“Hallo, ladies!” A tap on the bathroom door announced that Anni and Marketta were ready for the sauna. The door opened. Penny and I turned around, and both the older women burst out laughing. They were laughing at us.
“Look at you!” Marketta chortled. “This is a good joke! You are both wearing bathing suits!”
Penny and I immediately turned our gaze away from the obviously free-spirited women.
In unison, Penny and I said, “And you are not!”
Fourteen
Yes, Marketta and Anni had prepared for the sauna by shedding their clothing and appearing at the bathroom door wearing their seventy-year-old skin and nothing else.
And they were laughing at us!
“Did you think we would go swimming first?” Marketta asked, still laughing. “Is that why you have on your swimming cap?”
Neither of us could bring ourselves to look directly at the saggy-baggy sisters.
“We’ve never been in a sauna,” I explained.
“Oh, why did you not say this? I will tell you how this goes. One does not wear clothes in sauna. We sit. When we are warm, we go in the snow. If we had a lake, we would go in through the ice. But there is not a lake here. Only snow outside.”
“No lake, huh?” Penny pulled the shower cap off her head. “No way to cut a hole in the ice and take a dip. Isn’t that too bad?”
I subtly nudged Penny with my elbow and explained, “This is unusual for us.”
Anni placed her hand on the wooden door that opened to the sauna, as if testing the temperature. Marketta gave me a puzzled look. She didn’t seem to understand why we were hesitant.
Penny said, “Life is too short. When in Finland …” She slid out of her bathing suit and quickly wrapped herself in a bath towel. “You don’t mind if I go in with a towel, do you?”
“You will be too hot,” Marketta said. “Come. You will see.”
Anni opened the door to the sauna and stepped inside, closing the door behind her. A wave of warm air filled the tiled bathroom.
I felt paralyzed for a moment. I had thought after giving birth to four children that I was no longer modest about anything. Apparently childbirth hadn’t completely cured me, because this was definitely a stretch. It seemed to be all or nothing with these aged women, and Penny was willing to go for nothing.
Okay, this is it. I can stand here all night with my undies in a bunch, or I can be fearless and join the other flabby chicks in the Finnish sauna.
I chose to be fearless.
But I took the bath towel with me for camouflage.
The sauna was hot. Dry, desert, well-over-one-hundred-degrees hot. The “hot box” was made of wood with one wide, wooden bench for the four of us to sit on, hip to hip. None of us was narrow in the berth, so we filled the bench and all sat facing a rock-based heating element of some sort that rose from the floor next to a wooden bucket that was filled with water. Anni reached for the bucket, scooped a small ladleful of water, and poured it over the rocks. A dragon-sized hiss and puff of steam appeared.
No one spoke.
Anni, to my right, breathed in the steam and exhaled slowly. I tried to do the same. The heated air seemed to stretch my lungs and open my pores. I realized this was the warmest I had been since we arrived in Finland. I closed my eyes and felt the tension in my shoulders relax. My arms felt heavy. My nervous toes uncurled. My jaw went slack.
Oh yeah, I could see how this could be relaxing. I realized that the naked part was hardly an issue. No one was looking at anyone else. All four of us were silent.
Marketta was the first to speak. Her tone was hushed and slow. “Penny, did Elsa never take you for sauna?”
“No.”
A moment later, Penny added, “I’m sure they have plenty of saunas at resorts and health clubs in the U.S., but I’ve never been in one, and my mom never had enough money to visit such a place.”
“Did Elsa not tell you much about her life in Finland?” Anni asked.
“No, not much. If she did, I’m sorry to admit I didn’t pay attention. I know even less about my father.”
“Hank was a pirate,” Anni stated firmly.
“So I’ve heard. He stole my mother away from here and away from her family.”
“Yes. He also stole secrets from the U.S. government.” Anni tossed another ladleful of water on the rocks.
A loud hiss filled the sauna. I could feel myself perspiring.
“Is that true?” Penny’s voice sounded choked. I couldn’t see her face without leaning over and craning my neck.
“We don’t know,” Marketta said. “Hank came to Finland after the war. We had learned for all those war years to be suspicious of anyone who was from another country. He worked at the embassy. Elsa met him there. Our parents did not want her with Hank, but Elsa was not one who did our parents’ wishes.”
“Did they elope?”
“I do not know this word.”
“Did my mother get married without permission?”
“She was old enough to marry,” Marketta said. “They married with the law.”
“Legally?” Penny suggested.
I remembered how Penny knew a few things about not being legally married. How strange if her mother and father had been joined the way Penny was joined to Wolf.
However, that wasn’t the case. Marketta assured Penny that her parents were legally married, but the ceremony hadn’t taken place in a church.
“My parents never stopped being sad for that,” Marketta said. “When Elsa left for America with Hank, she said they would come back one day. But Hank died from a short sickness. Then you were born, and no one had money to bring you and your mother back. Those were times without much money.”
Anni spoke up. “You should tell her, Marketta.”
Marketta answered Anni in Finnish, and the two friends exchanged swift words.
“Tell me what?” Penny asked.
I was perspiring like crazy. It felt like the truth was about to pour out of Marketta the way all the sweat was pouring out of me. I considered stepping into the bathroom to cool off, but I didn’t want to miss a thing.
“Tell me what, Aunt Marketta? I’ve felt all along there’s more to this than anyone has said over the years. I want to know.”
“If your mother wanted you to know—” Marketta began.
“Know what?” Penny challenged.
Silence.
Anni shifted and spoke firmly. “Marketta, there are no secrets in sauna. Tell her.”
That’s for sure! Nothing else is covered up in here.
Marketta took a deep breath. “You were born five months after your parents married.”
Silence in the sauna.
“I thought it might be something like that,” Penny said in a low voice. “When I went through her things, I never found her marriage certificate. I wondered many times over the years if she really was married. For a while I wondered if she invented my dad just so she would appear respectable when she tried to get a job.”
“Oh no, your father was real,” Marketta said. “He was handsome and strong, and he was persuasive. Do you understand how it was at that time? How it was for Elsa? She would be the only girl in all our region and in our family to have a baby and not a husband. Hank wanted Elsa. He wanted you. He could not live here because of his job. If Elsa wanted Hank, she had to go with him.”
“And she did,” Penny said softly. “She left everything for him.”
“I wish you could have known your father,” Marketta said. “I believe Hank was a good husband to Elsa, even for so short a time. He would have been a good father to you.”
Marketta paused. “Are you sad that you know this?”
“No, I wanted to know. Thank you for telling me. I was just wishing that somehow your parents could have accepted my dad so maybe things could have been different.”
“Our parents were worried about Elsa’s heart more than anything.”
“Yes, I guess that’s how it is with all pa
rents, isn’t it? Thank you, Aunt Marketta. I’m glad you told me everything.”
“Say your thank you to Anni. She told me this information is the only gift you want to take home from Finland.”
“It is.”
Anni clapped her hands together. “This is good time for the snow!”
“Yes, come!” Marketta hopped up and opened the sauna’s door. A rush of cooler air from the tiled bathroom blew in. I grabbed my towel and wrapped it around me.
Anni led us through the bathroom, past the lace-covered table in the room where the music was once again playing on the stereo, and out a back door into the snowy night. The dim light that shone through the kitchen window spread a transparent glow over the fresh snowfield. The open area extended only ten yards or so before the forest and darkness took over the landscape.
A few snowflakes fluttered in the frozen night air. I was so heated up I didn’t feel them as they touched me. I imagined the snowflakes were like meteorites burning up as they entered Earth’s atmosphere.
I stood there, incinerating snowflakes with my bare arms and watching as Anni and Marketta, with all the grace of prima ballerinas performing a scene from Swan Lake, lowered themselves into the untouched snow. Murmuring to each other the ancient language of best friends, they rolled in the pure white flakes. They moved with a dignified agility that matched their uninhibited spirits.
“Come, before you lose your hot,” Anni said.
I laughed. Before I lose my hot.
Penny and I were both wrapped in our towels. I didn’t feel cold. Only the bottoms of my feet were aware that I was standing in snow. They weren’t complaining at the moment.
“It’s now or never,” Penny said.
“You first,” I said.
“Let’s go together. On the count of three, we’ll drop our towels and run over there to the right. Do you see that open patch?”
“Yes. Okay. I’ll count.”
“No, I’ll count,” Penny said.
Marketta and Anni laughed at us again. “You two are good at making jokes together.”
“Come on,” Penny said. “One …”
I joined her. “Two, three!” We dropped our towels, burst out laughing, and splayed our unsuspecting hot bods in the fluffed-up snow.
Every pore in my body suddenly woke up and screamed at me. What are you doing!?
Go with it! I told my pores. Experience this. Take it in.
All around me and inside of me was silence. I remember looking up and seeing a single, brilliant star in the night sky. The rest of the stars, I suppose, were smart enough to cover their eyes from such a sight.
I didn’t feel naked. I didn’t feel cold. I felt very much alive.
“Back to sauna!” Anni announced.
Penny already had gotten up. She tossed my towel at me.
As I was rising and wrapping up in the towel, Penny threw a snowball that missed me by a mere inch. I tried to pack a snowball to retaliate, but when I threw it, the snowball went poof like a dandelion in the wind. Penny had her second snowball ready. That one self-destructed as soon as she launched it. The gleaming particles of white floated to the ground.
We laughed deeply, standing there in the snow, wearing only our bath towels. Our breath and our snow-dusted hair were illuminated by the glow of the kitchen light. The air was so cold, our puffs of laughter seemed to crystallize and float to the earth on translucent clouds.
Penny caught her breath and said in her most naive, awestruck voice, “Sharon, are we in Finland?”
“Yes, Penny, I believe we are.”
“So this isn’t just an elaborate dream I’m having?”
“Nope. This is all real.”
“Wow!”
“Yeah, wow.”
Penny turned the handle on the back door. It didn’t open.
“Try pushing it,” I suggested.
Penny pushed with her shoulder. It didn’t budge. “Hello!” Penny knocked on the door. “Can you hear me, Marketta?”
From inside we heard playful giggling.
“Who is out there?” Anni called from the kitchen.
“Why those little grannies! They locked us out!” Penny pounded on the door. “Let us in, or we’ll huff and we’ll puff and we’ll blow your house down!”
More muffled giggles floated outside. I was thoroughly thawed out now and feeling the cold. The door opened an inch.
“Who is come to my door?” Anni asked.
“Two freezing snow bunnies. Let us in!”
Anni opened the door all the way. “How nice of you to come visit!”
“Make way,” Penny said. “I’m heading for the sauna, and nobody is going to stop me!”
“Just like your mother,” I heard Marketta say with a chuckle.
I couldn’t wait to get back in the sauna and feel that extravagant heat. This time the heat made my cold skin feel prickly. All four of us immediately mellowed.
“This is making me sleepy,” Penny said.
“You will sleep well tonight,” Anni said. “Would you like the first shower?”
Penny showered and pulled on her pajamas. I was right behind her. We sipped small glasses of berry juice and listened to the soothing music on the stereo.
Anni showed us to her guest room. She had pulled back the fluffy comforters on the two twin beds and lit a candle on the windowsill. I stretched out and pulled the comforter up to my chin.
I couldn’t remember how old I was. Or where I was. Or if I’d ever seen a star before tonight.
Sometime later, in the padded darkness, I heard Penny’s voice. “Are you awake?”
“Hmm?”
“Sharon, are you awake?”
“No.”
“It’s morning, Sharon. Wake up. I have something to tell you.”
I opened one eye. Penny was sitting up in the twin bed across from mine, but I could only see her shadow because the room was still dark.
“What time is it?”
“Almost six.”
“Penny, why are you awake?”
“I could hardly sleep. I’ve been waiting for morning to come so I could tell you my idea.”
“What idea?”
“Let’s go to England.”
“Okay.” I pulled up the comforter over my shoulder and mumbled, “When we get home, we’ll plan another trip. To England. I’ll buy the tour book. You can buy the plane tickets.”
“No, I mean today, Sharon. Let’s go to England today.”
Despite my better judgment, I opened both eyes and squinted in an attempt to read the expression on Penny’s face. She was serious.
“Why?”
“I want to meet my cousin. Marketta’s daughter, Elina. Remember? She lives in England.”
“Don’t you want to see more of Finland?”
“No.”
“Penny …”
“I can’t explain it, Sharon, but this trip to Finland is done for me. We have five more days before our plane flies out of Heathrow. What’s to keep us from changing our connecting tickets and flying to Heathrow today? I’ll call Elina to see if we can visit her. I can hand-deliver my mom’s letters so Elina can start to translate them.”
“Penny …”
“Before you say anything, just think about it. Think about how convenient it would be to adjust our plans.”
“What plans?”
“Exactly! I knew you would agree with me. Our plans are flexible.”
“Very flexible.”
“We can do whatever we want.”
“Within reason.”
“This is within reason. Come on, Sharon. What do you say? Let’s go to England today!”
I let out an exaggerated sigh. “Why not?” As if my opinion mattered for anything at this point.
Marketta was more understanding than I think I would have been if someone woke me by clomping around at six-thirty in the morning. Anni cheerfully made us breakfast. Marketta made a few phone calls, checked on bus schedules, and helped us to organize ou
r crazy plan. She kept saying she was sorry to see us go so soon. I told Marketta I was sorry to leave, too, but Penny was barely aware of our conversation. She was on the phone with the airline and managed to arrange a flight that left at two.
Our hugs and kisses for Anni were brief at the bus stop because the bus was already there, waiting. Penny and Marketta sat beside each other on the bus ride and talked the whole time. I tried to catch a little more sleep.
Juhani was ready when we arrived at their apartment complex in Porvoo. While Marketta gathered the letters from Penny’s mom and a few photos, Juhani put our luggage in the car. He drove like a wild man to get us to the airport in time. His car had aired out considerably, but we still rode with the windows down a few inches because of the lingering fish fragrance. I think Penny was too preoccupied to be bothered by the odor this time.
I found it difficult to say good-bye to Juhani and Marketta. I wasn’t ready to leave them or to leave Finland. I’d read about and marked in the tour book so many places of interest, but now we were leaving after seeing very little of Finland.
Once again, I reminded myself that this was Penny’s trip, and she was the one to call the shots. I was merely the travel companion, and travel companions don’t have much of a say in things.
The problem was that having “emerged” so much during the past few days, I found it difficult to fall in line behind my trailblazing friend. If it had been my trip, I would have stayed the rest of the time with Marketta and Anni and let them show me the Finland they knew and loved.
But Penny and I were boarding a plane, and barring possible ice storms and layovers at unnamed airports, we would be in London before our next meal.
Fifteen
The best part about our flight to Heathrow was that it was uneventful. I dozed with my head against the window. Penny fidgeted in the aisle seat. The middle seat remained empty, and I was glad for the invisible buffer between us. It seemed to me that everything the two of us had enjoyed so thoroughly for the past seven days could be overturned if this impulsive jaunt to England turned out to be a disaster.
I kept telling myself to relax and go along for the ride. Penny was a woman on a mission, and I knew there was no stopping her. As liberated as I felt, my role was still the cheerful cosmic DustBuster.