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Authors: Rayne E. Golay
Tags: Literary
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close to her. “Don’t eat them too fast or you’ll get a tummy ache. You’re not used to chocolates.”
She glanced at him from under her brow. “Just one more?”
“Sure, one more.”
Staring at the chocolates for a moment, she selected one that was like a heart. With eyes half-closed, leaning against Karl, she let it melt in her mouth. A sigh of contentment escaped her. She didn’t move away when Karl hugged her to him. With her ear pressed against his side she listened to the boom-boom of his heart. He’s nice. Before she could hide it a yawn got away.
“You’re sleepy, my dove.” Grandma Britta held a hand to her. “Come, I’ll take you to bed, tuck you in.”
Before she took Grandma Britta’s hand, Leini glanced at Karl. “Go to bed, little Leini. I’ll be here in the morning. We’ll go out together. Grandpa told me you have a bunny. Will you take me to see him?”
Too sleepy to speak, she quickly touched the backside of his hand and nodded.
During the few days Karl was there, Leini laughed and sang, her step light and heart full. He made a swing for her and sent her flying so high she screamed with excitement and delight as her stomach tickled. He drew pictures with the crayons—of Aladdin’s lamp, of Whitey and of the cows.
“Draw more,” she begged.
And he drew a picture of a man, only his face. “Can you tell who this is?”
Moving her head back the better to see, she stared at the picture for a moment. “Papi?”
He ruffled her hair. “My, oh my, but aren’t you smart. Yes, it’s a drawing of Papi.”
They played with Whitey, and Karl climbed to the loft with her to admire the kittens, which were now scampering in the hay, catching dust motes in the sunrays. Karl held her on his lap and sang to her.
“I love you, my best girl.” And he hugged her to him.
With her forehead pressed against his, she nodded. “I love you, too, Uncle Karl.”
On a windy day, the sky so low the blue billowing clouds touched the ground, he left. She stood on the front step watching through a curtain of drab rain and misty eyes as Kalevi snapped the reins against the horse’s rump. She kept her eyes trained on the receding carriage until it was lost from sight, swallowed by the dense forest.
Wordless, Grandpa took her in his arms. She pressed her face against his shoulder as she let all the loneliness and sadness explode in sobs.
Chapter 8
Veteli and Helsinki, September 1943
As she turned the knob on the radio for a music station, Leini gazed through the rain-spattered kitchen window. The low-slung, nearly leafless branches of the birch in the yard swayed and twisted in the high wind. She shivered in the warm kitchen; the short summer was over.
“What are you doing, my princess?”
Grandpa’s voice startled her. She swiveled around to face him as he crossed the floor to sit on the bench close to her.
She resumed turning the knob, getting only static. “I’m looking at the rain.”
“Here, let me try to find some music for you.” After some jarring gurgle and prattle, Grandpa happened on a station playing popular Finnish tunes. “Do you like this?”
Nodding, she leaned elbows on the counter. Content, her body bobbed to the rhythm of the polka.
“Such a bleak day.” Grandpa smiled, his kind brown eyes surrounded by tiny wrinkles. “The weather is still sunny and quite warm in Helsinki, but this far north it’s already fall.” He took Leini’s hand, pulling her to him. With her on his knee, he leaned his cheek against her head. “The news on the radio last night was wonderful; the war is over.”
The better to see Grandpa’s face, Leini leaned away from him. “Is the war really over?”
“Yes, my princess, but only the Continuation War, not the World War.”
“Conti…? Continu…War?”
“This must be confusing to you. Let’s see if I can explain it so you’ll understand.” Grandpa’s smile brought wrinkles under his eyes. “You see, Finland and Russia are
She glanced at him from under her brow. “Just one more?”
“Sure, one more.”
Staring at the chocolates for a moment, she selected one that was like a heart. With eyes half-closed, leaning against Karl, she let it melt in her mouth. A sigh of contentment escaped her. She didn’t move away when Karl hugged her to him. With her ear pressed against his side she listened to the boom-boom of his heart. He’s nice. Before she could hide it a yawn got away.
“You’re sleepy, my dove.” Grandma Britta held a hand to her. “Come, I’ll take you to bed, tuck you in.”
Before she took Grandma Britta’s hand, Leini glanced at Karl. “Go to bed, little Leini. I’ll be here in the morning. We’ll go out together. Grandpa told me you have a bunny. Will you take me to see him?”
Too sleepy to speak, she quickly touched the backside of his hand and nodded.
During the few days Karl was there, Leini laughed and sang, her step light and heart full. He made a swing for her and sent her flying so high she screamed with excitement and delight as her stomach tickled. He drew pictures with the crayons—of Aladdin’s lamp, of Whitey and of the cows.
“Draw more,” she begged.
And he drew a picture of a man, only his face. “Can you tell who this is?”
Moving her head back the better to see, she stared at the picture for a moment. “Papi?”
He ruffled her hair. “My, oh my, but aren’t you smart. Yes, it’s a drawing of Papi.”
They played with Whitey, and Karl climbed to the loft with her to admire the kittens, which were now scampering in the hay, catching dust motes in the sunrays. Karl held her on his lap and sang to her.
“I love you, my best girl.” And he hugged her to him.
With her forehead pressed against his, she nodded. “I love you, too, Uncle Karl.”
On a windy day, the sky so low the blue billowing clouds touched the ground, he left. She stood on the front step watching through a curtain of drab rain and misty eyes as Kalevi snapped the reins against the horse’s rump. She kept her eyes trained on the receding carriage until it was lost from sight, swallowed by the dense forest.
Wordless, Grandpa took her in his arms. She pressed her face against his shoulder as she let all the loneliness and sadness explode in sobs.
Chapter 8
Veteli and Helsinki, September 1943
As she turned the knob on the radio for a music station, Leini gazed through the rain-spattered kitchen window. The low-slung, nearly leafless branches of the birch in the yard swayed and twisted in the high wind. She shivered in the warm kitchen; the short summer was over.
“What are you doing, my princess?”
Grandpa’s voice startled her. She swiveled around to face him as he crossed the floor to sit on the bench close to her.
She resumed turning the knob, getting only static. “I’m looking at the rain.”
“Here, let me try to find some music for you.” After some jarring gurgle and prattle, Grandpa happened on a station playing popular Finnish tunes. “Do you like this?”
Nodding, she leaned elbows on the counter. Content, her body bobbed to the rhythm of the polka.
“Such a bleak day.” Grandpa smiled, his kind brown eyes surrounded by tiny wrinkles. “The weather is still sunny and quite warm in Helsinki, but this far north it’s already fall.” He took Leini’s hand, pulling her to him. With her on his knee, he leaned his cheek against her head. “The news on the radio last night was wonderful; the war is over.”
The better to see Grandpa’s face, Leini leaned away from him. “Is the war really over?”
“Yes, my princess, but only the Continuation War, not the World War.”
“Conti…? Continu…War?”
“This must be confusing to you. Let’s see if I can explain it so you’ll understand.” Grandpa’s smile brought wrinkles under his eyes. “You see, Finland and Russia are
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