Read Online The Faces of Strangers by Pia Padukone - Free Book Online Page B

good your English is.”
    â€œI told you—mostly everyone in Estonia speaks English. After all—” Paavo turned around to face Nicholas, who stopped short behind him “—it is easy when there are only three words in the English language. What are they?”
    â€œHuh?”
    â€œIt’s a riddle.”
    â€œOh. I give up.”
    â€œThe English language,” Paavo exclaimed triumphantly. “Get it? One—The. Two—English. Three—Language?”
    â€œRight,” Nicholas said, forcing a smile.
    â€œAnyway, you’ll pick up some Estonian while you’re here. I think you’re taking a class at school. But I can teach you some things, as well.”
    â€œI’d love that.” Secretly, Nicholas wanted the information, vocabulary and pronunciations to travel by osmosis from Paavo’s brain to his own so they could skip all the embarrassing times when Nicholas would feel inferior to Paavo, when he would feel beholden. Nicholas had a good ear—that’s what Senora Hall told him in Spanish II—but he wasn’t sure where his talents lay in a language that sounded as though it had more vowels than consonants.
    Nicholas followed Paavo meekly toward the door, feeling as though he were being brought to the gallows. In the small embankment outside baggage claim, the brisk air sent a shiver down his spine. Was it still September in Estonia? It felt so much colder. He zipped his jacket up to his nose, breathing in the salty, damp flavor of his unwashed self. He squinted at the streetlights; their contrast against the inky sky was blinding. A small brown Lada chugged at the curb, streaked with gray stripes of dirt as though it were aging. Paavo swung his suitcase into the trunk and nodded toward the passenger seat.
    â€œPlease sit in the front.”
    Nicholas opened the door and ducked his head, folding his legs in front of him. The car was warm and smelled like petrol and peppermint. “Papa, Nico. Nico, this is my father, Leo.” The man in the driver’s seat looked nothing like Paavo. He was broad and brown and hairy, reminding Nicholas of a big Russian bear. Leo grunted and grimaced, which Nicholas translated into a greeting and a smile. The evasive Estonian smile would emerge eventually. Coaxing it out of Leo would be one of Nicholas’s first challenges in the Sokolov household. Paavo’s father pulled at the gears, squeaking the car out of the airport road and onto a slip of a highway.
    â€œDon’t mind the car,” Paavo said. “Papa refuses to trade in his trusty Russian beast for something a bit more modern.” Leo threw off a few long sentences into the air. Nicholas tensed at the sound. Was that English? He couldn’t be sure. Paavo sighed from the backseat and spun off a few of his own, ending with, “Papa, English please. For Nico.”
    â€œNico, I am saying,” Leo said, shifting the car into the next gear, “that this car has been with us for the past fifteen years. There is no problem with it.”
    â€œIt’s actually Nicholas,” he said. “And hey, I’m with you. If the car gets you from point A to point B...” he said.
    Leo glanced at him. “How was the travel? Are you wanting tired? Wanting sleep?”
    â€œI’ll be okay,” Nicholas said, though the moment he uttered the words, he found himself stifling a yawn. “What time is it anyway?”
    â€œEighteen thirty. We’ll take it easy tonight. Mama’s made dinner and you can go to bed early. There is a mall where we shop.” Paavo pointed. “And they are building a market there. And another mall there.” Shadowy, mountainous structures sulked in the recesses of deep parking lots. Silhouettes of cranes stood out against the harsh blaze of floodlights. Nicholas could see large pits below them, which would eventually be filled in with cement and the foundations of more shopping