The Wooden Chair (17 page)

“Yes, my sweet. Papi tells me you don’t accept visitors. Does that include me, too?”

Hesitant, she closed her eyes, missing him. “For now, it does.”

“Okay. But once you’re home, I’ll come to see you even if I have to beat down the door. Remember, I love you, Leini.”

With both hands she set the receiver in the cradle. Face buried in the pillow, she cried until, exhausted, she fell asleep.

Systematically, she cut herself off from everybody. She held them all responsible for her plight, individually and collectively. She was a one-eyed monster, and it was their fault. When she balked at the operation, Mira pushed and threatened, used emotional blackmail and manipulated until she wore Leini down. The others stood by, maybe unaware of Mira’s role in bending Leini’s will, but in her mind they were silent partners, nonetheless. And so they were all to blame for her loss of sight.

The eye was ugly. It kept escaping to the outer corner and was never in sync with the other. For the rest of her life she would carry the visible mark of Mira’s shrewd manipulation and everyone else’s betrayal. Leini punished them in the only way she knew; she refused to see them or talk to them. And in the process she punished herself as well, because she missed them so.

Doctor Kallio tried to break through Leini’s protective shield while she was still in the hospital. Like everybody else, he was met with an impenetrable wall of mute indifference. On her last day in the hospital, he came to bid her good-bye.

“I want you to know, Leini, I did the best I could. This is the result of a stupid, mindless accident that never should have happened.” He took her hand, and she let him hold it. “Believe me, I really wanted this to succeed. I wanted for you to leave with two good eyes.”

Restless, Leini stirred in the armchair. She glanced at him, then averted her eyes, but not before he perceived the faintest smile.

“I know, Doctor,” she said. “I wanted it, too. God had other plans, is all.”

Chapter 17

Helsinki, 1947-1950

When she left the shelter and security of her hospital room, Leini was ill-prepared to face the pitfalls of seeing with one eye. Now her world was flat, one-dimensional. Having no depth perception, Papi’s firm grip on her arm prevented her from falling down the short flight of stairs from the elevator to street level.

In the car on their way home, she was confused by sounds coming at her from the right, blind to their source unless she turned her head. The stench of gasoline in the car made her nauseous, reminiscent of ether, a disgusting odor that lingered. By the time they reached their building, she was tired, she was close to tears, and her head ached.

Mira met them in the entry hall. She brought her face close to Leini’s, examining her with a blatant stare, her curiosity undisguised.

“Hmm,” she said without welcome or greeting. “No better or worse than it was in the hospital. You don’t look too bad. Sure, your right eye hides in the outer corner, but it’s nothing a little cosmetic surgery can’t cure. At least you’re rid of those horrid glasses.” She turned and preceded Leini into the living room. “I want you to go to your room, unpack and put away your clothes. Dinner’s in half an hour, so hurry and wash up.”

Sad and discouraged at Mira’s lack of warmth, Leini felt sick. Without a word, Leini stoically carried the bag to her suite.

Dinner was a disaster. Leini’s distorted sight caused one mishap after the other. She miscalculated the edge of the plate, spilling chicken broth. While she poured water, she missed the glass, drenching Mira’s snow white table cloth. As she speared a piece of steak, the tines of the fork slipped on the plate with a screeching sound to send the meat flying. Disgusted, she threw her fork onto the plate, scattering green peas about. Frustrated and exhausted, she broke into tears.

True to character, Mira threw a tantrum, unspeakable words spewing from her mouth. Papi’s efforts to placate her were drowned by her loud voice. Samy leaned against the back of his chair, his rosebud of a mouth pulled into a smirk. Like an enthusiast watching a boxing match, his black eyes sparkled and danced. Without sound, Leini cried, plump tears rolling from her eyes.

Glasses and silverware jumped and jiggled as Papi’s fist landed on the table with a crash that startled Leini, sloshing the water in her glass. Out of the corner of her eye she saw his face was red, a pulse throbbing at his throat.

“Enough, Mira! Stop your tirade right this minute. You should be ashamed of yourself, throwing a tantrum because my poor daughter suffers from impaired vision. Show her some consideration, for heaven’s sake. She’s only come home an hour after an awful experience in the hospital.” He stood, leaned fisted hands on each side of his plate.

Mira’s eyes were narrow slits. “She needs to learn some discipline. Just because she’s…”

“She has a lot of adjustments to do. Right now she needs support more than she needs a lesson in table manners.”

Leini kept staring at a point at the far end of the room, wishing she could vanish, guilt heavy on her shoulders that Papi was upset because of her.

“There you go again, taking Leini’s side against me.”

“I’m not going to argue with you, but I warn you, go easy on Leini. After all, she’s only a child.”

Not daring to look at either parent, Leini kept staring into her food, but heard Mira snort.

Before leaving the dining room, Papi planted a kiss on top of Leini’s head.

Mira rested elbows on the table, face hidden in her hands.

After the disastrous first dinner, Leini avoided spending time with the rest of the family. She timed her comings and goings so as to avoid them all. She took her meals in her rooms, except when friends or relatives came for dinner. If her own friends visited, which they frequently did, she saw them in her rooms. The sign on the door drew a clear line:

“KNOCK FIRST—ENTER ONLY IF INVITED”

Leini was learning to protect herself from further hurt.

* * *

Because Leini refused to let Mira accompany her, Grandma Britta took her to Doctor Kallio for her post-operative check-up.

“The adjustment to seeing with only one eye gives you a hard time, but it will get better. You’re still young, and you’ll adapt to the handicap. Your left eye will begin to compensate. With time you’ll get used to judging distances correctly. You’ll learn to calculate depth, and your peripheral vision will improve.”

Doubtful, Leini gazed at him. “How long will it take? Before I can see ‘normally,’ I mean?”

Taking her hand in his, Doctor Kallio smiled. “I wish I had a timeframe to give you. To tell you the truth, we don’t have much experience with your kind of handicap. Try to be patient.” Letting go of Leini’s hand, he turned to Grandma Britta. “If possible, let Leini stay away from school for a while. She should have time to adjust without too much strain on her good eye.”

They all decided Leini would return to school only the following fall. To help her keep abreast with the school program, her classmates—Paula foremost among them—took turns bringing her homework, and Papi hired a tutor to work with her, so she stayed current with her class.

A few days before Christmas, true to form, Tatta barged into Leini’s room without knocking. Leini lay on her stomach on the bed, lost in the world of
Little Women
.

“Hurry, girl. Go wash your hands, comb your hair. Mr. Ziegler’s here to see you.”

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.”