The Lion of Justice by Lehtolainen Leena

Author:Lehtolainen, Leena [Lehtolainen, Leena]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2015-03-13T17:47:42+00:00

only one way to find out, but I hesitated. I looked outside; the theater in the corner of Yrjö and Eerikki Streets must’ve had a matinee, because lots of people were pouring in. Monika had season tickets, and she tried to drag me along a few times. Then I thought about

hanging the laundry to dry in the living room before I left for work.

I was coming up with things to do instead of calling Kari Suurluoto.

Maybe he was some other Kari, or maybe he’d cut my father out of

his life the same way I had.

I forced myself to dial, and he answered immediately, as if he

had been waiting for the call.

“Hello, this is Suurluoto.”

“Hi, this is Hilja . . . formerly Suurluoto. Keijo’s daughter,” I

said.

There was a long pause. I could tell he was in a car and using a

hands-free device, which would explain how he’d answered so fast.

“Hilja?” he finally said. “I thought you lived abroad. I was told

you were in the US.”

“I’m in Finland now,” I said.

“This is actually a bad time. I’m driving a car full of people.

What were you calling about?”

“I wanted to talk about my father. You were his only relative to

come to my mother’s funeral.”

There was a long silence. Girls were giggling in the background.

“Like I said, this is a bad time. Can you call me in a half hour?”

But then I’d be on my way to work. We agreed to talk on

Monday morning. Suurluoto would be at his office filling out

reports, so he was available to chat.

Now that I’d finally gotten a hold of him, I had a hard time

letting him go. Even such a short time felt like an excruciating

wait. Monika had taken the van to pick up some newly harvested

potatoes, and I made it to Sans Nom in time to help her unpack.

144

Leena LehtoLainen

Veikko and his buddies were hanging around the back door, hoping

to get some leftover bread and mashed potatoes from the previous

evening.

“Did they catch those burglars?” asked Veikko.

“We haven’t heard back from the police,” I told him.

He looked disappointed. “Want a swig?” he asked, offering me

a bottle of table wine. I told him no thanks and offered him some

coffee to keep him warm. Nights were already chilly, so I was sure it was getting cold in the recycling bin he slept in.

“This building is a good place for me. Nobody ever chases me

away. Apartment buildings call the cops right away. We don’t mean

any harm, and these newspapers and magazines were abandoned

here. We’re not stealing,” Veikko said while chewing on a piece of bread with his four remaining teeth.

“But what are we supposed to do when they stop printing

papers and put all the news on the web? Kilobytes don’t make for

warm blankets,” his friend said.

“That won’t happen anytime soon. We’ll be gone by then.”

Veikko smiled. “How many winters did they promise you? Last

time in rehab they told me the Grim Reaper would come any day,

unless I quit drinking. Every day could be your last, so let’s drink to that!”

It could be the last day for anyone, I thought while I fed potatoes into the peeling machine.

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