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Sunday, 22 July 2007

Chapter 1 Part 5

After washing my face a second time in an effort to try and keep awake I looked in the mirror again, but that ugly person was still there. I told the mirrored reflection ‘good-bye’ before drying my hands. I made my way back to Petra’s hospital room.

I opened the door to the room. Anna was sitting beside her daughter, holding Petra’s right hand. I placed a chair on Petra’s left side so I could hold her left hand. I tried to be careful not to let Petra’s mother believe that I was trying to keep Petra all to myself. An impression of being selfish is not wanted what I wanted to portray.

Exhaustion overtook me quickly because I laid my head down beside Petra (near her pillow). I fell asleep and dreamed.

In the dream I found myself in a large white room. Petra was wearing a white dress. She walked up to me and took my hand.

'Don’t be afraid,' she said to me in Finnish.

'Not as long as you’re here with me.' I replied in English.

'Stay with me Petra,' I said to her as I took her in an embrace.

She slowly broke the embrace to place her hand on the left side of my chest.
'I am always there with you Robert. I am there in your heart,' she told me but in English this time. 'You have to be strong.'

'Robert,' a voice said from behind me. In the dream I turned around. No one was there.

'Robert!'

I woke from the dream to realize I had fallen into a deep sleep. I saw Petra’s mother holding our little baby Anna. It was Anna who had called out my name, rousing me from my slumber.

Chapter 1 Part 4

'I know you don’t approve of me. I’m not going to ask you for that approval.'

I walked over to Anna, looking at her with my worn out bloodshot eyes. I placed my hands gently on her shoulders.

'Please don’t abandon Petra and your new grandchild.'

She looked at Petra and didn’t say anything for a few moments. I wondered if my request was too much for her. Perhaps her feelings towards me would blind her feelings towards Petra and our new baby.

She paused for a few more moments then looked at me.

'Can I see the baby?' She asked.

'Of course, I’ll ask the nurse to arrange it.'

I left the room so I could speak to a nurse. I asked the nurse if it was possible to bring our baby to see her grandmother. The nurse said she would be able to do this in an hour.

Walking back to Petra’s hospital room I made a detour into the men’s toilets to wash my face. I looked at myself in the mirror with a three day old beard wondering what ugly person that is in the mirror staring back at me. I realized at that moment just how old I am as compared to Petra.

That feeling of being old passed away very quickly because my love for Petra was stronger than anything I had ever known. The passion between us was so strong that sometimes I wondered if this was in fact a dream. It was something you imagine only after watching an old romantic movie or reading a classic novel.

Chapter 1 Part 3

I walked up slowly to Anna and looked directly into her eyes. Perhaps it was best if she started the conversation. After a few seconds neither of us spoke, so I decided to say something in an attempt to diffuse the ice cold atmosphere between us.

'Thank you for coming.'

I wanted to say that in the Finnish language, but my concentration was poor due to fatigue, so I could only speak my American English at that moment.

She walked briskly past me. I thought that she would completely ignore me. She saw her daughter lying motionless on the bed with a tube in her arm. She burst into tears, spun around, and embraced me.

In Finnish she asked me several questions. I answered most of the questions in English. During moments when my concentration level peaked I answered a couple of questions in Finnish. I told her everything the doctors had told me. She then broke the embrace, wiped her eyes, and looked at me.

'How is the baby?' She asked in English as she continued to dry her eyes.

I smiled and looked back at her.

'Anna is just fine.'

'Anna?'

'Yes. We decided to name the baby Anna after you. Would you like to see the baby, your granddaughter?' I asked her.

She looked at me in a moment of disbelief and replied, 'A grandmother. I’m a grandmother?'

'Yes, you are. Right now little Anna needs you. Petra needs you,' I breathed a heavy sigh, 'and I need you too.'

She walked about a meter from me to gaze at Petra lying motionless in the hospital bed.

Chapter 1 Part 2

Chapter 1 of the Novel Finlish

I convinced myself otherwise. I brought a British novel from home that Petra had started reading a week ago. She had this habit of folding the corner of the page into a small triangle several times to mark her spot where she had stopped reading. I wondered why she had this particular habit. I wanted to ask her about this unique habit. I was angry with myself that she was unable to answer me.

Page forty six or page forty seven? I did not know on which page she stopped, so I started reading aloud to her at the top of page forty six. I apologized to her if I started on a page she had already read previously. Of course she couldn’t answer, but I pretended she could.

I was reading in the middle of page forty nine when my attention was diverted to Petra’s mother standing at the door of the room. I closed the book but before doing so tried to emulate the fold Petra made to indicate the point on the page where she stopped. I could not do it very well and made a complete mess of the page.

I decided to stand up to face Petra’s mother Anna. She was only eight years older than me.

Anna had stopped seeing Petra just before our marriage. She was in complete disapproval of our relationship and marriage from the beginning. She still was opposed to it. The opposition was not in my love for her daughter, which she knew was strong, but rather in the age difference. When we married I was nearly forty five years old. Petra was almost twenty six, nearly twenty years younger.

I had not shaved or properly bathed in three days. The sleep deprivation also made me look much older. No doubt the gray hairs on my three day beard contributed to that fact.

Saturday, 21 July 2007

Chapter 1 of the Novel Finlish

Copyright 2006 by RR Johnson Jr. No part of this writing may be used or copied without written permission of the author. EXCEPTION: Up to 500 words of a single chapter may be copied for the sole purpose of a school or college book report for non commercial purpose only. Interested publishers may send a query email to johnson_robert_roy@hotmail.com and in the subject line of the email use the words "NOVEL QUERY" without the quotes.

The novel FINLISH is a light comedy I wrote during 2006. This novel is dedicated with love and respect to P.J.. Without her this novel would never have been written.


Chapter 1 Part 1

I never realized just how frail the human body can be. A simple malfunction of a blood artery can kill, cause paralysis, or permanent damage.

Petra was lying on a hospital bed with a tube in her arm. I softly stroked her hair. Although I had touched and stroked her hair countless times; this time the touch felt different, more delicate. She was still unconscious and although the doctors called it a coma, I prefer to say that she was ‘just sleeping’.

While she slept I walked over to a small bag, searched diligently, and found her hair brush. I made my way back to her bedside. I had to be careful around the tube inserted in her arm. I brushed her hair gently and this seemed to give me some relief, or maybe it just put my mind off of thinking about my own emotional pain if only for a few moments.

The doctors were optimistic. They believed she would wake up, but they could not tell me when she might wake up.

I had not slept for three days, as that was when her coma first started. I refused to leave the hospital believing my presence would aid her in some way.

My daily meals since the start of Petra's coma evolved around whatever the hospital cafeteria was serving. In the hospital cafeteria there seems to be an abundance of fish meals being served. Normally this would be great, but I wasn’t particularly hungry, especially for fish.

Luckily a nurse took pity on me and made me a small bowl of chicken soup near the nurses' station on the third day of Petra's coma. It was probably made from a pouch of ready to eat instant soup ingredients, but it tasted great. I thanked the nurse for the soup. I offered her some Euros for the soup as compensation, but she declined.

Afterwards while sitting at Petra’s bedside I whispered into her ear that I loved her. I felt helpless, wondering if there was anything I could do to make her respond to me. The doctors told me that only time would tell.