The Wooden Chair (20 page)

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Authors: Rayne E. Golay

Tags: #Literary

BOOK: The Wooden Chair
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“That’s obvious,” he said.

They sat silent, Leini’s hand in his.

Turning to face her, he planted a kiss on her cheek and stood. “You’re sweet. Come, let’s go find something to drink. I’m parched, aren’t you?”

She nodded, her hand still in his. They left the room. On their way to the table with drinks and finger food, they encountered a boy, beer bottle in hand, popping peanuts in his mouth.

“Hey, Mark.” Turning to Leini, Bo said, “Leini, meet my kid brother.”

His resemblance to Bo was striking; same light blue eyes and mop of blond hair. Mark nodded at Leini, his smile broad and generous like Bo’s. His intense eyes took in her tussled hair and blouse with a couple of buttons undone.

“Bo always knows how to pick the prettiest girls. He’s lucky that way.” He wrinkled his forehead, leaning closer to study her. “Your eyes,” he said, glancing to his left. “What’s wrong with your eyes? It’s crazy, I can’t tell if you’re looking at me or somebody next to me. It’s confusing.” A mischievous smile pulled at the corners of his mouth.

Again! Once more her wayward eye betrayed her. From habit, she avoided being face to face with people so she didn’t have to meet their eyes. She didn’t always manage the maneuver fast enough, and so her eye would let her down, causing the person opposite both discomfort and bewilderment.

For a moment Leini held her breath, afraid to speak, not wanting the boys to hear the catch in her voice. This was even more unbearable because Bo witnessed the scene. Now she’d embarrassed him, too.

“Nothing’s wrong with my eyes,” she said, half-sobbing.

Mark snickered. “If you say so.”

Turning her back on them, Leini rushed to the entrance and grabbed her coat off the top of the heap. She rushed through the door, ran down the stairs into the street as racking sobs were tearing her apart. If Bo called after her, she didn’t hear. A few houses down the street she huddled in a doorway until she regained control enough to think. She knew there was a nearby pay phone and made a dash for it. Fumbling in her purse, she found some change and dialed. The phone rang once, twice, then one more time. She glanced at her watch—past midnight. About to hang up, the phone was answered.

“Hello!” A voice thick with sleep.

“Grandpa! Oh, Grandpa…”

“Leini? What’s happened? Are you all right?” The sleepiness was gone, concern in its place.

“No.” She sobbed. “My eyes. Somebody said my eyes are…he doesn’t know where I’m looking.”

“Take it easy, my princess. Listen to me. Are you at home?”

“No, I’m in a phone booth. I’ve been to a party at Annalisa’s on Park Street.”

“I know where it is. There’s a taxi stand on the street corner. Can you see it?”

She peered through the grimy window. “Yes, I see it. A cab is there now.”

“Good. Take the cab home. Right away, you hear me?”

“Yes, Grandpa, I hear you.” Her teeth were chattering even though her body burned as from a fever, and tiny black spots swirled before her eyes.

“Calm down, Leini. I’ll come see you first thing in the morning.”

When she remained silent, Grandpa’s voice became insistent. “Leini, answer me.”

“Yes, Grandpa.” An ache pounded in her temples. “I’ll take the cab and go straight home.”

“That’s my girl. I have some very good news. I’m sure you won’t be disappointed.”

In the cab on the way home, Leini couldn’t stop crying. The slights, like tonight, happened often, mainly at school. With Paula’s help, she had learned to reason them away.
Ignorant people saying thoughtless things.
Tonight hurt more than usual because Bo overheard the insult. He could have any girl he wanted, but he’d chosen her. More than anything she’d wanted to be normal, to belong, but again she was made to feel different because of that detestable eye.

Chapter 19

Helsinki, May 1956

Key in hand, Leini hesitated at the apartment door, fearing Mira might be awake. Leini’s throat tightened, each breath a struggle. After tonight’s humiliation, she wasn’t prepared to give an account of the evening. She smoothed her hair and tucked the blouse inside the skirt, doing up the buttons. There was nothing she could do about the run in her stocking or the tear-streaked face she’d glimpsed in the mirror in the elevator coming up. These were details Mira’s eagle eyes were sure to spot, and she’d pounce on Leini.

With a deep breath, Leini turned the key. As quiet as she could, she opened the door. Shoes in hand, she crept like a shadow along the hall. A board in the old oak parquet creaked underfoot. She stopped, listened. All was quiet; only the whisper of a mild wind and the distant scream of an ambulance came through the half-open window.

Leini continued toward her rooms, the pounding of her heart loud in her ears. By the door she stopped again. If opened too slowly, the door would grind. Depressing the handle, she swiftly pushed it open…and stood paralyzed.

The light was all wrong. She always turned on a lamp in the sitting room before she left. Now it was dark. A sliver of light from her bedroom fell on the floor.

Leini’s first reaction was to run. Flee the apartment, escape Mira, leave this unbearable life behind. Thoughts jumbled her mind, fear reduced her to a groveling zombie unable to react. Conflicting thoughts and feelings made it difficult to think—fear of Mira, Mark’s insensitive comment, the budding determination never to let anybody humiliate her again. She took a step inside. With her back against the wall, she slid to the floor, sitting folded upon herself, head bent, forehead resting on knees. She cringed at the soft sound of approaching steps. With eyes squeezed tightly closed the click of a light switch reached her. The steps came closer. They stopped next to her.

“Leini! What on earth is wrong? Are you hurt?”

At the sound of his voice, she leaned her head back to see him. “Papi? Oh, Papi.” Tears of relief streamed down her face and dripped on her black blouse.

Taking a hand to her, Papi helped her stand. She went into his arms, and swayed with him as he held her. He caressed her head, running wide circles against her back. Little by little the sobs quieted, the tears stopped.

“Feeling better, my pet?”

She nodded. “A bit.”

“How about telling me what’s wrong?” In his gentle way, he walked her to the couch. Holding her in his arms, he sank down with her next to him on the seat.

“Didn’t you have a good time at the party? Was it something Bo did?”

Surprised, she stared at him. “Did Mira tell you about Bo? That I had a date with him, I mean?”

“She did, yes.”

Her hand reached for a lock of hair and twined it around her fingers. “I wasn’t going to tell her, but then she wouldn’t let me go out tonight, so I had to.” And added, “Mira should learn to keep quiet. Everything I tell her becomes public knowledge.” Leini didn’t mind that Papi knew she was seeing Bo, it was no secret—but it rankled that she couldn’t trust Mira to keep things to herself.

Next to her Papi sighed. “I’m sure Mira didn’t mean any harm. I think she was glad you had a date.”

“You defend her too much, Papi. Can’t you see what she’s doing to us, to you and to me? She bosses us around like a drill master. She pulls the strings, and like puppets we jump to her will. It’s sick and I …” Sobs cut off the rest of the sentence.

Out of love and respect for Papi, she had learned to keep her thoughts about Mira to herself. Papi took her side against Mira as often as he could, but she guessed he, too, feared Mira’s violent temper, her anger
. If only he knew how badly I need for him to be my ally, but I guess he wants peace more than he wants to protect me.
For years, she suffered Mira’s hostile and aggressive treatment in silence. Leini preferred to ignore her scorn rather than risk losing Papi’s love if she spoke her mind. Tonight was different; the bough broke, and all her sorrow and pain and loneliness poured out in half-spoken words, a stream of tears.

Papi held her, now and then dabbing at her face with his soggy handkerchief as he murmured sounds of comfort.

Leini tried to talk between clusters of sobs that wouldn’t quit. “I wish you’d leave Mira. Really leave her, go away, take me with you.” She sat straight, patted her face with Papi’s hankie. “If you’ll divorce her, I’ll come with you. We’ll go anywhere you want.” She gazed at him, willing him to do as she asked.

“My pet, I can’t leave her. I tried once, some years ago.”

She turned her full attention on him—this was news to her. “So why did you return?”

Papi played with the fingers on one of her hands. “You see, my Leini, I love her. And because Mira was very ill, I couldn’t leave her.”

A half-forgotten memory surfaced. “Was that when Mira was taken by ambulance to the hospital, unconscious?”

“Yes, the incident brought me back.”

Papi loves her. Mira’s so nasty and controlling, I don’t understand what’s to love.
“But…” She stopped, not quite sure how to continue or if she even should say anything more.

“But what, Leini girl?”

Leini crossed arms over chest. “Mira wasn’t sick then—she tried to commit suicide. She swallowed pills, drank some whiskey. Then she called Karl to come rescue her, saying she couldn’t live without you.”

She slipped her hand in his. “Papi, that’s emotional blackmail, and you know it.” Taking a deep breath, she was determined to speak her mind before he hushed her. “Can’t you see Mira is out of control? She never eats anything. She’s mere skin and bones because she vomits after almost every meal.”

Taking a shaky breath, each heartbeat an echo in her throat, she found the courage to continue. “Mira drinks, Papi. Alcohol. It isn’t normal that she drinks straight out of the bottle before going to work in the morning. Some evenings, she’s so drunk you have to help her to bed.” She gazed at him, imploring him. “I’ve often heard you say that a person who can’t control the drinking is sick, an alcoholic and should get help. Why do you let this go on? Mira is sick and needs help.”

She closed her eyes for an instant. “Papi, you could give her an ultimatum—either she accepts treatment for both alcoholism and problems with food or you’ll leave her.”

Out of breath she stopped talking. She hardly dared look at him. For a while, all she could hear was his heavy breathing, as if it cost him an effort to pull air into his lungs.

“You’re probably right, Leini. There’s nothing I can do. If I left her and something happened to her, if she did away with herself because of me, I couldn’t live with myself. It’s a risk I’m not willing to take.” His voice was thick from emotion. “Please try to understand, my pet?”

Leini frowned. “Why don’t you insist on her seeing a psychiatrist?”

“You know Mira. She would claim I’m implying she’s crazy. Never would she agree to see a psychiatrist.”

She sighed.
He’s her victim, and he can’t see it. She plays him like an instrument, and he can’t see it. Like pawns, Mira sets us up one against the other. Samy against me. Me against Papi. Papi against Samy. It’s unhealthy and cruel, and it’s making me sick.

Knowing Papi was determined not to make any changes in the situation, all further discussion was pointless, so she let the matter drop. To change the subject, she told him about the incidence with Mark.

“His remark about my queer eye really hurts.”

Then she remembered her conversation on the phone with Grandpa and told Papi about his strange promise.

“He said he’d be here ‘first thing,’ but Grandpa doesn’t usually get up early on Sundays. Why is he coming, I wonder?”

“I’ll leave it to Grandpa to tell you in the morning.”

“Oh, so you know, do you?”

He caressed her cheek with the back of his hand. “Yes, Leini girl, I know. Grandpa made me promise to let him tell you in person.” He yawned. “You have to be patient until morning.” Stretching, he stood. “Let’s go to bed. It’s late and I’m tired. You must be, too.” He opened his arms to her. “Here, give me a hug.”

Leini watched him leave the room, a little stooped, his steps heavy. Sadness engulfed her that he could see no way out of this impasse with Mira. At the same time her heart filled to bursting with a warm feeling of love for him.

Chapter 20

Helsinki, May 1956; Vienna, June 1956

The following day dawned a cloudless, crystalline blue, the sun warm. A soft breeze played in the birch trees visible from Leini’s open window. Fragrant air, laden with seaweed and brine and lilac blossoms, reached her from the sea.

Anticipation and excitement awakened her hours before her usual time. Long before Grandpa was due, she showered and was dressed in a marine-blue straight skirt and canary-yellow sweater set. Her only jewelry was a watch and the small diamond ring Grandma Britta gave her on her sixteenth birthday. She had a very light breakfast in case Grandpa wanted to share a cup of coffee and a Danish with her.

Leini wondered about Grandpa’s news. After her failed operation, he promised to find help for her. At times she toyed with the idea that he had, indeed, found a miracle cure, but as time went by, nothing materialized, and she lost every flicker of hope. Gradually, she adjusted to her handicap, though she never accepted it. As much as she could, she avoided looking in the mirror, convinced that she looked like a freak. Nothing could restore her sight, and Leini no longer believed anything could make her appear normal.

When the doorbell rang shortly after ten, she rushed to the door before anyone else. She wanted to be alone with Grandpa, to listen to what he had to say without Mira’s interference.

Somewhat red in the face, Grandpa mopped perspiration with a handkerchief. He pulled her close, planting a kiss on each cheek. “You look great this morning, my princess. Feeling better than last night, I hope?”

“I’m happy to see you, Grandpa. And yes, I’m feeling much better.”

While they talked she led him to her room. He lowered his large frame onto the couch and accepted the cup of coffee Leini handed him. “One lump of sugar and a cloud of cream, right Grandpa?”

“As usual.” Smiling, he stirred his coffee and took a little sip.

Leini’s wiped her moist palms on her skirt. “On the phone last night, you said you have news for me. I’m terribly curious, so please tell me.”

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