The Wooden Chair

by Rayne E. Golay

  Surprised, Leini turned on her side to look at Tatta. “Karl? Is Karl here? To see me?”

  “You heard me. Now be quick. I’ll bring tea and some Christmas cookies I just finished baking.”

  Before Leini saw him, Karl’s deep voice reached her.

  “A cup of tea would be nice, and who can resist your cookies, Tatta?”

  Jumping off the bed, Leini rushed to greet him, heart light with joy, but also sadness that she’d kept him away. Now that he was here, she knew she’d missed him so very much. She inhaled the familiar ‘Tabac’ in his cologne.

  “Ah, Karl, I’m sooo glad to see you!”

  “And I’m glad to see you, little Leini.”

  As he shrugged out of his topcoat, Tatta reached for it. “I’ll be right back with your tea.”

  Karl thanked her. Then he focused all his attention on Leini. “How is my best girl?” He held her by the shoulders. “And where’s my hug? Or are you too big to hug?”

  Timid, she shook her head and stood a little stiff, letting him hug her, brushing her lips against his cheek, cool from the chilly outdoor air. With her hand in his, he led her to the couch by the window.

  Tatta brought a tray and set it on the low coffee table. She poured the tea, added sugar and milk for Leini. “Have some cookies. You’re way too thin.” She gazed at Karl. “Make sure she eats something or she’ll waste away.”

  Once they were seated, sipping tea, Karl handed Leini a packet wrapped in colorful paper tied with a bright green bow.

  Leini took the packet, placed it in her lap. “What is it, Karl? May I open it now or is it for Christmas?”

  He smiled and winked at her. “It’s for now. Open it.”

  Whenever she was given a present, she didn’t know what constituted the appropriate show of enthusiasm. Should she take care not to pull away the string and rip off the paper? Then again, was she impolite if she took her time to undo the knot in the ribbon, carefully opening and unfolding the paper? Her upbringing said do one thing while excitement and impatience whispered to do the other. She now shook the packet, but didn’t hear anything. She gazed at Karl.

  “Come on, Leini. I know you’re dying to see what’s inside, so hurry.”

  With heart beating fast, her fingers flew over the packet, tearing the wrapping, revealing a white carton. Inside, she found an oblong wooden box, its carving intricate. Opening the golden hasp, she raised the lid. On green velvet lay a metal cylinder decorated with bright pieces of glass in an intricate pattern. She turned it in her hands, not quite understanding what it was.

  “It’s beautiful.”

  Taking the tube from her, Karl leaned closer. “It’s a kaleidoscope, my sweet. Here, let me show you.” He held one end to her good eye, turning it slowly. “Can you see anything?”

  “Oh yes,” she whispered, fascinated by the brightly colored pieces of glass tumbling inside. They settled into pretty patterns and color combinations, continually changing as Karl turned the scope.

  Leini wrapped her arms around his neck. “It’s so beautiful. I love it. Thank you very much.” Holding the tube at eye level, she studied the pattern on the outside. Something told her this was no ordinary toy. She glanced at him. “It’s antique, isn’t it?”

  “It sure is. How do you know? Or did you guess?”

  Smiling, she shrugged. “Both. The red glass of the cylinder isn’t quite smooth, which could mean it’s blown by mouth. From the way the metal is hammered and tarnished, I thought it would be old. And you gave it, so it’s sure to be antique.”

  He nodded his approval. “How astute you are! Papi has taught you well.”

  She nodded. “I’ve read some of Papi’s books on antiques. I love to learn about old things.”

  Karl leaned elbows on knees, gazing at her. “Antiques are my profession and my passion.”

  “I know. They’re a passion with Papi, too.”

  “You’re right, but he loves the housing business best; it’s his job and his love. We’re fortunate, Papi and I, to love what we do for a living.”

  The light was growing dim. Leini liked half-light, as it was gentle on her eyes, but when she could hardly see Karl, she turned on a table lamp and a wall fixture, both set so the light wasn’t too harsh. She sat close to him again.

  Karl took her hand and played with her long slim fingers, the nails a natural pink. “Mira’s giving you a hard time, I understand.”

  Leini hesitated, casting about for ways to respond. The mere mention of Mira caused her chest to tighten, and tears stood in her eyes. She longed to throw herself in Karl’s safe arms, to cry until she had no sadness or worry left, until she could breathe without fear of Mira’s next outburst.

  Disengaging her hand, she took a tissue from the box on the table and blew her nose. “How…how do you know Mira’s been difficult? I didn’t think anybody notices how she behaves with me. Who told you?”

  “Nobody needs to tell me. I know things are strained between you and her.” Karl sipped his tea, clicking his tongue in appreciation of the smoky aftertaste. “I know Mira. After all, she’s my sister. She’s always….” He stopped talking, gaze resting on Leini for a long moment.

  “What is it, Karl? Is there something you want to tell me about Mira?”

  He smiled and pressed the tip of his forefinger playfully against her nose. “You’re too perceptive for somebody so young, you know?”

  She made a face. “Maybe. I don’t know. If there’s something you want to say, please say it.”

  For an instant, he leaned his head against the back of the sofa. As he began talking, his voice was low and hesitant.

  “Mira has always managed to be the center of attention. She manipulates people and situations with the purpose to get everything to revolve around her. As a young girl, she was very beautiful. Her father adored her, men gravitated to her.” He stopped to catch his breath.

  When he resumed, his voice had lost some of its reluctance, words tumbling from his lips. “Through some strange maneuvering, she has always managed to be the focus of attention. Wherever she is, she sets a storm brewing, upheaval around her, people fighting, arguing. When she was growing up, she had everything, but she was never satisfied. She always wanted more.” He sipped his tea and replaced the cup in its saucer, dabbed at his lips with a napkin.

  “I’ll give you one example. To be fashionable like everybody else, Mira had her hair bobbed. After it was done, she didn’t like it. She envied our younger sister Jenny’s long braids, like those Mira just gave up. In the middle of the night, she stole into Jenny’s room. She cut off one braid right at the root while our sister slept. In the morning there was a great upheaval. Jenny was in tears, our parents upset. And Mira swore—as she does to this very day—that she was innocent.”

  “What about Jenny? Did she have her hair cut?”

  “Yes, you guessed it. The damage was done. The other tress had to come off.”

  “Doesn’t she live in the States?”

  “Yes, she married an American and is living New York.”

  Thoughts jostled in Leini’s head. She wasn’t surprised. What Karl said was familiar. This was Mira as Leini knew her, always coveting more, envious of others, stirring up trouble. Discontent with her life, Mira manipulated everyone around her.

  “When Mira was taken to task about her misdeed, she blatantly lied. She has always warped the truth.”

  “Uh-huh. Mira says a white lie isn’t a real lie.” Leini glanced at Karl. “Why is she like this? She’s mean to everybody. She can be so nice and syrupy in front of people, but the things she says behind their backs! It’s shameful.” She bit her lip to stifle the rush of words in the wake of rage, like an avalanche.

  Karl stretched his legs. “If you’re angry, don’t hold it in. Here.” He held his up hands, palms turned to her. “Hit me. Hard.”

  A huge grin stretched her lips. “No, but you’re right, I’m furious at her.”

  “Sometimes it helps to know and understa
nd the reasons for a person’s behavior. Maybe it will make things easier if I tell you about Mira’s childhood.” He took a deep breath, the crease between his eyebrows deepening.

  “Our mother was a severe and angry woman. She hardly needed an excuse to beat us children. Most often, Mira was her target. Sometimes she could hardly walk after a beating. After she cut off her sister’s braid, Mother beat her with a leather belt. The wounds on Mira’s thighs and calves bled and festered so she couldn’t wear clothes and had to stay at home. Our mother was ruthless with her.”

  “Oh, Karl, how terrible!” Leini shivered. “Did she beat you, too?”

  “She smacked me sometimes, but nothing comparable to the way she beat Mira. As I remember it, she didn’t beat Jenny either.”

  He must have thought of something amusing because he laughed low, a sound that startled her.

  “My sisters were assigned to sweep the floor in the living room, one week Jenny, the next it was Mira’s turn. As I remember, it was Jenny’s turn. She was trying to sweep under the sofa, but Mira sat with feet planted on the floor and wouldn’t budge. Jenny tapped her foot with the brush to make Mira lift her feet. Furious, Mira kicked out with both feet. One of them caught the metal dustpan in Jenny’s hand. It hit her in the face, opened a gash on her lip and—what’s worse—it chipped one of her front teeth.

  “I’m sure you can imagine the rest. Jenny bawled, Mira shouted obscenities, and Mother came ambling with her leather belt to beat up on Mira.” A shake of his head. “They were like a pack of mad alley cats, spitting and hissing and clawing.” He shuddered.

  Leini tried to picture the scene of two young girls and a fat woman wielding a leather belt. There was something she didn’t understand. “Why did she beat only Mira, not you or Jenny?”

  “There were those Mother loved, those she didn’t. Of the two girls, Jenny was her favorite. I think she left me alone because I was a boy. You see, our parents had all but given up hope to have a son. Then I was born, five years after Mira.” A faraway look in his eyes, he kept caressing the back of her hand. “Mother was an angry woman—and I don’t know why—her anger was uncontrollable, and Mira bore the brunt.”

  “Mira’s just like your mother. She’s so good to Samy. He can do nothing wrong.” A sigh escaped her. “It seems I can do nothing right.”

  Resting chin in hand, Leini thought for a long moment. If Mira’s mother had been hard on her, wouldn’t she want to be different with her own children?

  I won’t behave like Mira with my children if I have any. I won’t talk to them the way she talks to me, call them ugly names. I’ll burn my tongue first. I’ll love all of them the same.

  “Is this why she’s so mean to me? Because her mother beat her?”

  “I don’t know, sweetie. It’s possible. But Mira is a discontented and unhappy woman. As I just said, when she was young she always wanted more, was never content. Because she’s unhappy, she makes everybody miserable. I don’t think she does it on purpose. Can’t help herself is more like it.”

  For a while Leini sat quiet, letting Karl’s words penetrate.

  Turning to him, she said, “I don’t remember my grandparents, Mira’s and your mother and father.”

  “It’s not surprising. They lived far from Helsinki, so they didn’t visit often or you them. Mira wasn’t close to her mother. Both our parents died when you were just a baby. Before Samy was born.”

  Leini nodded. “Although Mira’s not in touch with Jenny, I’ve heard her say some pretty nasty things about her.”

  Nodding, Karl poured more tea. “Mother was a big woman. Ample bosom, broad behind. She was always cooking and baking, thrusting food on people. She made me eat so much it made me sick a lot of the time.” He winked. “Sound familiar? As a teenager, Mira was quite tubby. Mother taunted her without mercy about her fat thighs. I think this gave Mira a complex so she now has to watch everything she eats. When she left home to marry Papi, she told me she’d never be fat again.”

  “Was she really fat? Mira, I mean?”

  “Not terribly fat, no, just a bit round. But because our mother repeatedly told her she was fat, she developed a warped image of her body, convinced she was huge.”

  Leini moved closer, confident she could trust Karl to keep this conversation to himself. “Mira doesn’t beat me, but she keeps saying she can’t stand me. She says it’s because I don’t look like her at all, only like Papi.”

  He gazed at her, velvety dark eyes penetrating, vertical furrows between his eyebrows. “I won’t argue her case. She has a problem with love and loyalty. When we were children we had a kitten. That little ball of fur became Mira’s love object. Mira ignored and was mean to everybody but the cat.

  “Seems to me she can only love one person at a time. Now she loves Samy to the exclusion of everybody else.” With a hand under her chin he raised her face until her eyes met his. “It’s true, you look a lot like Papi. He’s a handsome man. Be happy you take after him. You’ll grow up to be a stunning woman.”

  The hot wave of embarrassment bloomed in her cheeks. She pulled a strand of hair, fingers busy twining it around. “Is she so nasty to me because your mother beat her?”

  “I think so. We end up by copying our parents’ behavior, whether we want to or not.”

  A frisson shook her. “Always? Are there no exceptions?”

  “Of course there are exceptions. Depends on what you’re prepared to do to break the pattern.”

  Again her head was crowded to bursting with things she wanted to clarify. “You just said Mira had a kitten when she was a child. I can’t imagine her with a pet. In Veteli, I so wanted to have a kitten, but she wouldn’t hear of it, said animals carry diseases. We might catch something from them.”

  “She had the kitten when she was a teenager. Fear of contamination came later, just before she and Papi married.”

  “Did something happen to scare her?”

  Head tilted to the side, he passed a hand over his face. Eyes closed, his voice was like a hum. “A long time ago, I fell in love with a wonderful girl. Astrid was her name. She was so joyous, a lot of fun, very intelligent. She had this willowy body, complexion like rich cream. With her smoky eyes and blue-black hair, she looked a lot like Greta Garbo.”

  My favorite film star. Leini gave him a wide-eyed stare. “She must have been lovely.”

  “That she was, Leini.” While he kept his eyes closed, a hand stole to take hers, squeezing it so hard she bit her lower lip not to cry out. “This was before the war. We were both very young, very much in love. We were engaged, planned to marry as soon as I finished my studies at the Museum of National History and Art.” He quieted.

  As gently as she could, she disengaged her throbbing hand from his tight grip.

  “When I think of it now, it seems it all happened so fast. One day she was there beside me, lovable, vibrant, filled with laughter and life. The next day she was gone. Tuberculosis took her.” Something between a sob and a sigh escaped him, his breath soft against her cheek. “Astrid was often in our home. She and Mira were close friends. When we learned Astrid had TB, Mira was crazy with fear that she’d caught the disease. She became terrified of catching something from food others had touched, pets, even a handshake.” He spread his hands in a powerless gesture. “She’s better about it now, but she’s still obsessed with contamination.”

  The picture Karl painted of his love for Astrid overwhelmed Leini. Tears pooled in her eyes, throat grew tight. With arms around his neck she whispered close to his ear, “Oh, Karl, how very sad about Astrid. I’m so sorry. Are you still unhappy?”

  “This was quite a long time ago. When I think of her, which I do often, I feel sad, but I’m not unhappy. I have your family and my job. You, Leini, are very special to me. I’m sure you know I love you like a daughter.”

  Fingers trembling, she brushed at tear-wet cheeks. “I love you, too.” She gazed at him. “Is Astrid the reason you never married?”

  He nodded. �
��Astrid was unique. What we had was unique. I’ve met many women after she passed away. Some were quite lovely, but none of them touched my heart or made it sing.”

  Both quieted. The silence grew as they sat together while the short winter day turned to evening glum.

  After Karl left, Leini stretched on her bed, a cold pad on eyes and forehead to sooth the ache in her head. Glad they’d talked, she went over their conversation. Karl’s disclosure brought some clarity to Mira’s behavior.

  A fist squeezed her heart that Karl had loved and lost the love of his life. There was so much Leini didn’t understand—Mira among them—but she was determined to try her best to be less hostile toward her.

  I’ll never treat my children like Mira does. I’ll love them and be happy to have them. And I won’t treat one better than the other.

  A surge of seething anger washed over her at the thought of Mira’s gentle, loving ways with Samy, wondering if he was better than she because he was a boy. With an effort of will, she quashed the feeling; she didn’t want to be angry, not if she was going to be friendly toward her. Anyway, Mira always told her good girls don’t allow anger, so Leini learned to tamp it down deep inside, placed a heavy lid on it. On the rare occasion the emotion slipped past her tight control, she ignored it, shunned it, killed it, but didn’t let it show.

  * * *

  An unfamiliar sensation in her lower back woke Leini. It wasn’t quite a pain, more like hot pressure. Half-awake, she stumbled to the bathroom. Something was wrong. Seriously wrong. Leini was so scared her knees knocked. Holding her breath, she stared at the bloody stains in her panties she wore to bed. Maybe I tore something inside during gym this afternoon. I’m bleeding to death, and I have this pain at the bottom of my belly. Must be real serious. Please, God, don’t let me die.

  With the panties bunched in her hand, bathrobe flapping, Leini rushed to her parents’ room. As she didn’t see a light under the door, she stopped. They must be asleep. Mira’s going to skin me alive if I wake her.

  Tatta! I’ll see Tatta.

  “Yes. Who’s that?” Tatta said in response to Leini’s knock on her door.