quickly. Ville released Hannu with a string of apologies and strode back to the village to look for the wallet owner, no doubt. “Stay! Heel!” Hannu shouted, hoping for dog reflexes to kick in, but no dice. Ville froze for a split second but shook his head in a ridiculous knitted beanie hat with a heart pattern (finally, a silly present from his mother was put to use!) and jogged forth. Hannu had to run to catch up with him. “Cut it, you idiot! I’ve taken the money out! If you return an empty wallet, they’ll think you’ve stolen it and will sue you, and the police will find out you have no documents!” “Oh, really?” Ville did stop and glanced back in confusion. “Well, thanks for telling. But I will go and bring it back any way and explain, I don’t know, something. The receipt may be needed for something important. Or the wallet may be a present from someone dear. And the money, we have payday next week, I’ll tell I’ll return it then.” “You dumbass, it’s an outright confession of theft!” Hannu wanted to shake him by the collar, but their height and weight difference wouldn’t allow for that, so he just jerked Ville by the scarf end as if it were a leash. “Okay”. Ville still moved forward, unstoppable like a bulldozer, and his scarf slipped from Hannu’s hand. “At least they won’t suspect you—in case anyone saw you in a window when you picked up the wallet.” What should he do with that son-of-a-dog? “Fine!” Hannu snapped. He was angry, as every time he had to decide and handle anything. “Give it to me, let’s see what kind of receipt it is, and then drop the wallet secretly to the right address with all its contents. And I’ll take my legally found euros later from your salary.” Ville turned to him in joyful surprise, but squinted at once. “Naw, I’ll check it by myself, or you’ll lie to me and keep it for yourself. And besides, you’re always taking all my money anyway.” “Sure, but I use it for our joint rent and food, and now I’ll spend the whole amount on my own pleasures and won’t share it with you.” Now the disagreement was ruled out, Hannu thought. He took a breath and tried to convince himself he hadn’t lost anything, except for some nerve cells. But Ville still pouted, despite his victory, and was now trailing behind and wheezing. Hannu considered himself to be the wronged party. “What?” he asked the pine branches above. “What bad would happen to me if I kept a couple of pretty banknotes to myself?” Ville had an answer ready. “The bad thing for you is that you mistreat others. And they won’t like you.” “Don’t care a freaking shit. That’s their problem, not mine. I still fail to see anything harmful to me personally.” Ville caught up with him in two strides and stared him in the face. “But,” he seemed scared, “then, you are no better than that vicious mean fox!” It was getting boring already. The wood edge was drawing near, and Hannu still hoped to have a bit of wholesome silence. “Dunno, I must be better, because I’m here, safe and sound, and the bastard is in a swamp, hunted down and shot.” “Or, because you were merely lucky,” Ville moved to take Hannu’s hand but stopped and stooped. “What if you’re less lucky next time?” Hannu didn’t even consider such an option but still condescended to explaining some trivial things: you don’t get into a dream realm every day, and in real life, people wronged by you don’t chase you with weapons. They either yell at you, which is easily counteracted by avoiding them, or stop talking to you, which is great as it is. Ville kept silent. Snow crunched under their feet. “What else?” Hannu inquired three hundred metres later. Night was falling fast, and the village ahead became a handful of lights in the dark blue instead of a handful of dark speckles in whiteness. “Do you regret that I am a human now?” Ville asked cautiously after a while. “I mean, I cause so many troubles to you. With the room, and food, and no documents. I bother you with too many talks and lectures. And you don’t like people in general, even such wonderful ones as your parents, or Riikka, or our boss, they all are so kind to you and keep forgiving you while you’re mean and grumpy. I knew you loved dog-Ville. But human-Ville is a burden to you, right?” Shut up, Hannu wanted to say. It was all true, right; tonnes of problems, and he could hardly stand people, and he couldn’t stand talking about relationships at all. The one and only true answer would be yes. But over there, in a magical dream of one vicious fox spirit, Ville had been protecting him, keeping warm in the blizzard, carrying on his back, the scaredy-dog Ville, hiding from crows in real life, had been attacking nightmare monsters to save his master. It was to be expected from a dog, but… Hannu had been really glad to have Ville by his side, even in the form of a squirrel, or a snake, or a bear, or… or a human. And Hannu wasn’t fond of telling the truth anyway. “It doesn’t matter now,” he tried to joke through that cumbersome matter. “No one’s gonna turn you into a dog again. Or do you know a way to ask the spirits to reverse it?” “No!” Ville was genuinely terrified. “I don’t know, I mean, but even if I did… It’s better not to turn down a gift from the spirits, or they may be offended and take away their other gift for such ingratitude!" “What other gift—” Then Hannu tripped in realization. He had been dying. While he had wandered over dream worlds, his body had been dying in the snow under a cliff in the real world. He was still alive at the mercy of a bunch of astral critters. And of course, Ville managed to catch him by the arm and pull him back to stand. “No,” Ville hurried to add. “No, I’ll just take a bus and go… somewhere. To a city. I am a good bakery assistant, as Mr. Kuikka says, I’ll cope by myself. And you will buy a plain, normal dog.” Hannu tried to imagine walking down this road with an unfamiliar puppy, an Alsatian, or a fox terrier. Imagination kept on picturing a Finnish Spitz, or human Ville, fidgeting on the porch and begging to let him open the door with a key, and rejoicing as if it were the most exciting entertainment in the world. Or Ville taking frankfurters out of the fridge in a nearly religious awe. Or Ville copying all movements of Hannu to brush teeth. Or Ville, forgetting he wasn’t a dog anymore and climbing to the bed to lie on Hannu’s feet—it’s too heavy and hot for a sixteen-kilogram dog, and absolute hell with an over-eighty-kilogram human, damn him! Or naive stupid Ville, alone in a big city, following a new friend (he makes friends on the fly) to a dark lane, taking a pill or white powder from a stranger’s hands… “Ville, you stupid dog.” Hannu hugged him around the scarf-wrapped neck, even though he had to stand on his toes, and patted him on that ridiculous beanie. It was not as convenient or familiar as ruffling furry scruff or cheeks. Yet with all the layers of their clothes, it was almost okay. Why not clothe his attachment to this once-dog and fear for him in more muffled words, then? “I forgive you for being a pain in the… side. You’re my friend, after all. And don’t you dare to run away. I’ll notify the police of the loss of the best good boy in the world.” Ville’s face was unreadable in the dusk, but he stood still, then suddenly licked Hannu on the nose, whirled him round in the arms, and ran away with a yelp to furrow a smooth snow field at the forest fringe. Hannu could almost hear happy barking. Dogs were really simpler and nicer than people; no wonder that a dog turned out to be the most acceptable version of a human being. They entered the village. The brightest lights were in front of the bakery, and tape music roared from there; it should be Tuomi and his gang, fraying adults’ nerves again. Hannu turned into a darker lane, and Ville didn’t herd him into the crowd. The best good boy he was, he must have felt Hannu was so done with socialising for now.