Icy Prison

By Erni-Szakács Szilárd

Icy Prison

It was a bleak winter day. Just like every other day on Jarvistensaari, the even more northern island of the northern hemisphere. The island did not have too many inhabitants; it was home to only some children and their parents. Perhaps it was better that there were only a few people living on the island. Perhaps otherwise, that close relationship among the residents, which an outsider might almost call family, would not have formed. They were a big family who helped each other.

The children there were already accustomed to the harsh weather, no natural phenomenon could command them, which is why they could allow themselves to play on the beach that day as well. They deliberated intensely. They argued about what to do, as almost all of them wanted to ski, which unfortunately they couldn’t do due to the geographical features of the island. They were also envious of the relatives who lived in the northernmost part of the peninsula, even though they all belonged to the same nation, yet it was as if the sea had separated them from each other. There, thanks to the mountain, skiing and sledding was part of the everyday routine. Oh, freedom is over there. As they were debating there, they noticed something in the water, something big and dangerous. 

They had often daydreamed about similar scenes and hoped that their wish would one day come true. They believed that now was their time. They could finally prove themselves. They had all heard chilling stories from their parents or grandparents about robbers and plunderers from distant lands, most of which were true, and they suspected that this time they might witness something like that. But the kids didn’t want to prove anything to their families; they wanted to impress the Eastern Tribe. They aimed to captivate every member of the rival gang.

Luka, the leader of the Eastern Tribe, always delivered a report to the island’s youth about their team’s incredible adventures during the annual fishing competition in Jarvistensaari. This year, he recounted tales of how they had stolen poor Uncle Erik’s geese, scared off a bear, and how the sea had gifted them a nearly intact boat. Such boasting always drove Oliver, one of the co-leaders from the Western Shore, up the wall. During these times, he would often sneak away to find his father, who was participating in the fishing competition, just to stay out of trouble, because generally, if he listened to Luka for more than ten minutes, he would end up hitting him. He couldn’t help it; that was the life of young island boys.

-“Do you know that nothing he says is true?” his father comforts him every year. But Oliver has always resigned himself to the fact that the West Coast would never be as famous, cool, and adventurous as the East Tribe. Until now.

Everyone was excited at the sight of the discovery, but Nooa, the other co-leader, did everything he could in order to control the situation.

-“Everyone, stop! This is a serious matter that requires careful planning! If the pirates land and find a group of screaming kids here, they will kill all of us with only one bullet, and then who will tell the tale of our heroic deeds at the fishing competition? I need discipline and workable plans, now!”

-“Let’s fight against them! We’ll make slingshots!” suggested Rasmus. 

-“I’ll suggest something else,” Nooa clarified. “Does anyone have a plan in which we don’t end up dead?”

-“I have!” Oliver replied after some thought, and finally they were about to implement his plan. Until then, Leo, appointed as sentinel, dozed off, losing sight of the approaching pirate ship. Panic broke out again among Westerners. Fear of death pushed them into a corner and they wanted to go home for one last meeting with their parents before the end came, but they were afraid to say no to their leaders. It was not dictatorial leadership, they were just the embodiment of the principle of “for better and worse”, these dozens of children. To their great relief, Hugo, the deputy sentinel, assured the others that today they will not become the food of pirates. Some were sad that there would be nothing to offend Luka with and they could go to the race empty-handed again, while others thanked that they didn’t die so young.

-“Why are you so sure, Hugo?” Sofia, one of the two girls asked.

-“Because it’s a whale,” Hugo replied calmly.

-“Pike, humpback or blue?” Mila, the other girl, inquired.

Hugo, with an unshaken face and noble simplicity, said:

– “Killer.”

– “What?!” – this question popped out of everyone at once. Even the sleeping Leo raised his head.

The initial panic broke out again, and Nooa calmed the group of children down again, and this time Rasmus came up with the best plan he could, and once again Oliver’s plan was voted the best. Time was running out, the whale was getting closer and closer, but the team wasn’t even half-finished. The tossing animal was almost on shore when Elias began to speak:

–  “My great-grandfather also died in a whale attack, although he was a fisherman and they were surprised on the high seas, but it will be a glory to follow in his footsteps on shore.”

Everyone waited in silence and fixed their eyes on the whale, all they could think about was that someone had to survive this so that their heroism would be passed down and one day it would reach Luka’s ears. It did, just not as planned.

It is known that the winters in Jarsvistensaar, whether early or late, are famous. They are so famous that everyone in the country knows that it is not worth travelling there in winter, so they do not usually do so. Nobody. The extreme cold and frost expel visitors really away from the area and imprison locals on the island. In this cold, the real heroes waited, ready to sacrifice themselves at any moment for glory. As they waited there for the bohemian creature, time froze, one moment did not follow another, the previous never ended and the next did not come. It seemed like an eternity for the mammal to wander ashore, but perhaps because it didn’t. Disappointment. This ran across everyone’s faces when they saw that the killer was not killing.

They ventured even closer to get a better look at the creation that would cause their death, and began to doubt Hugo’s whale knowledge when the outlines did not represent those of a whale. Everyone looked questioningly at the boy, who shrugged his shoulders and could repeat for thousands of times only one word „Sorry”. Once again they summoned up all their remaining courage and approached the one thrown ashore, the first and only winter traveller on the island. The girls were the first to comment on the stranger’s identity. Mila said:

– “But this is a human corpse,” shouted the girl.

-“It’s not just a human,” said Rasmus, “it is a man,” explained the boy.

– “I am sick and tired of this madness! I ask for no more of this adventure! I’m going home! And it will be better if you too, but first tell an adult about your great discovery,” Sofia exclaimed, and then Mila and Sofia left the shore. Only the man and the boys remained. Nooa covered the man with the blanket and began to wonder aloud:

– “Sofia is right, we need to tell our parents about this. He may still be alive.

– “Are you crazy?!” It’s the coolest prey of our lives and would you hand it over to adults with open arms? Elias countered.

– “Because this is the right decision,” Nooa replied.

– “Right decision, Honour … You always come with this righteousness, and justice. Why can’t you do something exciting once in a lifetime?” Elias continued.

While the boys were arguing about the man’s uncertain future, Oliver moved closer to the body to look at what had never been seen before, his face. He wished he hadn’t done that. He tried to hide his reaction, but he hardly knew that it was pure luck that the others were busy thinking about Elias, it turned out to be a perfect accidental diversion. Oliver looked away and stared at the pebbly shore with a staring face, he could only concentrate on not freezing the blood in his veins, and finally spoke softly:

–  “Anyone who has an unnecessary blanket or warmer should place it on the man. Leo and Hugo stay here and take care of the body while I go with the others to the Great House for help. Questions?”

Everyone looked at Oliver with amazement, they saw that he was a little paler than usual, but no one questioned either his well-being or his decision. They set off to get back before dark, hopefully with reinforcements. Leo took a seat next to him, but strictly with his back to him, he did not like corpses, even though his body was covered. Hugo just stood beside them and stared into nothingness, then a cold wind from the sea struck him and blew his gaze on the man’s hand. Purple or blue, he couldn’t determine the exact color for it. He was frightened and felt like being in a cemetery.

“I’m going to get firewood; we’re freezing here in threesomes. Until then, you stay here, I’ll hurry back,” Hugo said.

Leo nodded and returned to his busy activity of making weapons. Leo carved a spear out of a thicker stick he found beside him on the shore. During its preparation, he had not yet decided who he would use it against, against an enemy figure who wanted to rob him of the body, or against the body if it should turn against him, or against himself if the body belonged to a wizard who would bewitch him. He didn’t know that yet. As he was sharpening the end of the stick, he began to wonder more and more how the man came to them, to this desolate and scary land, and where this stranger comes from.

“He must have come from far away,” Leo insisted, “I suppose he doesn’t know the etiquette here. We don’t travel during winter! –Smiled. “That’s it, there’s nothing you don’t understand…  Leo heard a crackle and pulled out his half-finished, still blunt spear, but luckily, he didn’t have to use it because there was no one around, not even the corpse. The boy was frightened and drove up to look for him, or the corpse would find him, who knows, but then he stumbled upon Hugo. Hugo only gave his companion a disdainful glance and threw down the collected twigs.

“Now it’s your turn. Light it! Leo reached for the matchbox with trembling hands and took a quick breath.

– “What’s going to happen?” – asked with fear from Hugo.

– “What?… You’ll make a fire and we hope that you won’t be excluded from our community because you lost a corpse.”

– “I haven’t lost him. He walked away”- added Leo.

“Have you seen with your own eyes that he left this place on his own legs?

“No,” Leo said ashamedly, “but it was the only way it could have happened, there was no one here except me.

But there was, the man himself. And the gentleman indeed left on his own two feet, and someone knew exactly where he would go if this happened. Oliver knew because he recognized the man. He would recognize him among a thousand, alive or dead, but he didn’t think it was a good idea to share this information with anyone, lest it fall into the wrong hands, or worse, the wrong ears. The man did not come, nor did he go; he simply returned. He knew the tradition and came home for the winter, although a bit late, since it had been more than three years since he left. It was even in the newspaper: “The huge fish pulled the man into the water during a competition.” They buried his memory because his body was never found, until now. Everyone mourned and everyone felt sorry for the great guy with the tragic death, but the majority of the people felt sorry for his son, who was only eight years old at that time. Now he has returned, Luka’s father has returned.

As the boys were on their way to the Big House, Oliver noticed a noise coming from the forest towards them. His inner voice whispered that something wasn’t OK. He felt an overwhelming urge to burst into the frozen trees and expose the person sneaking around, but he couldn’t do it so conspicuously.

– “You’ve heard that this road is haunted by ghosts?” asked the boy.

‒ “What are you talking about?” – questioned Nooa, casting a worried glance at his fellow leader. 

‒ “Come on! You probably know the story of the spirit of the North. Well, he haunts here, on this road. I suggest we take this route instead”, – he pointed to a detour – “it’s safer here.”

In the blink of an eye, without a second thought, Rasmus stepped onto the path and looked back in surprise at the others, who didn’t really seem to want to follow him. 

‒ “What’s going on? We don’t have time all day!” – shouted Rasmus. – “Oliver, aren’t you coming?” 

‒ “I’ll keep an eye open to make sure the ghost doesn’t follow you.” 

‒ “How nice of you!” – Rasmus smiled sincerely and moved on. However, Nooa still cast suspicious glances at his comrade, and eventually he too set off.

Just as they disappeared into the thicket of bushes, the man appeared from the direction of the forest. He greeted Oliver with indifference, as much as a simple eye contact could be called a greeting. He stopped in front of him for a few seconds, just enough time for Oliver to read both the emptiness and the suffering in his eyes. The man set off down the path he thought was haunted, when the young man called out to him:

‒ “Hans, right?”

The man turned around and something began to sparkle in his eyes as he looked back at the boy. Perhaps the soul had just returned to him…

‒ “You must be Thomas’s son.”

‒ “Yes, that’s me.”

‒ “What are you doing here?” – Hans asked the boy.

‒ “What are you doing here? You wander around here like a real ghost. How is it still alive?”

‒ “Where is Luka?”

‒ “In the right place” – Oliver tried to refrain and at the same time defend his rival. 

The clever boy just didn’t account for his teammates turning back for him, thereby sabotaging his brilliant plan.

‒ “Oliver! You need to understand that as your co-leader, it is my duty to inform you that your behavior is concerning!” – Nooa burst out of the bushes directly towards Oliver, not even noticing Luka’s father. However, Rasmus was not in such a fortunate situation: 

‒ “Aaaa! Ghost!” – she shouted. 

By then, everyone could identify with the island’s climate. Even the air froze around them as they watched the unfortunate fisherman. 

“But you are dead,” Elias thought out loud, “or am I talking to a ghost now?”

Silence. For quite a few minutes, no one said anything. The tension was almost palpable, until it suddenly exploded. Something fell, but it wasn’t the members of the Eastern Tribe who dropped something; it was something else. In the heat of the turnaround, the members didn’t notice that someone had followed them there, precisely the one person who shouldn’t have. From behind the bush, the sound of a water bottle clattering was heard, followed by silence, and then a huge sigh that contained the pain of the entire world. He stepped out from the dense, thorny branches and, with tear-filled eyes, said: 

‒ “Father?” 

Hans opened his arms and reciprocated the tearful eyes. Nothing else mattered to him at that moment more than being able to hold his long-lost son in his arms again. Luka couldn’t believe his eyes. He examined his father from head to toe. He was different, yet the same. He had changed during the long, mournful three years, but not more than he had. Yes, life is cruel, he thought, but it would be even worse if he didn’t immediately hold his father, who had risen from the sea grave, so tightly that he would never let him go again. Never. 

That evening, the island’s population increased by one, meaning it returned to its original, usual state.

Erni-Szakács Szilárd was born on the 16th of September 1999 at the City of Oradea. He studied at the Partium Christian University at the English Language and Literature specialization. His research topic was The representation of refugees in the British media, which after graduation was published at Lambert Academic Publishing in 2023. He lives at the City of Oradea and considers that literature is a form of expression of the soul. Adores writing short stories, poems, reviews and scholarly papers