She’d get new clothes, eventually. New hair too. Should she keep her short blond hair? Or maybe long, brown curls would be nice for a change. She’ll decide on her new identity later. Once she moves back to the city.
Her improvised seat is no longer so uncomfortable now that the hard granite has made her numb. The sleepy forest surrounding her feels tranquil and static, like every branch and leaf and plant has frozen solid overnight. But they’ve yet to witness the first frost of fall. If the horses, dogs, cats, and rabbits that visit the barn weren’t shedding madly, she’d guess Mother Nature was planning to skip winter altogether this year.
A low rumble from her stomach breaks the uncanny silence. Did she forget to eat this morning, before she started this hopeful hike toward the city? An image of two crispbreads topped with cowberries flashes through her mind. No—she didn’t skip lunch after all. Or was it yesterday’s breakfast she’s thinking of? Or last night’s supper?
She scans the damp forest floor. Pine and spruce needles mingle with half-burned debris: stained and torn plastic bags, a disposable raincoat, a damaged bucket, mismatched gardening gloves, a white IKEA writing desk. Five, ten, and fifty-Euro bills poke out from the pile of abandoned belongings, moldering in the wet ground. She’s seen birds collecting them. They use the now worthless notes to build their nests in the spring.
About ten meters further on, another dump filled with random detritus rises from the underbrush: more things that no longer have any value. Not after their owners did their best to burn it all, before hurrying to their new lives in the buzzing city.
In the distance, streetlights flicker on. It’s too early, but the gloom of the day has fooled the automatic sensors into thinking it’s already nighttime.
A muffled sound echoes through the woods—someone hollering a child’s name. It makes Kaarina wish there was another path. An alternative route that she could use to travel deeper in the woods and further away from this dump that used to be the suburbs.
“Girl, you gotta find yourself a new pair of shoes.”
Kaarina reaches for the worn-out sneaker on the ground to closer investigate the damage. She rips off the half-attached duct tape and tosses it next to a burned teddy bear with one button eye. “Great idea Bill, thanks for that. I’ll add it to my shopping list, right after my new down jacket and a pair of un-holy socks.”
She pulls the now-tapeless shoe back on, grimacing when mud gushes between her toes. Continuing her journey is a must—she needs to get to the city and back before dark. Unsure whether she’s gathering her mind or her body, Kaarina sits still and stares at her shoes, one still held together with silver duct tape, one showing off her mud-soaked blue-green sock.
“It’s not a real word.”
“What isn’t?”
“Un-holy. Not a word. And is that manure that covers your so-called footwear? Christ on a crutch, Kay… I know things are bad but come on!”
Just like the wet sludge in her shoe, she pretends the voice in her head isn’t there. That she isn’t here. Alone in the woods beneath a ceiling of gray clouds, surrounded by damp surfaces and endless rows of mushrooms. Instead of coming up with a witty response, something to get Bill off her back, she counts the rows of chanterelles, milkcaps, and yellowfoots. Sixteen… twenty-nine…thirty-two. There are enough of them to feed a village. But there’s no village left for her to feed.
“Aren’t you getting sick of eating those things? Would it kill you to eat some meat? In case you haven’t noticed, it’s challenging to score vegan-points when most people around you are long dead or have all gone rogue.”
“I’ll stop by at the shop on my way back.”
“The small one by the brook? It’s empty, remember? Nothing left but free buckets and lottery tickets. Maybe you can catch a rat or two. Make some casserole.”
“I haven’t had meat since I turned twelve. And I’m not about to start eating it now. Just because finding food is more challenging doesn’t mean I need to change my ways.”
“And when there’s no food left? Of any kind? When it’s below freezing? Kay, you won’t last much longer. Not if you don’t go to them.”
“I don’t need them or anybody else. I’ll pull through on my own.”
And just as they have many times before, these stern words end their discussion. Bill’s right, of course. About the food. About everything. But she’ll find some other way. Anything but joining the animal-eating outcasts that hide on sight.
Kaarina’s hand wanders to her neck and finds a scar she got the last time someone suggested she should eat her animals instead of giving them shelter. Or at least let the others eat them. Because who cares what a loner living in an old abandoned barn eats? The carved line travels from her collar bone, up and across her throat, and onto her cheek.
Standing up for herself—for the animals—may have been considered bravery once upon a time. Stand up against bullying! Defend the weak! These days, for a fit but hopelessly petite twenty-two-year old woman to defy the black market and those who run it is considered nothing less than stupidity. And that stupidity came with a price: a mark on her face to remind her to think twice the next time she considers offering the Unchipped mushrooms and potatoes instead of horse or rabbit meat.
“So you’re going to sit there daydreaming until the bears come for you? Come on, Kay. It’s just a shoe. How far are we from City of Sweden?”
“Finland. It’s City of Finland. How can you still get it wrong? Yes, there was a time when Sweden ruled us.”
“I thought it was—”
“Yup, Russia did too. But that was long ago, when
