The Priest of Evil

by Matti Joensuu

He gave a start and quickly looked around to the left and the right; he didn’t have to look behind him, because all that was there was the cafeteria wall. He couldn’t see them yet. He gave a soft sigh: he couldn’t see them because it was only the first break. It usually started after lunch, then continued all afternoon and on the way home too, if he forgot to wait behind the coat rack until they had gone. Janne was the biggest bastard of the lot.

  But even this he could forget about when he was composing. He would start by staring at an object, like the sand in the playground, and gradually he would notice that it wasn’t just sand, it was a whole collection of tiny, individual crystals. Each one of them had a shape and colour of its own, and light reflected off them in different ways. And even though they appeared to be in random positions, by the laws of nature they were exactly as they should be. It was truly magnificent!

  Then all of a sudden it was as though he no longer simply saw these crystals, he could hear them – they were like sublime music, the swell of a great orchestra. At times like this his hands rose up of their own accord and began conducting the orchestra. This had even happened in school once or twice, and that’s why everyone thought he was a fucking nutcase. That’s where it had all started.

  Even his mum said he must not be right in the head, and she hated him for it. So did Roo – but he hated Roo back. He didn’t know whether it was a mental illness or not, but he was afraid it might be and the thought that he was different from everyone else frightened him. He’d never belonged to anybody’s group or gang: everywhere he went, he was always alone.

  Trembling slightly he took a deep mouthful of air, then another, and his mind was filled once again with the sensation of flying, and it was even better than composing; when the music was already playing, everything happened much quicker. Straight away he began conducting the orchestra, and a moment later he noticed that the shoes lined up beneath the coat rack weren’t just sitting there, they were chattering away to one another. One of them was explaining how it had stepped in some chewing gum, another had stepped in dog’s droppings, while a third recounted how, in a queue at the checkout, it had met such a wonderful pair of high heels that it had fallen in love with them in an instant. And as for the green rug in the living room, it was no longer a rug: it was a raft, a slice of the jungle, drifting upon the ocean, and only it knew where it was heading.

  A moment later and everything had turned into a great dance: his legs moved supplely as though he had springs in his knees. He soared across on the jungle raft, flew from one room to the next, finally flying above all the furniture – or at least so he imagined. Nothing else existed, just the flying, not a single one of those bastards or his frightening thoughts. How he loved this!

  By now the grains of sand had turned into a great horde of people, a choir singing a hymn, like the beginning of the waltz theme of Also Sprach Zarathustra: tada-diti-ti-tii! The strings began to weave their melody upwards, then a violin appeared and swiftly took the lead, and like a thief his hands slipped out of his pockets and rose up into the air – and that’s when it hit him.

  This time it struck him on the temple. It really hurt, like fire. He let out a silent ‘fuck’, and he could feel his lips trembling; he knew that tears were not far away. The sand was once again just sand, and he stood there, his shoulders hunched up, surrounded by the noise of the playground at break time.

  They appeared from behind the games wall. That’s where they had thrown the stone. They came straight towards him, first that shit-head Janne, then Stenu, and all of a sudden he felt a desperate need for the toilet.

  ‘How’s Matti shit-for-brains?’ Janne began. Then they were around him in a semi-circle and he was trapped: behind him was the wall. ‘What’s with the hands? Having a wank?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Have you got such a big dick that you need both hands?’

  ‘Give it a rest.’

  ‘Lend us your phone,’ said Stenu. The expression on his face was so demonic that Matti knew what was coming next.

  ‘No.’

  ‘Why not? You afraid I’m going to nick it?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Then why won’t you lend it to me?’

  ‘I haven’t got one.’

  ‘What? Did you hear that? He hasn’t got a phone!’

  They all burst into laughter. It was always false laughter at first, but when they saw how crap he felt, and that he could do nothing but stare at his shoes, it turned into real laughter. Then they all took out their mobile phones – Rike had one of those fancy new ones that can do almost anything – and held them up to their ears. Then it started:

  ‘Hello? Hello? Can Mummy’s boy Moisio hear?’

  ‘Pick up! There’s a lot of people calling you!’

  He turned and stared at the wall with numbed eyes, but the bastards wouldn’t let him be. They grabbed hold of him and spun him back round.

  ‘Been looking at pussy on the net again?’

  ‘He won’t even look you in the eyes! Look!’

  ‘And why haven’t you been on the net? Say something, you little shit!’

  ‘I haven’t…’

  ‘I’ll tell you why: ’cause you haven’t got a computer!’

  ‘Fuck! He hasn’t got a computer! Do you think he’s got a dick?’

  ‘Let’s have a look!’

  ‘Piss off, leave me alone.’

  ‘And what if we don’t? Going to tell your dad?’

  ‘Shit-heads!’

  ‘No you won’t. And do you know why? ’Cause you haven’t got a dad either, you fucking poof!’

  ‘You’re the…’

  ‘Jesus Christ,’ said Janne; he sounded almost amazed and started stretching his arms. Matti was so afraid that it felt as if his hands were swelling. ‘Did you hear that? This poor tosser just called me a poof.’

  ‘I heard him.’

  ‘Me too.’

  ‘I heard him call you an arse bandit too.’

  ‘Fucking hell,’ Janne said stretching his arms again. He came right up to Matti and grabbed the scruff of his jacket. He could smell the smoke on Janne’s breath. ‘Right, gay boy, you know what’s going to happen to you after school?’

  ‘Don’t, please…’

  ‘You’re dead. Next break I’ll come and see if you want to apologise. And you can say sorry by kissing my arse. But if you don’t want to…’

  At that moment someone came up behind them. It all happened so quickly that he couldn’t tell where she had come from, but she shoved them so hard that they all stumbled and fell over. For a moment he thought it might be the girls’ PE teacher, but it was Fat Leena from Year Eight. Some of the other children called her the Hammer Thrower. She had Janne by the ear and twisted it so hard that he fell to his knees.

  ‘What the fuck are you doing, you fat cow?’ Janne cried out, but this time his voice was trembling too.

  ‘Just thought I’d show you what it’s like,’ said Fat Leena. She had already stretched her hands out towards Skate, but he legged it and only stopped when he realised Fat Leena wasn’t following him. The others moved back, as though they were going to help Skate, even though they too were running away.

  ‘I’ll report you to the police!’ shouted Janne. ‘This isn’t the last you’ll hear of this, fat bitch! And you’ll pay if my phone’s broken!’

  Only when they were far enough away did Janne dare raise his middle finger at her.

  ‘Suits me fine!’ she shouted back. ‘Whenever you’re ready. But you’ll never win.’

  The bell had obviously rung, though Matti hadn’t noticed when. Everything had happened so fast, and now there was no one in the playground but the two of them. He could feel his shoulders heaving – he had learnt how to cry without making a sound. He felt bleary and ashamed, the shame thick like porridge in his head, and he felt that he simply didn’t dare go to his next lesson.

  ‘Get a move on,’ shouted Fat Leena abruptly.

  From the footsteps he could hear that Fat
Leena was leaving, but he couldn’t bring himself to follow her.

  ‘Leena,’ he finally managed to say. All he could do was stare at the ground, embarrassed and bowing his head, but he could hear that Fat Leena had stopped walking.

  ‘What? Thanks?’

  ‘Yeah. And, um… Could you walk home from school with me today?’

  ‘When do you finish?’

  ‘Three.’

  ‘Me too. See you at the front door.’

  ‘Thanks a lot,’ said Matti, though he wasn’t sure whether Leena had heard him or not, because just then a medicopter appeared from behind the trees, its blades chattering, and flew low over the school. There had been an accident somewhere: perhaps a car crash, perhaps someone had been in the wrong lane and smashed into a lorry.

  Or even tried to kill themselves.

  9. Murmurings

  Sinikka was warm and happy – even though she was upside down, but she didn’t know this. In any case, this was precisely the position she should have been in. She kept one of her tiny thumbs in her mouth and sucked on it. She very often did this, particularly when she heard the now familiar murmuring: If you go down to the woods today, you’re sure of a big surprise…

  This murmuring made Sinikka feel better than any other. It was like a murmuring all of her own: it was so close that it caused something to flicker gently, deep within her.

  For every bear that ever there was, will gather there for certain because today’s…

  Ding-dong!

  That was a noise Sinikka had heard many times before, and though she hadn’t really worked out why, she knew that the ding-dong meant that the world would begin to bounce slightly quicker than usual, and that would be followed by more murmuring, first the familiar, strong one, then another, fainter murmuring.

  Ding-dong, came the sound again, and at that Sinikka and the rest of the world began to bounce, much faster, and soon afterwards Sinikka could make out her own murmuring: ‘Good morning.’

  ‘Good morning. I’m DS Timo Harjunpää from Helsinki Police.’

  ‘Oh? Ah yes, you must be here about the break-in. I simply haven’t got round to making a list of everything that’s missing.’

  ‘No…’

  ‘Don’t worry, you can look at it. Quite a handsome bump, isn’t it? It’s our first baby.’

  ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to… Do you know what it is yet?’

  ‘No, we didn’t want to. We’ll find out when the time comes. So what does bring you here then?’

  ‘May I come in for a moment?’

  ‘By all means.’

  ‘Perhaps we should sit down.’

  ‘I’d rather stand. It’s good for the back, you know.’

  ‘Do you have any friends or relatives who live nearby?’

  ‘No. Why do you ask? What’s this about?’

  ‘Your husband is Tero Yrjänä Kokkonen, is that correct?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I’m afraid I have some terrible news,’ Harjunpää finally stammered. ‘Your husband has been involved in an accident and I’m afraid to say…’

  ‘No! It isn’t him! Good God, what a fright you gave me… That motorbike is still registered in his name, but someone else was driving it. We only handed it over once the payment had been settled. He sold it two days ago.’

  ‘I’m terribly sorry. This wasn’t a motorbike accident, this happened in the underground.’

  ‘Good God! No, God, no… what happened? Which hospital is he in?’

  ‘I’m afraid he’s dead, madam.’

  ‘Oh Jesus, no! He can’t be! He took the underground because it was so much safer… Tell me it wasn’t Tero!’

  ‘There’s nothing we can do. There’s no doubt that it is your husband. Madam, please, come and sit down here.’

  ‘No! No!’

  ‘I’m so sorry; please, let’s sit over here. Please…’

  These were strange murmurings, Sinikka had never heard anything like them before. They made her feel suddenly very bad indeed – her heart beat so frantically that it hurt, she became very restless and started kicking with her little fairy feet and waving her arms around. Then something even worse happened: something pressed against her, all around her, again and again – Sinikka felt like she was about to burst.

  Her own discomfort meant that she no longer paid attention to the murmurings, but they continued, she could feel it, and she soon heard a very strange murmuring indeed: wee-wah-wee-wah! Soon afterwards Sinikka’s position changed again. In this position the world was still for a long time, and she couldn’t hear murmurings of any sort. Only now Sinikka no longer felt calm, as she always had done in that position. All she felt was that she was being pushed from every direction, that something wanted her out of there.

  10. Nook

  If you were to lift the stiff hatch in the corrugated-iron roof of The Brocken and edge your way through the gap, you might be in for a surprise. Right in the middle of the hut’s stone floor gaped the mouth of a shaft, about two metres in diameter, and a sheer drop leading down into the darkness. At first glance it resembled the hungry jaws of an ancient monster. If you dared move closer, at the western side of the shaft you would notice the top of a pair of steel rails, and if you inched your way towards these rails you would see, in between the rails, steel rungs leading down into the earth’s invisible core.

  And if you had the courage to grip the rails, place a foot on the first rung and lower yourself down, it would be another twenty-five rungs before your feet once again touched something firm. If, however, you were to shine a torch at your feet, you would notice that the firm ground was not so firm after all – it was a platform fashioned from an iron grille and covered only half of the shaft. It would turn your stomach to look down between your feet into who knows what; if you should drop something small through the grille, there would be no reassuring clatter or splash to indicate that the object had arrived somewhere.

  Along the other side of the shaft the top of the next set of ladders could be dimly made out, leading down and down, and a faint upward draught would catch at your trouser legs, giving you goose bumps.

  At this platform, along both the northern and southern sides of the shaft, were two doors – or rather, two openings. To the left gaped an empty room, a couple of metres wide and about five metres long, with concrete facing along the walls. However, the room was not entirely empty, for along the floor jutted a number of rusted mounting bolts, rather like those on the cemented floor outside but considerably sturdier and with two rails attached to the floor running between them. Along the ceiling ran a massive pipe, several metres long, which had once led somewhere and had perhaps served a very important function.

  It was impossible to say with any certainty what had been in the room many years ago – a winch of some sort, a crane, or perhaps some kind of ventilation pump that had later been replaced by something further down, newer and more efficient. The opening to the right was covered from the inside with a green tarpaulin – the kind that you often see gently rustling in the wind, covering boats tethered up for the winter.

  Behind the tarpaulin was a room all but identical to the one opposite, but this room was far from empty: on the floor along its far wall lay a foam mattress and upon that a sleeping bag left open to air. At the head of the mattress stood a wooden box, one that once had been used to transport apples. Upon the box there was a storm lantern and an alarm clock without its glass cover – even in the darkness you could feel the hands of the clock and see what time of night it was.

  Near the door opening a nylon rope had been stretched from wall to wall across the room and this clearly served as a clothes-line. On clothes hangers to the right hung women’s clothes, for the most part loose skirts and caftans reaching almost to the ankles, a few blazers and a floral woollen cardigan. To the left hung men’s clothing: different coloured trousers, a pair of jeans, jackets and shirts and a hefty leather jacket from the 1950s. All this clearly served another purpose too: if you
drew the clothes together they formed a handy inner door to cut out the draught.

  Along the walls were a number of cardboard boxes, and in the two outermost boxes was presumably a selection of underwear: one box for women’s underwear, one for men’s. At least, on top of the left-hand box were various men’s hats and baseball caps, whilst upon the right-hand box sat two berets, one blue and one green, and with them a brimmed hat and a straw hat with a plastic flower stitched into the ribbon.

  In addition to this there was a folding chair – like the ones often found on terraces during the summer, the kind that are particularly uncomfortable to sit in – and opposite the chair a Trangia stove and an old burnt pan. Beside them stood a neat row of full water bottles, and behind them a row of empty ones.

  Books lay in piles on almost every free surface. If you were to take a closer look at these you would notice that the majority of them dealt with different religions and astronomy – and that every last one of them had been stolen from the city library.

  The only item that might have been considered a luxury or a decoration was a poster hanging on the wall above the bed. The poster showed an image from the furthest reaches of space, nebulae joining together to create another Big Bang, a new universe, or perhaps it was simply a far off galaxy – it was impossible for any layman to know precisely what it displayed, but you might guess that the photograph had been taken by the Hubble Telescope.

  All in all, looking around that southern room, it contained everything that an ascetic person needed to live their modest life. That person’s spirituality must surely have been far richer. For without a doubt this nook was someone’s home, a gnome’s perhaps or an earth sprite’s, a cosy little nest of their own.

  11. Command

  ‘Faustus dies,’ he puffed each time he grabbed hold of another rung. He climbed upwards with the agility of an animal: hand, foot, other hand, other foot. This did not present him with the slightest difficulty as he was used to lots of walking. Besides, there was not a gram of excess fat on him; just bones, tough muscles and skin.