The Wooden Chair Read Online Free Page A

understand I can’t leave Björn and Katie? Without me they’ll be lonely and sad, just like me.
    Mamma’s lips she squeezed together told Leini there was no point in begging. She trekked to the bedroom to put away the toys she must leave behind. Every now and then she sniveled, but if Mamma noticed she didn’t say anything.
    As she followed Mamma into the street, Leini saw their carrier, a flat cart without railings, drawn by a horse. Mamma loaded their luggage on the cart. She lifted Leini on board before she grabbed the hand of the old driver to hoist herself up.
    “I’m surprised Grandpa, with all his money, could find nothing better than this old fool and a half-dead nag to take us to the station.” Mamma sat on top of a suitcase and heaved a deep sigh. “Ah, well, I guess this is better than nothing.”
    “Where to, Miss?” asked the driver.
    “The railway station, and try to make it fast. We have a train to catch.”
    Turning, he scowled at Mamma, showed a few stubs of teeth in his grinning mouth and muttered something Leini didn’t understand. Clicking his tongue, he snapped the reins against the horse’s back. With a jerk, the wagonrolled along the cobblestone streets. Leini hadn’t thought about how long they’d be gone, but when she saw the number of suitcases and cartons on the wagon, she thought they might never return. Maybe she would never see her home again. It made her stomach feel like it was full of stones.
    “Good heavens,” Mamma said when they reached the station. “How are we going to find your grandparents in this crowd?”
    The station square was packed with people. Mamma stood on the cart and looked over the sea of women and children of all ages, who held on to their belongings packed in suitcases, cartons and crates. Most of the civilian population of Helsinki was being evacuated. Those unable to go to Sweden—because they didn’t have the means or knew nobody to take them in—crowded at the station in the hope of catching one of the last trains out of the capital. They brought with them all the belongings they could carry.
    The crowd at the station was silent, barely a whisper reached Leini.
    The severity of the situation muted people. They were leaving their homes; some left loved ones behind, unable or unwilling to travel. They didn’t know if they would have a home to return to. In fact, nobody knew if they would have a home country in the future.
    Standing on the wagon, Mamma put both hands to her mouth like a trumpet. “Grandpa Benjamin! Hallo! Grandpa Benjamin!” she shouted several times.
    “Mira. Over here.”
    Leini grabbed the hem of Mamma’s dress and pulled. “I saw Grandpa’s cane.”
    “Good. I didn’t see him, but I saw the cane, too.” Mamma climbed from the wagon. “He isn’t far. Stay right here and don’t let anybody steal our things.”
    When Leini didn’t answer, Mira shook her shoulder. “Did you hear what I said?”
    “Yes. Mamma…?” Leini wanted to ask if she would return to fetch her.
    “Stay here.” Mamma turned and disappeared into the masses.
    Leini put one foot on the wheel hub, grabbed hold of the twine on a carton and climbed onto the wagon. She sat on the edge and swung her feet, bumping the heels of her shoes against the wheel, hands tucked under her thighs, Maia safe under one arm. Mamma’s warning rang in her ears to be careful about the shoes, because new ones would be impossible to find. She stopped swinging her legs, stretched them to look at her sad-brown ribbed stockings, lips pursed as she saw them creased like sausages at the ankles and knees. “They never stay up,” she muttered and reached both hands under her coat and dress to pull them up.
    It seemed a long time since Mamma left to find Grandpa. Leini was becoming impatient and scared. She moved restlessly on the hard seat. Maybe Mamma won’t come back. Maybe she’s decided this is a good place to lose me . Tears rolled from her eyes, again smudging her