Wings & Hearts

Avoiding Paavo became a lot less awkward when school began again, and I actually had an excuse to be out of the house on a daily basis for extended periods of time. More and more I found that I missed the last metro ride to Vallila and ended up taking the bus home in the dark. There was nothing to go home to except Paavo’s outrageous behavior and his cello-playing companions. As a result, my grades and reputation with my professors had begun to improve (surprising, but plausible - I had only been Salutatorian upon graduation, after all) because I had all the time in the world to study.

I also found that I could run pretty damned fast with a thick Chemistry book in my arms and two more just like it in a tote bag on my side in order to catch that last bus home. Even in a pair of spiky heels I could usually arrive at the stop just in time.

Just not today, apparently. I tugged on a long ponytail with an angry fist, as if yanking the hair from my head would help me get home in the dark. I hadn’t any money for a taxi and night had already begun to fall, so with a lit smoke and a sigh I began down the road to the next bus stop, the one I knew was still in service at that time of night - hopefully, I’d make the bus and not have to take the long walk home in the dark.

I didn’t, and ended up taking that long walk home in the dark.

Somewhere along the long road when I finally stopped focusing on how much my feet had begun to hurt in the ridiculous shoes I had chosen and after I had stopped at an Alko to get another pack of fags (walking without smokes was more torturous than an international flight without them), I realized that I hadn’t just been avoiding Paavo. God I missed Jyrki, in the dark I could feel the withdrawal symptoms as clearly as if I had just had an intervention. Maybe I should have trotted right back into that Alko and gotten a bottle of whatever they had cheap. It was no way to live.

Juggling with my keys, books and a brand new cigarette (a ward against the evil that was Paavo), I managed to push my way into a darkened flat and tore the shoes off my feet just in the nick of time - I might have been forced to amputate them with a meat cleaver or something right on my kitchen counter if I had gotten home any later. Fumbling, I managed the light switch and dumped my books on the counter, just daring Paavo to explode again.

Speaking of, I couldn’t help but wonder what had become of my bastard of a brother during the day. As of late, I would usually find him draped over some piece of furniture in the house, drunk as all hell but ready to participate in his favorite new sport - called Verbally Dismember the Sister or something to that effect. On a normal day, I would walk in, set my books down, and try to make it to my room before I was tempted to put a cigarette out on his forehead, but as of yet he was nowhere to be found.

“Paavo? Where did you bugger off to now?” Careful not to drop any ash on the floor (hardwood singed easily and it was my head if the apartment depreciated in value at all), I lit a new cigarette off the defunct butt of the other as I visited the usual places my brother liked to pass out. He was like a fat, pampered housecat in that he had certain areas of the house - little corners - where he enjoyed curling up with a bottle of whatever I happened to have left in the cupboard and drank until he could no longer form a coherent sentence, which was normally when he would begin to badger me.

“I’m getting bored here. Come out, Paavo.”

But he didn’t ‘come out,’ and a thorough search of the apartment (with every light I could produce glaring on its highest setting) produced absolutely no trace of my older brother. On a Thursday night, he should have been home unless he had gotten a job I didn’t know about - and what kind of job had one out at nine o’clock at night, anyway? I suppressed a laugh as I envisioned Paavo working a street corner in a ratty blond wig and lipstick, and nearly wet myself when the thought of pole dancing arose - it was good to know I could still entertain myself sometimes. When I was about to produce my CSI kit and perhaps whip off an imaginary pair of glasses and call the phenomenon murder, the phone rang.

“Paavo?” I had run across the room to the phone as if the angry god of answering would smite me if I did not pick up before that second ring, and nearly dropped a lit fag down the front of the bright blue polo I wore.

“No, Jyrki. You haven’t forgotten me, right?” With a sigh, I perched on the countertop as was my habit when talking on the phone with Jyrki, and began twisting the cord through my fingers - a habit while talking on the phone with anyone.

“I’m sorry Jyrks, it’s just… Well… Paavo’s not home. And he usually is by now.” I couldn’t hide the worry in my voice, even though I already knew what Jyrki was going to say was true even before he said it - what were we, an old fucking married couple? Or had I developed telekinetic powers (which I could probably have used to track down my brother)?

“Aw come on Sini, he’s a big boy, right?” I sighed and nodded, before I realized we were on the phone and I had to voice my agreement for the simple fact that there were no eyes in the receiver.

“How are you?”

“Bored as is usual, I’m currently standing at a payphone in a terminal watching Jussi practice his new favorite motion.” My eyebrows shot nearly off my forehead as I wondered why any of the guys would let Jussi do “his favorite motion” in public, before Jyrki put my runaway naughty streak in check. “Not that motion, sweetling, someone on the street taught him how to do a backflip. It was fantastic at first, but now even Ville’s starting to get annoyed.”

“Oh dear. If it’s any consolation, I have a thesis to write over the weekend.”

“Because that makes me feel better about myself…” I laughed at Jyrki’s false sorrow, wishing that I could have been with the boys. Anywhere was better than the damned apartment. “At least we’re coming home soon, Sin. I don’t think I could take another three weeks of this.”

“What’s this? Drinking, partying, having fun?” The question was distracted as I pulled a book from my bag and let it fall open in my lap to the chapter I had to write on. “Existing outside of the real world?” My finger traced down the highlighted sentences and followed the notes in the margins of the textbook, and then hastily brushed ash from the cigarette between my lips off of the white paper.

“I miss you. And the real world.”

“I miss you more.”

“Oh, shut up. You have things to keep you busy, all I get to do is sit around and think about you.” A pen cap clenched between my teeth alongside a smoke, I couldn’t protest while I jotted a new note in the margin. “Anyway, I know you’re busy. So I love you, and I’ll put Jussi on.”

“I love you too, Jyrki. And I miss you, damnit.” I knew he smiled by the timber of his laugh, but before I could dwell on how much I missed that smile, Jussi was on the other end of the phone, talking faster than the speed of sound about how he broke one of his favorite drumsticks yesterday and he was so bummed about it but he also had discovered a new type of alcoholic beverage that I would definitely need to try when I got home and did I have any French cigarettes at all?

“Oh man Jus, that sucks. I’m sure it’ll be a great drink. No, I’ve gone and smoked them all, I’m sorry. But I have to work on a paper dear, will you give me back to my boy for a minute before I go?”

“I miss you, Sini. Jyrki’s about to die without you, too, he’s getting all angry at everyone and shit, it’s really annoying. Wit’s end, you know?”

“Yeah, I guess I know the feeling. I miss you too, Jus. Remember that drink so you can make it for me when you get back, I think I’ll need it.” I knew he had already bopped off to tap Jyrki on the shoulder and tell him I was still waiting on the line before I managed my entire dismissal - Jussi wasn’t one for goodbyes. Not enough time in his hyperactive day, I’d guess.

“Sinikka?”

“Can you just talk to me for another half hour or something?” I was certain the pout in my voice was palpable, and probably brought another smile from my black-haired lover. “Please? I have no company and even Paavo is better than nothing on a Thursday night.”

“Alright honey, here’s what you’re going to do. You’re going to dig out that bottle of wine I gave you -” I wondered if Paavo had gotten to it, but remembered that I hadn’t let the aged Red join the other alcohol in our home cabinet “-and pour yourself a generous glass while you start on your paper. And then you’re going to run this beautiful bath with bubbles and candles.” I smiled lightly as I balanced the open book on my lap and blew a smoke ring. “You’re going to put down the cigarette for a little bit, and maybe even put on a movie - probably the Lost Boys or the Goonies… Alright, probably the Big Chill.”

“Ah, kultaseni, you know me too well.”

“And you’re going to take a nice long bath. Not do homework or focus on your paper, but sit back and relax. Perhaps you could bring one notebook into the bathroom for yourself, but only to plan my return party!” I could hear the bright grin in his voice - Jyrki really did miss me, it was easy enough to see.

After I wished my love to the tall man in Copenhagen, I began to search for the bottle of wine Jyrki had mentioned, and found it stashed in the trunk I kept at the foot of my bed, along with an old photo album of my childhood. But before I could open either, I fell asleep on the couch, an unlit cigarette dangling between my fingers.