Klempner - Twenty-Six Years Ago
329 Words
Klempner - Twenty-Six Years Ago
The air is glacial, but although the breeze whips through my hair, I’m not cold. Instead, invigorated, I feel strong and ready for anything.
Standing by the frozen sea, I watch the wind drawing snow across the ice in a whirling dervish of frozen granules that lash around my feet. And I think of the last time I did this, here, with her.
Valentine’s Day coming up… I’ll be back in time.
Get her a present…
What would she like?
Something regional? She loved Helsinki…
Some of the local food?
Then I remember her bending over the porcelain, throwing up gravlax and vodka in equal measure…
Maybe not…
Jewellery?
Still persuading her to wear the emeralds I gave her…
A piece of art?
?
?
Perfect.
I head for the town centre, searching for galleries and craft shops, not knowing just what I’m looking for.
But I’ll know it when I see it…
Most are full of the kind of useless knick-knacks that are met with an ‘Oh, how lovely. You shouldn’t have.” greeting, then get pushed to the back of the cupboard: I-Heart-Helsinki fridge-magnets, overpriced chocolates and tee-shirts, dolls in fake Laplander costumes.
Weirdly, some of the gift shops are stocked with mementoes which seem to me completely out of place. Who comes to Helsinki to buy posters of London buses or ‘New York They named it twice’ tee-shirts?
Am I missing something?
Nope…
And then, there it is.
Beautifully painted by some local artist with more Js and Ks in the name than English allows: a scene of the frozen sea, painted from almost where I stood only a couple of hours ago with ice grit-blasting my clothes. A couple stand hand-in-hand looking out over a glinting scene of white and blue, and in the distance, a lone figure sits fishing.
The price, like everything in Helsinki, is horrendous, but who cares? Money is nothing. Mitch is…
… Mitch.
Padded and carefully gift-wrapped, I tuck the package under my arm and head back for the ferry port.
Time to go home…
Home?
When did I ever think of home before?
She’s waiting.
*****
- Writer
