The Saami had come from depopulated towns and settlements where drink was the only diversion. Russians took to drink quickly but for the Saami it took only one glass. Alcohol became an utter disaster that cut down their tribe like weeds. All that was left was to move into the taiga where they could breed reindeer and live the nomadic lives their forebears had led on the Kola Peninsula for centuries.
The herders brought Savage a sweater left by a previous guest. «Black face,» the Saami said of him and Savage couldn't tell whether they meant he was actually Black or from the Caucasus. He had almost drowned in the swamp that had ingested his bag. He had taken a wrong turn and lay on a cold stone, clutching it in his arms. The Saami rescued the runaway, plied him with herbal infusions and escorted him to the border. The herders believed guests were brought to them by spirits and so as not to anger them they took everybody in, fed them and warmed them up.
The Saami liked their new guests. They were sitting silently close to each other by the fire, listening to the mutterings of an elderly female shaman and swaying to their rhythm. In her ornate, guttural melodies they could hear the wind tickling the trees that gurgled with laughter and then the whole forest swayed and laughed confounding the hunters who were on their trail.
«Our settlement closed. My dad went south,» mumbled Salmon, keeping them awake. «And Mum took to drink. There were carers, going around, picking up abandoned kids and, when they heard me crying, they dragged me out from under the bed, like a lost ball. They took me…»
«What about your mother?» asked Savage, propping himself up on one elbow.
«I don't know what happened to her. I can hardly remember what she looked like. When I think about her, she's mixed up with the nanny at the home. I can't even say what colour eyes she had… At the children's home, we were ten to a room and slept two to a bed. They fed us porridge and soup with about as much taste as water. The only joy was the aid. The Finns used to send us things and food and we stuffed ourselves with sweets so that the next day the whole home had stomach ache. We hung around in the streets, begging for change and cigarettes and no-one took any notice of us. The ordinary kids didn't play with us. They stayed clear of us. If some girl was seeing an ordinary boy, they used to hide in the entryways. He'd be embarrassed to be seen with her and she'd be scared the kids from the home would beat up someone from outside.»
Savage remembered the grubby, shaven-headed kids who moved in crowds. You could recognize the orphans by their blistering frowns and imported hand-me-downs, crumpled and ill-fitting. Someone would have sleeves that hung down round their feet. Someone else wouldn't be able to fasten up their jacket.
«Coffin looked after us,» said Salmon, clutching her legs to her chest and cringing at the memories. «He made a gang out of cleverest and meanest ones and people were more frightened of the kid gangsters than they were of the grown-ups. Saam let the little boys call him Daddy and, for that, they were ready to tear apart anyone that was pointed out to them.»
When his daughter was small, Savage used to take her to the playground. The rusty slide had fallen on its side, the swings were broken and the benches covered in adolescent declarations of love. The place was littered with bottles and garbage and the ground bristled with shards of glass. Savage liked going there, getting away from people. He always picked quiet, secluded spots. A small boy in a pair of girl's bright green dungarees started to appear in the playground. He would watch Savage's daughter from a distance as she messed about in the sandpit but he didn't go any closer. Savage offered him a toy and the boy took it and hid behind the slide. The next day Savage brought some chocolate. Savely began to take a bit out of his minuscule salary to buy the boy treats and they soon made friends. The child complained that the carers at the children's home hit him and let him go hungry. To begin with Savage believed everything he said but the stories grew more and more outlandish and contradicted one another. Savage wasn't cross. The kid wanted people to feel sorry for him and he did.
Even so, Savage called in at the children's home.
«You want to adopt Lenya?» The manager waved her hands.
Stammering in embarrassment, Savage mumbled that he hadn't made up his mind. By then, he was already being taken down a long corridor painted a pale pink. Children seized his hands, gazing into his eyes and whispering: «Have you come to get me?» A small girl ran after him holding out her doll and Savely could feel the children looking after him, frozen to the spot.
Savely was told about the boy's parents who had got to know one another at school and made their baby after lessons. They both had families now so they never visited Lenya, putting him out of their minds like an unwanted object and when they ran across the shaven-headed little boy in town, they didn't even know he was their son. Savely was shown the little boy's room, his school planner and drawings and he was already sorry he'd come.
The manager brought Lenya in, dressed in funny trousers that were too long for him and he kept on pulling them up so as not to tread on them. Biting his nails, Lenya looked at Savage with shining eyes and Savage's nose tickled. He turned away and secretly wiped his eyes, determined to adopt the boy.
«The ones who were going to be adopted were never forgiven,» Salmon mumbled as if she could read his mind. «They became outcasts. They were beaten up. Nobody talked to them and when they were collected we spat at them. Even I felt that all my misfortunes came from a little girl in my room, who'd been selected for adoption. I set fire to her curly hair one night and was locked in the basement for a few days.»
That evening, Savage explained everything to his wife, banging his fist on the table, trying to persuade her and win her over. He even threatened divorce. She merely bit her bloodless lips, nervously twiddling the edge of the tablecloth. Pressed against the door, Vasilisa listened in to their argument and couldn't understand whether to be delighted that she was going to have a little brother or to cry. In the morning, Mrs Savage set off for the children's home, red lipstick on her bitten lips, thick mascara on her lashes which she fluttered as if they were giving a round of applause. Closeted away in the manager's office, she liberally cursed children and carers alike, coming out in blotches with shouting.
The little boy never showed up in the playground again. When the manager met Savage in a shop, she pretended not to know him. And when he plucked up his courage to go to the children's home, she lowered her gaze and told him quietly: «You'd better leave!»
Savage held Salmon more tightly and his face burned as if he'd been slapped.
«And the gangsters went out with the girlies. They married them. Saam was going to marry me. I was so beautiful. But then he drove me away…»
Savage reached for a bundle the old Saami woman had given him. He broke a sweating creamy cheese in half and offered a chunk to Salmon.
«I've got a different name now and I'm different too. The old woman said they change the name of a poorly baby to deceive the evil spirits,» said Salmon with a sad smile. «Maybe that's why I'm still alive, because my death got confused and can't find me.»
«What were you called before?»
«Severina. I didn't know my real name. The nanny at the children's home wasn't all there, she used to give the children unusual names. We had a Serafima and an Isaura. Life was shit but at least you had a pretty name.»
Savage ran a finger over a blue vein as hard as a rope beneath her skin.
«I was dealing, started to dabble a bit, then I got hooked,» she said, hiding the track marks. «I got jaundice from all the withdrawals. I was like a skeleton… And I used to be so pretty… Coffin suggested getting rid of me. He said I wouldn't last long anyway. I was with him all the time. I knew all his business, heard all his conversations. I know who he killed and why, where they're buried… Saam took me off into the forest. I knew why straight away but he was sorry for me.»