Free The Wooden Chair by Rayne E. Golay Page A

to get me a sister or brother, and we’ll be all together. Isn’t that nice?” She continued talking to her toys until Mamma’s shrill voice interrupted her.
    “Wash your hands, girl. Dinner’s ready.”
    In Veteli, the big kitchen had been warm from wood crackling in the stove. There had been music from the radio, talk and laughter in the air. Here the kitchen was cold. Mamma kept stirring her carrot stew, not really eating at all. She didn’t say anything, and Leini was afraid to talk. She was sad without Grandma Britta and Grandpa. And Kalevi. He used to be so quiet she sometimes forgot about him, but during the meals, he was always there, head bent over his food.
    In bed, Leini prayed time would go faster so she’d have her baby brother or sister to play with.
    * * *
    In the bedroom, Leini watched Mamma pack two small suitcases, one for Leini to take to Grandpa and Grandma Britta’s, the other one for Mamma.
    “I’m going away for a few days to get your little sister or brother. While I’m gone you’re going to stay with Grandpa and Grandma.”
    Like a rippling brook, joy leaped in Leini’s chest that she’d be staying with them. Her gladness dimmed a little as a thought crept into her mind; would Mamma forget her while she was gone?
    “Will you go away for a long time, Mamma?”
    “As long as it takes.” She handed her Björn and Maia. “You can take both of them if you want.”
    Leini hugged the toys, burying her face in Björn’s soft fur so Mamma wouldn’t see her tears.
    She loved staying with Grandma Britta and Grandpa. She slept in the big room next to their bedroom. The first night she dreamt she was in a vast open place, like the market in Helsinki. There were no people wherever she looked. She knew Mamma was somewhere close by, but turning this way and that she couldn’t see her anywhere.
    “Mamma! Mamma, where are you? Come back. Please don’t leave me.” She awoke, hair plastered to forehead, sheets twisted around her body. With the corner of the sheet she wiped her tear-stained face as she struggled to sit up, heart pounding so hard her body trembled.
    “There, there, my little dove,” Grandma Britta whispered as she held her close. She carried Leini to her own bed and settled next to her. Inhaling Grandma Britta’s faint flowery perfume, Leini snuggled close, safe in her arms, the bad dream slowly vanishing.
    * * *
    The radio played music all day long. When Grandma Britta didn’t read to Leini, she played the piano, teaching Leini where the note “do” was on the white keys. One morning Grandma came to sit next to Leini on the piano stool as Leini picked out notes with one finger.
    “Mamma is in the hospital. She’s had your little brother.”
    Leini stared at Grandma Britta. “A brother?” She’d waited so long for him—or her—now she could hardly believe she heard right. “Did the stork bring him?”
    Grandma Britta’s gentle gray-blue eyes blinked rapidly as she smiled. “Yes, it did, my dove. You’ll stay with Grandpa and me for a while, until Mamma leaves the hospital and is strong enough to look after you and Samy.” Grandma Britta caressed Leini’s hair. “Your brother’s name is Samy.”
    “Samy.” Tasting the name. “Nice name, Samy.”
    Together with Grandma Britta, Leini visited Mamma and the newborn baby. When she first saw him through the window of the nursery, Leini gaped, amazed that he was so small, not much bigger than her doll. His head was covered with jet-black curly hair, and his mouth was like a rosebud. His tiny ears, flat against his skull, were pink, like the pictures of seashells Grandpa had shown her in a magazine.
    She squeezed Grandma Britta’s hand. “His face is like Mamma’s.”
    “You’re right; he looks very much like Mamma. Same big, coal-dark eyes, and almost blue-black hair.” With the back of her hand she caressed Leini’s cheek. “You take after Papi, tall, olive skin, while Mamma’s is like cream, and she’s