Odd Numbers

by JJ Marsh

  “Awesome!”

  “Beautiful.”

  “Stunning!”

  “Unreal.”

  Back at the cabin, the atmosphere was skittish. Clark and I packed away all the food, accepted Lovisa’s scolding for the items we’d forgotten, and with greater enthusiasm, accepted Simone’s cheese and ham toasted sandwich. Dhan launched into a long and comic repetition of how his buttocks had frozen solid while setting lights in the snow. Mika explained these were necessary to guide us from the sauna to the lake, and conversation once again turned to the concept of getting sweaty and cooling off in freezing water.

  If Simone’s initial reaction to the idea was hostile, since seeing the lake she had vetoed the idea completely. Her arguments were reasonable. We would be drinking. Our judgements would be suspect. We didn’t have Mika’s family to guide us. We were miles from any kind of emergency assistance. Those who wanted to put themselves through the boiling sauna, icy water combination could have a cold shower. Or we could do the lake tomorrow, in daylight, sober. I think if it hadn’t been for the issue of nakedness, she might well have persuaded us, at least the female half of the party. But as so often with our eclectic mix, the question of culture distracted us.

  Dhan, who stood behind Simone’s chair with his back against the kitchen sink, gazed out at the lake and already darkening forest. “I admit, I thought this was a wind-up. But after helping Mika cut the ice hole and fix the lights, I think he’s serious.”

  “Of course I’m serious,” said Mika. “I don’t joke about something like that. The sauna and dip is a family tradition. I would love to introduce my favourite foreigners to a genuinely Czech experience. But if you really cannot face jumping in the lake, as Simone says, the next best thing is a cool shower. It’s not the same, but no one has to do this if you’re too scared.”

  “Not scared, mate, just not prepared,” Dhan laughed, his hands massaging Simone’s shoulders. “I thought this was some kind of joke, so I didn’t even bring my swimmers. That’s why I can’t go in.”

  Prankster, clown, sharp wit; Dhan’s raison d’être was amusing people, so it was unusual to see him startled by the eruption of belly laughs at what he obviously considered a serious statement.

  Lovisa was the first to recover. “You call that an excuse? It’s a sauna, Dhan, no one wears swimming clothes. Everyone is naked.”

  “Naked!” Clark’s head whipped around. “You’re not serious.”

  Simone rolled her eyes and groaned. “And the uptight Anglo-Saxons strike again. What is the matter with you people? Why is the human body something to be ashamed of? Every summer in the south of France, I watched the Brits wriggling beneath their towels, terrified of exposing the smallest glimpse of skin. Why can’t you be comfortable with your bodies?”

  Lovisa and Mika were both laughing and nodding at Simone.

  Mika spoke. “It’s because Brits and Americans see naked bodies as nothing more than sexual vessels. They are incapable of taking off their clothes without thinking about sex. Europeans see nudity as a natural state. But then again, we don’t have the sniggering, snorting attitude to bodily functions either.” It was one of his favourite themes and one that got right up my nose. As international translators, all of us should know better than to deploy cultural stereotypes.

  Dhan began to protest but Lovisa spoke over him. “We’re all friends here. If getting naked makes you uncomfortable, you can wear your underwear. If Simone is afraid of the lake, she can use the shower instead. No one is under any pressure to do anything they don’t want to do.”

  “I’m comfortable getting naked,” said Clark, which came as a surprise to no one. He had a body he was rightly proud of and took every opportunity to display it.

  Much as my loyalty to Dhan ran deep, no way was I going to be labelled an uptight Brit afraid of getting her kit off. “When in Prague …” I smiled. “Tonight I am going to strip off, get sweaty as hell, jump in the lake, and come back here for more of that stinking beer cheese.”

  Lovisa and Clark applauded. Mika’s grin split his face. Simone reached her hand up to touch Dhan’s, in a gesture of patronising reassurance. I knew that would drive him mad.

  The evening meal concept was pot luck, as far as pot luck could be considered a highly organised tasting menu representing each of our home cultures. Once again, Lovisa had planned and executed the whole thing. The choices were bordering on cliché, but we told ourselves it was a sardonic nod to tradition. The main course was Mika’s responsibility and a Czech classic: carp with potato salad. We opened with canapés of Alaskan smoked salmon with all the trimmings. Acknowledging his roots, Dhan chose a prawn pakora for the starter, followed by Simone’s take on bouillabaisse. For dessert, Lovisa made classic Finnish star cookies and glögg, a kind of mulled wine. My lack of culinary ability was well known, so I could hear the collective sigh of relief when I volunteered to provide a cheeseboard. Not even I could screw that up.

  Lovisa made her cookies while we were out shopping, and as salmon and cheese only needed taking out of the fridge, we left the kitchen to the others. Clark, Lovisa and I wrapped up in our warmest gear – Lovisa lent me a pair of leggings to wear under my sweatpants – and we went for a wander by the lake. The sun was sinking, but the sky was still cloudless and the afternoon light made everything slightly pinkish. We threw snowballs, ran in and out of the trees and made snow angels on pristine drifts. Breathless from racing each other back to the cabin and eager to get into the warm, we took a minute longer to stand at the door and soak in the scene.

  Fir trees covered with a dusting of snow, the flat matt surface of the lake dully reflecting the blue of the sky and the last rays of the sun shining through the forest made for a scene so idyllic you wanted to either laugh or cry. I did neither, but took out my camera in a feeble attempt to capture the moment. The shutter had frozen solid. We bundled inside, out of the freezing air ready to party like it was 1999.

  Chapter 3: Gael, 1999

  The meal wasn’t perfect, but pretty close. Dhan put a bottle of Moët et Chandon champagne outside the back door to chill and forgot about it. Simone’s soup caught while she was trying to clear up the mess from the exploded bottle, so we called it Smoky Fish Soup and ate it anyway. Party pooper Mika kept trying to ration the alcohol – ‘we must not be too drunk for the sauna and the lake!’ – but not even Lovisa paid him any attention.

  The fire blazed in the huge hearth and on the dining table, tea lights flickered in jars. We ate Clark’s canapés standing around the fire, toasting each other’s health and future with a glass of fridge-cooled champagne. Compliments flowed on how we all scrubbed up. The men all wore tuxedos and thanks to Simone and Lovisa’s persuasion, all three women wore evening dresses. My camera now thawed out, we posed again and again in various combinations. A Night to Remember.

  When we finally sat down to eat, there were more surprises. Each diner’s setting was personalized with mini flags of each of our countries stuck into a bread roll; the brown paper place mats had been handwritten with text from a book or poem; a playing card served as a coaster and our wine glasses had individual identity rings. Lovisa had taken so much trouble to make the evening special to the six of us and her gestures touched every one of us. She was going to make a wonderful mama when she had children of her own, rather than five mildly dysfunctional peers.

  So entertained were we by the perceptive bespoke settings, we barely noticed the burnt tang of the fish soup and declared ourselves a fan of the flavour.

  Mika’s place mat bore a passage from The Unbearable Lightness of Being by Milan Kundera. His eyes met hers with such softness, I had to look away. My wine glass ring had a double symbol: a gold star and the feminist symbol. I approved. When I saw Clark’s, I laughed aloud. A tiny pair of Speedos – his favourite item of clothing. The Joker as Dhan’s card could not have been more appropriate. I wondered who’d chosen for Lovisa.

  “Me. I know myself best. Listen, the other side of everyone’s m
at is blank. Don’t get it too dirty and we can all write a message for each other at the end of the meal. It will be a memory we can always keep, stains and all. Simone, that soup was lovely and now it’s time for Dhan’s starter. My glass is empty, Mika, my love.”

  He protested, she ignored him and poured herself a healthy measure of white.

  Damn Dhan and his pakoras. Those floury little patties stuffed full of spicy prawns were dangerously moreish. I had two. Clark had three.

  “Goddamn it, Dhan. You shoulda just put one on a plate with a little garnish. It’s a starter, right? Shoving a pile of these in front of us just before the main course is asking for trouble.”

  “As if anything would ever spoil your appetite, Beer Hunter. If you’re worried about the calories, I’ll race you round the cabin before the main course.” Dhan’s eyebrows arched into perfect circumflexes, a look no one could resist. Even Mika shook his head with a grin, but scooped up the plate of patties and took it off the table. “I heard they’re just as good cold,” he said, removing temptation before he served the carp.

  As soon as he was out of the room, Lovisa topped up all our glasses. Conversation turned to hopes and dreams again. This time not of a personal nature, but for the whole world. Where would we be in another ten years? Twenty? Thirty? Better off, surely. New geopolitical unions, commitments to a peaceful environment, neighbourly cooperation and greater appreciation of one another’s strengths. Who am I kidding? Of course we were talking about ourselves as a metaphor for something larger. We were young and self-obsessed, what do you expect?

  We ate pan-fried carp with potato salad and some greens I couldn’t name and forgot to ask about until we were replete. Lovisa cleared the plates and suggested a respite before the next courses. The atmosphere grew more relaxed and comfortable, as we revisited in-jokes and old memories. Warm, well fed and full of wine, what kind of maniac would want to take off their clothes, get naked and sweaty, then jump into a lake?

  Mika, that’s who.

  “It’s nearly eleven. Those of us who want to do the sauna should start now. Fifteen minutes heat, run to the lake, jump in, run back and rest. Then we do it again.”

  Howls from me, Clark, Simone and Dhan.

  “Do it twice?! No way, I’m only doing this once.”

  “I really think we should postpone this till tomorrow.”

  “Can’t we just sit here and drink champagne?”

  “You can, Dhan. But I’d like to heat myself until I’m melting, jump into natural freezing water and run into the house with my skin and circulation more alive than ever. This is how I want to start my millennium, 100% buzzing!”

  He’d convinced me. Not just that, I was desperate to get out of that stiff dress. “I’m coming with you!” I shouted and rushed off to the spare room to strip off.

  So it was that six pink people, only one wearing his pants, lay sweating on pine benches and inhaling the steaming air in a darkened wooden room. I didn’t look at the others, just focused on my skin, my breath and coping with the heat. Dhan made a couple of wisecracks, but they fell flat. The ambience was not dissimilar to church.

  A bell rang and Mika opened the door. “Take a robe and a pair of shoes. Follow the lights to the lake as quickly as you can. Wait till Simone attaches your safety band and then when I tell you, jump in. Please jump into the middle to avoid injury and keep your arms up above your head. Clark and I will pull you straight out again and Lovisa or Simone will wrap you in your robe. Please remember to put on your shoes immediately to protect your feet. Return inside the cabin and rest on one of the benches. Drink only water. When we are all ready, those who want to can do it again. It is a feeling like no other, that much I promise.”

  His words cut through my muggy mind and half-cut brain. Obey orders, or else. A fluffy green robe from the heater, a pair of chunky plastic flip-flops, and I followed the others out of the door. Steam rose from our bodies in a gauzy cloud. The night was surprisingly light as the moon shone its silvery blessing upon us. The ground illumination Dhan had complained so much about worked its fairy-tale magic, guiding us towards the water like magic luminous mushrooms.

  I clung to Lovisa, half thrilled, half terrified and already feeling the icy air on my sweaty hairline. To my immense surprise, Simone attached a loop around her wrist, dropped her robe, stepped out of her shoes and jumped in first. She disappeared into the blackness and bounced back up with arms aloft, and the two men hauled her back onto the ice. Lovisa and I rushed to cover and cuddle her, thrusting her feet into her shoes. Next, Clark leapt into the water, emerging instantly with a whale-like gasp. Dhan and Mika fished him out.

  Once dipped, we were supposed to go back to the house, but in spite of the bitter cold, we had to watch the rest of the gang. Lovisa went next, making fewer ripples than a knife and bobbing up with diver’s arms aloft. Inspired by her cool composure, I asked Simone to attach my safety strap. I let the robe drop, stepped out of my flip-flops and stared at the dark hole in the ice. Every nerve in my body sounded alarms. What’s on the bottom? Will my feet get caught? Am I going to have a heart attack? I shut all the voices down, placed my hands in prayer pose above my head and jumped.

  Freezing water on hot skin feels like ants, electricity or a physical blow to the solar plexus. My skin was on fire and in an instant I was purified and clean. My first instinct was to gasp, but even in my shock, I knew that was a bad idea. My feet touched something reedy and I propelled myself directly upwards, where strong arms lifted me clear of the deep. Lovisa and Simone embraced me with a robe and slippers despite the fact a burning glow warmed me from within. Mika went next, in and out like a silverfish, barely requiring Clark’s arm to emerge with a huge exhalation like a humpback whale.

  We all turned to Dhan.

  He held up his hands. “Not happening. Time out. Dhan and frozen lakes don’t mix. First one back to the cabin is a cissy.” He scuttled off, following the floor lights which led us all into the house.

  Once indoors, Mika insisted we rest and listen to our bodies. We obeyed, reclining on the wooden slatted beds and after a few seconds of resisting temptation to chatter, observed what was going on. My blood, my internal organs, my skin were all having a party. Everything was alive and electric. I wanted to stay there forever, fizzing and glowing and saying cheers to every last bit of me, from toenails to earlobes.

  Mika rose after about ten minutes and returned to the sauna. We duly followed and after a few moments, once we’d settled our naked bodies on various platforms, the door opened and in came Dhan.

  “Bottled it, I know,” he said. “Had a shower instead. Feels great, though, doesn’t it?”

  No one replied.

  “You lot going back in?”

  Lovisa lifted her head. “Whoever wants to go in again has everyone’s support. Anyone who doesn’t fancy the idea could start warming the glögg instead.”

  Dhan sat on the edge of the bench, still wearing his pants. Sweat dripped into my eyes, so I couldn’t make out his expression. My head fell back onto my towel and I turned my attention to a more interesting conversation between me and my skin.

  It was odd how soon nakedness became natural. When Mika stood up to open the door, his penis dangling, I didn’t even get the urge to giggle. We all smiled and put on our robes, already excited about the jump. Dhan walked out of the sauna first, not turning left towards the bathroom, but opening the back door and striding into the snow.

  “Dhan?” I asked.

  “I’m not bottling this twice,” he said.

  Everyone applauded and I could feel the buzz before we even got outside. It was snowing again. We tramped down the path all the more grateful for the guiding lights at foot level.

  When we got back to the ice-hole, Lovisa gestured towards me. “Gael, why don’t you go first? When you’re done, go back to the cabin and heat up the glögg. Is that fine with you?”

  It was more than fine. I could hardly wait for that firey skin feeling again. With an unch
aracteristic squeak of excitement, I threw off the robe and slippers and ran towards the hole. I didn’t hesitate because I knew what to expect. But I had forgotten Mika’s instructions to jump for the centre of the hole. My jump was too close and the edge of the ice scraped the back of my legs, bum and shoulder blades. The freezing water numbed the pain and only when I was replacing my robe did I feel the blood trickling down my legs.

  “I scratched myself,” I told Lovisa, as Dhan and Mika pulled Clark from the water.

  She lifted the hem of my robe and I heard her gasp. “Go back to the house. Now. Forget about the glögg, I’ll do it. As soon as we’re done here, I’ll come and get my first-aid kit. Don’t be freaked out, it looks worse than it is.”

  She gave my shoulder a gentle push, so I did as I was told and made my way up the path, still exhilarated and alive, despite the stinging feeling across my shoulders.

  Just before I opened the door, I looked behind me towards the circle of lights and the silhouetted figures beside the hole. I paused, curious to see if Dhan would actually go through with it. It was at that precise moment the lights went out. Simone shrieked, a male voice shouted something indistinct and there was a splash. Instead of laughter and applause, I heard nothing at all until Mika’s voice released a loud curse. Everyone was calling Dhan’s name, the panic in their voices sending a chill through me the weather could never match. I began running in the direction I had come only to be stopped short by Mika’s shout.

  “Gael! Get a torch, quick!”