Meritta said she had come back to her hometown to paint because the surroundings were so exhilarating. The Tower projecting stoutly above the city and the underground mine shafts were perfect for her paintings. Tame versions of her work hung on the walls of city hall and the library, and the most presentable were even used in city brochures.
I remembered that she was about ten years my senior and had a child who was about fifteen years old. However, the child’s father, Mårten Flöjt, principal cellist for the Radio Symphony Orchestra, had dropped out of the scene several years before, when Meritta had returned to Arpikylä.
I had met Meritta a few times when her brother Jaska and I played in the same band, even though she had been studying at the Ateneum Art Academy in Helsinki at the time. Jaska had always acted sulky about his older sister, talking about how stuck-up she had gotten after getting accepted to the Ateneum. I doubted Meritta would remember me, but I thought I’d go say hi anyway. I’ll admit to being curious about meeting a woman whose opinions about so many things resembled my own.
The party was in full swing in the newly opened restaurant and in the courtyard, where Ella’s dance group was currently performing. I watched the performance purely out of obligation. When someone started playing a saw with a violin bow, I went inside to see if I could find anyone I knew.
One of the ore-milling buildings had been renovated to house the restaurant. A bar circled the inner wall of the fifty-foot-high hall, and later in the summer the developers intended to install a proper dance floor on the lower level. The idea was to turn the space into a kind of multipurpose gallery suitable for concerts and theater performances. The renovation and retrofitting work had to be burning ungodly amounts of money. I hoped Kivinen’s projections about the increased flow of tourists would pan out.
I found Matti and Johnny in a back corner on the lower level, chatting with Meritta and a fourth person who was concealed in the shadows. From a passing tray I grabbed a handful of potato chips and a glass of punch and made my way toward them. The light flooding in obliquely from the windows along the roofline fell directly onto Meritta’s dress, and for a moment she appeared to be engulfed in flames. Meritta laughed at something Johnny said, her voice ringing out over the drone of conversation and turning more than a few heads.
“Nice to see the sheriff here keeping us legal,” Matti said with a grin when I approached. “Do you know everyone else?” He turned to face the rest of the group.
“Johnny is an old friend, and how could anyone not know these lovely women,” I said, trying to sound playful.
“We’ve met before, haven’t we? You played in my brother’s punk band.” Meritta extended her hand. “Meritta Flöjt. I’ve been meaning to come pay a visit to our new lady sheriff. It’s a shame your post is only temporary.”
“Meritta wants more feminists around here to keep us men in line,” Matti said mockingly.
“Oh, the men around here aren’t all bad. Your uncle is a perfectly reasonable person.” It took me a few moments before I realized Meritta was talking about Pena. They were both on the city council. Meritta had been the first person from the Green Party ever to win a seat.
The fourth person in the entourage still hadn’t said a word, trying to hide between her cousin Johnny and the wall. The attempt at concealment was a little pathetic since Kaisa Miettinen was only an inch shorter than her six-foot-two cousin and stunningly handsome in her own right. For a javelin thrower, she was quite slim, which I guess was why the sports journalists had christened her the Javelin Fairy. Blonde curls extending to her shoulders and a shy smile emphasized her elfin, somehow sexless look. At least one person at Sports Update and another in the Helsingin Sanomat newsroom must have been infatuated with her, because news coverage about her was much more detailed than usual for female athletes. After winning silver at the previous summer’s World Championships, she had been named one of Finland’s best medal hopefuls for the European Athletics Championships in Helsinki and the Atlanta Olympics. I thought Kaisa would have been at her training camp by now.
Kaisa’s eyes were the same as Johnny’s: bluebell colored with flecks of gold surrounding the irises. At the same height and with similar slim, muscular builds, they could have been twins. But Kaisa was a good ten years younger than Johnny. Her eyes lacked the tired circles, and the laugh lines at the corners of her mouth disappeared with the smile that created them. Johnny, on the other hand, was looking more worn-out than usual.
“Couldn’t we finish the painting next week?” Johnny asked Meritta, apparently continuing the conversation my arrival had interrupted. “I promised to help my dad reroof his house this weekend. And Kaisa shouldn’t be letting her muscles stiffen up posing since she’s got the Grand Prix coming up.”
“Kaisa doesn’t have to pose, just you. I want to capture Kaisa in motion. For your portrait I want to show almost every follicle of hair on that beautiful body…” Meritta turned to me again. “I’m doing a series of panels I’m calling Apollo and Artemis, and Kaisa and Johnny are my models. Pretty perfect specimens, don’t you think?”
Both Johnny and Kaisa seemed self-conscious, so Matti and I turned the conversation to the renovation work on the Old Mine.
“I think the best thing is that we’ll get to go in the tunnels again,” Matti said. “The feeling down there is like nothing else I’ve ever experienced. You’ve painted down there, haven’t you, Meritta? Are those ones done yet? And what lighting did you use?”
“I used old mining lights called jack lamps. All of the paintings are in Helsinki on sale in my gallery. Strange I forgot to invite you to come see them before I shipped them off. I painted them almost right on the edge of the cave-in area, which gave everything an extra eerie ambiance. And I liked going down there just for the adventure,” Meritta said with a grin.
“Well you won’t catch me going down there,” Johnny said almost angrily. “You know the city had to close half a street and empty all the houses because the ground there is still slipping toward the shaft, right?”
“Of course I do. But that’s just one part. The rest of the tunnels are fine.”
“At least that’s what the geologists say,” Matti added. “Have the rest of you been down there?”
“In school,” Johnny, Kaisa, and I said nearly in unison. In ninth grade I went on a field trip to the mine with our guidance counselor. We had been told to bring rubber boots to school, and before we entered the elevator, the engineer leading the tour distributed yellow helmets to everyone. I was a little disappointed that the helmets didn’t have the headlamps I had seen in pictures.
Just the elevator ride a few hundred feet down the shaft turned the weaker-kneed students a sickly shade of green. Down below, the tunnel walls loomed in on us. The worst thing was the darkness. Even with the lights on you could still sense it. And then there was the silence, broken only by drips of water falling from the ceiling. Everyone automatically started whispering. And then from somewhere nearby came an explosive drilling sound, answered by another one farther off, making the walls seem to shake and the ceiling appear on the verge of crashing down…
I remembered resurfacing aboveground. The wind had felt deliciously dry, the sound of sparrows miraculous, the sun seemed brighter than it ever had been. The boys gaped at each other with looks of “I’m never working down there.” That night I called Uncle Pena and asked him how many years he had spent in the mine. When he answered more than ten, I hung up astonished.
Sounds of tinkling glasses came from the swarm of people near the bar. A moment earlier Seppo Kivinen had walked past us and climbed the stairs, and now he stood stiff as a statue in his copper-colored suit.
His unamplified voice echoed in the cavernous room. “Ladies and gentlemen! Friends! I thought I wouldn’t have to say anything tonight, that this amazing space would do the talking for me, but c’est la vie…I would just like to say how truly happy I am to see the Old Mine full of people and life again. The ore under these hills has broug
ht wealth to Arpikylä for more than eighty years now, and despite a recent small hiccup, I believe it will again. I grew up here, at the base of the Tower in fact, in the subsidence area on Lavakatu. My father worked in the mine for thirty-seven years. I hope the reopening of the mine tunnels and the museum can serve as a tribute to him and everyone like him, whose work and sweat built this town. A toast to those brave men!”
Kivinen seemed genuinely moved. Meritta was biting her lip, but I wasn’t quite sure whether she was touched or amused.
“I’m empty…” Matti said, staring at his glass glumly. “Shall I bring everyone another round?”
“No, I have something I need to take care of,” Meritta said and vanished right after Matti left for a refill. Suddenly I was glad Kaisa was there with Johnny and me. Talking about sports was easy, and Kaisa didn’t seem so shy anymore.
“I prefer training here at home,” she said. Her perfectly preserved country dialect was in cheerful contrast to the rest of her polished image. “There ain’t no traffic here, and the field and weight room are always free. And especially now, with the games here in Finland, it wouldn’t make no sense going to Portugal or somewhere and getting my muscles too used to being warm.”
“I’ve been helping out as a sort of assistant coach lately, since Kaisa’s real coach lives down south in Vantaa and can’t be here all the time,” Johnny said. “Or at least I operate the video camera so Kaisa can watch footage of her throws later.”
“I could probably only throw it twenty meters,” I said. “How far can you send it, Johnny?”
“Have you seen my mom?” a young, angry voice suddenly asked from behind Kaisa. When the speaker came into view, I saw a frighteningly skinny girl; a shaved head and baggy sportswear emphasized the concentration camp prisoner look.
“I left my fucking keys at home. Johnny, don’t you have keys to our place?”
“Why would I?” Johnny seemed genuinely bewildered.
“Mom always gives one to the guys she screws. There’s gotta be dozens of keys to our house strewn across the world. Aren’t you up to bat right now?”
“What the hell are you talking about, Aniliina! I just model for your mom.”
“Oh come on. I’m not blind. Never mind, I see the bitch now.”
With that, Aniliina strode off toward the exit, where Meritta was caught up in the crowd. We couldn’t hear their exact exchange over the buzz of conversation, but it was clearly angry.
“Johnny, are you in a relationship with Meritta?” Kaisa asked suddenly, intensely, as if her life depended on his answer.
“Come off it, Kaisa. Of course not. I just—”
A high-pitched scream from Aniliina cut off Johnny’s sentence. “Eat shit, bitch!”
When we turned to look, we saw her with two fists full of Meritta’s hair, pulling as hard as she could. Aniliina’s shirt was stained with punch, as if Meritta had emptied her glass on her daughter. The chatter in the restaurant had ceased, and people stared in bewilderment at the Flöjt domestic dispute, which to a law enforcement officer looked out of hand. Forcefully pushing my way through the crowd, I shook Aniliina free of her mother. The girl was alarmingly light—she couldn’t have weighed more than ninety pounds.
“Get the fuck off me. I’m gonna kill that bitch,” she snarled at me.
“I’m not giving you the keys unless you bring them back,” Meritta hissed.
“Borrow one from one of your man-whores! And you let me go, goddamn it. Who do you think you are?”
“She’s a cop,” Kaisa said surprisingly loudly from just behind me. “Why won’t you bring the keys back, Aniliina?”
“I want to go for a walk in the woods.”
“I’ve got my bike. I’ll take you and I can bring the keys back to Meritta. OK?” Kaisa asked.
“If this pig will let go of me.”
With that I released Aniliina, who was still dripping punch. She put out her hand to receive the keys from her mother, then loped down the stairs with Kaisa trailing after. With a snort, Meritta shrugged, making the heart-shaped copper earring hanging from her left ear bounce, and continued her conversation with the mayor as if nothing had happened.
Suddenly feeling like I didn’t belong, I walked out onto the terrace. The tailing field at the base of the hill glowed an intense copper color in the light of the setting sun, and the small pond in the center sparkled like sweet red wine. The colors were right out of a surrealist painting. Comparatively, the natural colors of the birch trees on the slopes of the hill where the mine buildings stood looked as if they had escaped from another piece of art entirely.
I wondered whether there was anything to what Aniliina said, whether there really was something between Meritta and Johnny. And what if there was? I wasn’t going to be jealous of a crush I had fifteen years ago, was I?
I wondered how much Meritta would charge for the paintings of Johnny. And what Antti would say if I hung one on my wall. Then I started thinking about which wall would be best. Suddenly my old bandmate Jaska appeared at my side.
“Can I offer the sheriff a drink?” he asked, pulling a bottle of cheap vodka out of his antediluvian leather jacket.
“Why not.” Tipping the bottle back, I took a good swig, wondering how many bottles of vodka just like this we had emptied together. “Table vodka”—the absolute cheapest, strongest liquor the state store sold—had always been his drink of choice.
“So, Uncle Jaska, can you tell me why Meritta and Aniliina aren’t getting along?”
Jaska took a gulp from the bottle and wiped his mouth before answering.
“Hard to say which one of them is crazier. Aniliina has that eating disorder, anorexia, I guess. And Meritta has always been horrible. If only she would have stayed in Helsinki.”
Jaska hadn’t bothered putting his party clothes on. His perennial punk rocker uniform—tight, worn-out jeans, leather jacket, and dirty sneakers—had to do for every occasion. With his dark hair now significantly receded and his beer belly hanging over his waistband, Jaska’s skinny legs made him look insect-like. When we had first seen each other again, his face was the thing that frightened me most. It was so badly swollen that his previously cute brown eyes appeared to sink deep under folds of skin. My old classmate looked at least forty.
“What are you annoyed with her for? Didn’t your sister get you a job here?”
“Why does she always have to stick her nose in my business! Yeah, she got me a job working for nothing, wearing a tie, sitting in a little box tearing people’s tickets. I’m stuck there for at least six months since I lost my unemployment. And I haven’t been able to book any gigs lately.”
“Oh, what band are you with now?”
“I play with Johnny and those guys sometimes. And this band in Liperi wants me to join them. They play some kind of heavy metal…”
As long as I could remember, Jaska had always been in some band or another, each better than the last, and once he had almost landed a recording deal. But nothing ever came of it. Jaska’s greatest achievement seemed to be a blurry picture in the bottom-left corner of a free calendar of summer concerts that came with a subscription to Sound magazine.
“Johnny said you guys were talking about getting together for a jam session.” Jaska pushed the bottle at me again, but I shook my head. I was pretty sure the town’s unwritten code of conduct did not include female sheriffs appearing drunk in public. Jaska, on the other hand, drained about a quarter of the bottle, which went down without so much as a burp.
“And I sure as shit don’t want to be working for my sister’s lover even if the rest of town thinks he’s some sort of miracle man. This mine business is bullshit—I can feel it in my bones.”
“You mean that Meritta and this Kivinen guy…” For some reason this revelation delighted me.
“Have you seen his old lady? It ain’t no wonder he’s screwing around. And you know Meritta…”
“What about me?” Meritta’s orange dress appeared next to me, a
nd I turned to see Seppo Kivinen standing behind her in his copper-hued suit. Without a word, Jaska suddenly took off running. Meritta’s derisive laughter seemed to propel him even faster down the hill.
“How drunk is he?” Meritta asked.
“How often is he sober nowadays?” I asked in return. I didn’t like Meritta laughing at him.
“Never, as far as I know. By the way, have you two met yet? Seppo Kivinen—Maria Kallio, our summer sheriff.”
Kivinen’s handshake was cold and firm. His eyes locked into mine in an attempt to appear interested. He clearly chose his topic of conversation according to his company, which in my case was the security arrangements at the mine. Before long the governor and mayor came over and I was able to escape.
I would have liked to climb back up the Tower, but the door was locked. The iron surface of the heavy door handle felt cold to the touch. A lighthearted, old-fashioned fox-trot was playing inside the restaurant, which seemed to clash with the threatening rock wall of the Tower and the unreal yellow of the hill’s gravel. I wondered about Jaska, Aniliina’s bizarre behavior, and Johnny’s tired face. I didn’t feel in a very festive mood anymore. But I marched back inside, finding Ella and Matti near the door. They seemed to be arguing over which of them should go relieve Ella’s mother from babysitting at home.
“They’re leaving tomorrow morning to drive to Tampere, and you promised I could stay for the party,” Ella said, clearly furious.
“Couldn’t she sleep at our place just as easily? I don’t want to leave yet either—”
“Well, you can call and ask!” she said before turning her attention toward me. “Maria, think carefully before you get yourself a man and have kids. Everything has to be so damn complicated!” Ella angrily fingered the brooch on her folk costume. “Men are always trying to wriggle out of promises…”
Copper Heart Page 4