Ari seemed to sense Kaapo's discomfort. "Sure. Why not?"
"Why not? Because. She is going to invite one of her friends from when she worked the bag line. She's trying to match you up with a wife, Ari. That's why not."
"Oh. Yes. I see your point. Still, if Sanna asked I don't see how I can say no. I don't want to get her mad at me."
When he came to dinner, he brought a fine sheepskin to line the cradle with. "It's to keep the little one warm," he said. "She's such a small thing she can't make enough heat to be happy."
****
"Did you hear?" Kaapo asked Ari. "They have a warehouse full of sawdust and now they're going to turn some of it into charcoal and press it into little bricks."
"That's even dumber than sending ice to Africa."
****
Early in July Kaapo came home to find his home in a mess. "What is going on?" he asked, looking around.
"A building supervisor stopped by this morning and asked when it would be all right for them to do some work on the apartment. I said any time and he said, 'how about today.' Since there are now three of us, they are putting a loft over part of the washroom."
"We can't put a cradle up in a loft."
"No, but Klara won't be a baby forever. They're looking to the future."
****
The seasons turned. October claimed its turn on the calendar's front page.
"Kaapo, you look like someone just kic-" Ari stopped in mid-word. "What's wrong?"
"The baby has the measles. The clinic says to keep her warm and feed her often and to get a wet nurse if Sanna can't feed her enough to keep her wetting her diapers. They said there is nothing else they can do. But she's not keeping anything down. The nurse said it doesn't look good."
"Damn it!" Ari said. "It's not fair. She's just a year old. I thought with the sewer system and running water, the kids weren't suppose to get sick."
Kaapo shrugged.
For the next three days, Ari worked without uttering a word beyond those absolutely needed to do the job. Tears ran down his quiet face at the funeral.
All the next week, after the funeral, Ari said only what had to be said, and truth be told not even half of that. Kaapo began to find it oppressive. The following week the silence continued until Kaapo broke down and screamed. "Damn it, Ari, say something. You're scaring the life out of me."
At the sound of someone screaming, the foreman came running, expecting to find either an accident or a fight, either one being bad news. When he got there he found both men working away in complete silence with tears running down their faces. There was no blood and they were still working, so it wasn't an accident. There were no red patches which would be bruises later. Ari could have twisted Kaapo into knots as easily as he lifted a two inch pipe over his head, so it wasn't a fight. "What's going on? Is everything all right?" the foreman demanded.
At first neither man said a word. Then Ari started to a shake exactly like a man who was swallowing too much grief.
"We'll work it out," Kaapo said. "It just needs some time."
The foreman looked at the blank in the jigs. "Listen, offload this one and get out of here. You're already over quota for the day. Go get drunk and come back tomorrow, ready to work without screaming at each other." The foreman looked at Ari. "Forget finishing this one. I'll do it. Just get him out of here and go get him drunk."
Kaapo led Ari out of the shop. The man had his eyes closed and his jaw clamped.
In the nearest tavern, Ari poured his first beer down his throat almost as fast as you could say the words. Kaapo pushed his beer across the table and it followed the first one just as quickly. The barmaid saw the first empty, and knowing the symptoms, had two more beers there about the time there was a second empty mug on the table. This time Ari gulped a solid portion of his beer but did not guzzle it all in one lift.
When the mug was sitting on the table Ari said, "I had a wife." Tears ran down his face. "We had three children. Each died before their first birthday. Then Anna died giving birth to the fourth child." Both men were crying again. "It's not fair," Ari said quietly. "Anna was a sweet little thing. All of the children had her eyes and looked like they would have my size. The first three were boys, the fourth a girl." Ari kept talking about his wife and children as tears streamed down his face. "When the girl died a few days after I lost her mother, I walked away, leaving everything I had for my family to split up. I walked for three months. When my money ran out, I found work or walked hungry." Tears started to dry up. "When I tried to get a job on a boat to work my way across the sea, the captain said no, but he would give me a ride to where I could find a good job if I agreed to pay him later. What he wanted was three times what the passage normally costs. I didn't care. When we got here he took me to a tavern and introduced me to Aappo and told him I was a good worker and I was looking for a job." Ari chuckled a bit. "How he knew I was a good worker, I have no idea. But he didn't care if I had an Orthodox name instead of a Lutheran one and so I might be Rus. Aappo didn't care, either. I think giving me a job was the captain calling in a favor Aappo owed him. Anyway, Aappo walked me over to the mill and turned me over to the office there, and here I am." The tears had pretty much stopped flowing.
"Then the priest threw a fit when he learned my name. Aristarkhos is Orthodox, after all. If I have an Orthodox name then I might be Rus. I'm not. But I might be, and people around here have no use for Russians. I'm from LakeLadoga, and we're Karelian. The priest, no, the pastor, made sure I knew my catechism. I think he was more concerned about making sure I was paying my tithes." At this both Ari and Kaapo laughed.
"Well, that's how I got here. What's your story?" Ari asked.
"The farm had a bad harvest. There wasn't enough food to see us all through the winter. Sanna wanted to come work the bag line. We left my half of the farm in my brother's care and keeping, and came here. Sanna went to work on the bag line until I got on at the mill. We were only going to stay through the winter. Now it looks like we will never go back except to visit."
The barmaid kept the beers coming right up to the time they left for three hours. When they came back after offloading and loading a boat, she kept the beers coming until she decided they had had enough and cut them off.
The next day the two of them showed up at work with hangovers. The foreman looked at them and nodded. He pulled them off of their regular job and sent them to sand and wax bowls. It was a boring, miserable, job which was sometimes used as punishment. Or you might end up on the detail if your partner didn't show up. But, in this case, it was easier to check on the work when it was done than to risk having someone hurt around the powered machinery.
****
The seasons changed yet again. One Saturday Kaapo said, "Sanna wants you to come to Sunday dinner tomorrow."
"She does? Is she playing matchmaker again?" Ari asked.
"I think the word is 'still.' Yeah, she will have a bag girl there to balance the table. But the real reason is she's pregnant and she wants you to stand godfather to the child."
Ari got quiet. "Yes, I can do that."
"Well, she wants to ask you so I didn't tell you about it. Okay?"
"Yes."
****
When dinner was over Ari offered to walk Anna, the bag girl friend of Sanna's who was there to balance the table, back to the dorms.
"Well, that's a first," Kaapo said. "Ari never walked home with any of the other girls you set him up with. Maybe, after what-four or five tries-just maybe you got it right this time."
"Kaapo, I gave up. Anna is completely wrong for Ari. I just invited her to dinner because she is a friend."
"Well, it looks like he likes your friend."
****
The next day, when the tool head bit the wood and started to eat its way to the end, Kaapo, asked Ari, “How did the walk to the dorms go?”