Light Refracted

I stumble up the few steps of stairs to the door, pulling my suitcases with me. The welcome warmth of the reception immediately starts to melt the snow clinging to my jacket, beanie and eyelashes. The familiar smell of this room – its green velvet couches, spruce tables and lively fireplace – is enough to bring me to tears.

“Ah! You’re finally here! Welcome, how was your trip?” The man behind the counter approaches me, smiling.

“Not too bad, my flight was only delayed once.”

The big antique clock by the corner strikes midnight, though that hardly means anything here. This time of year, darkness is everlasting.

“I’m glad you came in later this year. We’ve been having the most dreadful storms, but the weather seems to have settled in the past week. I have no doubt you’ll be able to see them soon enough.” “Thank you, Onni, I hope so.”

They’re rebranding, they’ve changed uniforms – I hate it.

He carries my luggage to the elevator and accompanies me silently to my floor, the fourth, always the fourth. We stop by the door to room 407 and I can feel the anticipation rising in my body, my breathing quickens and my vision is distorted.

“Look, Jenna, management wanted me to talk to you about a couple of things…”

I’m impatient to get inside the room. Onni’s voice is muffled by the incessant ringing in my head. Onni, what a stupid fucking name, there can be no happiness, no luck in this place.

“We can’t keep reserving this room for you every year. This is a master suite with a prime view, it must be made available to other clients and…”

“U-hum. I agree.” I try to get past him and grab the keys from his hand, but in my daze, I’m not fast enough. Swiftly stepping aside, away from my reach, he keeps scolding.

 “We’ve been patient. In part because, all things considered, you’re a good guest. But this can’t go on forever.”

“I see. I’ve spent all your pity.” For the first time, I look up to meet his gaze. “You’ve all washed your hands squeaky clean!” My voice comes out strangled, high-pitched. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed your new logo; don’t think I don’t read every interview your boss is putting out. I know exactly what you’re doing!” I yell, pointing a finger at him.

“You need help, Jenna, and coming here is doing you no good.” Onni sighs, dangling the key to my room in front of me.

I can barely contain my crying long enough to throw the luggage inside and bang the door behind me.

There’s no strength left in me, the first day back is always the worst. I crawl onto the bed and take out the purple scarf from my coat. I bury my face in it, desperate to smell a trace of you, but it’s been too long and you’re gone from here too.

* * *

My alarm wakes me up at six. I’ve still got a few hours to kill. I put my maps, my guides and journals in a backpack and go down for dinner. Their restaurant is nothing special, still, you liked their noodle soup. I eat it every day I spend here. On top of my table, I find a flyer boasting about their <New and Improved Lapland hikes!>. I can’t help but chuckle in disbelief as I stuff it inside my backpack too.

I hurry through the reception as fast as I can. Everyone’s eyes are on me. Most of them are compassionate, some can be hostile, all of them condescending. I take out my notes and start a long walk towards the first spot marked on the map. By cross-referencing several databases, I narrowed down the area of probable sightings to a 20km radius. Onni was right, the storms passed and the sky is clear today. I think I can make it this time.

With each step forward, my boots are buried down to the ankle. The brutal Nordic winds manage to pierce through all my layers and the polar night is so dark I can barely see anything in front of me. Starlight is of no help.

My right hand’s four fingers turn familiarly blue and I can barely hold onto the compass. Old wounds bring back a sharp stabbing pain in my chest. My legs move on their own, mechanically through the snow. My mind is gone, trapped in memory.

The cold stalks you like prey – it tires you down in its pursuit. You’re made to leave a piece of you behind, a little at a time. That’s how it feeds. The cold claims your body while it wears down your soul.

That’s what happened so many years ago.

* * *

“That one over there is Sirius, the brightest star in the Greater Dog or Canis Major.”

“It’s beautiful. What about that one?”

“That’s Orion, the hunter. Can you see his belt all lined up?”

Eli’s arms are around me, our cheeks pressed against each other as she points out all her favorite constellations in the sky. I’ve heard them a thousand times, I can recognize them myself at this point, but I will never stop asking her about them. Everywhere we’ve been on our travels she makes sure we stop to look at them, marveling at their beauty as I bask in hers.

In Lapland, we can see them better than ever before. Enjoying the warmth of our campfire, we settle down on a log to eat with our fellow hikers. Three more couples and our tour guide, Henrik, joined us in our adventure.

“Alright, rest up, guys. Catch your breath, we will be going a bit further north soon. We should get to our destination in two hours if we make good time.”

Our hike was meant to take us through a scenic route to reach the mountain where we would watch the northern lights dance in the sky. In order to increase our chances, we planned this trip to coincide with the winter equinox – seeing the aurora borealis was in our honeymoon plans from the start.

It was a tough trail – our group was not made of experienced hikers – but we were willing to endure it. The Arctic received us in its full splendor. We saw spectacular icy waterfalls, beautiful frozen lakes and our spirits settled in the peacefulness of nature’s winter slumber.

“A little more to the left. Fix your scarf, my love. Perfect.”

We snapped photos left and right, eager to make these moments last forever. It was the trip of a lifetime and I had never known such happiness before. In the cruel arctic tundra, Eli still made it feel like home.

However, after four hours on the move, the group started to feel uneasy. Our destination was nowhere in sight and threatening storm clouds were coming in from the east. At this point, one of the other couples wanted to turn back or signal for help, but Henrik vehemently refused. He was offended they would even suggest that.

“Don’t you think I know what I’m doing? It’s right ahead on the next turn. If you couldn’t handle the hike you shouldn’t have come.”

So, we kept going. There was nothing else we could have done, really. Eli and I exchanged glances, held each other’s hand tightly and continued on our way. By now, a few snowflakes started to fall. We could have appreciated its magic, but the cold and the exhaustion were starting to take a toll on all of us. Seven hours had passed since we left the hotel.

“My hand hurts so bad.”

“It’s okay, Jenna, we’re almost there. I will make us a big fire and roast smores under the lights.”

We always did that for one another. Pretend everything was fine.

“Hey! I think I see the mountain! There’s a few houses on the valley too!” One of the guys shouted.

Motivated by the sight of smoky chimneys, we doubled our speed. One last push and we would be safe and warm. We made our way through the snow, dragging our freezing bodies as best as we could, towards a little village in the distance.

That’s when it hit.

They would name this storm Aada. A deep cyclone with intense blizzard conditions would leave Central Scandinavia and the Baltic region on high alert for weeks.

In the Arctic, it hit us fast and ruthlessly. In a matter of seconds, we were engulfed in it.

The severe snowfall made it impossible to see any further. I’m not sure when we lost the others, they were all found scattered along the mountainside. We tried to keep going in the same direction, but the extremely strong winds quickly toppled us over.

“I lost the way! I don’t know where to go.” Eli cried, shouting over the deafening sound of the wind in my ears.

We could do nothing more but cling to each other, deathly terrified of being separated. At that moment, we both braced for the end, and I think we were both at peace with it, knowing we would go together. I thought of the others, lost somewhere around us, and wished they were embracing each other as well.

I imagined our mourning families and how they would come to know of our fate. Henrik was new in the hotel’s touring business. He used to be a car salesman before his own company went bankrupt. Desperate for work, it was later found he applied for the position with no experience, and forged credentials. The court would rule him innocent and all charges against the hotel were eventually dropped.

I know the sun won’t rise. I am in this moment forever.  

Eli slowly lifts her eyes up.

“Do you see Sirius…” She inhales sharply, stretching out a blue finger. “Over there…”

Nothing but damned white snow.

“Yes, I do, baby. Which one was that? The brightest star?”

I can feel her getting weaker. As her breathing becomes shallow, her grip on my hand loosens. I hold Eli in my arms, tears streaming down my face as I touch our foreheads together and plead, desperately.

“Tell me more, my love. Tell me more about the stars.”

* * *

The lights that twirl in the sky, coloring the most inhospitable place known to Man – what more could they be but the souls of the lost? Up there, shining in the dark, are the people who ventured too far, the ones claimed by the cold.

Hunted down and devoured, they are crystallized into glowing beauty.

And so, the Arctic adorns itself, paints polar darkness with bleeding light, and cautions Humanity – of its terror and of its might.

I’m tired, Eli, so tired. Without you, every breath I take is agony.

I lay down on the snow, stretching out my limbs in quiet surrender. The night is starry, you would have loved it.

And then, right there, on the edge of the green hues, I see it.

First a little speck, then a growing stream, until so many shades of purple flutter in the sky.

I smile. “Where have you been?”