Copper Heart Read Online Free PDF Page B

county governor was just starting his opening speech. A brass band was waiting in the wings to play a fanfare when the governor snipped the ribbon that stretched across the door of the Tower.
    Quickly growing bored of listening to platitudes, I glanced around. In a stylish copper-brown suit, Kivinen was standing behind the governor. Apparently the woman in the green Marimekko number was his wife, Barbro. She seemed older than her husband, although she was clearly doing her all to conceal the fact. The blonde tint of her hair was nicely done—not too strong—and she had probably spent three times longer doing her makeup than I had. The governor’s speech seemed even less interesting to her than it did to me: she stared off toward the mine area with an empty smile on her peach-colored lips.
    Ella was busy shepherding a children’s dance troupe that was scheduled to perform after the ribbon cutting and subsequent tour of the Tower. For some inexplicable reason, she was wearing the same folk costume that she had worn to our high school graudation ceremony. The blue dress with a red vest andembroidered white apron emphasized her broad shoulders and overflowing hips, and the cap, signifying that she was a married woman, appeared about to fall off. She seemed irritable, which wasn’t surprising given that she was in charge of organizing at least half of the shindig.
    Ella’s husband, Matti, wore a caramel-colored corduroy suit designed by Vuokko Nurmesniemi; nowadays those wide, straight pant legs and Nehru jackets are practically the official uniform for artists in Finland. For once, Matti’s sandy-brown hair was neatly parted, his mustache was trimmed, and his round glasses were clean of smudges. He noticed me looking at him and gave a knowing grin. I grinned back.
    Behind Matti glowed someone dressed in bright orange. She was in constant motion and seemed to be eagerly explaining something to a tall man standing next to her. The man was Johnny, looking just as scrumptious as always. The woman seemed familiar, but it still took me a while to realize who she was.
    Meritta Flöjt, originally Merja-Riitta Korhonen before she changed her name, was the city’s most famous celebrity next to Kaisa Miettinen, the javelin thrower. Meritta specialized in figurative oil paintings. She was also a perennial topic of discussion on the pages of the women’s and culture magazines. No wonder: she painted beautifully; had hyperbolic opinions about culture, the environment, and eroticism; and possessed an almost Gypsy allure. With black hair, golden eyes, and voluptuous curves, she might not have been a classic beauty, but she was definitely sexy.
    When I shifted my glance a couple of yards to the right, I saw Johnny’s wife, Tuija Miettinen. She gave me a crooked, slightly amused smile. We never liked each other. I was sure that Tuija had been jealous of my friendship with Johnny, eventhough I was the only one with any real reason to be jealous. Tuija had been the one who hooked him, after all.
    Suddenly I wanted out of there, away from the party, away from Arpikylä, away from myself. But just then the horns blared and the governor cut the blue-and-white ribbon. The door to the Tower opened softly, invitingly, and the crowd pushed me along with them up the dark stairway.

3

    The Tower’s interior was dark and damp. Water dripped from the mortar gaps in the timeworn stone walls, and the steel-reinforced wooden staircase seemed to sag beneath the weight of the mass of people. As a child, I had been a little afraid of climbing the Tower. Was there any guarantee the stairs wouldn’t break? Could the whole building collapse? Or what if I fell off the top, right over the three-foot-high railing?
    The climb went slowly because people were already making their way back down. The sweet stink of perfume mixed with a sulfuric smell emanating from the walls. Johnny and Meritta passed on their way back down, and Johnny smiled, his dark-red jacket