Mara

by Mara (v5. 0) (epub)

  ‘Come along. Now.’

  His hand had taken mine and I had obediently followed him. I had looked up to him, smiling. My new father was going to bring me to a new life. He would care for us, and Mother would no longer be sad and full of grieve because my real father was dead.

  Vlissingen. It was as if memories of happier days had been waiting here for me all these years. As if the water was an invisible barrier between here and there, between the past and the present. As soon as we sailed into the harbour I could hear the shrill shriek of a seagull and I looked up. I wanted to be as free as that bird. Maybe this was my chance. The corners of my mouth curled into a smile and I moved my tongue, ready to shriek just like that seagull. Then I noticed Pieters watching me and I contained myself. I walked back to the centre of the deck. My suitcases were still there and I picked them up. With my luggage in hand I watched how Pieters maneuvered the cutter to the quayside.

  The minister had refused to arrange for a chaperone. He had also forbidden my mother to travel with me and she had accepted that.

  ‘Your daughter will manage just fine, whichever way.’

  Mother had nodded with her lips tightly closed. I could not only see, but also feel the anger that for weeks now had been wrapped around her like a cloak. At first I had asked her about it.

  ‘You make me angry, Maria.’

  ‘But Mother…’

  ‘No, Maria, enough has been said…’ her voice faltered as she turned away from me. Her shoulders square in rejection.

  After that I had tried to sooth her with my actions. I performed every task without complaint. I looked for extra chores and brought home some candy as a treat, paid for with my own savings. All I hoped for was her arm around me, but she dispelled that hope so lightly.

  ‘Don’t bother, Maria.’

  In the end I stopped looking at her with hopeful expectation, for I couldn’t expect anything from her anymore.

  ‘That’s where ya have to be, Maria!’ Pieters walked over and stood beside me. He shouted, even though he stood close to me, and he pointed at the other side of a busy street.

  ‘That building there. Will ya need help?’

  I shook my head. I knew that he wanted to drop me off as soon as possible, so he would be able to continue and make the most of his workday. He kindly helped me with my suitcases, and he placed them on the quayside for me.

  ‘Thank you very much, Pieters.’ I shook his hand, slung the strap of the bag over my shoulder, took the two suitcases in my hands and started to walk.

  The building I headed for was large and tall. From the outside it looked regal, with ornamental relief, a small tower, and stained glass windows. I could hardly believe I would be allowed to just walk in.

  I chose the middle one of three tall entrance doors, and I followed other travelers, who all purposefully found their way. To the left and to the right I saw waiting areas, and I saw a sign that pointed out the royal waiting area. Not a place for me. I ended up at a ticket booth by simply following the travelers ahead of me. I kept a little distance and put the suitcases down beside me on the floor.

  I pulled the travel bag off my shoulder and unfastened the button, all the while trying to stay calm and look like a seasoned traveler. But my breath came fast and my fingers trembled when I took hold of the notebook in which I had written all the details of my journey. I had borrowed the grocer’s train timetable and had carefully copied everything, down to the abbreviation of each station’s name. That is how afraid I was to end up in the wrong place. I quickly found the right page and checked the list of train station, which I actually knew by heart by now. All I had to do was buy a train ticket. How hard could this be?

  I slapped the notebook shut and put it back into my bag. Then I lifted up my suitcases and joined the line-up.

  Most of the people ahead of me, I thought, were working class, judging by their clothing. They were clearly used to traveling, casually chatting amongst themselves while the line slowly moved up. Behind me new passengers joined the line. They also seemed to enjoy themselves just fine.

  Each time another person’s turn came up, I would pick up my suitcases, move one single step closer toward the ticket booth, and place the suitcases back down, one on either side of me. Bend, lift, step, put back down. Simple movements, but my fingers trembled more and more, and I started to transpire as I came closer and closer to the ticket booth.

  The Reverend had given me enough money, but not for my sake. It was all for the sake of appearances. Auntie was not to think that I had been sent away uncared for.

  ‘You will buy yourself a second class ticket.’

  I had nodded my head. Of course, appearances were worth a lot. I would be traveling second class, and if possible even in a women’s-only car. Although, the grocer had told me that they didn’t always have those anymore.

  Finally it was my turn.

  The man at the booth yawned good and long behind his hand and he blinked his eyes a number of times.

  ‘Good morning Miss, how can I help you.’

  ‘I would like to buy a train ticket.’

  ‘I figured that. Where to?’

  ‘To Velp, sir.’

  ‘What class?’

  ‘Second class, please.’

  The man pulled a green pad of paper toward him and he started to write quickly. He looked up for a minute.

  ‘One passenger?’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  He lay down his pen and put a stamp on the paper.

  ‘That will be seven guilders and fifty five cents, Miss.’

  I took my little wallet from the bag and fumbled in the coin compartment. I was looking for three two-and-a-half guilder coins and a ten cent piece to give to the man, but I let the ten cent coin slip and it rolled onto the floor. I bent down to pick it up, but I could not get a grip on the smooth round coin. I imagined that the people behind me would come forward and walk around me. Someone would take my place at the booth.

  Finally I got a hold of the coin and I stood up. The people behind me were still patiently waiting and I paid the clerk.

  ‘There you are, sir.’ I knew my cheeks were flaming red and I felt a drop of sweat on my nose. I quickly put the money in the container on the ticket counter, then wiped my nose with my sleeve.

  The man put my train ticket in a similar container on his side. Then he gave the contraption a twist and I got my ticket and he got the money. After another twist I got my change.

  ‘Could you tell me where I should go, sir?’ I leaned slightly closer to get his attention, since by now already he was looking over my shoulder for the next passenger.

  He pointed briefly with his hand, then waved me on.

  ‘Platform two, can’t miss it. Next!’

  Without a word of thanks I stepped back, and first placed my wallet and ticket in my bag. Then I looked around me. There were several groups of passengers all moving in different directions. I grabbed my suitcases and returned into the hall that I had crossed earlier on. I looked around me, searching, until I found the sign that I had noticed on my way in.

  Platform two. An arrow pointed me into the right direction and I saw on the clock beside the sign, that I had plenty of time. Nevertheless, I walked as quickly as I could to the platform. Better to be early than late.

  ‘Ticket, Miss.’

  A man stopped me before I could enter the platform and he stretched his hand out toward me. I looked at him, not understanding, until I noticed the ticket punch in his other hand. I quickly found my ticket and handed it to him.

  ‘Here you are.’ My voice trembled. I looked left when I heard a warning whistle, a short sound followed by a longer one. Then I saw a train slowly roll into the station accompanied by a lot of hissing and smoke. If that was my train I had to hurry.

  I looked back at the man who calmly took the train ticket and punched a hole in it with his ticket punch. Everything went slowly. With his thumb he pointed back over his shoulder toward the train which stood still by
now. Then he returned the ticket to me. I quickly folded it in half and stuffed it into my wallet. Once again I grabbed my luggage and I walked onto the platform, struggling with the shoulder bag that almost slipped off, and the two suitcases that kept bumping into my legs, hindering me in my clumsy walk toward the train.

  On the platform I let a porter help me and I watched how he dragged the suitcases to the baggage car. The smell of oil and soot, blown onto the platform with the train’s arrival, made me nauseous and I was relieved that someone else took my luggage so I didn’t need to carry them anymore. I gratefully gave the porter a good tip and he in turn kindly pointed me to the right passenger car.

  ‘If you look for a seat now, you will probably still find one by a window.’

  He touched his hat and disappeared, in search of a new passenger.

  I decided to follow his advice and got on the passenger car he had pointed out. In the first empty car I looked for a window seat. Exhausted, I slumped down with the bag still hanging off my shoulder. I closed my eyes and breathed deeply in and out.

  Then I pulled the bag onto my lap.

  I realized I was exhausted, drained.

  In my mind’s eye I saw my mother’s face and his. The two of them together, like a cold and impenetrable front. Again I wondered to myself what had happened to the woman my mother once had been. When had he consumed all her spirit and snuffed out the light in her eyes? Had he done that?

  At first, when we had just moved into the manse, my mother had been just like I always knew her. We went exploring together through the spacious house and I helped her keeping the rooms clean. When we were finished with our work, she would prepare tea and we would have a cup of tea together. On a rug on the floor sometimes, in one of the rooms of our new home. We’d be having a picnic, Mother would say, and we would pretend we were outside, in one of the fields surrounding the farm.

  ‘We’ll invite Auntie Be and Grandma for a visit,’ she told me. That same evening she suggested it to the Reverend. I stood beside her and squeezed my hands in excitement. Full of expectation I smiled up at the man in black, who was my new father, and I listened while my mother offered her suggestion.

  ‘No.’

  The answer was short and clear. It left no room for questions, doubt or hope. I looked at my mother, expecting her to try once more, but she gave me a sad smile and shook her head.

  I missed Grandma and Auntie Be, and Mother missed them too. I knew that, because she had told me, but she never talked about it again in the Reverend’s presence, and I also kept quiet about it. When word arrived that Grandma had died, Mother cried for many long days, but we did not make the journey to her funeral. Mother turned pale and quiet, and I silently looked on.

  3

  ‘May I sit here, my dear?’

  I flinched and opened my eyes to find myself face to face with an old nun.

  No, I’d rather you didn’t. ‘Yes, of course.’ I moved over a little and pulled back the shoulder bag, which was about to slip off my lap.

  ‘Would you like the window seat?’ I asked to be polite.

  ‘No, no, I’m quite alright here.’ She let herself drop on the seat beside me and groaned a bit as her joints protested.

  ‘Old and falling apart.’ She laughed as she looked at me, but I just held on to my bag tighter and moved another half an inch closer to the window.

  ‘I’m Sister Olivia.’ My hope for a peaceful train ride dissipated when she offered me her hand. Carefully I took her old hand in mine, and before I could remove my hand, I could feel the brittle bones move under my fingers.

  ‘Maria Klomp.’ I was silent again and looked outside where it was awfully busy now. Not much time could have passed between the moment I got on the train and when I dozed off, but there were noticeably more people now. It was as if everyone had been hiding away in little holes for the right moment to appear.

  When finally the train departed, I watched, with dry eyes, how Vlissingen station disappeared. I did not waste any thoughts on my own village, family, or the villagers. It was bad enough that I would have to carry that part of my life around with me the months ahead. I felt cursed, and I quietly cursed my past. Maybe after doing that I would be able to bury and forget.

  ‘So, where are you going to, if I may ask?’ The old nun again. Couldn’t she go sit somewhere else?

  I quickly told her that I had a long journey to make, all the way to Velp. To my amazement she smiled joyfully as I spoke.

  ‘How wonderful, my dear. Our Dear Lord must have put you in my path. I am on my way to Velp, as well. We can travel together. O, how wonderful! I really dislike traveling you know.’ Her wrinkles folded and unfolded while she spoke, and a few white hairs on her chin moved up and down.

  ‘I seriously doubt that your Dear Lord had anything to do with that,’ I said sullenly. I did not at all like the idea that God would still concern himself with my life, and the words slipped out of my mouth before I could stop them.

  ‘Oh.’ She was quiet and did not ask anymore, but instead she took her rosary and started to mumble softly.

  I felt ashamed of what I had said, and I looked out of the window at the passing scenery. The silence I had wanted so badly was now no longer pleasant, as I was responsible for it because of my harsh words. After a few minutes, I could no longer hold back an apology.

  ‘I am sorry, Sister Olivia. I should not have said that.’ If I had felt free to do so, I would have explained to her why I did not believe that her Dear Lord had anything to do with it. I remained silent however, for I knew she would not be interested in hearing my explanations. Mother always said that an excuse consisted of the excuse, not an explanation.

  The old nun smiled at me and she placed her hand gently on mine. I immediately wanted to pull my hand back, but I held back and merely made a fist of my hand.

  ‘It’s all right. We won’t talk about it anymore, good?

  Thankfully, she removed her hand when I nodded in response. I wiped my hand on my skirt and then hid my hands in the pockets of my cloak. Safe underneath the fabric they were untouchable.

  The train jerked slightly. It made me jostle in my seat and I brushed her shoulder when she moved as well. The train started to slow down and once again I heard the shrieking whistle. I quickly looked out the window, curious to find out what was going on, but I saw nothing but a thick cloud of steam floating along beside us.

  ‘It will be a while yet before we stop. The train starts to slow down at least ten minutes ahead of time. You can easily sit back for a while yet. Middelburg is quite a nice city. Do you know it?’

  I shook my head. ‘No, I have never been far from home.’

  ‘And what about this big journey you’re undertaking now? You are brave, Maria Klomp.’ The nun clasped her hands together in her lap. ‘I’ve never enjoyed traveling much myself. The only reason I’m on this journey is because a good friend of mine needs me.’ She winked at me, and I smiled vaguely at her. I have never been able to wink and every time I’ve tried to I was laughed at, so years ago I decided to respond to winks with a smile.

  ‘What brings you so far from home, Maria?’

  I wanted to say something in response, but didn’t know what. I was still thinking about it when a sudden wave of nausea came over me. Terrified I looked around me, not knowing what to do.

  ‘Are you all right, my dear?’ With a concerned expression the nun sat up and patted me lightly on the back. ‘Travel sickness, of course. Some people have that.’ She stood and reached over me to open the window. ‘Some fresh air will do you good.’

  I nodded, but knew it wasn’t true. I had simply forgotten to have a bite to eat and now my empty stomach was protesting.

  Sister Olivia sat down again with creaking knees and a light moan. I raised my head toward the window, trying to catch as much fresh air as possible in the hope it would help. I breathed in and out slowly and deeply. After a few moments the horrible feeling seemed to fade and I quickly searched in my bag for a
sandwich. The first bite was horrible, as usual, but I knew I would be feeling better soon if I had some food in me.

  I had completely forgotten about the nun, when she started to speak again.

  ‘I was wrong, apparently.’

  With the napkin that I had brought along, I wiped the breadcrumbs from my mouth. I had no idea what she meant and looked at her expectantly.

  ‘My conclusion, travel sickness,’ she clarified. ‘For you are after all…’

  Suddenly she stopped, looked me in the eyes, then glanced at my stomach, then my ring finger on the left hand. When she found nothing there, she checked the ring finger on my right hand.

  ‘I’m sorry, I’m talking way too much again, so silly.’ She swallowed with difficulty. ‘Of course it is travel sickness that’s bothering you.’ Her sparkling eyes turned dull and she avoided my eyes.

  This stranger’s confusion somehow reminded me of how my mother had turned away from me. All of a sudden I wanted to talk, explain, beg for understanding. But of course I kept my lips sealed and again I looked out the window. I could see a few houses now and I could feel the train slowing down more and more. Finally it stopped at a station that was less imposing to me than the earlier station in Vlissingen, even though the building was large. There were no impressive ornaments, frames or decorations here.

  But the nun did not remain silent. She brushed my sleeve and said ‘Don’t worry about it, my dear. Don’t mind this silly old nun. It’s the greatest curse of my life that I’ve never learned to tame my tongue. The holy apostle St. James says it so beautifully in his letter and I have tried so often to do something about it…’ She was quiet for a moment and seemed lost in thought. ‘Please forgive me for jumping to the wrong conclusion.’

  She was silent now and I realized that she expected a response from me, the loose, pregnant, unmarried young woman. I swallowed and wanted to reply, but no sound wanted to pass my lips. In the end I managed to produce a light whisper.

  ‘That’s good.’

  My mother would have smacked me on the back of my head, had she heard me speak that way. It was rude, and could barely pass for an acceptance of apology, but Sister Olivia visibly relaxed and crossed herself. Then she looked heavenward and muttered a thankful prayer. She picked up her rosary again and mumbled to herself.