The Wooden Chair Read Online Free PDF Page B

indistinct.
    Forearms on knees, Grandpa leaned forward. “What’s that you said? I didn’t hear you.”
    Mira turned her head toward him, wishing she could bore holes in him with her eyes. Her lips trembled. She made a supreme effort to tamp down the rage grumbling inside like a volcano ready to erupt.
    “When Robert was on leave, he brought a few cartons. I only smoke a couple a day, so they last me.” She took a deep puff of the cigarette, the smoke raspy in her throat, stuffy from the churning anger she didn’t dare express, not to provoke the old man, which she didn’t want to do as she and the girl depended on his money.
    “ Hmm . Robert doesn’t smoke. How come he had cigarettes?”
    Mira shifted on the settee. “He told me he writes letters for some of the men who can’t write. They pay him in cigarettes.” She crushed the stub in a small ashtray in the armrest. “The men on the front get a ration of cigarettes, as I’m sure you know.” She stood. With the door to the compartment half-open, she turned to stare at Grandpa. “When this supply is gone, I’ll stop smoking. I won’t use precious money to buy them on the black market, if that’s what you’re worried about.” There, that should put an end to the “inquisition.”
    Squaring her shoulders, she pushed open the door all the way and left the suffocating compartment before her rage exploded.
    * * *
    Leini sat on Grandpa’s lap and played with his pocket watch. He read her a story from Scheherazade . Mamma said she was too young for the stories, but Leini thought they were nice, and the pictures were pretty. She liked “Aladdin and the Slave of the Lamp” the best. Some of them she knew by heart. She wished Mamma would read to her sometimes, but she had more important things to do, she said.
    After a while Grandpa yawned and lifted her to sit with Grandma Britta. “I’m tired, my princess. I’ll have a little shut-eye, then we’ll have a bite to eat. What do you say?”
    Leini nodded. Warm and secure, she leaned her back against Grandma Britta’s soft bosom. She inhaled her scent. Grandma once told her it was called L’Air du Temps. It smelled good, like lots of flowers. Leini only half-listened to her tell the story of Heidi . Worry made her stomach hurt. She touched Grandma’s cheek with her fingertips, soft, like Mamma’s silky dressing gown. “Will my papi know where to find me?”
    “What do you mean, my little dove?”
    “I’m not at home, so will he find me in Vete…?”
    “But of course he will. Does this worry you?”
    Leini buried her face against Grandma Britta’s breast and squeezed her eyes shut to make the tears go away. “Yes, if he can’t find me, I’ll never see him again.”
    “Oh, my baby. Don’t worry. Grandma and Grandpa wrote to him. I’m sure Mamma did, too.” Grandma Britta wrapped her arms around her, holding her close. “Here’s what we’ll do.” Grandma’s voice was gentle. “As soon as we’re settled in Veteli, we’ll write to him, you and me. I’ll help you.” Grandma Britta kissed her cheek. “How about it?”
    “That’s good, Grandma.” Leini hugged her around the neck. “I know how to write ‘My Papi.’” Content, she sighed, her mind at rest. Papi would know where she was. He would come for her when the war was over.
    A chilly air from the door made Leini shiver. She pulled her lips to a smile as Mamma entered, but she sat in her seat as before, didn’t look at Leini at all.
    She turned in Grandma Britta’s lap and watched Grandpa sleep. He breathed evenly through half-open lips, the thumb of each hand stuck inside the breast pockets of his vest. Apart from a ring of soft downy hair, which grew around the base of his head, he had no hair at all.
    As if he sensed Leini’s look, Grandpa opened his eyes and gently pinched her cheek.
    Leini settled in Grandma’s comfy lap. Within minutes she fell asleep. She dreamt Papi was looking for her in all the wrong places.