Helsinki Sunrise (10 page)

But unless Eveliina's heart turned back to God,
she
wouldn't be good for Adam. And until she made that change, they had no future together.

Adam fluffed his pillow and sank down hard into it. Tomorrow, over the paint tins, he'd tell her how he felt. Then he'd tell her how Jesus felt.

 

 

 

 

11

 

Eveliina dipped her roller in the paint tray again. She'd wanted to talk to Adam last night about his note in the laptop, about what he'd left unsaid on the jetty before Joel's call interrupted. Adam finding out about her relationship with Joel had soured the evening. He went to bed shortly after.

She lifted the roller carefully and placed it against the faded wood. Plank for plank, the cottage slowly turned a deep red. She glanced at Adam out of the corner of her eye. He had painted four wooden planks to her one. It wasn't that she was naturally slow at this—Adam was a distraction. His arm muscles rippled as he moved the roller up and down. She could watch him work all day.

Determined to break the awkward silence, she asked, “Do you work out, Adam?”

“No. Why?”

The innocence with which he asked convinced Eveliina that Adam was clueless to his physical appeal.

She reached out and touched his upper arm, leaving a streak of paint on his skin. “You're just…how do you say?—well-molded.”

He stared at her, his face solemn. “Are you calling me a fungi?”

“No…” Eveliina let out a nervous laugh. Was Adam messing with her?

“You don't think I'm a fun guy?” Confused, she looked for a softening in his features.

He remained serious.

“You're well-shaped, that's all,” she retorted.

His sober look yielded to a wide grin, and that sparkle in his eyes. “Comes from building houses in Africa.”

“Oh you…you just wanted me to say it again, didn't you?” She flicked her roller at Adam. Red splashed over his chest and arm.

He looked at his splattered body, then at Eveliina. She was in trouble. Dressed in painting clothes, she was fortunately prepared. She hurriedly charged her roller with paint, but when she looked up, it was into Adam's roller as it brushed across the side of her face.

Deciding a roller would take too long to exact her revenge—and Adam could easily disarm her—Eveliina dipped her hands into the paint tray. This was war. She attacked, smearing her hands over Adam's chest and face. They'd emerge from this battle like wounded soldiers.

Finally, as their laughter subsided and they both caught their breath, Adam cautioned, “If we don't stop playing around now, we won't have enough paint to finish the job. I'm anxious to get done so we can relax…and talk.”

He wanted to talk? What were they waiting for?

She grinned at Adam. “Let's wash off in the lake. We can relax and talk there.” Maybe he'd finally open up to what he'd wanted to say yesterday on the jetty—she was beginning to wonder if he ever would. But he'd said another day, and the missionary cannot lie. He'd feel better once he got it off his chest. She had a hunch they both knew that.

“Another time. We need to finish. Seems a storm's coming.”

Eveliina had been so busy eyeing Adam, and finger painting him, she hadn't seen the dark clouds roll in. She picked up her pace, anxious to hear what Adam had to say, and to beat the storm. Adam was still faster—his arms were longer and more powerful.

There was less than half a side left to paint, when the storm struck. Fortunately, they'd painted from the bottom of the cottage upward, so the eaves kept the unpainted portion dry.

“You go inside. I'll finish up.” Adam moved the ladder along, his feet sinking in the soft mud.

“Let me help. We'll get done faster.” Her words still hung in the air, when her phone rang inside. She ignored it.

“Go. Answer it.”

Eveliina nodded.

“And mind that rock.”

She hopped over the large stone, camouflaged by water and mud, and raced up the stairs, slipping across the wet deck.

Eveliina closed the door behind her and stood for a moment dripping on a mat at the doorway. She looked at her wet hands, unsure if she should answer her phone. Should she dry them first? When the ringing stopped, Eveliina took that as her cue. She grabbed the small towel that hung on a hook near the door and wiped the rain from her arms, face and legs, before making her way across to the dining room table where her phone lay. She glanced at the missed call on the screen.

Joel.

What did he want? He called yesterday. Now he was calling today. Was this to become a daily occurrence?

She was about to walk to the kitchen to wash the paint from her hands when the ringing started again. Eveliina snatched up the phone, thankful the paint had dried on her skin.

“What? More work?”

“Hello to you, too, my
pupu
.”

Eveliina hated Joel calling her his bunny as much as she hated him tucking her hair behind her ears. She hadn't minded when Adam had done the same thing, though. In fact, she loved the way his hand had brushed across her cheek before tucking the strands behind her ear. She'd left it like that until her hair came loose when, covered in blueberry juice, she'd plunged into the lake.

She softened her tone. “What do you need this time, Joel? I'm in the middle of something.”

“Eveliina, what's going on? You were in the middle of something yesterday, too, when I called.”

“Maybe you're calling too much, Joel.”

“I'm going to ignore what you said, only because I know how much stress you've been under and that you're probably still trying to unwind.”

She was trying to unwind all right—out of so many things that bound her, starting with Joel. Eveliina was trying to think of a good comeback, when she heard a dull thud. She turned in the direction of the sound and peered outside.

Adam lay unmoving in the mud. Silver tracks disappeared into the wet earth beside him. The ladder.

She threw her phone on the table and ran for the door, nearly falling as she descended the wet stairs outside. Her scream echoed in the still surrounds.

“Adam!”

Not caring about the mud and the rain, Eveliina knelt beside Adam. A pool of blood had already formed between his face and the rock. His arm lay at a strange angle.

She leaned over Adam. He was still breathing. “Oh God, don't let him die.”

Tears and rain mingled, soaking her face. “You're going to be OK,” she whispered before rushing back inside, not caring about the muddy footprints. She snatched up her cellphone. Joel was still connected.

Eveliina cut the call, and with trembling hands, dialed 112 as she hurried back to Adam.

“112. What's the address of your emergency?” The Emergency Response Center operator's voice was calm.

Eveliina couldn't respond in the same manner.

“I'm at my summer cottage on an island on Lake Sahajärvi, Uusipelto, Espoo, Helsinki.” She wanted to make sure they knew exactly where she was located so they could find her and get Adam medical attention as fast as possible. “There's no boat on the other side.” The statement was more a horrific realization, than information for the ERC.

“I have your location and number on my system. Who am I speaking with?”

“Eveliina Mikkola.”

“Eveliina, I'm Helka, and I'm going to help you. What is your emergency?”

“A—Adam, he's fallen off the ladder.” Her voice faltered and she began to cry. “He's in the mud…it's raining.”

“Is he conscious?”

Eveliina's voice trembled. “No.”

“Is he breathing?”

“Yes. Yes, he's still breathing.”

“Can you see any visible injuries? Any bleeding?”

“He's lying in a—” Her voice caught in her throat.

“Just take a deep breath, Eveliina, and tell me what you see.”

“He's lying in a pool of blood. There's a lot of blood…” Sobs racked her body. She quickly stilled them knowing time was of the essence. “His arm— it's bent awkwardly.”

“Eveliina, without moving him, can you see where he's bleeding from?”

Eveliina leaned in to Adam. From further away, the wound was hidden by his dark hair, the mud and the rain. Up close she couldn't miss the movement of blood from the wound on the side of his head.

She took another long breath, exhaling slowly. It helped. “He has a gash on the side of his head, about two inches long. It's bleeding heavily.”

“Do you have a clean cloth you can press on the wound?”

She looked at her shirt. It was filthy with mud and paint.

“I'll get one.” Eveliina was already halfway up the stairs before the operator spoke again.

“Fetch a few in case the blood soaks through.”

“OK…”

“Don't give him anything to eat or drink if he wakes up.”

“He's on a fast.” Could that have been why Adam fell? Had he overexerted himself on too little sustenance? Or had he slipped with his wet, muddy feet? If only Joel hadn't called, she would have been outside with Adam.

“Do you know how long he's been fasting?”

“A week today. No food, only water.”

“OK. Eveliina, get a blanket and cover the patient. Don't move him. I've already dispatched a helicopter. They'll be there within seven minutes.”

Eveliina started to cry again. She tried to curb her tears, to remain calm, but inside and out she shook like jelly. She stuffed a handful of dishtowels down her blouse and grabbed a blanket out of the cupboard beside the daybed on her way out.

“I'm nearly back with Adam. Tell me what I need to do.”

“Cover him with the blanket. Then press one of the clean cloths against the wound. Be careful not to move his head. If the blood soaks through the cloth, do not remove it. Place another cloth over the first one.”

“OK…” She wiped the tears and rain from her eyes so she could see what she was doing. “It's OK,” she whispered to Adam. “You're going to be OK. Help is on the way.”

“Is he still unconscious?”

“Yes.”

“I'm going to stay on the line with you, Eveliina, until the helicopter arrives.”

How would she have coped without the soothing voice of this woman?

“There's nowhere for them to land. And there's no boat on the mainland.”

“They will hoist paramedics down to assess and prepare the patient for medevac. It shouldn't be much longer.”

In the distance, Eveliina heard the helicopter. Moments later she saw the red machine coming closer. As it hovered above her, she saw a white cross painted between two words on the side of the helicopter—Medi-Heli. How it reminded her of Adam's T-shirt and her desperate need for a lifesaver right now.

“They're here.” Eveliina spoke more to Adam than to Helka.

“I'm going to put the phone down now, Eveliina. The paramedics will take over.”

“Thank you.” Her whispered words were inadequate to describe her gratitude to Helka, whose calmness had carried Eveliina through a nightmare she feared had only begun.

Eveliina pushed a clean cloth on top of the one stained red. She leaned forward—her wet lips kissed Adam's face. “Wake up, Adam.”

He remained motionless. Even though he couldn't see, she still attempted a smile. It crumbled beneath the weight of her fear. All she could do with the tears was allow them to fall on Adam. They couldn't make him any wetter.

“I was right. Not even a helicopter can wake you.”

She raised her gaze as a paramedic descended through the air. A basket stretcher lowered beside him. She looked past the red-suited man, white helmet covering his head, toward heaven.

“Don't let him die here in the mud. I'll do anything You ask, just save him.”

 

****

 

“What happened here?” Shock etched the paramedic's face. “Are you all right? Who did this to you?”

Only then did Eveliina realize that both she and Adam looked like they'd fought with a lawnmower and lost.

She shook her head. “It's just paint. Please, you have to help Adam. He fell from the ladder and hit his head on that rock. He's been like that since it happened.” Her body shook—from cold, from shock.

“Don't worry, Miss. We'll take good care of him. Why don't you change into something dry and wait inside.”

“No. I need to be here with him.”

While the first paramedic assessed Adam—airway, pulse, blood pressure—and tended his wounds, a second was lowered from the helicopter.

Adam remained unconscious.

The paramedics worked on him, all the while relaying information through their helmet mics, tossing terminology back and forth that she didn't understand. Some she did. ‘Suspected broken left arm', ‘grade three concussion', ‘two inch laceration, left side of head', ‘traumatic brain injury', ‘non-responsive', ‘unequal pupil size', ‘CT scan', ‘neurosurgeon'.

It made her afraid.

After bracing his neck and sliding a backboard beneath Adam, the paramedics lifted him into the basket stretcher and strapped him in.

With final instructions relayed, the basket was slowly raised into the air.

“Where are you taking him?” Eveliina shouted above the noise of the blades as she watched Adam's prostrate form get smaller.

“Meilahti Tower Hospital, Helsinki.”

Close to home.

“Please, take me with you.” She was desperate not to let Adam out of her sight.

“I'm sorry, Miss, but you'll have to follow in your car.”

 

****

 

As soon as the helicopter swallowed the stretcher, Eveliina dashed inside, leaving the paramedics waiting to return to the helicopter.

She shoved a dry set of clothes and shoes into a small bag, and her car keys and cellphone into her shorts' pocket. As she hurried past the daybed, her foot collided with something, sending it skidding across the floor.