Call Me Igy

by

Andrew O. Leskinen

Call me Igy. My friends do. My full name is Ignacio Francisco Alejandro Jurvakainen.

I’m Finnish. 100%. I come from a long line of farmers and fishermen. When I was born my father thought it would be a great break from tradition and not name me after my ancestors. My mother didn’t know what he had done until the nurse brought in my birth certificate.

My little sister was born two months after I turned six. Up until nine months before she was born my father had slept out on the sofa on the sun porch, year around. My mother named her Anna Lisa. My father smiled again.

Two more years, twins, Oscar and Otto. My mother named them also. My father returned to sleeping on the sun porch.

One day in October my father took a Friday off from work. My Uncle, his brother, picked him up before my father had eaten his breakfast and they went into town. They returned later that afternoon. My father spent the rest of that day, all of that weekend and Monday sitting in his recliner, watching television. Now my mother smiled and got him everything he asked for.

All of us kids were forbidden from going anywhere near him during those four days, especially Oscar and Otto. They were two and loved climbing up onto my father’s lap. After four days, my father moved back into the bedroom with my mother from that day on. Our family stopped growing.

I’m Ignacio Francisco Alejandro Jurvakainen. I’m blond. I’m pale. If I’m outside, I’m burnt red by seven AM. I don’t farm. I don’t fish. Fish don’t fear me, numbers do. I’m an accountant.