Monday, December 23, 2021
Mom was home alone, humming along the Xmas songs that were playing on the radio as she worked in the kitchen, baking bread. There was a lot of bread. Too much, if you ask me. I asked Mom.
“Who’s going to eat all this? Even with Tim here, we’ll never be able to finish all those breads,” I said.
“Oh this? It’s for the annual Christmas church sale at the market square. It’s not really a sale, but you know people in Kumpunotko. They don’t like the word ‘charity’ much,” Mom replied.
“So you sell them?”
“It’s all very cheap. We’re basically giving them away, and if the customer doesn’t have money, we do give it away. Of course, they always pretend to be paying. Except for the presents that we hand out to underprivileged kids, those we just hand out, naturally,” she said and let out a long, troubled sigh.
“What is it?” I asked.
Mom looked out the window. “It’s the storm they talk about. Our delivery van is supposed to be driving here from Helsinki tomorrow,” she said.
“Doesn’t look like a storm to me,” I said and ran upstairs.
I logged on “I Wanna Rock!”, the BBS that Twis–, um, Mikke had set up years ago and navigated the menu to the message board. There was one (1) reply to me.
The eagle has landed. Taking the train to K tomorrow. Or, hoping to, somebody mentioned a storm coming our way. Hey, will you be at the theatre? I could meet you there. See ya.
I typed my reply as quickly as I could.
Welcome! Can’t wait to see you but first, I’d need advice with something. Reply asap.
I hit Send and rubbed my hands together.
“What are you doing here, uncle Peter?” Sofie said. She was standing on the doorstep, still in her pajamas. She yawned.
“Oh, I just wanted to talk to Grandma about something,” I replied.
“I think she’s downstairs. Grandpa left early this morning, though.”
“I heard you liked the tape Pete gave you,” I blurted.
“Who told you that? And why would you care?”
“Pete mentioned that you had made a playlist on Stupefy. And no, I don’t care care, just making small talk.”
Neither one of us said anything, we just stared at each other, just like Tina and I had done so many times over the years. I wasn’t as afraid of Sofie as I was of her mother but I wanted to choose my words carefully.
“Any particular song you liked better than the others?” I asked her. “Because I have a lot of records and tapes you can listen to if you want to.”
“Thanks,” Sofie said. She seemed to be thinking hard. She was probably choosing each word very carefully.
“It’s nice to have a friend in Kumpunotko, isn’t it?” I said, and immediately regretted using the word “friend.” Idiot, I told myself.
“Yeah, it’s nice to have … a friend,” Sofie said. She shrugged her shoulders. “Anyway…”
Sofie turned around.
“I have to be going,” I said. “Your Mom and Dad are coming tomorrow. That’s nice, too!”
“Sure,” Sofie said and walked back to her (Tina’s) room. She closed the door.
I was such a lame old uncle. “Yes, it’s nice to have a boy as a friend”, “how wonderful that your mother will be here tomorrow.”
I turned around in my chair and checked the BBS. Twisted Sister had replied!
Hello, this is Dr. Frasier Crane. I’m listening.
My fingers were dancing on the keyboard when I typed. Not well, but dancing anyway.
How do I convice Sagra to plya Diehaaard as a xsm movie?
“Send.”
The reply came momentarily.
TS: You can’t. Is it important?
Me: Wdont have anothr movie 4 or marthon!!1!
TS: Do whatever. Who cares?
ME: whatvr? But it’s a xmds movuea mrtan!
TS: People don’t care. Just come to see a great movie at a wonderful movie theatre. What was the last 80s movie you showed?
ME: Plns traind & automobile!
TS: I think you have your answer. See you tomorrow!
He didn’t reply to my thank you message so I figured Mikke had logged off. He had a point, but I didn’t want to run PTA again. But maybe that was the way to go about it…
I promised Mom I’d help her with the market square sale and rushed out. As I turned right toward the town, I glanced at the rear-view mirror and I swear I recognized the lonesome figure on a bike, riding around our neighborhood. It was Pete.
I stepped on the gas toward Atlas and once there, I ran to the office and grabbed the phone. Mom answered it on the fourth ring.
“Hi, Mom, tell Sofie that she has to walk to work today. Or take a bike. Or something. And no, Dad can’t give her a ride. Thanks, bye,” I said and hung up.
Maybe there was a chance to erase the word “friend” from Sofie’s memory. Maybe a chance encounter with Pete would do it. Now I everything was riding on Pete’s resilience to ride that bike around our house.
I believed in the kid. I had to.
➡️ More on Someday Jennifer (HarperCollins Canada 2019)