by Janis Mackay
But Riku says he’s my best friend.
And I can visit Hannu and Saara.
Maybe, one day, I really could swim for Finland.
Chapter Twenty-nine
I only had three days left of my holiday. Soon it would be time to go back to school. But there was something to do first, something important. The tenth of August was the date. Three p.m. was the time written on the wedding invitation. I had handled that invitation so much that the red love-heart on it with the names ‘Saara & Hannu’ had my fingerprints all over it. Mum said she and Dad and Tuomas would really like to come with me. Part of me wanted to go alone but part of me wanted to go with my family. And that was a first. ‘Okay,’ I said. And it really was okay.
I wanted to wear my jeans and T-shirt, but Mum bought me a cool grey suit. It looked pretty good so I wore it. Tuomas said I looked fantastic. Dad said I was handsome – I had decided I would still call him Dad, even though now we all knew he wasn’t really. We drove down to the market-square harbour and parked the car, where the ferry for Suomenlinna was waiting. I wasn’t scared of ferryboats now. I saw how Mum bit her nails, though – she was terrified.
‘It’ll be okay,’ I said, smiling at her as we filed down the pier and over the ramp. It was a still day and the sea was smooth as glass. ‘It’s only a half-hour trip, Mum. You can always sit inside if you want.’ And that’s what she did.
Tuomas and I hung over the rails, ducking when the gulls dive-bombed. ‘When I first went to the Wild School,’ I told Tuomas, shouting over the chug-chug sound of the engine that we were right next to, ‘I was sick all over the place. You wouldn’t believe it. I felt like I was going to die.’
‘So did I,’ Tuomas yelled, his blond hair flopping over his eyes with the sea breeze. ‘I really thought I was going to die when you went to the Wild School.’
I ruffled his hair, but felt a lump in my throat. Just then a gull swooped down, screeching and trying to jab at a bit of sandwich that was on the deck. Tuomas grabbed hold of me for protection. ‘It’s okay, Tuomas,’ I said. ‘They’ll come pretty close but they won’t hurt you.’ I took him over to the other side of the boat so we could get away from the gulls, and see the island.
‘Island ahoy!’ Tuomas called out.
But it wasn’t the island I saw. I looked out to sea and straight into the yellow eyes of the black seal. ‘Look, Tuomas,’ I yelled. ‘Look at the seal.’ Tuomas cheered and waved to the seal. It nodded its head, then flipped back its tail fins and dipped under the water. ‘Maybe it’s going to the wedding too,’ I said.
The ferry blew its horn. I stroked the invitation in my pocket, and when the boat slowed down and chugged alongside the pier, putting down its ramp, Tuomas, me, Mum and Dad were the first to leave. We were caught up in a sea of people rushing from the ferry and onto the island. Soon, though, the crowd thinned out as people drifted off in different directions and it was just Mum, Dad, Tuomas and me, all looking really smart and walking up a dusty path that wound its way across the island. Mum was still looking a bit pale.
‘You survived,’ I said to her.
She nodded and smiled at me. ‘You’re right, Niilo. I survived.’ Then she sorted her hat and smoothed down her jacket and we all walked together over the cobbled path.
Suomenlinna is a strange place, full of forts, cannons and dungeons. The whole island is a fortress, or it was a couple of hundred years ago – now it’s a tourist attraction. We caught sight of cute little red love-heart cards stuck to stone walls, saying Saara & Hannu.
‘Look,’ Tuomas yelled. ‘That’s them!’ We followed the red love-heart cards under a stone archway, round by a little café and past a big church. It was like a ‘find the wedding’ game.
My heart was racing. I felt nervous and excited, and really glad I wasn’t on my own. ‘Looks like we’ll be there soon,’ Mum said, sounding a bit breathless from the walking uphill. ‘It’s so good he’s getting married. I want to thank him so much for finding you,’ she said, ‘and for being such a wonderful teacher to you. And a friend.’
‘Sixteen kilometres has got to be a record,’ Dad said. He was also puffing a bit – it was a pretty steep climb. But there were no cars on this island, just bikes and walkers. We marched over a bridge, Mum singing a little love song to herself, to ‘get in the mood’, she said. The whole island was quaint and historic, and singing in the street didn’t seem out of place.
We were heading for a place called Kuninkaanportii: King’s Gate. I took the invitation out for the umpteenth time and read the address, but of course I didn’t need to – I knew it off by heart. We were getting closer and I saw a few other people hurrying up the stone path that led to King’s Gate. I heard the sound of a guitar. The tune twanged out. We all heard it and slowed down at the same time.
‘Here it is,’ Mum said, and we all went through the huge stone archway that led into the gate. We came into an open green space surrounded by stone ruins. It looked gothic and might have been a great setting for a horror film, except all the white flowers everywhere made it beautiful – and romantic, Mum said. At the far end, near the ruins, there was a crowd of people, all in smart clothes. There were seats in rows and people were filing into the seats as the guitar played. ‘Let’s sit at the back,’ Mum murmured, and we all slunk into the last row.
At the front stood Hannu and Saara.
‘They look beautiful,’ Mum whispered.
The guitar music stopped and it looked like they were getting ready to speak a poem or something to each other – I’d never been to a wedding before. Hannu was wearing a cream-coloured suit and his dark hair hung loose past his shoulders. He and Saara were holding hands. Beside them stood a man in a white suit – maybe he was the priest? Hannu and Saara were speaking some words now, and their voices murmured over the crowd, but I couldn’t make out what they were saying. Then the guitar started again and I saw Hannu scan the crowd. He was looking for me, I know he was. Then he found me. He winked, and his face broke out into this huge smile as I smiled back.
‘He’s spotted us,’ Mum whispered and I grinned.
The wedding went on with poems and music and they swapped rings and people cheered, and I felt fine. After that part of the ceremony Hannu and Saara walked through the crowds of people. There was clapping and cheering as they began to speak to all their guests. Saara looked beautiful, like a queen with flowers in her hair and a flowing cream-coloured dress on.
Hannu made a bee-line for me. He shook my hand, shook hands with Mum and Dad and Tuomas, thanked us all for coming. Saara kissed me and said it was so great we could all come. ‘The honoured guest’, that’s what they called me.
After the ceremony we all took a walk in the King’s Garden. People drank wine, and me and Tuomas got sparkling grape juice. Hannu introduced me and Tuomas to his friends. The boss – Mr Stubble – was there from the Wild School. ‘It’s the boy who swam sixteen kilometres,’ I heard people say.
‘Yes, it’s Niilo,’ Hannu said, as though that said it all. ‘And with him,’ he added, ‘is his brother, Tuomas.’ People spilled confetti over Hannu and Saara and some of it fell over me. I felt like I was getting married too.
Maybe I was, in a way.
Chapter Thirty
The musicians struck up and the dancing began.
Saara danced with me and said I looked so handsome. Mum and Dad whirled around the dance floor. Tuomas found a girl his age to dance with. Lots of guests asked me to dance, and I managed it fine, even though I didn’t know much about dancing. Then in between dances people flocked round me and asked me about the island, and swimming, and making fire, and sleeping on my own under the stars, and was it true that I survived four days alone on an uninhabited island?
Time flew by. I almost forgot the presents. When there was a break in the dancing I found Hannu and Saara over by the chocolate and strawberry fountain. We dipped a few strawberries in chocolate and Hannu winked at me – I bet he was remembering the days we spent picking straw
berries. I was! I laughed, licked the chocolate off my fingers and fumbled about in my pocket.
I had two presents. I fished out the little book of poems called Arctic Sunrise from inside my jacket – Mum had suggested that. From another pocket I brought out the wooden carving I had found in a tourist shop in Helsinki. ‘These are for you,’ I said, ‘and Saara.’ Then suddenly I didn’t know what else to say. I glanced down at the little wooden seal and wished I had made it myself. I would make it much better, and I thought how when I went back to the Wild School I would make wooden seals in the woodwork studio. And I knew exactly what they would look like.
Saara took the seal and kissed me on the cheek. Hannu took the book. ‘I love this,’ he said.
I swallowed, then ran on with my prepared speech. ‘Um, congratulations, and I hope you two will be really happy.’
Then Mum appeared, all flushed from dancing, and told Hannu what a great influence he had been on me, and she wanted to thank him from the bottom of her heart. ‘I’ve got my beautiful son back,’ she said, and hugged me.
When the food had been eaten and the musicians took a break, a few people strayed outside to watch the moon over the sea. Saara was chatting with Mum and Dad and Tuomas. Hannu sat with me on a rock, looking out to sea. There were a few gulls around, hoping for crumbs.
‘Thanks for coming, Niilo,’ Hannu said. ‘It means a lot to me and Saara. And it is great to meet your family.’
I shrugged and wrung my hands together. ‘That’s okay,’ I muttered.
‘It’s more than okay, Niilo.’ Maybe it was the effect of the champagne, or it being his wedding day, but Hannu said how I was like the boy he had been – the one he had forgotten. I tried to imagine what that was like: you have a car crash and you lose your youth and all the memories of being young. ‘It’s like you are a part of me,’ he said. ‘And I don’t want to forget any more. I don’t wish for you to forget any more either.’
And I told him everything my mum had told me. About the boat accident, and my dad, and my twin brother. I told him their names: Nilse and Isku. And we stared out at the huge yellow moon glittering over the dark sea. It was like Nilse and Isku were there, swimming in the sea. Maybe they were swimming with the black seal. Maybe they were together in the great ocean holding hands – my dad, my twin brother, and the seal.
Behind us a door opened and the low rift of a saxophone reverberated over us. Then Hannu said, ‘You’re okay now, Niilo. Whatever happens now, you’ll be okay. You have your story. You know where you are from. And you survived four days on a deserted island. And you have made friends with a seal. You are getting on with your family. From now on in it just gets better.’
I laughed. I knew he was right. ‘I made friends with Riku too,’ I said.
‘That is so good,’ Hannu said. ‘He could do with a friend like you. And, you know, the Wild School isn’t so bad. As far as schools go, it’s pretty amazing.’
‘So, I should make the most of it, eh?’ I said, laughing. I had already decided that was exactly what I would do.
‘Hey, people,’ someone shouted from a group of guests that had drifted outside. ‘Come in and dance! They’re playing a midnight love song!’ Saara laughed and I saw her take my mum by the hand. I watched them head back to the restaurant, where the dancing was.
‘I’ll be with you soon,’ Hannu shouted back.
I wanted to keep this moment a bit longer. I could sense Hannu getting ready to stand up, so I blurted out, ‘Remember how you spoke about wild songs? You called them yoiks?’
‘That’s right,’ Hannu said. ‘I found my yoik. Now look at me, I just married the most beautiful woman in the world. How about that?’
‘I was thinking … how one day … I might go north. I might find some old Sami man to give me my yoik …’ I looked away and stared out to sea. I didn’t know I was going to say that. Now it seemed so real, like all along I had always been looking for my wild song. I imagined the future opening up ahead of me, like a deep adventure, winding far to the north.
‘I hope you do that, Niilo. This is just the beginning. You’ll travel far. You will find your wild song. I know it. Then you will help others to find theirs.’ He gestured to the dark sea ahead. ‘The Baltic could do with its song too.’
I stared out to the moonlit sea and thought of my island. I thought of the creepy hut, and the black seal. I thought of Tuomas and his ‘find my brother’ poster. I thought of my mum calling me her beautiful son. I thought of Dad saying how he would consider it an honour if I called him Dad. And I thought of the nightmare I had had for as long as I could remember, and how it had turned into a dream where a boy just like me tumbled down through the water, and turned into a black seal, and a man who drowned trying to save him somehow turned into a man called Hannu who came to work at the Wild School, with his stories, and his crazy notion of teaching me to swim in the sea.
‘Thanks, Hannu,’ I said, turning to look at him. ‘You really helped me.’
‘It works both ways, Niilo,’ Hannu said. ‘Thank you.’
And we sat like that for a few minutes longer, me and Hannu on a rock, listening to the deep song of the sea. Until a door swung open behind us and the sounds of the party spilled out into the night.
Saara stepped up behind Hannu and put her hands over his eyes. ‘Guess who?’ she whispered.
‘My wife,’ Hannu said, laughing.
Just then hands slipped over my eyes too. ‘And guess who?’
‘Mum,’ I said, and I laughed too. While Hannu and Saara walked back to the wedding party Mum sat down on the rock next to me. The moon was glinting silver on the sea.
‘It’s beautiful, Niilo,’ Mum said in a hushed voice. ‘I was always afraid of the sea, but it feels so peaceful.’
Just then my seal lifted its head from the water. It was a round black shape in the silver moon path. It made a low trumpeting noise and I heard Mum gasp. ‘It’s okay,’ I said. ‘It’s watching over us.’ Then another seal next to that seal lifted its head from the water. Now two seals were watching us. It felt like the spirits of Nilse and Isku. I was going to say that, but Mum said it first.
She spoke their names – the names she’d kept locked up inside her for years. ‘Nilse,’ she whispered. ‘Isku.’
It felt like a long time we sat there, me and Mum, gazing out at the two seals in the Baltic Sea. The words of Hannu’s song played in my head – everything was going to be all right. It really felt like that. Then the seals made one long, deep sound.
‘That’s their wild song,’ I murmured. Their song put a shiver right through me. Then the seals flicked back their tail fins and slipped under the water.
I got to my feet then and so did Mum. We turned away from the sea, and there were Dad and Tuomas, standing by the door of the restaurant. They were lit up with sparkling lights and waving to us. ‘Hey, Niilo!’ Tuomas called out. ‘Come and join the party!’
Me and Mum walked together over the grass towards the wedding party. ‘What do you say, Niilo?’ she said.
I looked at her and smiled. ‘Yes.’
A Big Thank You
I would like to warmly thank Creative Scotland for giving me a one-month writing residency on the island of Suomenlinna in Finland. Part of my task there was to foster literary links between Scotland and Finland in children’s literature. Finland boasts many vibrant bookshops and children’s publishers and is an inspiration in the world of children’s publishing. Thanks also to H.I.A.P. (Helsinki International Artist’s Project) for hosting and supporting me during this residency, and to the many wonderful Fins I met. Thanks also to Finnish storyteller Yvonne Karsten for reading several manuscripts of Wild Song, likewise to Rupert Jenkins. You are two very bright stars!
Finally thanks to my agent Kathryn Ross, and to the wonderful people at Piccadilly Press.
Author’s Notes
After reading Wild Song you might be interested to find out more about Finland and some of the themes touched upon in this book
. The following is a brief introduction to Finland, the Sami people (Laplanders) and also to the Finnish national epic, The Kalevala.
Finland
Finland is the most eastern of the Scandinavian countries with Russia to its east, Norway to the north and Sweden to the west. It sits on the Baltic Sea, with the Bothnian Sea to the west. For a long time Finland was under Russian and also at times Swedish occupation, only gaining independence in 1917. Finland has a population of 5.2 million and the southern city of Helsinki is the capital. It is a large country with thousands of lakes and islands and the most forested land in Europe. Finland is known for the midnight sun in the summer and Northern Lights in the winter, for Santa Claus, reindeer, rye bread, saunas, berries, ice and snow. Its national animal is the bear.
The Sami People
The Sami are the indigenous peoples of the Arctic. The area they live in, and have inhabited for over 2,000 years, stretches from the Kola area in the north of Russia and west across the north of Finland (through the region known as Lapland), and on through northern Norway and Sweden. In Finland there are different groups of Sami, numbering around 9,000 people. Amongst them there are the mountain Sami, the sea Sami, the lake Sami, the reindeer Sami and the river Sami. They speak several different languages. The traditional dress of the Sami – often brightly coloured and trimmed with fur, beading and embroidery – shows where a Sami person comes from. Traditionally the Sami people pursued a variety of livelihoods, such as coastal fishing, fur trapping and sheep and reindeer herding. But the traditional way of life for the Sami people is threatened by competing uses of land. If the government cuts down forests in a reindeer-herding area this destroys the reindeers’ habitat. Generations of Sami children were taken away to boarding schools in the past, and the effects of this are still being felt. Today the Sami way of life experiences cultural and environmental threats, including oil exploration in the Arctic, mining, dam building, logging, climate change, military bombing ranges, tourism and commercial development. In Finland today the Sami inhabitants have a right to maintain and develop their language and culture as well as their traditional way of life.