easter

BLUE CHOCOLATE EASTER EGGS, stolen from somewhere. I was seated in the Viljandi Library, organizing a gift for the librarians. But how many eggs to give each one? They needed to be allotted according to size. I wasn’t going to let any one librarian be the favorite. I filled the boxes, each one had an equal amount of smaller and larger ones. These were beautifully decorated, with golden designs circling the metallic blue. When this was all done, I left.

I had a broom in my hand, I had never tried to fly with a broom. Like a real witch, or male witch. What were we called? Warlocks? It was a clear, bright day, with a strong cool wind blowing down from the north, and I rose up into it with the broom between my legs. This proved hard to steer, I pointed the broomstick toward Kodukohvik, clawing at the cold air as if trying to swim, but the winds blew me back toward the Uku shopping center and I struck a giant billboard of my daughter’s fourth grade teacher, before sliding down to the ground.

There I was, on the hard stones of the sidewalk, when Ernesto came walking by, looking like a true troubador. He had on his black cap, this only drew more attention to his folk singer’s mustache. Ernesto said, “I have to go back to Chile, but I don’t want to, man,” he pulled at his eyelids as he did it. “I don’t want to go back.” He said Chile was full of liars and manipulators.

After that I went in a nearby cafe, where I ordered up a cappuccino. Who else should be sprawled out on the couch but Els Stenbock, nestled beneath a blanket in the blue light of the moon, her eyes all fire and her hair all gold, beads of sweat on her brow. I dove into her live one dives into a swimming pool. Struan Neil was there, he was jealous. Frowning, moping. He said, “You two are going to get married,” I said, “But we can’t, she’s already married.” She was.

Struan looked back with some agony at the baristas, but they were all attracted to the same sex, be they man or woman. There was no love to be had for this young Englishman, and so he walked sullenly out of the blue bar. I gave Els another kiss, and she purred there beneath the blanket. It felt good to be kissed, to have any intimacy at all. I had started to doubt in love all together and then … So there was one woman who did not despise me in this world? She was hiding out at the blue cafe on Tallinn Street? “Come back here and kiss me,” Els Stenbock said.

Outside though things in the streets had changed. This was no a longer town, these were the frozen wastes. A musket ball when whizzing by my head, and when I looked down, I saw that I was in the uniform of the Swedish army, on the side of Charles XII. The king! I was in the Great Northern War. I scrambled down a snowy hillside, more musket balls went flying by, and I heard the sounds of Russian being spoken from a nearby grove of spruces. The soldiers had built a barrier made of branches, and as I stood on these branches, I could see that I was standing on top of a deep, open well. I looked down into this frozen well and saw the branches emerging within. What good fortune that I hadn’t fallen. Who knew where that well went?

I decided after that to go back to the cafe, to the couch with Els Stenbock, where she no doubt lied in waiting for me, warm beneath a blanket. The only trouble was that there was no door anywhere. I was stuck, stuck in the Great Northern War. Stuck in 1700. Where was the door?