The Wooden Chair

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The Wooden Chair Page 16

by Rayne E. Golay


  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.”

  A gentle smile brightened his face. “To keep it short, I’ve found an ophthalmologist who’s willing to operate on your eye.”

  She stared at him, unsure how to react, suspicious this was some kind of joke. “Come now! We both know the damage to the optic nerve can’t be repaired. What’s the point in undergoing another operation? I’m not at all sure I want to do it.”

  “Listen to me, princess. I’ve spoken to Doctor von Burg in Vienna. She comes highly recommended by colleagues both in the United States and here in Finland. I’ve been corresponding with her about you. She’s read your file.” Grandpa put his hand under Leini’s chin, forcing her to meet his eyes. “You’re right, it’s impossible to restore sight to your damaged eye.”

  “Then what’s the point?” She averted her eyes. After her conversation with him last night, she’d let herself feel a faint light of hope. Now disappointment was like acid in her mouth, throat clogged from sadness.

  “The point is that Doctor von Burg can straighten your eye through surgery. It will be parallel with the other, so it works in unison with the other. Think of it as cosmetic.”

  Before he could continue, she slipped her hand in his. “That’s exactly what Mira said when the operation went wrong—that I should have cosmetic surgery later.” She pulled down the corners of her mouth in distaste.

  “So what? Mira was right.” He twined his fingers in hers. “It’s no reason not to go ahead.”

  “That’s not why I hesitate.” Briefly, she hid face in hands. “To be honest, I’m afraid.”

  “Oh, princess—of course you are after the ordeal you went through. In the years since, the technology has improved a lot. Do you think I would suggest this if there was the slightest risk for you?”

  She made an effort to smile. “No, of course not.”

  Grandpa’s smile lit up his face. “The operation and continued exercises will keep the eye straight. They’ll teach you to apply makeup to camouflage any minor differences, if any remain. The main thing is your eyes will no longer confuse anybody. An incident like the one last night won’t happen again.”

  Leini stared through the window at the drifting clouds.

  “No, Leini, look at me. Never let anybody embarrass you about your eyes.” He caressed her cheek. “Dr. von Burg is very busy, in great demand. I took upon me to make a tentative appointment for June 10. School will be out by then. I thought we’d leave a few days earlier, take in the sights, go to a concert. The Wiener Philharmoniker has a few good ones on their program. Does that tempt you?”

  “Sounds wonderful, Grandpa. You know I can never resist a concert.” She thought for a moment. “Okay,
let’s decide to go. I’ll keep my appointment with Doctor von Burg as long as it’s understood I’m not committing myself yet. I’ll listen to what she has to say. I have to understand what’s at stake and what I stand to gain, or lose, from the procedure. Then I’ll decide.”

  Grandpa stood. “Agreed, Leini. I’ll make the arrangements. Let’s leave on the fifth.” He planted a kiss on her forehead. “It should give us enough time to have some fun.”

  “How did you find this doctor?”

  “Ever since your surgery, I’ve been in correspondence with one specialist or another. Outwardly your eye will seem normal. Isn’t it reason enough to go through with this?”

  Unable to make up her mind, Leini shook her head. “I don’t know,” she whispered. Because Grandpa had gone to so much trouble, she would keep the appointment. That was all she dared commit to now.

  * * *

  After she saw Grandpa to the door, Leini returned to her rooms, sat deep in thought, oblivious of the sunrays on her neck. His last words echoed in her mind. Her eyes would seem normal, a good reason to submit to surgery. It sounded much like Mira’s argument, which had made Leini agree to undergo the procedure in the first place.

  She shivered, goose bumps dotting her skin.

  Samy knocked and stuck his head in the door.

  “Lunch, Leini.”

  The thought of food almost made her gag. “Thanks. I don’t want any.”

  In the afternoon, she lay on the couch, reading an Edna St. Vincent Millay poem, mesmerized by the beautiful words and cadence:

  “Time does not bring relief; you have all lied.

  “Who told me time would ease me of my pain!”

  The door crashed against the wall, startling her.

  Mira took a wobbly step across the threshold, a cigarette between her fingers, the gray smoke swirling. Her red lips were pulled to a weak smile.

  Before Leini could stand, Mira crossed the floor and sat in the chair next to her. She offered her a cigarette from the pack she always carried with her.

  Leini shook her head. “No, thank you.”

 

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