The Fire Witness

187

Joona slowed down as they drove up to the train station. He parked and opened the trunk and lifted out the huge suitcase on wheels.

“Did you remove your things last night?” Summa asked.

“I did.”

“Did you put other stuff inside?”

He nodded and looked away toward the station: four parallel lines of tracks, embankments of rust-colored gravel, weeds, and dark crossties.

“Your daughter needs you in her life.”

“I have no choice.” He looked inside his car’s rear window to where Lumi was pushing her big, soft doll into her backpack.

“You have many choices,” Summa continued. “Instead of fighting, you’re giving up. You have no idea if this threat is real. I just don’t understand all this.”

“I can’t find Lollo!” Lumi complained.

“The train leaves in twenty minutes,” Joona said.

“I don’t want to live without you,” Summa said, and took his hand. “I want things to go on as they were.”

“I know.”

“If you do this to us, you will be all alone.”

He didn’t answer. Lumi climbed out of the car and dropped her backpack on the ground. A red barrette was hanging loosely in her hair.

“Are you ready to live the rest of your life alone?”

“I am,” he said.

Joona could not look at her. He gazed across the tracks. Between the trees on the other side of the tracks, the northern bay of Lake Siljan was glittering.

“Say goodbye to Pappa, now,” Summa said. She pushed her daughter toward her father.

Lumi stood still and didn’t look up.

“Hurry up,” Summa says.

Lumi looks up and says, “Bye-bye, Monkey.”

“Properly. Say goodbye properly.” Summa showed her irritation.

“I don’t want to,” Lumi said.

She clung to her mother’s leg.

“Do it anyway,” Summa said.

Joona squatted down before his tiny daughter.

“Can I have a hug?”

She shakes her head.

“Well, here comes the monkey with his long, long arms!” he joked.

Joona lifted her up. He felt her little body resist-she knew something was seriously wrong. She wriggled to get down, but Joona held her close, just for a while, just to inhale the scent of her neck.

“You silly!” she shouted.

“Lumi,” Joona whispered against her cheek. “Never forget that I love you more than anything else.”

“Time to go,” Summa said.

Joona set his daughter down. He wanted to pet her on the cheek but couldn’t bring himself to do so. He felt as if he was shattering into pieces. Summa was staring at him in fear. Her neck was stiff. She grabbed Lumi’s hand and pulled her away.

They waited for the train in silence. There was nothing more to say.

Downy dandelion seeds blew over the tracks.

There was a burned smell from the brakes as the train rolled away from the platform. He stood and stared at his daughter’s pale face through the train window. Her little hand was waving slowly. Summa was a black shadow sitting rigidly next to her. She did not look at him. Before the train reached the bend toward the harbor, Joona turned and walked back to his car.