The Finnish Fiasco, Chapter Five
Near the glass doors exiting the airport, Celia saw a small, dark man inside a chauffeur’s uniform that was several sizes too large. He held an orange cardboard sign that read “CELIA THE ORPHAN”. Celia almost turned around and went back to her new friends, Penny and Percy. They might let her live with them–she could be helpful by washing dishes and feeding the ponies. Then again, maybe this driver was just a stupid man who didn’t realize that it was rude to hold a sign that said “CELIA THE ORPHAN” instead of “CELIA WHO IS GOING TO LIVE WITH HER DISTANT COUSIN” or just plain “CELIA.” She approached the man.
“Ah, Celia the Orphan, I presume?” he said in a high-pitched voice.
“I’m Celia,” Celia said. She would have liked to say more, but she was afraid that things might go from bad to worse, as they often tend to do.
An announcement blared out in Finnish over the airport loudspeakers. Celia heard the word “kissa” which is Finnish for “cat.” The announcement repeated in English. “Alert, all persons in the terminal. Please notify airport security if you see a cat. This cat is brown and black striped with green eyes. It is considered dangerous and most likely infected with rabies and other deadly diseases. Keep small children under close supervision until further notice.”
People glanced around nervously and a nearby mother grabbed her toddler and strapped him into a stroller. “We should go,” Celia said, and hurried through the glass doors that swooshed open, the little man following. He tossed the orphan sign into a trash can. A shiny black car was parked at the curb, next to a No Parking sign.
“Get in,” the little man ordered. He went to the driver’s side and did not open the passenger door for Celia or offer to help with her suitcase. She managed to shove her baggage into the back seat, then climbed in with Jumpy. She had barely seated herself when the car lurched off with a squeal of tires against the pavement.
“Mrrooowww,” Jumpy complained. Celia could tell that her cat did not like this man, and she didn’t either. She hoped that her cousin wasn’t quite as awful.
“How far is it to my cousin’s house?” she asked.
“Your cousin’s house?” The driver laughed and Celia could see his yellow teeth in the rear view mirror. They looked very much like the incisors of Ratty, the pet rat that Mrs. Duffy kept in the classroom. “I AM your cousin, dear Celia. You may call me Paavo.”
“Oh.” This was not good. This was perhaps an even worse situation than she had imagined. “Why didn’t you tell me that before?”
“Why didn’t you ask before?”
“Well—because I thought you were the driver that my cousin—I mean, you—said you were going to send,” Celia said, feeling confused.
“I had intended to send my chauffeur, because I am a busy man, much too busy to waste time fetching orphans at the airport, but the chauffeur met with an unfortunate accident and was unable to come.”
Paavo drove on, silently. Celia wondered what had happened to the chauffeur. What did Paavo mean by “unfortunate accident”? That could mean anything from stubbing one’s toe to being struck by lightning.
The Finnish countryside was flat and green with fields of spotted cows and shadowy forests. They passed a lake that looked as sparkling clean as Mrs. Thompson had described. Everything was beautiful, but Celia was too anxious to enjoy the scenery. She was getting a Nervous Knot in the middle of her belly which was always a reliable sign that unpleasant things were likely to happen. A car wreck, for instance. Paavo was driving like a maniac. Either Finland didn’t have speed limits or he was ignoring them.
Just as Celia was about to ask how much longer they would be driving, the car swept around a bend and a monstrous Pink Castle appeared. When one hears the word castle, one envisions an elegant structure with turrets and a drawbridge. This castle was not like that. For one thing, it was a shocking shade of pink. For another, it was crooked, with the walls leaning at odd angles and the windows set off-kilter. It was something an intoxicated architect might design. It stood on a hillside and looked as though a good shove would send it tumbling down into a crumpled pile of pink rubble.
“This is where you live?” Although the castle was ugly, it was still a castle. Maybe her room would be in one of the tilting turrets.
“Yes,” said Paavo. He drove past the castle, toward a ramshackle structure behind it.
“Where are we going?”
“I said I live there. I did not say you live there, because you don’t. You’ll be living in the barn with the ponies. But don’t worry— you’ll get to spend plenty of time in the castle doing all the cooking and cleaning.”
“Cooking and cleaning?” Celia had no experience with either of these things unless you counted making her bed and pouring a bowl of cereal. “Don’t castles come with servants?”
“They do, but now that you’re here they won’t be needed, so I fired them all.” The car stopped in front of the barn, which had seen better days. At one time it had been red, but most of the paint had flaked off and the door was hanging from one hinge. A cracked flower pot next to the door contained a dying geranium.
“What are you waiting for?” Paavo asked. “I have things to do.”
“But this is just an old barn!” Celia hoped that perhaps this was Paavo’s idea of a joke.
“Orphans can’t be choosers. I’m giving you the rest of today off, as a special treat, but l’ll expect you in the kitchen tomorrow morning. Have breakfast on the table by eight.” Paavo scowled at Jumpy. “Don’t even think about bringing that disgusting animal with you or I’ll have it tossed out a window.”
The car spun away, churning gravel, and Celia was left standing in front of the moldy barn in the deepening shadows, suitcase in one hand and Jumpy in the other. Looking for a Silver Lining even though she was tired and hungry and alone in a strange country, Celia remembered that Paavo had mentioned ponies. “Ponies, Jumpy! We’ll be living with ponies!” She tried to sound happy, because if you pretend you are happy, oftentimes you will start to feel happy. She put her face in Jumpy’s fur and inhaled the smell of birthday cake and sunshine. Then she opened the creaky one-hinged door and entered her new home.
