The news on TV last night had said that the weather for the weekend was going to be the warmest of the Finnish summer thus far. The stresses of his end of year school exams were over, and Mikael decided that he would spend some of the morning rollerblading over the quiet roads near his home and keep up his fitness in this way, just as many of his ice hockey teammates did.
His parents had wanted him to join them for a trip Into Helsinki, but he did not wish to spend so much time in the car and then traipsing around the shops; nor did he want to then spend time in a coffee shop, or having lunch somewhere. His folks always used the time to catch up on the friends they had made when the family lived in the city.
He had liked living there, but his father's work on hydro schemes, and other environmental projects, meant a home in a quiet village close to a main highway and the projects he was responsible for was a good option.
"Well, if you're sure you'll be okay here for much of the day, on your own," his mother, Jenni, had asked, "then we will get on our way. If you go out make sure you lock all the doors, won't you?"
"Yes, mother. I've been left alone here before." He had struggled to keep the exasperation from his voice.
He waited for a quarter of an hour before making ready to set off, his roller blades strapped securely onto his feet, the thick socks an added cushion from the bumps and rills he would encounter along the route. A pair of snazzy shorts with zipped pockets, a loose-fitting T-shirt and some shades were his bare necessities. A helmet was never left off, but foolishly or not, he decided to forego knee and elbow pads.
"I'll take my chances. It's not as though I haven't gone over the route before."
He saw their neighbour, Karola Nirvi, as he left the driveway that led up to the family home and waved to her. She must have come back from shopping at the store in the village; he recognised the supermarket's tell-tale bags. Her four-by-four was parked close to the house but her husband, Aleksi's, car was not to be seen.
"I'm not going to be gone for long!" he called out.
"Just you go carefully, Mikael. Your mother said you'd be here on your own!"
She waved and his look dwelt for a moment on the woman doing so. Karola had her stylish ways, and even now the slender woman was dressed in a billowy patterned blouse and black jeans, the buckles on her loafers glinting in the sunlight.
"I'll take care, and I should be okay! I won't be too long," he called back and increased his pace as he took to the undulating road through the trees and out past the neatly tended pastureland as it opened before him.
It was only ten o'clock, so he had a whole day to do just as he pleased, and if he came to any trouble, Karola would be there to nurse him or tend to whatever he needed.
He was rather glad that they were each at home and the others were out. Girlfriends were hard to keep, living out here. During the winters, that they had lived as neighbours, they had all gone skiing over the woodland paths, sampled dogsledding, or had gone skating on the deeply frozen lakes nearby. At times like that, when they helped each other through the wilderness and snow drifts, age differences did not matter.
"I'll be glad it's her if I need any help." Thoughts of the ragingly blonde-haired woman, and wondering what she would be doing that morning, aroused a not uncommon ache in his groin. His teenage hormones raged, so a wasting ride on his blades would take his mind off what he would like to do with her.
He picked up the pace, moved in easy strides as the road surface trilled under his feet. He felt liberated and whooped for joy. The summer vacation stretched out before him and was always a good time for him.
♥
The cars sped by at an alarming speed and way too close for comfort. He cursed and yelled at them.
"I've got a right to be here too, you know!"
He was on his way back, only half a klick or so from home and the road dipping into a bend when a speeding car almost clipped his arm making him wobble in the slipstream. He could only shimmy to the right as another car rushed past and, as he did so, he unavoidably went over a very rough patch and stumbled.
"Fuck you!" he yelled again as he picked himself up, the car not stopping to check if he was okay. He wasn't. "That will teach you to leave the pads off. What a mess I'm in and...and does it hurt!"
Upset, he looked down at his knees, then twisted his arms to study his elbows and was glad that he had not fractured any bones. The abrasions looked raw, and he saw grit in the wounds.
There was nothing in his pockets save a bandana to wipe over his wounds, over his grazed knees and elbows, the palm of one hand scratched, cut on a stone. Man was it sore. He sat on the gravel verge of the highway and realised he'd been very lucky not to have stumbled the other way and into the path of any other car.
He got to his feet and somewhat unsteadily rolled back home, not bothering to take off his blades as he crossed the decking at the back of the house and before he slumped down onto one of the sunchairs set around a glass-topped coffee table.
He was hot and sweaty; his clothes stuck to his body; he was till in one piece but bruised and shaken.
"At least I won't have to explain myself, just yet," he muttered as the blades were loosened, and he dumped them on the decking with a loud thump.
Karola's sing-song call was music to his ears.
"Mikael, what's the matter, are you okay...or are you hurt?" There she was, beauty and comfort made real, looking over the fence at him as he lounged back in the chair, his T-shirt soaked with perspiration and his arms and legs showing the grazes, and some blood, where he had been badly skinned.
"I fell, avoided getting hit by a car and the road surface did the rest. I'm in a right mess..."
"So, I see," she said, her voice soothing and considerate. "I'll come round so stay where you are!"
"It's okay, I'll manage..."
"No, you won't. Yor mother will wonder why I didn't help you. Just stay where you are and I'll bring something round to treat you with."
He had seen Karola peering over the fence, her large sunglasses pushed back over her hair that she had tied back with a short and colourful scarf. He'd also noticed the rounded neckline of a sun top that she was wearing. Karola was sunbathing and he had disturbed her. Still, he would see more of her and what she was wearing when she came round and acted the nurse.
He felt tearful. Everything ached and even if he was seventeen, he wanted to act the man for the lovely woman next door, especially someone as attractive as Karola. Here he was thinking and feeling something different for a woman who was more than twice his age.
She was with him in no time at all, it seemed, her flats slapping on the deck and her sun robe swirling in the breeze and revealing her thighs. Bangled bracelets rattled and clinked on her wrists, and he saw the rings on each of Karola's hands glinting in the sun whenever she brushed away her hair.
"You have taken a tumble," she consoled as she knelt by his side and he sat on the deck chair trying hard not to take in what she was wearing, or not, as her movements stretched her sun top or opened it at the neck. He could see her breasts. She had not put on a bikini bra and a necklace glinted in the sun; a bauble dangling down into her cleavage and only making him gaze at her more often.
"Don't touch the wounds, not even with that handkerchief!" She stopped him and gripped his wrist. "Your mother must have warned you to put on protective pads..."
