The villagers stood up and began cheering at the sudden change in fortunes. A moment before they had been cowering in the dirt, now they stood tall and shook their fists at the tower of flames burning in the forest. Hale, exhausted by what had just transpired, sank to his knees.
Nea’s warm arms wrapping around him, barely registered in his mind as a fog of numbness descended upon him, “Hale you’re a hero, you saved the village!” Nea shouted in excitement.
Seeing the smiling face of the woman he loved, the mother of his child, Hale snapped out of his state and smiled faintly, “Hale what’s wrong? Are you hurt?” Asked the worried voice of his mother.
As Nea helped Hale to his feet he said, “I’m just tired mom, really tired.”
“Let’s get you home then. You’ll feel better with a warm meal and some rest.” Jenna, his mom said.
The family climbed back into the sleigh, as Raynar worked to fasten Liv back to the sleigh’s yoke. Nea, led Hale by the hand, and helped to get him into the sleigh. His mother, picked up his rifle, the rifle that they had given him for his thirteenth birthday. The weapon he had just used to kill a man. Overcome by what had happened to her boy, and what had happened to her people she began to weep.
Raynar, noticing his wife’s distress asked, “Jeanna, what’s wrong? Are you hurt?”
“Our innocent boy has become a killer of men.” Jenna replied, “Soon he will be forced to go back to the front and fight. He might not come back! And God willing he survives, he won’t be our boy anymore.” Overcome by her grief she sobbed before adding, “I want our family back.”
Raynar wrapped his arms around Jenna and held her as she cried, “It will be ok honey. We taught our boy well. He’s smart, and resourceful. He’ll come back home to us.”
Jenna looked up into the kind eyes of her husband and nodded slowly. She pulled out a handkerchief to wipe her nose, the mucus was already freezing to her skin and nodded slowly, “I hope you’re right. I pray that you are right.”
Hale fell asleep in Nea’s arms as the Karhonen family’s sleigh made its way over the frozen lands of southern Finland toward their home. Hale was woken with a kiss from Nea when they arrived. It was dark, “Aina can you bring some firewood in so your mom can start the stove?” Raynar asked.
“Yes father.” Hale’s sister replied.
“I’ll get some soup started while your father puts Liv away in the barn.” Jenna said.
“I can help father with Liv.” Hale said.
“Nonsense. You’re hurt and exhausted. You are going to bed young man. I’ll wake you when the food is ready.” Jenna said.
Hale turned to Nea and said, “We’ll you stay with me love?”
Nea shook her head, “No, I’ve got to go tell my parents the exciting news about the wedding tomorrow and get a dress ready. You rest now and recover your strength. You’ll need it tomorrow night.” Nea winked as she said the last few words.
Overhearing the exchange between his son and Nea, Raynar coughed loudly. Nea’s cheeks turned a deep crimson as she realized that Hale’s father had overheard her, “I’ll see you tomorrow then.” Hale said.
“Yes, the next time you see me, we’ll be getting married!” Nea exclaimed excitedly.
The young couple embraced and kissed, “Be careful in the woods going home.” Hale said.
“No worries love. The forest is my home.” Nea replied as a wolf howled. The couple held hands and listened to the long and mournful bay of the predator.
Hale quickly found his way to his old bedroom and collapsed on the bed in exhaustion. He didn’t bother to take any of his clothing off, and he was asleep a moment after his head hit the pillow. He slept for a few hours until he was awoken to join the family for dinner.
The family quickly fell into old patters of familiarity as they sat around the kitchen table enjoying a meal together for the first time in months. After the meal, as Jenna and Aina worked to clean up. Raynar led Hale into his study. He poured each of them a drink and then raised his glass in a toast, “To my boy Hale. A hero of Finland.”
Hale raised his glass of port and gently taped it against his father’s, “I wouldn’t know about that hero nonsense. I’m just trying to survive and keep my country safe.”
“Boy.” Hale’s father paused for a moment, “I can’t call you that anymore. You proved that to me today. Hale, what I witnessed today was an act of unspeakable bravery. You intentionally put yourself in danger, and stood your ground while you lined up that shot. It was the damnedest thing I had ever seen. You saved lives today.”
Hale opened his mouth to interrupt the praise from his father. The older Karhonen held up his hand and said, “Let me finish. I raised you to be a good hunter. Trained you how to shoot, but what I witnessed today was just incredible. How did you make that shot?”
Father, I’ve found that it doesn’t really matter whether the enemy is standing still, moving, man, or beast. The techniques you taught me as a boy work. Hold your breath, line up the shot with the two iron sights, and pull the trigger. It sounds so simple but the Russians don’t seem to understand these basic principles. I just hope and pray that many of my fellow Finns had a father such as you. One that taught them to shoot in the manner that you taught me. We will need such men to kill many times their number of Russians for Finland to survive.”
The two men embraced, “Thank you son. Your praise means a lot.” Raynar said.
Raynar began to tell him of his own time in the army. How he had fought in the Finnish civil war twenty years prior. Hale enjoyed hearing his father’s stories of the civil war. The stories that he had never been told as a boy growing up in Raynar’s household.
Raynar had never shared the tale of this part of his life with anyone in the family, not even his wife. Talk of the suffering of war was only suitable between men that had experiences its horrors. Hale had become a man worthy of hearing these tales in his father’s eyes.
Despite his interest in the stories, Hale still exhausted, fell asleep in the overstuffed chair he occupied in his father’s study. As the younger Karhonen slept, the older one retrieved Hale’s rifle from his childhood bedroom and sat with it in his lap for a time. He ran his fingers over the wood grain of the stock. Closing his eyes, he remembered back to the day that he had given Hale this weapon. The memory of that delighted boy excited to have his own rifle filled Raynar’s mind and he smiled at the memory.
As Hale’s father continued to run his fingers along the wooden grain of the rifle, his mind shifted to events earlier in the day. Hale standing his ground, holding this rifle. His boy ignoring the approaching danger of the bullets and squeezing the trigger. He had never imagined that Hale would use this gift for anything other than putting food on the family’s table. How wrong he had been.
Raynar poured himself another glass of port and took a long sip. A single tear ran down his cheek as he mourned the loss of his boy. Looking up, he saw the form of his son the man, dozing in the chair across from him. Fighting back more tears, he rose quietly from the chair and fetched his gun cleaning supplies.
Over the next hour, he worked slowly to clean out the grit in the barrel. Then he oiled the metal of the exterior of the weapon, and finally, using wood oil, the stock. Next, he took each of the three magazines, and carefully removed the bullets. He cleaned and oiled them, especially the spring inside. He was determined to ensure that this weapon would never fail Hale.
Finished, Raynar leaned the rifle up against one of the two book shelves in his study. He looked up at Hale, his son’s eyes were open, “How long have you been awake?”