The Finnish Fiasco, Chapter Four
The plane began to descend and Celia’s ears popped but she was too worried to notice. “I do hope the authorities won’t delay you for long,” Penny said. “Is someone meeting you in Helsinki?”
“My distant cousin is sending a driver to meet me,” Celia replied. “He’s supposed to have a sign with my name on it.” Her stomach did not feel good. “What will happen to Jumpy?”
“I have an idea,” Penny said. “Let me carry Jumpy off the plane. I’ll hide her inside my coat. That way, no matter what happens she’ll be safe with me.”
“Roll up your blanket and put it in the crate. Cover it with my blanket and it will look like Jumpy is hiding underneath,” Percy said.
“Perfect!” said Penny, and clapped her hands delightedly.
“But how will I find you?” Celia asked. The plan sounded good, but so many things can go wrong with plans, even ones that sound good.
“There’s a coffee shop next to the baggage claim. It has a red awning that says “Kahvi” over the entrance. We’ll sit at a table in the back and wait for you.”
Celia was not sure that this plan would work, but she could see no other choice if she hoped to save Jumpy.
The plane touched down smoothly. It’s always a relief to be on the ground again, even when you know you are about to be taken away for an interrogation. Outside the window, a gray drizzle fell. Celia opened Jumpy’s crate and handed her to Penny, who tucked the cat into her coat. “Be good, Jumpy,” Celia whispered.
The male flight attendant approached Celia. “Get your belongings and the animal and come with me.” Celia did as she was told and resisted the urge to look at Penny’s coat. At the jetway, two uniformed men were waiting. One of the men had a crooked scar across his forehead. The other one had abnormally small ears. Neither looked friendly.
“Here’s the troublemaker,” the male flight attendant said. “She claimed to be a well-behaved child, but it turns out that she was lying.”
“No problem,” said Scarhead. “We have a lot of experience with troublemakers.” He spoke in heavily accented English. Where’s your passport?” Celia handed it to him. “This way,” he said. He moved to one side of her and the small-eared man took up a position on the other. It made Celia feel like a prisoner, which she supposed she was. Sometimes, being a prisoner can make you feel like crying, even if you know it’s useless, and this was one of those times.
The two men took her to a glass booth at the immigration area. “American passenger for interrogation,” said Scarhead. The immigration officer, a pretty young woman with red lipstick and blonde hair piled high on her head, looked at Celia’s passport.
“My goodness, she’s only nine. Isn’t that rather young for an interrogation?”
“Troublemakers come in all shapes and sizes,” said Scarhead. “All ages, too.”
“That may be true,” said the woman, frowning, “but I’ve never seen a nine-year-old taken for interrogation.” She stamped Celia’s passport. Celia wanted to tell her what had happened, but she wasn’t sure if she was allowed to talk.
It’s an interesting phenomenon that when people are mean to you, as pretty much everybody was being mean to Celia, it can be easier to not cry than when someone is being kind to you. And so, when the young woman smiled at Celia after stamping her passport and said “I’m sure this is all just a misunderstanding,” and patted her hand, Celia felt a tear trickle down her cheek.
“Oh dear,” said the woman. “Doesn’t she have parents or someone traveling with her?”
“You must be new on the job,” Scarhead said. “Troublemakers are excellent actors. She’s trying to make you feel sorry for her.” He grasped Celia’s arm and yanked her towards an elevator.
The elevator descended for a long time, then the doors opened onto a dimly lit corridor. “This way,” said Scarhead. After many turns and twists they arrived at a door.
On it was a brass plate that said “Kuulusteluhuoneeseen” which is “Interrogation Room” in Finnish. Celia knew that this is what it meant because the English translation was written on the sign also.
Interrogation rooms always look the same. The floor is concrete and a bare light bulb hangs from the ceiling. Underneath the light bulb there is a very hard and uncomfortable chair. There are no windows. It is a frightening place to be, and as you might imagine, Celia was feeling quite frightened.
“Go sit over there, in that very hard and uncomfortable chair, and wait,” Scarhead commanded.
“What am I waiting for?” Celia asked. She was trying to be brave but her legs were very tired and she could feel her heart plunking against her ribs.
“We ask the questions, not you!” shouted Scarhead. He and his tiny-eared companion watched until Celia sat in the very hard and uncomfortable chair, then they left. She heard the lock click into place when they closed the door.
It’s difficult to tell how much time has passed when you are scared and there are no windows or clocks, but it felt like hours until Celia heard the door open. Two people entered. One was the female flight attendant who had an enormous bandage on the hand that Jumpy had scratched and possibly bitten. The other was a tall, thin man with a beaky nose. He stood in front of Celia, his legs apart and his lips pursed in disapproval. Dark tufts of hair sprouted from his nostrils.
“So—you did not follow the rules,” the tall thin man said.
“I guess not,” Celia said.
“Do you admit that you are responsible for the injury suffered by this employee?”
“Yes,” Celia said. She didn’t really think it was her fault that the attendant had yanked Jumpy’s tail, but she knew better than to present her point of view in a situation such as this.
“Very well. You will be billed for medical expenses and permanently banned from flying on Irascible Air. Also, we are taking the cat to be tested for diseases.”
“She’s had all her shots. I have a copy of her veterinary record,” Celia said. What would happen when this horrible man discovered that there was no cat in the crate?
“We still need to test.” He peered into the crate. “It won’t do you any good to hide under the blanket, kitty. I hope you enjoy sharp needles.”
“They’ll need a muzzle,” said the flight attendant, waving her bandage around. “It’s a vicious beast.”
“Contact the Animal Quarantine office in three days and we’ll let you know if you can have the cat back. Of course, there won’t be much left if we decide to dissect her brain.” The man handed her a card. “Meanwhile, you’re free to go.”
“I am?” Celia could hardly believe she was being allowed to leave, but she knew she needed to hurry before Jumpy’s absence was discovered.
“Yes. Someone will escort you to baggage claim.”
The first thing Celia did after she found her suitcase was to look for the coffee shop with the red awning. She saw the Pendergasts at a table in the back. Penny was wearing her coat and a worried expression. Just above the coat’s collar, Jumpy’s ears and green eyes were visible.
“Thank goodness you’re here,” Penny said. “We’ve been worried sick!”
“What happened?” asked Percy.
Celia explained where she had been. “Any second now, they’ll discover that Jumpy is missing.” Suddenly, she remembered that she was supposed to be looking for the driver sent by her cousin. “I have to find my driver,” she said
“How will you carry Jumpy without a crate?” Percy asked.
“Take my coat,” Penny said. “It’s a bit large, but I’ll roll the sleeves up.”
Celia put on the coat, then her backpack, and last of all tucked Jumpy inside the coat where a large pocket was just the right size for a cat. Penny handed her a slip of paper with a phone number written on it. “We live here in Finland, on a farm where we raise Welsh ponies and give children riding lessons. If you need anything at all, call us.” Celia promised that she would, and stuck the paper into her backpack.
