Helsinginkatu 10 – 32. Memories with an ex wife

Is Juha at home? Is he alright? I thought this was the best way to make it look like I was ignoring her bruised eye. “No, he had to go!” How is his book going? Has he started working on the final phase? “He has problems with his ex-wife; she’s crazy I’m telling you!” She was ready to start crying, “She’s totally crazy, she’s asking him to go back home but you have no idea what sort of woman she is!” I decided not to say anything!

“She’s from the countryside, you have no idea how hard the women are from the countryside, she’s from somewhere east, you know the Russian side and she thinks that she owns him!” Now she was really in tears, “He wants to see his kids and she never lets him and now she moved back to her place, a very small place and she never lets him see them!” Yes I know what small places mean in Finland. I always found it difficult comparing my country with Finland. Finland is six times the size of my country and has the population of the capital. A post office, a bank, a pub and a grill kiosk constitutes a town in Finland and when they talk about a small place usually they mean a place that has all the above and lacks the bank. I’m not sure if it gets smaller and is still called a town.

“She’s torturing his soul!” she said and her eyes were wide open it was like she could see it. “And the only thing he wants is to write his book!” I wanted to say something here but I decided to keep quiet, “What’s wrong with that? Why can’t she leave him alone?” Have you met her, Leena? “Of course not, I told you she moved somewhere east, that’s why he had to go! If he wants to see his kids he has to go over there and that means that I can see him only for a few days!” Leena was sobbing now, “I hate her!” she said loud and I kept quiet. “He likes you, you know!” I have to admit that improved my spirits!!! If Juha likes me what more do I want from life! “He thinks that you have a contact, that’s how he called it!” Yes the first contact I just didn’t know who was the alien!

It took another half-an-hour and a couple of more cups of coffee for Leena to feel better and decide to go home and somehow get ready for work. I had a hundred scenarios in my mind none of them good for Juha and I started wondering how his ex looks like! I have experience of exes and I know how bitchy they can get. When I was in college I did the mistake a lot of us have done to fall for a girl desperately and believe that the only way to be together was to commit our selves for eternity. Of course the eternity lasted very little and the bitter feelings for ever. And after the divorce she had bitter and bitchy in an extreme way I have to admit confirmed that I will never understand women. A few years after our divorce she got married again but she always kept in contact with me and she had this strange attitude of checking on me, checking on my girlfriends and always trying to get involved in my life.

When she found out that she was pregnant for the first time she called me first on her way out of the doctor and she actually said that she prefers to share the happy news with me instead of the wanker who calls himself her husband! Once she called a girlfriend of mine to check on her and warn her that if she will not be nice with me she would be in serious trouble. The amazing thing was that every time we met after the divorce we manage to end the briefest encounter into a huge argument calling each other names. The more amazing thing was that while married we never, absolutely never, had an argument. I think the worst argument we ever had had to do with the English education system and why I thought the German is better; you see she was English and teacher.

But as I said before, after the divorce she became a real bitch and this has nothing to do with checking my girlfriends only, after the divorce I went home for the last time to pick some of clothes and I found them packed in black plastic rubbish bags. I was somehow happy that in the end we could have a nice separation and probably remain friends, after all we had spent our youth or at least our first adult years together, so I picked the bags and I returned to my place to find out that all my clothes had been cut into small pieces! I’m not joking and the only thing that made me feel better was the thought of how many hours she had spent doing all this work, probably it was the first time in her life she actually had to work hard for something!

There are just too many stories about my ex-wife and I think I could spent hours saying all these stories, you see time always heals the bitter parts and what remains is the funny side of all these, perhaps a lot of self sarcasm as well. Thinking about it I think it all had to do with how young we were, we somehow grew up together and in the end we found out that we weren’t made it for each other but the same time we had commit ourselves into a marriage life. And the divorce had been a very difficult project that had lasted for years; you see apart from all the other problems we had to have the Archbishop of Canterbury to sign the damn divorce! Long story I will explain another time!

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Read all the Helsinginkatu 10 chapters in order, HERE!

The son of vengeance – X

Rain lashed against the grimy window of the dingy motel room. The older man slammed his fist on the table. “There’s a kid. Skinny little thing, keeps following me. I know; I can feel it in my bones.” The tall one, scoffed. “Probably a stray cat, skittish in this weather. You know how it is in this small places.”
“Växjö is not small,” the older man murmured quietly.
“Blimey man, what happened here? Turning local in the old age,” the tall guy said laughing and looking at the rain outside the window.

“No, no. I’m sure. I keep catching him out of the corner of my eye. Lurking in doorways, watching from alleyways.” The older man rubbed his calloused hand across his brow, anxiety twisting in his gut. His line of work wasn’t exactly conducive to fans.

Across town, the dark haired boy huddled beneath a dripping awning. His thin frame trembled, not entirely from the cold. He’d been tailing the two men for days. The men who’d stolen his father’s life. He shook his head. No time for grief time for resolve and the boy had a plan, a risky one but he needed help.

The next morning schools were off, some kind of county teachers’ meeting in the city and kids in a break. The rain was still there however subsided into a cold drizzle. The boy positioned himself outside a cafe where he’d spotted the two men entering earlier. A different one this time. A smaller cafe in Sandgärdsgatan, not far from the police headquarters.

The boy took a deep breath and opened the door, a tremor of fear running through him. The bell jingled. Heads turned.

A voice, gruff yet kind, cut through the silence. “Lost, son?” Officer Carl Nisson, a friendly-faced cop with a worn leather jacket, stood beside him. Shame flooded the boy. He couldn’t tell the truth, not yet.

“Just looking for my dad,” he mumbled, hoping the officer wouldn’t press.

The cop’s eyes softened. He knew the boy and he knew his dad. He was dead, murdered, not long ago. Officer Carl Nisson sighed deeply.

“Yes, this is his place,” he murmured avoiding past tense or any mention of death. “Here, have some hot cocoa. Warm you up.” He added nodding at the woman behind the counter.
The boy felt uneasy with the two men sitting just meters away but saying no word he sat next to the police officer looking at the cu hat had just landed in front of him.

The boy sipped the sweet drink next to Officer Carl Nisson and the two thugs on the other side of the room when a plan B flickered in his mind.

“Officer,” said the boy getting closer to the policeman, “I saw a suspicious guy this morning. He looked like…” and he described the older man hoping that the description and the knowledge of the fact of who the boy was would trigger something. At least make the officer look around.

Officer Ramirez’s brow furrowed and instinctively looked around. But it was more from worry than interest. “Hold on a second, son and calm down. I know who you are and I know who your father was,” he said softly. “But you cannot go around accusing people for something like that. Let the police do the work and we know what we are doing.” The man said and looked at the young boy with real pain.

“Drink your cocoa and then go back home.” And wit that he stood up. “And me, well I have some robbers to catch,” he added smiling. The boy looked at the thick man exit the cafe and then he felt the two men staring at him. He put on his jacket fast and almost run outside. Time for plan C.

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Read all The son of vengeance chapters in order, HERE!

Midmedia express – Part 8.

The train came to a stop, jolting him out of his reverie. Gunnar observed across the alley a man staring at him and whispering something to a skeletal thin woman next to him.
Had they recognized him?

He stood up as soon as the doors opened and glanced at his kPhone. He had five earth hours to go. Steeped out and run for the station’s exit. At the exit he stepped into a drone and told the screen to take him to Byram Core.
“Where in Byram Core, sir,” the robotic voice asked.
“Station,” he almost screamed.

The screen didn’t say anything more except flashing a warning about seatbelts. After Gunnar locked his the drone started taking off. Gunnar frowned wondering if it had been a signal. If the robo-dronepilot had reported of him. He thought there was something about that voice. He felt that there was something familiar he couldn’t pinpoint.

“Let me out here,” Gunnar said. The robo-dronepilot didn’t show surprise or any other reaction to his sudden decision and after charging his card the door opened upwards. Gunnar began walking down a narrow road that curved through spare parks. In the edges of Byram Core and he could already feel the privileges of the rich and famous. Perhaps one day he will live her, he thought but let the thought vanish inside his worries.

There was a heavy drone approaching in low orbit. Gunnar kept walking but the track drew closer. He heard a voice from the kPhone in his pocket. It cried, “Watch out!”

Gunnar flung himself into the ditch feeling the cold air of the heavy truck careened millimetres over to where he was walking before. And it didn’t go far. It stopped just meters away and the pilot opening his door started shouting, “There he is! Shoot, T’dizd, shoot!”
Yellow and orange rays clipped leaves from the trees as Gunnar sprinted into the park.

Running like mad he could still hear the driver shouting, “T’dizd, H’srov, go around with the spare. We got him boxed.”
Gunnar checked his kPhone, bright yellow letters on black background, “You are boxed Gunnar, you are fucked!”

Gunnar ran through the park and found himself on a concrete highway with open spaces all around him. One of the killers was trotting through the park just behind him while the truck was heading for the other side of the highway coming fast towards him from the opposite side.

Lights were approaching for another direction. Another drone flying low. Gunnar ran into the highway waving frantically. The drone came to a stop just over him.
“Hurry,” cried a purple woman from inside the drone while lowering it and opening the side door.

Gunnar dived in. The purple woman made a sudden u-turn. A ray hit the windshield. She pushed the stick and flew fast away from the truckers’ fire range.  Gunnar leaned back and shut his eyes tightly. The woman kept focus on her flying and the truckers on her screens. “Lucky Gunnar, plunked again from the jaws of death thanks to a woman. Never underestimate Gunnar’s charm,” the text was flashing on the screen in front of him. The same exactly text appeared on is kPhone.
He didn’t feel lucky.

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Helsinginkatu 10 – 31. Panathinaikos and a bruised eye

I have problems with waking up in the morning and I have had this problem all my life. I think I have mentioned it before, so when my doorbell rings at seven thirty in the morning it is not the best time for me, especially since I hadn’t had my morning cigarette. For a strange reason when your doorbell rings so early your mind automatically goes to the worst case scenario and you just jump out of bed in a hysterical condition expecting to hear that the sun has exploded and you have ten minutes to get your towel and start running!

Obviously somewhere the sun had exploded because Leena was standing at my door and she looked somehow …strange! It took me a few minutes to realize what was strange about her but I said that I didn’t have my morning cigarette yet. I told her to wait a bit while I put on a pair of trousers and then put the kettle on for some instant coffee. I suppose my face was saying everything so she kept quiet till I had my first cigarette and half of my coffee and then she looked at me like waiting for the question and this is when I noticed her bruised eye! “Jesus Leena, what happened?” I’m an atheist but for a strange reason I say quite often as a few have pointed out Jesus or god! “A small accident in the toilet last night!” Why they always use the same excuse is a mystery to me but I didn’t want to say something, I thought that if she wanted to say something it would be better if she said it herself without feeling any pressure.

“Sorry to wake you up, did you have a late night?” Actually I did but I was sure not for the reasons Leena was thinking. I had a late night because I was listening on the radio to a late sports programme. I think I must explain soon my relationship with sports here. In general I am what was called back in seventies intellectual but not the strong type at least that’s how others cast me; whether I like it or not I have a dark side or that’s how I see it. A side that often surprises my friends who cannot understand what the hell I’m doing and it has often become the centre of our conversation. Over the years most of them have accepted it and it has turned to be the company’s joke and my dark side is football and basketball. I love football and basketball and yes there is a team I have followed since I remember myself.

I suppose the choice of the team has to do with my father, he was supporting the same team and we had been together to a couple of games. The name of the team is Panathinaikos and yes I am even member of the fan club, their forum and I’m even thinking the possibility of a tattoo with the symbol of the team, a green clover! Please stop laughing the thing is pretty serious because one of the major things I miss since leaving from Greece is to be at the stadium on a Sunday afternoon watching my favourite team and yes I am all you imagine.

When my team plays I scream my head off, I get angry and frustrated and I’m lucky I haven’t met any of the referees yet because I had some ideas on what they should do with their whistle. The same when it comes to basketball and I’m really proud Panathinaikos has five stars decorating the basketball team’s jerseys. Five stars means five European cups and I definitely want them to take more.

When I lived in Greece I had season tickets for both sports even if I had the chance to go only for two or three maximum games and when I started living abroad most of the time I bought season tickets for the times I would go back to Greece. I wanted always to have the luxury to watch a game without having problems to find a ticket. But please don’t think that I’m some kind of hooligan or that I don’t enjoy football or basketball in general. I love the world cup and I feel the same for the European champions’ league, I feel angry because Finnish television never shows a single basketball euro-cup game and if Panathinaikos plays I’m listening on the radio!

There is a radio show late at night, between midnight and three in the morning and some nights I follow it while I do other things like writing or drawing and the night before I had done the same thing and since adrenaline was in maximum due to football. I had gone to bed sometime around four, so when Leena appeared at my door seven thirty in the morning wasn’t my best moment! But her bruised eye changed everything very fast and I was totally focus to what she was saying, what she was trying to say and what her body language was saying.

Leena was not saying anything, actually she was ready to talk about anything else than what she really had in mind, I was sure that she would even start a conversation about Panathinaikos if I wanted just to avoid what she should talk about. What she was trying to say was that she was hurt, insecure, scared and didn’t know what to do! I have read quite a lot about domestic violence and the victims psychic to know a few things and see how fragile she was feeling and how ready she was to blame herself for whatever happened the night before. Her body language was a nervous wreck, biting her nails and not knowing what to do with her hands every so often touching her hurting eye. Her eyes were really red obviously she had been trying and she couldn’t focus anywhere just looking everywhere around. The strong coffee was not going to help and I didn’t know what to do!

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Read all the Helsinginkatu 10 chapters in order, HERE!

The son of vengeance – IX

“My dad is very optimistic,” the boy with the darker hair said to the boy with the lighter hair sitting on the other side of the table with two chocolate drinks and cinnamon bans between them.
“He said it’s a matter of time before he makes an arrest.”
“Polisinspektör Mikael Hansson is a very clever man,” the boy with the lighter hair squealed between bites and quick sips.

The two men were there and it had been a long day waiting for the boys to come. They didn’t come in the morning or at noon’s break. Obviously they came after school on their way home but the old man and the taller one had sent al their day patrolling in front of the cafe, walking up and down Krononbergsgatan and Storgatan checking who’s coming and who’s going from the cafe.

The tall man was getting tired and he was not hiding it. The older man knew that patience is plays a key role in their profession. After all and best proof, he was still alive; he thought and smiled when he crossed Krononbergsgatan for the sixth time that morning.

But the boys came. And the old man was there coincidentally with the tall man in his company. They were also lucky to sit just behind the boys with full hearing to every word the boys said.

“The robberies?” the boy with the lighter hair asked.
“The murder.” The other boy answered. “Dad is sure that they are still here.”
“Really?”
“He said that they are waiting for thing to calm down before run.”
“Wow.”
“He says he know how these scumbags think. The police are watching trains, buses and highways so they stay here for the police to get tired or other crimes come.”
“We are not the capital,” the boy with the lighter hair said cheekily and they both smiled while taking sips form the drinks.
“Dad says criminals are stupid,” the boy with the dark hair said and the other boy agreed with a nod.

The two boys tried not to run even though that’s all they wanted and when they reached the end of the square far from the cafe and the two men’s eyes, they stopped took a deep breath and laid back at the wall of the building.

“Gosh, the last time he passed in front of the cafe, I thought that he saw us.” The boy with the lighter hair said.
“They are stupid.” The boy with the dark hair answered.
“I can’t believe it, they haven’t seen us all day following them.”
“Criminals are stupid,” said the boy with the dark hair and then they both left for their houses. They were already late and school had finished two hours earlier. “We need more,” the older man said when the boys left. “We need more information and this boy is the only way to get it.
“A boy?” The tall man looked at him in wonder and anguish. “A boy?” He repeated his question. “Does the boss know?”
“The boss knows what he needs to know and we need to get out of this mouse trap. Can you understand that?
“What mouse trap?”
“Didn’t you hear the boy? The police are watching trains, buses and highways.”
“They have no description of the car or us.”
“You don’t know what they have…” The older man said and he stood up. “I’m going for a walk, I need to think.” And saying that he walked out of the cafe leaving the tall man thinking that perhaps time had come to move to a pub. He also needed to do some thinking.

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Read all The son of vengeance chapters in order, HERE!

Helsinginkatu 10 – 30. Helena’s returning home

I have to admit that this is not the first time I hear similar stories but till now it was always from men and that somehow makes it different, coming from a woman especially a woman who carried a young baby made much difference and the first time I heard all the details I got really angry. Thankfully Antti was just as angry as his family and especially the sister that seemed to lead the campaign that targeted Helena.

In the beginning they had a lot of family fights and later Antti isolated his family and I mean Helena and their daughter from his family and especially his neighbouring sister but of course this just made things more difficult. The same time Helena’s family was exactly the opposite, even though Helena is coming from a very small village in northern Greece and married a foreigner is not exactly the trendy thing in that area they really embraced the new son and during the first two years they visited often their daughter in Finland trying to do everything possible to help including a big financial help and all that not been able to communicate straight with their son who didn’t speak Greek and they didn’t speak English or any other foreign language. You see Helena was their only child and her living so far away was a very strong hit for them.

So when Helena said that they had decided to head back home I had no doubt that she meant it and that it was for good. You see all these small details in life can make you never feel home and Antti’s family attitude never let her feel that she was home, her home remained somewhere, anywhere in Greece as long she was far away from the situation she had to deal with for so long in Finland. “Two months, and dad has a job for Antti, he actually thinking to make him partner!” Helena’s father owns a car mechanics place and I suppose an engineer with Antti’s experience could fix anything however simplistic I might sound this minute. But most of all they both would have the peace and quiet they wanted so much.

Antti had fallen in love with Helena’s village in Greece and I suppose the sense of the worm summers near the sea and the mild winters made his decision even easier. I could see it in Helena’s eyes how relieved she was, somehow all the frustration of the last years had come out and the decision had worked with her. So I told her everything about Leena and the blood ring man! I had to talk about it with somebody and that moment Helena seemed to be the perfect person. Her coming change of life had obviously cleared her mind of everything negative and perhaps she could add something to the puzzle I had in front of me!

“He’s bullshitting all the way!” that was her comment when I finished! “You better stop bothering because he’s bullshitting her and she’s obviously going for it, asking for it!” my wanker-magnet theory! “Oh come now, you can sense that there is something wrong with the whole thing, but not the mysteries you suspect, I think things are much simpler and after he will use her for a bit she will find out and everything will return to normal until the next wanker of course!” Helena sounded reasonable and the coffee was good so I tried to forget the whole thing and we returned to her plans for the big return. Helena’s parents were in seven clouds with the news, they told them the night before, and they were already looking for a house for them not very close to their own after Helena’s instructions. The same time she told them that she was expecting another member for the family which made them absolutely thrilled with the opportunity to have their grandkids around them.

Three hours after I had forgotten the whole blood ring case, I kissed Helena goodbye wishing to see her and Antti before they leave for Greece and started heading back home, Marc had long gone from the centre and as usual I sat in the metro reading my book and isolating myself into my little world the book was leading me in. I was reading a book about self awareness of a post punk guru! Ok the things I read are weird and I have this strange thing not be able to read one book but reading three or four the same time. To answer the question if I get confused, the answer is never and the very few times I had only one book it caused me a problem because I found it …boring doesn’t matter how interesting it really was. That period I was reading as usual four books, one was a thriller, the second a history book about WWII, the guru book and an essay about kids with psychological problems! And it has always been like that, me reading a couple of non fiction book, a fiction and then an adventure or thriller. In this case the non fiction ones were winning but that had to do with Elias’ insisting that this guru’s book was a must read one!

And everything went fine till I got to the mall stop in the east side of Helsinki when a group of drunks entered the metro making a lot of noise and obviously smelling disgustingly. I have talked before about this alcohol culture in Finland and I have said it before that it never stops shocking me especially when it somehow invades a place where there are kids around like a public transportation especially this time of the day when a lot of kids return home from school.

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Read all the Helsinginkatu 10 chapters in order, HERE!

Midmedia express – Part 7.

Gunnar stood up miraculously engorged and took another sword from the pile standing on the side of the pit. Then he went over the neck again with his eyes closed.

The god who protects children and fools must have been watching, for the sword slid in like a needle through butter and the Elephine looked startled, stared at him unbelievably and dropped like a deflated balloon.

They paid him ten thousand credits and his collar bone healed in practically no time. More mail including a passionate invitation from an Aorian girl in New Bayou, which he ignored.
And they asked him to appear on another show.

By then he had lost some of his innocence. He was now fully aware that he had almost killed for pocket money. The big loot lay ahead. Now he wanted to be almost killed for something worthwhile.

So he appeared on Steam, sponsored by Fry Skinners. In head helmet, respirator, gravity belt and knife, he slipped into the warm waters of Crosk’s moon with four other contestants, followed by a force field protected crew.

The idea was to find and bring up the treasure the sponsor had hidden there.

Helmet diving isn’t special hazardous. But the sponsor had added some frills for public interest. The area was sown with giant spiderlike clams, Cromos eels and of course several kinds of flesh eater full of teeth giants with many poisonous tentacles and other dangers of the galaxy’s waters.

It was a stirring contest. A lizardoid from Camer II actually found the treasure early in a deep crevice but a Cromos eel found him. Another diver took the treasure from the dying Camerian and a spiderlike clam took him.

The odd pink green water became cloudy dark blue with the blood of the Camerian which rolled well on the streaming services. In the meantime the treasure slipped to the bottom and Gunnar plugged after it popping a glove in the process. Ten meters form the top he had to fight another diver for the treasure.

They feinted back and forth with their knives. The purple creature struck, slashing Gunnar across the chest. But Gunnar with the self-possession of an old contestant dropped his knife and tore the man’s respirator out of his helmet.
That did it.

Gunnar surfaced and presented the treasure at the standing by floating ship. It turned out to be an airtight canister with Fry Skinners hot sauce. ‘The greatest treasure of all’ according to the sponsor’s network message.

That netted Gunnar twenty-two thousands credits in cash and prizes and over a thousand of fan mails and a new proposition from a girl from Glasr, which he seriously considered. He received free hospitalization for his knife slash and a burst eardrum plus injections for poison water infection. But best of all he was invited to appear on the biggest of the streaming shows. Risk.
And that was when the real trouble began.

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Blood Bayou – Part 06.

I must have looked at him as if he had just taken a live Thrimworm out of his pocket. He sat there with a proud smile all down the front of his ugly face.

“Cold T’Jinj is dead.” I said. “Dead. Period. They got him after the flats arrested Quiet Con and locked him in Raven. Big chase in the Nebula, lots of ray exchange, boom, Cold T’Jinj dead. Period, Liam.”
“Yeah, I heard the story. Quiet Con arrested and all that. Poor sod, he was an easy rap.” He said holding a smile on his face.

“Your story is fine, minor one small detail, dear Jon. Pal Jon. Boom never happened.” His smile got wider. Liam enjoyed knowing something I didn’t.
“Chase happened, ray exchange happened, boom didn’t. What happened was flats inside Cold T’Jinj seriously damaged boat and then a dark cell in Raven. For eight and a half earth years. And then he got out. Free. And he decided to take it easy for a while. Dark cells in Raven are not a jolly holiday experience. Only flats couldn’t let him enjoy it for long. Flats thought he could be their man inside while some boys he had met in Raven had other dreams for good old Cold T’Jinj. And then one day while feeling the pressure from both sides Cold T’Jinj reads in the net about Big Zzryd, the king of the smugglers got caught in Galeran. Fire girls’ house, they said. I know what you are thinking…”
I nodded.

“I thought the same, at the time,” Liam continued without waiting for me to say anything. “The net took it really big. They made you think that Cold T’Jinj was some kind of beauty celebrity, a senator or something. Anyway, I thought it was all part of a game and why shouldn’t be after all there were weird stories about Big Zzryd and his cosmic business. But then it died. On the way to Raven the big bad Big Zzryd had died; natural causes. And then for all things, he was buried for Bri’ns sake, in Cosmos.” He paused and took a quick sip from his glass.

“Oh man, and the story doesn’t end here,” he said with mouth still half full of the liquid. “somehow they buried the wrong Zzryd, or a non-Zzryd. They changed the bodies and the new Zzryd was big enough and burned enough to look like a Big Zzryd, especially if you never met the man. And that was it.”

“What about eye iris?” I had to ask.
“You know that Big Zzryd was strong with the flats, don’t you? They never checked. They let it go and kept going partying with a buried body.”

“There is another chance, maybe the let him go intentionally so they can track him and get his with all the loot.”
“Oh Jon, the always romantic.” Liam laughed loud. “Big Zzryd body was the body buried in Cosmos.” I looked at him in shock and surprise.
“What?”
Big Zzryd is dead and buried for good. End of game for the big guy. But the name lives and the stories help. You see the same period big Zzryd went all that and death, Cold T’Jinj decided to take a trip to New Bayou and then he vanished in the desert air. A body everybody knew it wasn’t Big Zzryd buried in Cosmos, Cold T’Jinj disappears in New Bayou and Big Zzryd appears in the Nebula Cold T’Jinj knows so well.”

“Cold T’Jinj took Big Zzyrd’s place?”
“You getting there old pal.” Liam smiled.

“And then what,” I had to ask.
“Then my kPhone vibrated.” He said and took a deep sip from his drink emptying his glass.

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Read all Blood Bayou chapters in order, HERE!

Helsinginkatu 10 – 29. Coffee at Kiasma

Marc was fine with staying in the centre for a few more hours and I headed for the Kiasma museum where I was going to meet Helena. Kiasma has a nice café downstairs and I go there sometimes mainly because I can combine a coffee with a visit to the museum’s bookshop.

Art is a strange thing and builds a very personal and unique relationship with each one. I have a series of reasons I live nowadays in Helsinki with the main one being a five year-old princess but even if nothing had happened more than a decade ago I would have come again and again in this city for two very good reasons, one was Kiasma. Kiasma is the modern art museum of Helsinki and it is very unique in any aspect, from its architect to the exhibitions that change once, sometimes twice, a year. The first exhibition I’ve been in Kiasma was sometime back in late nineties and it had screaming as the theme.

Perhaps you are familiar with Edvard Munch painting, the Norwegian expressionist and the stories about the stolen painting. Well if you have seen the painting you can imagine how many artists from all kinds of art have been inspired from his work and when I say all kind of arts I mean even Rock music or photography and video. And in this exhibition, the first one I visited Kiasma there were works inspired by the scream. I was in awe, ready to start screaming! It was supposed to be a brief visit that would last for a couple of hours and it turned out to be a two days adventure. I just had to see it again and of course on my way out I had to get all the things I could get to remind me this visit not sure when would be the next time I would be back in Helsinki.

Kiasma causes different kind of reaction. Every time a friend visits me in Helsinki Kiasma is one of our first stops. Some of them trying to be nice and kind said good words about the whole thing and remember Kiasma changes its exhibits once or twice a year which means that none of them has seen the same exhibition again; but an hour later they felt ready to leave. Then there were the others who were ready to leave the first quarter complaining that the weather was causing them hunger and finally they were the few who shared my feeling about the museum. That doesn’t mean that all the exhibitions in Kiasma are good or that I liked them, as I have often point myself art is something very personal and you don’t have to like everything is titled art and yes Kiasma has disappointed me a couple of times but has really thrilled me most of the time.

My friend Gianni has visited me twice since I came to Finland and every time he is coming the first question he does after landing and make sure that I’m fine is when we are going to Kiasma and every time we talk on the phone he tells me in details what is in exhibit in Kiasma which is another prove how much internet has changed our lives. So here I was in the ground floor of the Kiasma café waiting for Helena and looking at Mannerheim’s status in front of a steaming cappuccino. Helena arrived and she was as always short breathing. This girl seemed to be running anywhere she was going and she was always short of breath, the funny thing about her was that she was always a few minutes early, apparently I was more than a few minutes early that afternoon; always thin making you suspecting that she might be anorexic with her very slim characteristics and a long face that looked like it came out of one of the el Greco paintings. Black coffee and a fresh orange juice were already on the table waiting for her since I’m quite familiar with what she likes.

“I’m going back!” she said before saying even saying hi. “We talked about it the last few weeks and we decided to go back!” back for Helena meant Greece and she was obviously not talking about holidays. Helena met Antti something like five years ago while he was on holidays in a Greek island. I suppose you know the story; Greek island, sunset and a couple of drinks and the holiday adventure became serious. First he went to Greece in the first chance for a long weekend and then she visited Finland for a few days and like it happens in these cases next thing he met her family and they started thinking of moving together, only for them moving together meant moving to a different country. And in Helena’s story that was Finland.

In Helena’s story everything had a very weird turn because days before she moved here, Anti had a tragic accident on his way back from work that let him nearly for a year in and out in hospitals with broken parts that endanger deformation so they needed to operate. The good news was, if you could ever call them good news, that the accident happened while at work, he was going for some kind of technical job to a customer so the company paid him full salary all these two years and his insurance paid fully all the operations so at least he didn’t have to worry about the money. And of course Helena moved to Finland and she became his private and devoted nurse. Amazingly the same time she gave birth to their first child a beautiful little girl that looked exactly like Helena.

After Antti recovered and returned to his work Helena started dealing with every day life in Finland and naturally she went out of the somehow protective environment she lived the first two years. Amazingly the first problems came from his family! Helena has a degree in literature and of course she carried the same handicap most of us who moved to Finland carry, she found difficult learning the language despite all the effects even with private lessons. She was never good enough to teach and of course the birth of her daughter made things more complicated. His family started nagging to him that she was not learning the language intentionally because she didn’t want to work and that started to cause a series of problems really out of the blue making her feel unwelcome in her own house that apparently was in the same neighbourhood with her sister in law who was leading the ‘lazy campaign’!

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Read all the Helsinginkatu 10 chapters in order, HERE!

The son of vengeance – VIII

The boys left the old man in deep contemplation, a strange smile playing on his lips. The tall man, who had just entered the moment the two exited, noticed the expression and raised an eyebrow.

“Are you sure?” the boy with the lighter hair asked, his voice barely a whisper as they hurried towards the fish market across the square.

“Didn’t you see his face? The second he heard ‘Polisinspektör’ he practically vibrated out of his chair. I swear he almost moved to our table to hear better,” the boy with dark hair replied, a triumphant smirk spreading across his face.

“Oh boy, oh boy,” the lighter-haired boy muttered, before they both broke into a run, disappearing around the corner.

“What happened?” the tall man inquired, placing his coffee and pastry on the table with a slight clatter.

The old man ignored him for a moment, his gaze fixed on the spot where the boys had vanished. A sly smile played on his lips. Finally, he spoke.

“Just had my morning coffee with the most interesting chocolate drinker this town has to offer.”

“Are you losing it, Erik? I told you this place is a backwater and it’ll eventually get to you,” the tall man said, a hint of concern lacing his voice.

The older man, chuckled. “I’m fine, mate. In fact, more than fine,” he continued, ignoring the tall man’s annoyed expression. “Do you know who the young gentleman was who sat next to me for a creamy chocolate and a cinnamon pastry just before you stumbled in?”

The tall man squinted around the cafe. “What young gentleman?”

“He’s gone now, but that’s not important,” the old man waved his hand dismissively. “The key is who he was.”

“Well? Who?” the tall man pressed, a knot of apprehension tightening in his stomach.

“The son of Polisinspektör Mikael Hansson,” the older man declared a triumphant glint in his eyes.

The tall man’s jaw dropped. “No way…” he croaked. “Again?

“Way and again!” The older man affirmed.

Across the square, the boys had reached the corner, chests heaving from exertion.

“So, are we calling the police?” The lighter-haired boy panted, his voice laced with worry.

“I told you, no,” the other boy snapped, his outburst surprising his companion. Realizing his friend’s shock, he softened his tone. “Not yet, I mean,” he added hastily.

“Right,” the lighter-haired boy replied, nodding slowly. “But you have a plan, right?”

“Right,” the darker-haired boy confirmed, eyes fixed intently on the cafe across the square.

While being observed by the old man’s piercing gaze, a new plan had begun to take shape in his mind. It was a plan that wouldn’t involve the police until the very last moment.

Back at the cafe, the tall man took a large bite of his pastry, crumbs scattering on the table. “So, what’s this grand scheme of yours, old man?”

“Listening. That’s the scheme.”

“Listening? That’s your master plan? That’s a pretty short strategy, wouldn’t you say?” The tall man couldn’t resist a jab, but the older man simply sighed in exasperation.

“Listen, you oversized oaf,” he whispered, his voice low and controlled.

“I’m not an oaf!” The tall man shot back, his voice rising slightly.

The older man shook his head, a wry smile playing on his lips. “And I’m not short,” he countered.

The tall man slumped back in his chair, grumbling under his breath. “Alright, alright,” he conceded, raising his pastry in a mock surrender, “spill it. What’s the actual plan?”

“Think about it,” the older man continued, his voice returning to its usual calm. “Those boys come here every day, probably before or after school. They talk, teenagers like to brag.”

“Here? In this public place?” Lars scoffed.

“Exactly,” the older man said, a predatory glint in his eyes. “Teenage boys have an inflated sense of self-importance. They think no one’s listening.”

The tall man considered this for a moment. “So, we snatch them up and hold them hostage until they spill their guts?” he asked, his voice a low rumble.

The older man rolled his eyes. “Oh, for Pete’s sake, man! We don’t resort to brute tactics. We use subtlety. We listen. We glean information. We let them underestimate us.”

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Read all The son of vengeance chapters in order, HERE!