The Wooden Chair (11 page)

Reluctant to get drawn into a discussion about her eyes, Leini thought before answering. “It’s not so bad,” she said at length. “Maybe I can’t do any of those things, but I read and listen to music, lots of other things, like the movies. You know I love the movies.” She made her voice firm as if it didn’t matter that she couldn’t take part in sports, or wasn’t one of the crowd

Leini suffered during these twice-daily treks between home and school. Her eyes ran from the cold, tears freezing on her stiff cheeks. The cold was a fact of life. It was a nuisance, but she didn’t let it bother her. Eventually the weather would break, and the snow would thaw.

Paula took her hand, held it tight. “What’s wrong with your eyes?”

Leini’s reluctance was huge as a boulder inside to be talking about this sensitive matter. “What’s it to you? Why do you want to know?”

“You’re my almost sister. I want to understand what it’s like for you.”

“Okay. The ophthal…the eye doctor calls it a visual impairment. It’s quite a handicap. When I was about two years old, it started as a squint. Over time, it grew worse, made me see double every now and then. Now I see double more and more often.” A sob, like a hiccup, got away. “It’s hell every day. Long distance, I hardly see at all. Middle distance, my world is blurry. Up close, I see double.

“I’m sure you’ve noticed I often stumble and walk into obstacles, I send objects crashing to the floor when I misjudge a horizontal surface. I’m afraid all the time—of hurting myself, or breaking things. So far, nothing dramatic has happened.”
One day, something may go seriously wrong
. She grinned at Paula to hide the sadness inside. “Thanks for listening, for being my only real friend.”

When Leini finally reached her building, her whole body was stiff from the cold. Harry opened the heavy front door, a welcoming smile on his freckled face. His big paw closed around her arm to keep her from slipping on the icy step. With a deep sigh, like a sob, relief lightened her as she scuttled inside the comforting warmth of the foyer.

“You made it, Leini,” Harry said. “Such a brave girl.” He held a steaming mug of chocolate to her. “Here. Before you go upstairs, have a hot drink to thaw you.”

Leini couldn’t see through her glasses, fogged over by the change in temperature. Her lips and face were so stiff from the cold her attempt at a smile turned into a grimace. Before she could remove her mittens Harry held the mug to her lips. She took a few sips of the rich drink, warm and soothing.

“Pity no trams or buses go to your school.”

Shrugging, she continued sipping until the mug was empty, as she gazed over the rim at him.

“Thanks, Harry. That helped. I feel warmer already.” She tried to hug him, but didn’t quite make it for her bulky schoolbag and layers of clothing. With his thumb Harry wiped away the mustache of chocolate on her upper lip. While they waited for the elevator he moved his palm in circles on her back. Appreciating his show of affection, she leaned against his hand. Looking up into his kind blue eyes, a wave of warmth invaded her.
I love him like Papi, like Karl.
She couldn’t remember ever having seen him in a bad mood. He always wore a kind smile, and a curl of sandy brown hair fell onto his forehead. She didn’t doubt he was a safe presence in her life and she could count on his friendship.

Smiling, she waved. “Thanks a lot.”

In the elevator, she punched the button to the fifth floor. With stiff fingers Leini fumbled in her schoolbag until she located the key to the apartment and let herself inside. In the hall, she switched on the light and peeled off the outer clothing until she was down to her pleated marine blue skirt and blue pullover, hating the color because she knew it turned her olive complexion an anemic pale yellow.

“Tatta, I’m home,” she called toward the kitchen to their maid living with them since Papi was released from the hospital after the war. As there was no answer. Leini crossed the hall and pushed open the swinging door. Tatta stood by the sink dicing vegetables. She turned in Leini’s direction, her profile sharp with its pointed nose and chin, the lips so thin they were lost in vertical feathery wrinkles around her mouth.

“I’m home,” Leini said again. She leaned her behind against the wall to put on her slippers.

Tatta gave Leini a cold stare from watery blue eyes. “I heard you.” She spoke Finnish with a slight accent, the consonants hard, a giveaway of her Russian origins. She nodded in the direction of the counter. “There’s an orange and some raisins and almonds.”

“Thanks, I don’t want any. I had a mug of chocolate with Harry.” She turned. “I’m going to do my homework,” she threw over her shoulder as she let the door swing shut.

Chapter 11

Helsinki, Fall 1947

Somebody had turned off the wall light, so the long corridor to Leini’s suite of rooms was dark. She stumbled, but managed not to land on her knees by leaning against the wall.
Must be Samy who’s switched off the lamp.
For her sake the light was supposed to be on day and night, but Samy—the little beast—never missed an opportunity to cause her trouble. As she opened the door too the suite, she found him kneeling on her desk chair, his head with its shock of blue-black curls bent over some papers. As she approached, she discovered him busy doing artwork with crayons on her piano score.

Red dots flickered before her eyes. Her whole body shook from anger that Samy was in her room, handling her things.

“What do you think you’re doing in my room?” She couldn’t help but shout. Her loud voice made Samy jump. As she drew closer his guilty look turned sly.

“I can be here if I want to. Mamma says I can do anything I want.”

“No, you can’t. Papi’s told you over and over you’re not supposed to be in my rooms. Now you’ve ruined my piano score! And my crayons.” She held out her palm with a few mashed colorful batons. “Look at them! You’ve crushed them against the paper, now they’re useless.”

He stared at her out of large eyes, a smirk on his rosebud of a mouth. With his broad, stubby fingers Samy broke a crayon in half. “So what? It’s only paper and a few silly sticks of wax.”

“You stupid boy, they’re expensive. Papi bought them for me.”

Leini grabbed him by the arm. Almost six years his senior, she was taller and stronger. With a yank she pulled him from the chair. His behind hit the floor, and he started howling at the top of his voice. Kneeling next to him, she shook him.

“Keep quiet. Samy! Shut your mouth.”

He screamed even louder.

“What’s going on here?”

Rising to her feet, Leini faced Mamma as she advanced on her. Mamma pulled Leini by the ear and twisted it, a burning punishment that hurt for several hours. Gathering Samy in her arms, Mamma crooned to him tender words of comfort. Setting Samy on the couch by the window, Mamma rounded on Leini.

“You hateful brat. How many times do I have to tell you to leave Samy alone! You’re older and should have more sense, but you behave like the ungrateful snot-nosed twerp you are.”

“He’s ruined my piano score and crayons. Anyway, he’s not supposed to be in my rooms when I’m not here.” Staring at Mamma, she tried to catch her eye, but Mamma kept her gaze fixed at a point above Leini’s head.

Mamma took a step closer, her hand raised to strike. “Don’t you dare talk back at me. How many times do I have to tell you a good girl doesn’t have fits of temper? Very obviously you’re not a nice girl.”

Leini faced her. She stretched to her full height, head held high, back straight as if she’d swallowed a rod. With lips pursed, she stared Mamma full in the face.

“I am a nice girl. I am not a brat or a twerp. Don’t say that again, Mira. Ever!”

Her voice was strong and firm, but her heart hammer hard in her chest and echoed at the base of her skull. She found it difficult to believe she’d dared defy Mamma.

This was the first time Leini called her Mira.

On that very day, at that precise moment, she ceased to look upon Mira as her mother. Mira was a woman who was a painful part of her life, nothing more.

Rooted to the spot, Mira leaned forward from the waist. Leini saw her arm raised to strike. She looked at Mira, an intent, unwavering stare. Their eyes met, measuring, guarded, engaged in a battle of wills. Mira averted her eyes first. She let her arm drop to her side.

“You’re to stay in your rooms tonight.” Mira’s voice was flat. “You’ll get your dinner on a tray.”

Good! Papi isn’t home, so I don’t have to watch Mira play with her food, and Samy eat like a pig.

“And don’t forget the appointment with the eye doctor tomorrow morning. I want you clean and dressed at ten sharp. Don’t be late, because I have to be at work in the afternoon.”

Leini had forgotten about the doctor’s appointment. At the reminder an iron fist squeezed her insides; her mouth was so dry her tongue was like a piece of leather. There had been so many visits to ophthalmologists in the past. The outcome was always the same—her eye problem was serious. No cure existed. She wore corrective glasses, but they did little to improve her vision.

When Leini didn’t answer, Mira took a step closer. “Did you hear what I said?”

“I heard you.” She didn’t add “Mamma,” as Mira always demanded.

Mira took Samy in her arms and with heels clattering on the parquet she slammed the door as she left the room.

For a moment Leini stood motionless. Hopelessness and fear roiled inside. She leaned her back against the wall and slid to the floor, arms encircling her knees. As long as anger burned within her, she didn’t hesitate to defy Mira, but now that she was calm again, she knew she was no match for Mira.
I’m still afraid of her. She has all the power.
Hot tears burned Leini’s eyes. Although she was shaking inside, not a sound escaped her.

* * *

The next morning Leini couldn’t eat breakfast. Her throat was so tight she very nearly choked on a piece of toast. Like a stone, fear lodged in her stomach. Every time she saw the ophthalmologist was an ordeal. The mere thought of somebody touching her face or head caused her to shudder from dread.

Mira emerged from her room, dressed and made up. Leini wrinkled her nose at the heavy stench of her perfume. They didn’t exchange a word as they put on their overcoats and took the elevator to the ground floor. Mira nodded at Harry and wished him good morning. As he gave her the thumbs up, Leini wiggled her fingers at him.

They arrived in the doctor’s office a few minutes ahead of time. Mira sat in the chair opposite the door to the examination room. She patted the seat by her side for Leini to sit. Defying her, Leini chose the couch across the room.

The secretary opened the door to Doctor Kallio’s office and motioned for them to enter. Leini’s heart leaped in her chest, and she rubbed moist hands against her skirt.

Leini liked the doctor. He was so gentle and patient, her anxiety shrank to manageable size, and she could breathe again. The doctor always talked directly to her, not like most adults, who spoke to Mira as if Leini didn’t exist or was too dumb to understand.

“There,” he said, as he finished his examination. He switched off the instrument light. “I’m done.”

With his help Leini put on her glasses. Doctor Kallio took a long time writing his notes. The silence grew. Leini kicked the heel of her shoe against the chair leg. Mira, outside the pool of soft yellow light, raised a finger and shook her head at Leini to stop her fidgeting.

The doctor stroked his shaggy mustache, the color of sand. Gazing at Leini, he patted her hand. “It doesn’t look good, Leini. The strabismus—the squint—on your right eye is worse than during your last checkup six months ago.”

Leini read compassion in his kind eyes The skin around them was wrinkled, although she didn’t think he was very old. She nodded.

Mira stirred. “Isn’t there anything you can do? The poor girl is suffering.”

“Of course you’re suffering,” he said, squeezing Leini’s hand. “There’s surgery, but the procedure is in its experimental stages. I’ve studied the method in Chicago. I can operate, but the post-operative phase is the cause of most failures.”

“Would an operation help her?” Mira asked.

Everything in Leini rose to scream against an operation. She didn’t want surgery, and that was final.

“Yes, the operation itself would help. In Leini’s case, this is what I would do.”

In simple terms the doctor explained the protocol. Leini followed his outline. It sounded uncomplicated. It also sounded terrifying because he was talking about operating on her eye. She would be given full anesthesia so she wouldn’t feel any pain during surgery.

“The first week following the operation is crucial for the outcome. You would have to lay very still, not move your head at all until the healing is well on its way. I won’t minimize the importance of the period after surgery. The stitches that hold the eye muscles will be attached to a little piece of metal, like a bridge that’s taped to your forehead and cheek.”

He touched her forehead just above the eyebrow and her cheek under the eye. “It’s extremely important this holder doesn’t move.” He leaned forward on his stool and took Leini’s chin in his hand. “If it’s disturbed before the eye muscles are healed, the stitches could come undone. I cannot predict what this would do to your eye.”

Leini shuddered.

“When can you operate?” Mira asked.

Leini glared at her.
Hadn’t she heard a word of what the doctor said?

“Not before Leini is willing and ready to undergo it. If I operate, I will need your full cooperation, or it won’t be a success. Alone, I can’t do it. You have to help me—by being very still.” He emphasized each word by tapping her wrist with his slim forefinger. “It’s terrible to put such a burden on somebody so young, but I can only do so much. If you’re not certain you can take the boredom and discomfort of lying still on your back for a week….” Doctor Kallio shrugged, spreading his arms in a gesture of surrender. “It’s difficult at your age to be still. A whole week of lying on your back can be tough. You won’t be allowed to read or even turn your head.”