Early in “Stepping on Fingers,” Lea is surrounded by her two minders as their train stops at the Russian-Finnish border:
“As Lea listened intently to the Russian border guards clomping slowly toward them through the next carriage, Willy snuggled against her in an almost friendly way, both hands clasping her left arm. By design, to limit her ability to strike out, or simply seeking some warmth and human contact? Lea couldn’t be sure. Then the curly-haired young man mumbled faintly in his sleep. His right hand dropped onto Lea’s upper thigh, caressing it lovingly. A carefully contrived grope or an innocent accident? She couldn’t be sure. But she gently pushed it aside anyway, trying to focus all of her attention on what might lie just on the other side of the compartment door.
Clumsy fumbling at the train car’s forward door latch interrupted Lea’s feverish review of her options.
“Documents” a beetle-browed Mongolian bellowed in stilted Russian from deep beneath his high-peaked, brown officer’s cap, leathery palm outstretched as he slid open the door of Lea and her captors’ compartment.
As he leaned over the British family across the aisle, Lea retrieved a counterfeit Canadian passport from an inside pocket of her parka and let it drop unopened into her lap. Thrasher’s good eye opened just a crack as his vise grip on Lea’s right elbow tightened, fueling her fear of being caught with forged papers. The Asian turned toward her, as if suspecting something was amiss, his hand now under her very nose.
“Canadian, eh? Poorer than Americans!” he sniffed, perhaps reconciling himself to a certain loss of monetary opportunity.
“Wake up! Passport control!” he shouted, kicking Willy sharply under the arch of his worn, soft felt boots. Rudely jarred from his slumber, the young man looked about sleepily, rubbing his bloodshot eyes while fumbling in a concealed vest pocket for something to show. Although the border guard’s attention was focused on Willy, Lea could feel Thrasher tensely coiled beside her, waiting to strike. She seized the passport between the thumb and index finger of her right hand and began flipping it absently, like a playing card.
Lea felt the guard staring at her and looked quickly toward him. Without saying anything, he seemed to be asking her a question. She paused for a second and then quietly extended her left hand forward, palm upward. Then Lea touched the center of her open left palm in smooth movement with her right index finger and watched for the border guard’s reaction.
He smiled politely and grabbed his comrade roughly by the elbow, pulling him toward to next half-open door leading into the next compartment.
“We’re done in here. Come along!”
Once the compartment door had slammed shut, Thrasher cleared his throat and whispered in Lea’s ear: “what was that all about?”
“What do you mean?”
“How did you make him go away without looking at our papers?”
“You mean when I touched my palm?”
@https://en.wikipedia.org › wiki › Vainikkala@
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