Flecks of Sun

Mid- December 2017

The newspapers in Helsinki hung over stall racks as the rain continued to fall down and droplets pooled around the words of the day. Four hours earlier Ville had arrived home and was taking a morning walk to grab a coffee.
Christmas decorations hung around the city with lights strung from the eaves of buildings. Ville looked up at one such set of lights and sighed. He had yet to make a decision about Emile. He hadn’t decided to let it go completely, but he hadn’t spoken to her in two days. Granted it was a short amount of time but after a night like that, he could have at least messaged a “hello.” The city was quiet at this hour as it was not even seven am. He also liked to grab the newspaper for the news and occasionally to take his mind off things, he would reach for the gossip magazines but he didn’t want to read anything else absurd after Paris. He had not brought his phone, he resolved to contemplate that morning. Mige was also pressing the Emile question and Ville wanted to clear his head.

Chiefly among his concerns was how to proceed-if he did. She would most likely go back to Asia and then what would they do. On the contrary they could just explore a relationship and see how it developed. The more he looked at it less objectively as pressure, the more the anxiety dwindled. He could just reach out to her and say hello. He could lie and say something came up with work and he had to leave quickly. Or, he could be honest that she frightened him as much as she tempted him. She was not the paradox, he was. He had to decide to run with it or run away from it. He had chosen the latter but it was not too late to turn that around. He flipped open the paper, “ISIL Warns…” Ville sighed. Ever since the attacks started in Paris two years ago, they kept escalating even though throughout the year their territory became less and less which only made the terrorist activity more volatile. The newspapers warned the likelihood of an already targeted city as the place for a year-ending attack to bring a circle to what started on the 1st in Turkey. Ville, disgusted closed the paper. It seemed less a tragedy and more a hype mechanism.
There had been 8 prominent attacks including Turkey this year and over 433 dead combined. In the distance the tram came down the avenue and Ville was lost in a mental haze of the fragility of life.

*

I was angry. Walking was easier now and I was metaphorically and literally pounding the pavement as I walked out my frustrations in Paris. It had been six days and no word. I suppose I had held out the belief he’d at least say good-bye or something. At the same time perhaps I was being ridiculous. I just could not let go of the fact that we had a connection, that I felt something, I really felt something. I decided to stay with my grandfather through the conclusion of the New Year. Lis had already returned home and work which allowed me to stroll Paris everyday trying to figure out my next step. I had missed Europe and I knew I had to return top Asia. I could conclude my work contract in three months and be done. I could look for a job in Paris or the States. Perhaps it was best that Ville didn’t reach out. I had no idea what my plans were for even four months away that a semblance of a relationship….would be……AGH my mind. I stomped my way back to my grandfather’s. I probably resembled a petulant child.

“Lis,” I complained as I flopped onto my bed.
“Emile,” she answered back with a sigh. I could tell I was beginning to annoy her.
“I’m sorry, “I whispered, also annoyed with my self.

“It’s okay. You just need to stop being so angry and to be honest it’s not even about Ville,” she said cautiously.

I paused. I knew I was “angry” but I summed it up to an imaginary and almost sarcastic anger. The kind where you think “I’m so angry” but it’s more with a smirk than a growl.
“You think I’m angry?” I asked her.

“Em, I can see you marching around Paris in my head,” she answered with a laugh. Even if she wasn’t physically around me, Lis knew me.

“I just don’t feel angry,” I said.

“But you are. Maybe it was a disappointment about Ville, but this anger is more with yourself. You’re angry for messing up Helsinki and that you didn’t return to work right away and instead stayed in France. For once, you have no idea what to do and you’re angry with yourself for not having a plan. Sitting still has made you realize just how unhappy in your work and environment you were. I think hurting your ankle was a good thing-you’ve re-evaluated many things. So many of your friends could see you were going through motions, but you couldn’t see that. Now that you have no structure, the idea of returning to that pattern is less appealing,” she finished and gave me a few minutes to think.

It was true, I would work and go home. I hardly had plans with friends as my schedule was demanding and I was tired by it. I realized I needed to work but it didn’t need to consume my life. I suppose the anger was more from not seeing this before. With Ville, it felt like I was experiencing that first kiss you have a teenager that alights your world to love and romance. I had neglected that part of myself for so long and I hadn’t really felt something in such a long time.

“I think I’ll go back to Asia and finish up my contract. In the meantime, I’ll put out applications and see where the wind takes me. Maybe the best plan is to not have a plan?”
I knew that was not so simple. If I didn’t actively look for a job or get one – I’d be in Asia until I figured out something. If all else, I could just take a simple one in France or the US with my citizenship. I breathed out, there were possibilities. The anger and confusion at myself subsided. But there was a sliver of pain of something I couldn’t put my hand on that threatened to crack more if I dwelled too much on it.

“About Ville, have you heard anything?” Lis asked switching gears. She knew when to not press an issue and change topics. Generally… Unfortunately, not this topic.
“No.”

“I just feel odd. I don’t feel angry about it, I put my guard up on it again. But I feel that I started to feel something and it felt so good and natural. I have no reached out to even say hi. I don’t know what to do and I don’t want to bother him, but I feel so unbalanced. It was one night out and we’ve only known one another a few weeks and even that we don’t know each other. I don’t understand how you can feel so crazy from something that happened once. I didn’t have expectations and then he made me want expectations,” I concluded with pressing my forehead against the wall. I wanted more, I just didn’t want to admit to it.

“Look, maybe you could just say hi,” Lis suggested. “What would it hurt? Maybe he doesn’t respond but at least you said something. He could have gotten busy or maybe he’s waiting for you to make the first move.”

“That could be the situation,” I said thinking about it. Maybe he was waiting for me to say something or maybe he was just as exacerbated by the unease of emotion I was also feeling.

Lis said she had to get going and to try to go out or clear my head by not roaming around Paris.
“It’s almost the holidays, try to get in a better mood.”

I ended the call and opened a new imessage. I wouldn’t type “hi” that was too ambiguous.
What to say? What to say? What to say?
The radio from the kitchen downstairs made me aware that my grandfather was home. The sounds of “Lost on You,” by LP drifted upstairs and I smiled. I loved her voice and the song. She certainly gained more fame this year. Music! I could share music with him. I did a quick google search for the song and sent it to him.

I tossed my phone on the bed and went downstairs. My nerves were heightened and I needed to distract myself. Unfortunately, my grandfather was making dinner and my nerves had killed my appetite. But I couldn’t stop a smirk from creeping upon my face and he noticed. He asked and being in a mood I spilled everything, well almost everything. He had lots of questions naturally but also approved of my message just to see.

“You don’t know if you don’t try,” he said turning to cut up some carrots.
“I heard the radio on and was inspired to use music,” I said sheepishly.
“Oh? How did you do that?” he asked,
“Well LP”s song was on and I love her voice so I shared the song,” I responded.
“Lost on You? That song, the sad love ballad?” he asked turning back around.
“Well, yeah but not in that context, just her voice,” I explained.
“Well I am glad you corrected it or he might think the lyrics are the message.”

At my grandfather’s words, a horrible realization dawned on me. I hadn’t sent a message. Ville probably thought the song was the message. I raced upstairs to retrieve my phone and I had a new message, from Ville. My heart dropped. “OH FUCK!” I said aloud. The lyrics played in my head.
“To all the things I lost on you, oh-oh Tell me, are they lost on you? Oh-oh Just that you could cut me loose, oh-oh After everything I've lost on you.”

It sounded poetic perhaps at the end of a relationship but incredibly melodramatic from one date. What had I done? I could clarify, of course I could. Or would he think I was lying? First I should just see what he says. I mean I only believed in the cut me loose part because it felt like free-floating and left to assumptions the past week, but the rest no, too serious for this. I took a deep breathe and opened his message.

“If this is how you feel, then this is how I feel. It’s apt if you’re in Asia.” He had sent a link to a song. “OH REALLY FUCK!” I swore.

“Em, is everything okay?” my grandfather asked from the stairs below.
“YES,” I shouted back and clicked the link. It was an LP song as well, “Tokyo Sunrise.” Did I know this song? Vaguely. I pressed play and listened. The lyrics encompassed my room with the sound of the instruments.

“Some day in the sky we'll see the same sun on the rise yeah
Wherever you go
Far as Tokyo
I can say....
I'll see you again
I'll see you again
I'll see you again
Oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh ohhhh oh”

When it ended, I looked at myself in the mirror. What did it mean exactly? He wants to see me again? I didn’t mean my song, should I send another? I disliked confusion and got to the point.

“I didn’t actually mean those lyrics. I just like her voice, wanted to share her music.”

“I meant those lyrics. What are you doing?”

I had butterflies in my stomach and a light rainfall started. I loved the rain.

“I was thinking about going for a walk.”

I decided to do it and went downstairs and told my grandfather I would pick up something light for dinner, it was about 5 o’clock and I could grab a sandwich before some of the day cafes closed.

“Are you walking now?” came the text message.
“Yes.”
“Would you mind walking to Helsinki?”
He was really going for it. I felt whiplash. I needed to slow down.
“I would mind. Would that even be welcome? Would there be anyone there?” my hurt was getting the better of me. Maybe I was taking everything too seriously.
He didn’t respond for a few minutes and the butterflies that had started, began to fade.
I made my way toward the Eiffel. I needed to see something beautiful, something bigger than myself. I needed to see accomplishment and purpose. I recognized I wanted something badly and I wanted to try for it, but how could I try if the opportunity wasn’t even there. My phone rang and I absent mindedly answered.

“Yes?” I asked.

“Yes, there would be someone there,” came a response on the other end. It took me a few minutes to realize who was calling and that he was answering my question.
I had just turned onto Rue Violet, the Eiffel in sight.

“Where did you go? I was so confused and I didn’t know how to proceed.”

“I was confused Emile and I am sorry. I didn’t know how to proceed. I took it very seriously and started to ask the long-term questions that shouldn’t be asked until you get to that point. I panicked, in simplest words.”

I had to.

“We can just take it slow,” I said slowly as well as if the fear of those words left as I said it.

“I’d like that,” he said immediately and laughed. “Everything has felt so tense and awkward. I didn’t know how to approach you and then you sent me the music video and I already knew what an ass I was being.”

“I didn’t mean to send THAT sort of lyrical music video.”

“I don’t quite believe it. I think you secretly want me to grow out my long hair and wear even skinnier pants and stand in front of some dressing screens.”

He was maddening to my nerves. “I’m not sure if that would be seductive or hilarious,” I responded as I got closer to the Eiffel. Perhaps it was my mood but it looked even more beautiful today.

“I could do both for you,” he answered and I laughed.
“Ville. If we take it slowly, you have to at least talk to me. I know you’re embarrassed by your awful jokes but I forgot how easy it was to converse with you.”
It was quiet.
“I’ve missed talking to you. Even if we take it slow, I’d like to see you again soon. I am not quite sure-“
A loud noise interrupted his sentence.
“What was that?” he asked into the phone.
“I don’t know,” I answered as I heard it again and tried to pinpoint what and where it was coming come. It sounded like fireworks.

*

Ville heard the noise again. He couldn’t make out what it was as it sounded far away but then closer.
“Stop moving,” he instructed to Emile as she said it sounded like fireworks, “just in case, stop moving.”

Then he heard it closer and people shouting.
“Emile, what’s going on?”

There was silence on the other end.
“Emile?!”
The phone must have fallen as he heard noise but it sounded smothered.
“Emile?” he asked again raising his voice in a panic.
Did he know anyone in Paris? Of course he did. He hesitated. Where was his other phone?
He quickly scrambled around his living room until he retrieved it from the bookshelf and dialed his friend James who was a freelancer based in the city.
James didn’t answer and Ville racked his brain. Emile’s line was still chaotic with noise, a lot of background noise and nothing was ok.
Ville called James again who finally answered.
“What’s going on in Paris?” Ville barked.
“I don’t know. What are you talking about?” James asked and Ville relayed the call to James. Nothing was on the news yet.
“I have some contacts within the departments, I’ll get back to you as quickly as I can.”

In the meantime, Ville turned on the news and reloaded the online website with no updates.
Seven painstaking minutes later, the news banner for “Breaking News” ran across the bottom of the screen just as Ville’s phone rang.

“Ville, they say there was an attack in the center, on the metro, and near the Louvre,” James said but Ville already knew. He watched as the news tried to report more details. Emile’s line had gone completely dead.