Last Night in Nuuk

by Niviaq Korneliussen

  ‘Four beers? I’ll teach you how to party!’ she laughs.

  Maybe she thinks she should be proud of herself for always being shitfaced. I know I don’t want to get drunk and I will prove it. She’s fucking well not going to drag me down with her.

  ‘Four shots of vodka!’ I shout through a crowd of people to the bartender.

  ‘Four?’ asks Arnaq happily.

  ‘It’s on me!’

  Because I haven’t seen hope yet. I want to escape that horrible disappointment. I want to get shitfaced! I want to party till I’m invincible! But things are looking up as my favourite song comes on in the bar: ‘Crimson and Clover’ by Joan Jett and the Blackhearts.

  ‘Arnaq, where will the after-party be when it closes?’

  She isn’t listening to me. Maybe she’s fucking delirious.

  Fucking delirious.

  ‘Fia! Did I tell you I was crazy about a woman? Do you remember that?’

  I nod.

  ‘Don’t look now! There’s a woman with short hair right behind you. It’s her!’

  I turn my head slowly. Am excited to see a lesbian but immediately disappointed at what I see. Apart from her beautiful face, she has the body of a man. Without the sausage.

  ‘Wouldn’t it just be the same as being with a man?’ I ask her jokingly.

  ‘Oh fuck, but she’s so sweet! I’d marry her if she didn’t have a girlfriend.’

  ‘Has she got a girlfriend?’ I ask.

  ‘Ugh, yes. She’s here. She’s coming over,’ she says, surprised.

  I turn my head calmly so that nobody notices. Sara. Then I grind to a halt. I’m now running on hope.

  I admit it: for the first time in my life I’m feeling something very powerful. I don’t think I can escape it. I’m about to enter new territory and I’m horrified. I’m about to cross the line but I can’t stop. What is it I feel? Lust. How do you say lust in Greenlandic? It’s risky. It’s very risky. I just can’t stop until I get what I want, I don’t want to give up. It’s that taboo. My body’s struggling to survive, and I’m fighting to breathe because I’m being smothered. I can feel my lungs fighting to keep up. I want her. I’ll go mad if I don’t have her. Lust. My pulse rises. My blood begins to flow again. After three years, arisen from the dead, ascended into heaven. Or down? I don’t give a shit. I’ve come alive! Jesus, welcome back to life!

  ‘Hi,’ says Sara, brushing my back with her hand. Suddenly I can’t figure out what to say and give her a broad smile instead. I want so much to kiss her that I can hardly control myself. ‘Crimson and Clover’ is still playing in the background, giving us the perfect soundtrack.

  ‘Are things okay with you?’ I think she asks me.

  ‘Yes, I’m fine. How about you?’

  Am positively surprised at my answer and feel safe.

  ‘Fine, thanks,’ she answers. ‘Nice meeting you the other day.’

  ‘Same here. It’s nice to see you,’ I hear my heart say.

  She smiles and seems charmed by my reply but then straightens her back when she sees Arnaq next to me. ‘We were on our way home. See you again soon,’ she says.

  No, fuck no, please don’t leave me, stay by my side, don’t go away. Let me touch you, let me kiss you, let me take you home to my place, no fucking way, no, don’t disappear, you’ll smash me into a million pieces if you disappear, you’ll knock me down just when I’ve finally stood up, you’re killing me now that I’ve come alive again, please, oh God please, don’t leave me again.

  ‘Where are you off to?’ I hear myself say, but the person I’m talking to doesn’t hear me. She’s left me. My survival instinct kicks in. Need to survive. I feel the need. The need to survive. I turn towards Arnaq.

  ‘Fia, did you hook up with Sara?’ she asks me, covering her mouth.

  I remain silent as she begins to stare at me and I can no longer keep my secret.

  ‘No, we haven’t been together …’

  ‘Since when have you been attracted to women? Wh–what’s going on?’ she stutters and laughs.

  I feel the need. ‘How about we get out of here?’

  She gives me a confused look. I look her in the eye. She’s no longer confused. She’s turned on. Feels the need too.

  Through a crowd of people, making a beeline for a taxi, towards Qinngorput, a new area of Nuuk, our hands touching, my heart’s racing, it hurts, sexual attraction, animal behaviour, survival, silence on the way in, awkward opening the door, have you brought your keys, she passes me, touching my body with hers. She’s willing, she’s hot, thinks I’m hot too, don’t know what I am but I am drunk, ‘Let’s go to my room,’ she says gently, puts me down on her bed, can hardly, don’t know how I’m to begin, thank goodness for Arnaq, she calls the shots, strips in front of me, her stomach, bra, thighs, new sight, dark sensation, my body says it’s right, my brain’s in doubt, she’s coming closer, climbs on top of me, ‘Do you really want to?’ she asks, ‘Is it okay?’ I ask, she comes closer, her breathing is getting heavier, what I see is beautiful, fragile, want to touch but am unable to, tremble, she’s my friend, don’t want my friend but her body, I want another woman, but I replace her with Arnaq, an arnaq, my thoughts are moving fast, time stands still, her lips touch, first my neck then my lips, she has no beard, doesn’t sting, she’s soft, lovely, but she’s Arnaq and not Sara, but that’s okay because she’s an arnaq, a woman, everything moves inside me, remember now that this is how it feels down below, it tickles, I look up at Arnaq, can hardly believe, ‘Are you wet?’ she asks, I say ‘Yes’ and ask her whether it’s okay, ‘It’s okay, you just follow me,’ she says, can no longer recognise the Arnaq I know, kiss Arnaq, the hot girl, kiss the holy arnaq again, the holy woman, our hands take off clothes, our bodies, our skin, touch each other, her hand brushes, reaches where, the next thing is what I fear, but I move my hand, am able to because it’s not Peter, reach the place, discover that it’s not a sausage, I confirm because it’s not a sausage, I confirm that I like it, have found my answer.

  I wake up relieved that Arnaq isn’t there and hurry into my bedroom. I don’t know what to feel about last night’s revelation. Strange that it was Arnaq. Yet not strange that it was a woman.

  I’m scared of last night’s revelation. My dream of getting out of my comfort zone has been fulfilled, and I have no idea what to do. Last night answered many of my questions, and my heart aches in a way I’ve never known before. I confirm what I can’t get out of my mind. I’ll have to tell Sara. I’m suffering. But I’d rather feel pain than not feel anything. I take a piece of paper and start writing; what I feel, the things I want to do to her, how sweet she is … The words come to me from the song – our song – ‘Crimson and Clover’.

  *

  Sara. One woman. Two weeks of fantasies. Thousands of unspoken words. Millions of questions. Thoughts and emotions that rush towards infinity. Hours slowing down. My numb self can feel again. My fantasies become stronger. I no longer doubt my existence. Only I haven’t seen her again. The spring night is bright, quiet. Now and then some drunk people pass by. Have been lying in my bed for hours and I don’t think I can fall asleep. All of this has blown me wide open and I have to tell somebody. I begin to long for my little brother. I ignore the time and give him a call as he’s always supportive.

  ‘Hi,’ he says.

  He’s with a crowd of people by the sound of it.

  ‘Hi, am I disturbing you?’ I ask him in a voice that is loud but a bit croaky because I haven’t spoken all day.

  ‘No, wait a moment. I’ll go outside.’

  ‘That’s okay. I’ll call you back tomorrow.’

  ‘No, I’ve just gone out. Are you okay?’ he says. It’s quieter now.

  ‘I’m fine. I just miss you.’

  Just listening to his voice makes me almost burst into tears.

  ‘I miss you too. It’s good to hear from you. I really want to see you.’

  ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘We’re at an after-part
y. My friend invited me yesterday evening, and we went into town.’

  ‘Hope it’s fun.’

  Don’t know what else to do so I start to say goodbye.

  ‘Come and join me,’ he says enthusiastically. ‘I’ll pay for the taxi.’

  Find the thought of drinking off-putting but accept the invitation so that I can get out. I’ll only fester if I stay here.

  I arrive in a taxi and see that my brother’s waiting to pay my fare. The strange feeling inside me fades as I give him a hug, and I’m ready to tell him what’s happened. It’s about time. The first step. My life will change, I can feel it. We enter one of the many apartment buildings, and on the staircase I already smell cigarette smoke and hear music and laughter. I feel awkward because I’m not drunk but am comfortable with my brother, who’s standing next to me. We walk towards the living room and pass some drunken people. We meet a crowd of young people sitting on sofas, and I look around for someone I might recognise.

  It really was love at first sight. I’m now absolutely sure that she sees me. It’s true that I’ve met Love. I see that she knows it too when her eyes meet mine. I acknowledge that she has also acknowledged it when she walks over to me and gives me a smile. I fetch the paper out of my pocket and give it to her. Because words can’t explain or describe. I give her my heart. She reads it, looks me straight in the eye, moves away from me, and my heart stops. Sara, you’ve won my heart … And she picks up a guitar. We look at one another among dancing bodies. Sara; my heart … Sara, my heart.

  She sings. Our song. Which is precisely when my heart begins again. Beats once more. It was meant to be. It was meant to be you. It was meant to be me and you. She walks over to me, and my world is totally silent. I only look at her, and the sensation within me is infinite. She takes hold of me and escorts me out of the door, and I don’t resist. The spring night is invigorating. Nature has quietly come to life again, and that’s all I hear. There’s something beautiful in front of me. From Greenland to infinity, and back again … What a day to be alive. She reads the note I have been carrying around for two weeks. The spring night gives me life, and Sara kisses me. What a day to realise I’m not dead. Love has rescued me. And I realise that this is my coming-out story.

  ‘Crimson and Clover,’ she says.

  ‘Over and over,’ I reply.

  HOME INUK

  1 May

  I’ve arrived at the prison. The walls, which I thought were low when I saw them from above, fence in the area like tall mountains. I discover that it’s impossible to escape. I recognise the distinctive smell and the feeling of suffering. I also discover that time hasn’t changed anything. I meet withdrawn inmates and lose all the strength I had mustered. I realise that I shouldn’t be here at all and that I’ll have to flee. But since you can’t just run away from an enormous prison, I need to draw up a plan. Because I have to escape and never come back. I look at the inmates that I’ll be living with. I can tell they’re so institutionalised that they stare at one another till they start to lose their minds. It frightens me. They stare at me and wait. They look at me like a pack of animals, ready to bite. They want to infect me, make me a mad dog too. Their eyes show that they’re desperate to see me suffer and they’ll laugh at me when, in anguish, I struggle to survive. A single mistake and I’m dead. If I’m going to make it, I need to sacrifice something. I sacrifice my soul.

  Inuk

  24 May

  Today is the day. Today’s escape attempt just has to be successful. The prison makes me want to puke. There’s an acidy smell in the halls because the inmates have begun to putrefy. They stink so bad that I feel quite sick. The mould has scarred my skin and caused swellings all over my body. I’m so nervous that I no longer register the stench from my armpits, which usually gives me a headache. I need air. Perhaps the inmates know because they are staring at me with more interest. I have to escape now. If not, they’ll humiliate me. If not, they’ll abuse me until I’m powerless. If not, they’ll rape me. When they’ve finished, they’ll murder me. Today is the day. The day when I run. The day when I am born.

  Inuk

  25 May

  The roads are unrecognisable. They don’t fence you in like tall mountains. The human beings aren’t inmates. Roads without walls replace the corridors. My lungs inhale unpolluted air. People here are wiser. They don’t look at me. They aren’t keeping an eye on me. They don’t want to hurt me. They don’t care about me. I breathe. I’ve escaped.

  I HAVE ESCAPED.

  Fugitive

  My dear sister

  Do you remember when I had a toothache while Mum and the others were out boating? Do you remember that we saw Free Willy and that I kept on falling asleep while you took care of me? I often wonder whether you felt responsible, whether you felt like a child or a grown-up when they left us alone. You’ve taken care of me ever since. I hope you’re fine. I’m sorry that I just vanished. I was afraid that your concern might prevent me from carrying out my plans, and I hope that one day you’ll understand. I’m in Copenhagen and I don’t know for how long. I can only be reached via this PO box. You know I never felt at home in Greenland and I had to escape. Arnaq might have told you; if she hasn’t, then don’t believe what you hear because it isn’t true. People have begun to talk shit because they have nothing else to talk about but they shouldn’t be trusted. Please understand that I’m not running away from you. I don’t want to talk about it right now; I only hope that despite the rumours you hear, you’ll believe what I say. If you’re tired of staying at Arnaq’s then feel free to move in to my apartment. Here’s the key. Don’t try to take care of me, it’s time for me to learn to take care of myself. I’ve got a place to stay. I’m so grateful to you for providing for me. If you think I’m making a mistake, just let me. You have to let me go. I’m sorry about our last meeting and what followed. I wish you the very best.

  Inuk

  1 June

  Now that I’m away from the rotting mould, my swellings are beginning to heal. There’s no longer any pus and the stinging areas are manageable. Sometimes, blood seeps out; it will stop soon. But it’s not healing properly at all: my swellings have formed scars and they’re very noticeable. People are beginning to see them. I loathe those scars, which I will have for the rest of my life and can’t bear to look at. I’m ashamed of them. I’m scarred for life. But I got out before the mould took me. I’m grateful for having escaped.

  Survivor

  My dear little brother

  I remember when I took care of you and you had a toothache. We would often watch Free Willy but it was Beethoven we watched that evening and I remember that you cried. I also remember when we watched the Kelly Family play in their band on TV, and you wanted to have long hair like them, but Mum would cut it every time because you were a boy. You’d have been so cute if you had long hair. I remember that I felt responsible when I babysat you. I never felt like a grown-up. I felt like an older sister. I was always so proud of having such a sweet little brother like you. I’m still proud of you and that will never change. Thank you for the key. I’ll take good care of your apartment till you’re back. I haven’t really talked to Arnaq lately because we’re both so busy. What’s happened? Your letter surprised me and I wish you could tell me a bit more so that I can help. Don’t apologise at all for our last meeting. I’m the one who should say sorry. There’s so much I need to tell you – we need to sit down and talk. I know that you can take care of yourself but I love you so much I can’t just pretend I’m not concerned. I’d feel so much better if you would just give me a call. I want to hear more about the incident you mentioned and to be allowed to explain our last get-together. Please call me.

  I love you so much. Take care.

  Your big sister,

  Fia

  3 June

  Today I went on Facebook because I couldn’t stay away any longer. I was terrified of looking at my messages but I did it anyway.

  Ivalo Løvstrøm:

  You’ve to
ld lies about my husband. I want you to admit publicly that what you said isn’t true.

  Arnaq:

  I’m sorry.

  Fia:

  Where are you?

  Little brother, I’m worried. Have you left?

  Give me a call. Now.

  The rumour is everywhere on my news feed. It’s worse than I thought.

  ‘OMG. Have you heard about Miki Løvstrøm? Maybe it’s true?’ 26 likes, 14 comments.

  ‘People with double lives shouldn’t be members of the Inatsisartut!’ 31 likes, 3 comments.

  ‘Our country is coming to a standstill! Our leaders are frauds.’ 7 likes, 21 comments.

  ‘Bloody queer.’ 16 likes.

  I wouldn’t have survived if I hadn’t escaped. But here they can’t touch me. Never again will I return to Greenland. Never again will I be holed up in prison again. Never again will I be walled up behind tall mountains. Never again will I call a Greenlander my fellow countryman. Never ever will I go back to live among the prison inmates. Because I’m ashamed to call myself a Greenlander.

  Refugee

  Dear Arnaq

  I’ve thought of writing to you for a long time but couldn’t find the words. But now I need a reply, which is why I’m writing to you. Please fill this out and send it back to me.

  1. Do you feel better when you say something that gets everybody’s attention?

  Yes

  Maybe

  2. Do you like to hurt other people?

  Yes

  No

  3. Do you think it’s funny to make fools of others?

  Yes

  Maybe

  4. Do you know what respect is?

  Yes

  No

  5. Have you ever been in love?

  Yes

  No

  6. If yes to question five, do you only love yourself?