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Authors: Harri Nykänen
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remit the balance.”
Mara hurled the empty case into the corner of the garage.
“And don’t think you can get out of this by surrounding yourself with more muscle. Until you pay up, every night could be your last. And you can be sure the interest will keep accruing.”
Tatjana was waiting in the yard with a worried expression. Once Raid and Nygren were in the car, she made a dash for the garage. Mara came out and roughly shoved her aside.
“The perfect Finnish family. Brick house by the lake. Who could ask for more,” Nygren reflected. “Or maybe you could. You can’t buy happiness, after all…”
He waved the wad of bills in Raid’s face.
“But you sure can try. Over forty thousand. Our plain honest boy from Savo’s gonna cry his eyes out over this.”
“What about the rest?”
“He wouldn’t dare stiff me.”
The satisfaction on Nygren’s face suddenly vanished, as though wiped away. His eyes became bleary and he clutched at his stomach.
Raid pulled over at a bus stop.
“Think I… Got a little overexcited… Well worth it, though…”
Nygren began to shiver.
“Why’s it gotta act up now…”
Raid reclined the passenger seat to a nearly supine position and spread a felt blanket over Nygren.
“I feel better already,” he said, though he didn’t look it.
“You sure you can manage?”
“Can’t stop now… The fun has just begun. Let’s stick with the original plan.”
6.
On Thursday morning, Jansson decided to stay in bed.
They had stayed at the Millhouse Tavern until last call. After Anna’s departure, Huusko had turned to the bottle for comfort. The fact that the relationship wasn’t going to be revived was finally hitting home for him.
The conversation between Jansson and Huusko had centered around one topic: women. Huusko rattled off his heartaches one by one. He confessed to having changed his attitude toward women after his wife left him when he was recovering from the gunshot.
Jansson had championed the female cause and kept Huusko’s generalizations at bay.
As the evening wore on, Huusko had softened up, and when the band finally struck up at nine, he was ready for a new conquest. He focused his efforts on a woman at the neighboring table who turned out to be a Finnish language teacher at the local high school.
In the end, Jansson wound up heading back to the physical rehab center alone. Huusko headed for the woman’s nearby home.
The decision to stay in bed had nothing to do with a hangover. Having only drunk moderately, he felt reasonably alert. He simply had no desire to submit to the hazing of another physical therapist: “Doesn’t Jansson’s back bend? Jansson, tuck in your belly. Jansson, breathe deeply…”
He was an adult, and known as a deliberate man. He knew how to take care of himself and his body. And even if it wasn’t in tip-top shape, it got him where he needed to go.
His final reason for staying in bed rolled in with the weather. The first real fall storm was raging outside. Jansson had opened the window as far as the latch allowed, taken a blanket out of the cabinet, and wrapped it around his shoulders. He enjoyed the gusts of wind as they banked off the window and swept across his face. The light patter of rain on the window sill only increased his pleasure.
Jansson began to doze lightly. He was unruffled by the subconscious knowledge that breakfast was sailing past: an assortment of fish, hard-boiled eggs, low-fat cheese, whole-grain bread, high-fiber muesli, and herbal tea. Jansson disdained all of them.
He felt the same triumphant joy that he had as a child, after exaggerating his ailments to his parents and getting permission to stay home from school. His brother and sisters
Mara hurled the empty case into the corner of the garage.
“And don’t think you can get out of this by surrounding yourself with more muscle. Until you pay up, every night could be your last. And you can be sure the interest will keep accruing.”
Tatjana was waiting in the yard with a worried expression. Once Raid and Nygren were in the car, she made a dash for the garage. Mara came out and roughly shoved her aside.
“The perfect Finnish family. Brick house by the lake. Who could ask for more,” Nygren reflected. “Or maybe you could. You can’t buy happiness, after all…”
He waved the wad of bills in Raid’s face.
“But you sure can try. Over forty thousand. Our plain honest boy from Savo’s gonna cry his eyes out over this.”
“What about the rest?”
“He wouldn’t dare stiff me.”
The satisfaction on Nygren’s face suddenly vanished, as though wiped away. His eyes became bleary and he clutched at his stomach.
Raid pulled over at a bus stop.
“Think I… Got a little overexcited… Well worth it, though…”
Nygren began to shiver.
“Why’s it gotta act up now…”
Raid reclined the passenger seat to a nearly supine position and spread a felt blanket over Nygren.
“I feel better already,” he said, though he didn’t look it.
“You sure you can manage?”
“Can’t stop now… The fun has just begun. Let’s stick with the original plan.”
6.
On Thursday morning, Jansson decided to stay in bed.
They had stayed at the Millhouse Tavern until last call. After Anna’s departure, Huusko had turned to the bottle for comfort. The fact that the relationship wasn’t going to be revived was finally hitting home for him.
The conversation between Jansson and Huusko had centered around one topic: women. Huusko rattled off his heartaches one by one. He confessed to having changed his attitude toward women after his wife left him when he was recovering from the gunshot.
Jansson had championed the female cause and kept Huusko’s generalizations at bay.
As the evening wore on, Huusko had softened up, and when the band finally struck up at nine, he was ready for a new conquest. He focused his efforts on a woman at the neighboring table who turned out to be a Finnish language teacher at the local high school.
In the end, Jansson wound up heading back to the physical rehab center alone. Huusko headed for the woman’s nearby home.
The decision to stay in bed had nothing to do with a hangover. Having only drunk moderately, he felt reasonably alert. He simply had no desire to submit to the hazing of another physical therapist: “Doesn’t Jansson’s back bend? Jansson, tuck in your belly. Jansson, breathe deeply…”
He was an adult, and known as a deliberate man. He knew how to take care of himself and his body. And even if it wasn’t in tip-top shape, it got him where he needed to go.
His final reason for staying in bed rolled in with the weather. The first real fall storm was raging outside. Jansson had opened the window as far as the latch allowed, taken a blanket out of the cabinet, and wrapped it around his shoulders. He enjoyed the gusts of wind as they banked off the window and swept across his face. The light patter of rain on the window sill only increased his pleasure.
Jansson began to doze lightly. He was unruffled by the subconscious knowledge that breakfast was sailing past: an assortment of fish, hard-boiled eggs, low-fat cheese, whole-grain bread, high-fiber muesli, and herbal tea. Jansson disdained all of them.
He felt the same triumphant joy that he had as a child, after exaggerating his ailments to his parents and getting permission to stay home from school. His brother and sisters
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