Foxfire

The lights of Mannerheimintie dazzled him. Instinctively, Väino squinted, but even behind closed eyelids, the bright bulbs painted colorful dots across his retinas until his eyes watered. Blinking rapidly, he opened them again and for a brief moment watched his frozen breath rise toward a sky strung with fairy lights.

Good Lord, Stockmann outdid itself more every year, he thought, rolling his eyes as he ducked beneath one of the softly buzzing garlands. Behind him, the tram from Pasila rattled past, and for a fleeting second he longed more than ever for its cozy warmth.

But there was no use in that...

His phone, with Jussi’s ominous message still on it, seemed to grow heavier in his coat pocket with every step. By now it might as well have been a fully grown boulder.

He shouldn’t get his hopes up.

The crushed mix of snow and grit crunched beneath his boots as he hurried down Helsinki’s grand boulevard, pulling his scarf tighter around his neck. Unlike the hordes of winter tourists descending upon the city each year, he didn’t spare his surroundings a single glance. He’d seen enough of the misery before: garish Christmas decorations everywhere, red-nosed reindeer, waving Santas, all accompanied by the immortal zombie Christmas song Last Christmas, blaring from at least three different stores at once, day and night.

And Stockmann — that massive department store whose glittering display windows he had finally left behind — was, as always, the ringleader in matters of tacky holiday romance.

He exhaled in relief as he turned into a quieter side street and stopped before an imposing Art Nouveau building. His breath bounced warmly back against the thick wool of his scarf. With fingers numb from the cold, he pressed the doorbell, then buried his hands deep in his coat pockets again.

It took a moment before the intercom crackled to life:

“Helsingin Sanomat — who am I speaking to?”

He cleared his throat hastily.

“Väinamo Nevalainen, I have an appointment with Mr. Lepistö and I—”

Väino flinched and nearly stumbled backwards down the steps as a warm arm suddenly slipped around his shoulders and a deep, throaty laugh sounded right by his ear.

“Mr. Lepistö has just found Mr. Nevalainen, all good,” the dark voice called cheerfully into the intercom, pulling Väino a little closer into a half-embrace.

“For heaven’s sake, Väino. Don’t be so stiff!” grinned his best friend, finally releasing him from his vice-like grip. Väino hastily straightened his glasses, which had gone askew in the overly enthusiastic greeting, and peered through fogged lenses at Jussi.

“Coffee?” Jussi asked without preamble, nodding toward the Espresso House at the end of the street.

“Are you already done for the day?” Väino asked, puzzled. His stomach tightened. Jussi’s message had definitely sounded like a job offer — not a casual after-work coffee.

To his great relief, Jussi shook his head so vigorously that his thick wool hat slipped halfway down his forehead.

“No, no. Don’t worry. I just came from an endlessly long interview with the latest up-and-coming band at Tavastia. And… let’s just say, after that noise assault, I’m in desperate need of caffeine.” He winked and was already half turned to go.

“Coming?”

Väino hurried after him, and within moments they were enveloped by cozy warmth and the rich scent of ground coffee. Armed with large mugs, they sank into the sagging cushions of a leather couch — Jussi letting out a contented groan as he crossed his long legs.

“Ah, now that’s better,” he murmured, taking a sip. Väino blew lightly into his own cup and studied his friend over the rim.

“You’re sitting on hot coals, aren’t you?” Jussi observed dryly, lowering his cup. Väino could feel the heat rising to his cheeks but said nothing.

“Well then…” With a theatrical gesture perfectly befitting the culture editor of Finland’s largest daily newspaper, Jussi drew an envelope from his inner jacket pocket and placed it meaningfully on the small side table.

“Are you about to make me an indecent proposal?” Väino asked with a cautious grin, his gaze fixed on the envelope.

Jussi laughed — and only now did Väino realize how tired he sounded.

“Something like that. As you’ve already guessed, I’ve got a job for you, Mr. Photographer.”

Väino tilted his head curiously, a stray dark curl falling into his face.

“And that would be, Mr. Editor?”

“Open the envelope and you’ll see,” Jussi murmured into his cup — and immediately burned his tongue with a too-eager sip.

Despite the warmth of the porcelain mug in his hands, Väino’s fingertips were icy cold as he hurriedly tore open the envelope. Out slipped a folded note — and a train ticket that landed in his lap.

He stared at the printed destination in disbelief.

“Rovaniemi?”

He blinked several times, but the letters stubbornly refused to change. Equally baffled, he picked up the note, which upon closer inspection turned out to be a booking confirmation for a mökki — a cabin — in what could only be described as the middle of nowhere.

“Exactly. Rovaniemi,” Jussi said with a wide grin. “As you may have noticed, Christmas is fast approaching.”

Väino’s mouth twitched.

“You don’t say — I’d never have guessed.” He bit his lower lip as he suddenly realized that Last Christmas was also playing softly — yet unmistakably — through the café’s ceiling speakers.

“We’ve recently partnered with Santa Claus Village in Rovaniemi,” Jussi went on. “We want to run a holiday feature on Lapland and could use some nice photos. You know…” He began gesturing wildly with one hand.

“Impressions of the land and the people… reindeer, sled dogs, northern lights… doe-eyed children handing letters to Santa, that sort of thing. And that’s when I thought of you. As you can see…” He waved vaguely toward the papers in Väino’s lap. “Everything’s already paid for. All you’d have to do is say yes.”

Väino bit the inside of his cheek.

The job sounded good — but it wasn’t really his kind of work.

“Jussi… thanks, but I’m not exactly a landscape photographer,” Väino said quietly. But Jussi’s hand made a sweeping motion, as if to brush away any further objections.

“A few photos of the northern lights and some reindeer in the snow — that’s all the landscape we need.”

Väino nodded slowly. His thoughts drifted, tugged like by invisible silk threads, to his fridge — where mice were probably throwing parties by now — and to the growing pile of unpleasant letters in the corner of his hallway. He could really use the job.

“If you agree, we can draw up the contract right away,” Jussi’s encouraging voice broke through his dark musings.

“All right,” Väino heard himself murmur automatically, his fingers tightening around the papers.

A deep chuckle was the answer.

“Wonderful. Tell Santa I said hello.”

Väino gave a faint smile and let his gaze wander once more to the train ticket. When his eyes reached the printed date, they widened.

The train was leaving — tomorrow!