Architecture in Helsinki part 4 – The Boatman

The second time K met the angel it was even more impressive. At first he thought there were no pyrotechnics involved this time. He was wrong. It was a simple afternoon, one of the last ones of summer. Even if summer was already over. It was a late afternoon. K and the angel were just sitting on the grass, on a kaiseniemi park, he telling her about his existential doubts, while she told him about the ennui of being an angel. She was wearing the same tap-dancing shoes. No wings, thought. Some passer-by who saw them would imagine they were two normal people sharing a bottle of wine and some stories. Except that she suddenly got up, as if getting tired of waiting for something to happen and touched the closest tree. It immediately became entirely yellow. Yellow like a dream. She then proceeded to another one and did the same. Except that this one didn’t turn yellow, it turned red, as red as sorrow. “That seems right” thought K, without saying anything “fate brings the fall”. She did so with most of the trees in the park. Then she signed him to come, to follow her as she was leaving the park. At the exit she looked back and blew the park a goodbye kiss. Most of the leaves, yellow and red and green, fell. K couldn’t tell if they had fallen in love or if they had fallen dead. It’s basically the same anyway, isn’t it?

“Where are we going?” Asked K.

“It doesn’t matter, let’s just walk. Our feet can only take us to the places where we belong, after all. And besides, it will be nice for me to exercise them for a change”.

And walk they did. Better yet, they drifted. Down kaiseniemi, up Kluuvi, through the cathedral square, where Fate didn’t even take a glance at the church, as if avoiding it. Then down again at Snellmann, near the cafés and the little cinemas. Those three or four streets seemed to K as the heart of the city. But, of course, that was only the case because he was truly and unconsciously egocentric. Fate touched every tree on their way, making them show their true colors. One of them, a seemingly old maple-tree, became a light shade of yellow so utterly completely that the branches and the whole body of it seemed like black veins of time connecting a meat of faded lost hopes.

Then, they went to the seaside. They walked through the street fair, Fate paying careful attention to the scents, like a connoisseur, and K dazzled by the shapes and colors, like a little kid. They listened to what people were saying, but neither of them understood anything.

They drifted again. This time towards the central station, danced almost unperceivable to the immigrant songs. Drifted even further, to pretend-land, observing the drunkards and their happiness and madness and the poetry of their unsteady steps.

They parted ways at the Glass Palace. It felt as if they had nothing else to talk about. They had been silent since the seaside. And their goodbye didn’t require any words. Fate went up Mannerheimtie, the only way she knew K wouldn’t go for sure. He stood there, watching her, as she touched many trees on her way to god knows where. They would meet again. And again. People, even angel-people, have needs, and company is one of those.

K had to drift alone, then. Except he felt like he had drifted enough. He listened to the boatman’s call, he listened to music. And his feet followed the sounds, carrying him to where he belonged. Carrying him to the same pretend-land of the drunkards. Carrying him to a great dim-lit hall, facing an empty stage. It reminded him of that David Lynch movie, the one with the song that goes on even when the lady isn’t singing it anymore.

His eyes drifted through the empty stage, through the room. Until they reached the marquee. There he saw the Lioness. Then he realized that all the time he was walking with Fate, he was trying to find her. Trying to find the magic in all those places. Trying to find rapture.

He ran to the stairs, he ran up the stairs, but found nothing up there. As always happens when someone searches for rapture.

He went out. He tried calling Fate, but she didn’t answer. He wanted to talk to someone. But wasn’t even sure if the things he felt could be made into words. But he needed someone to talk to, so he talked to himself. Throught Arkadia and then back to Runenberg, just like a few days before.

Then his phone rang. It was Fate calling back.