Mara

by Mara (v5. 0) (epub)

  After the seventh day I decided I was strong enough to get up and stay out of bed for the day. I didn’t talk to Auntie about it, but simply picked up my clothes in the morning and got dressed. Auntie was in the kitchen baking pancakes. My arrival didn’t seem to surprise her. She greeted me kindly and soon enough we sat down at breakfast together as if nothing had happened in the last week.

  The only difference was our silence.

  In the end, after reminding me three times not to tire myself out, Auntie left to do her work. I didn’t respond and just stared at her, waiting for her to leave. She left soon, but quickly returned with a book that she put on the table in front of me. Then she left for the barn and I warily picked up the book and opened it. The words just danced in front of me and wouldn’t form sentences. Where would Mara be? How could I be sitting here reading a book while I should be looking for her? I tried to figure out a way that I could find her back, as I had been trying so often these days, but every time I ended up with the same problem. Without help I wouldn’t be able to find her, and there was no one willing to help me.

  Then I heard her crying.

  With a jerk I was pulled out of my contemplations and I sat rigid in my chair. Incredulously I lowered my book slowly and stood up. I held my breath as I listened closely, wondering if I would hear the sound again.

  Yes, there it was again!

  She was near by! With relieve I started to laugh out loud, a noise that sounded very strange to my own ears. I turned around on the spot and tried to locate the origin of the crying I had heard. On my socked feet I started to walk through the kitchen. A hot burst of anger at Auntie, who had been responsible for all this, flashed through me, but it was quickly chased away by the joy I felt when I heard the crying again. It came from upstairs, I had to go up.

  With two steps at a time I ran up the stairs and I threw open my bedroom door and stood still at the threshold. No, of course, not here. Not here. I had to look in Auntie’s room. I returned to the little hall and pushed down the door handle as carefully as I could. The door creaked open and I looked inside. At once I saw that there was no cradle, no child.

  But the crying…

  I closed my eyes and concentrated again. The sound was still there, but now it seemed to be further away than before. I closed the door of Auntie’s room and slowly climbed down the stairs. Had I really been mistaken?

  Maybe she was in the front room, or in the ‘opkamer’, the little room above the cellar, or in the cellar?

  I entered the kitchen, determined to search the whole house, but Auntie was in the kitchen and looked at me with an odd look in her eyes.

  She had lied to me!

  ‘Is something the matter, Maria?’

  ‘No, nothing at all.’ My voice quivered, but I looked her straight in the eye and forced her to think that nothing had changed.

  ‘I made some tea. Come sit down.’

  Obediently I sat down. In silence we drank our tea. My anger grew and grew. Did Auntie really think she could keep this secret from me? I could hear my own child crying and she sat here beside me, drank her tea and acted as if Mara was no longer here. How could she do this to me?

  I poured my tea from the cup into the saucer so it would cool faster and I drank it as quickly as I could. Then I pulled at the little fringes of the tablecloth and quickly made little braids. Three strands entwined, four, five, six. I tried all sorts of combinations and impatiently pulled at the strings that wouldn’t stay put. Finally Auntie had finished her tea and left the kitchen. I waited a short while until I heard her wooden shoes clip-clop in the barn and then I got up to.

  The crying had stopped, but I knew what I had heard. I knew she had to be here somewhere. I first checked the front room. Nothing.

  Then I searched the ‘opkamer’. Nothing.

  The cellar next. Nothing.

  Again I went upstairs and this time I also checked underneath Auntie’s bed and also underneath my own. I pulled open the closets to look for her. Then I remembered the third door and I went to the hayloft. She could be anywhere!

  I returned to my room to get a lamp. I lit it and returned to the hayloft. I started on the left, the side where we had found the cradle, and I searched the loft yard by yard.

  But there was no child.

  Defeated, I slowly climbed down the stairs. I returned to the kitchen. Then I remembered that I hadn’t searched the attached barn. As I searched I held my breath and kept my ears alert. I had heard her, maybe I would hear her again.

  But there was nothing.

  Without hesitating any longer, I stepped into my wooden shoes and went out to look for Auntie. I found her in the garden and when I called her she looked at me with hope in her eyes and a smile at her mouth.

  ‘Where is she, Auntie?’

  Her face turned pale, and her smile disappeared.

  ‘What do you mean, Maria?’

  ‘I heard her.’

  ‘Who did you hear? What are you talking about?’

  ‘Mara is here, isn’t she? Bring me to her.’

  I went up to Auntie with large steps, my hands on my hips and ready to take her on. She couldn’t take my child from me.

  ‘Mara? My child, she isn’t…’

  ‘I heard her crying. I could hear her crying, Auntie, don’t deny it.’ I swallowed my despair and remained strong for my daughter’s sake.

  ‘You must have imagined it, there is no child here. Mien took her away.’

  ‘Don’t lie to me!’

  She shook her head, and I stamped my foot on the ground. Then I turned around. I would look for her myself, as long as it would take for me to find her. I stomped over the yard and kicked at the chickens and the dog. I threw the doors open and pulled everything out of everywhere. I searched every corner of the farm, all day.

  I found nothing.

  And at night, in bed, after a silent meal with Auntie Be, I still thought I heard her crying. From somewhere deep. I listened intently. The sound remained constant, even when I covered my ears with my hands and hid under the blanket. Then I realized that the sound was in my head. The sound was only inside my head, securely lodged inside.

  It was all I had left of her. She was gone.

  Forever gone.

  18

  Why is it that the woman I have grown to love and trust, has turned out to be a traitor? Sometimes she looks at me and her large eyes speak to me. I see regret in her eyes, but I don’t know if it is regret for what she has done, or regret for what has come of it. Our relationship has turned cold. I only speak to her when I need to. In the end she has turned out to be just like the rest of them.

  How much can a person bear? How much am I able to bear?

  After my desperate search of the farm I no longer allowed myself to be kept confined to a chair in the house, despite the pain to my body. I had decided to go back to work, and my hands worked at high speed as I scrubbed the floor of the ‘opkamer’. The soapy water turned my fingers raw and I felt a burning, piercing pain, but I ignored it. I just got myself more hot water, inflicted new pain, and I scrubbed.

  I felt a hand on my shoulder and I shook it off impatiently. I didn’t want to be touched. I wanted no contact. Leave me alone. I don’t want to talk. I don’t want to live.

  Again there was a hand on my shoulder, then two. Auntie held on to me and no matter what I did, she wouldn’t let go. The only way to free myself would be by force and I couldn’t possibly do that. Instead I scrubbed even harder and put my full weight on the brush so I could get all the grime out of even the deepest grooves. The result was quite the opposite. The bristles of the brush bent uselessly sideways with the pressure I put on them.

  ‘Get up, Maria.’

  I considered her words and wanted to ignore her again, but her hands remained on my shoulders and seemed to leave a burning impression. Finally I got up. Her hands still remained on my shoulders.

  She guided me down the steps and brought me to one of the kitchen chairs. She placed a
cup of coffee on the table in front of me and sat down, facing me.

  Instead of looking at Auntie, I looked out of the window. It had some dust on it and a few flies. I would have to wash that. I made a mental note to boil some water in a minute, lots of hot water, so the windows would gleam. Weren’t windows like the soul of a house? With clean windows, people who walked by could enjoy the welcoming warmth of the home, and people inside could look out and have contact with the people outside. Windows ought to be clean. I already moved my feet in preparation to push back my chair. The coffee stood on the table, untouched.

  But Auntie’s voice held me back.

  ‘Don’t you dare get up now, Maria!’

  She spoke the words with such authority as I had heard from her only a few times before. I relaxed my feet, and the chair stayed where it was.

  I glanced at my hands and looked closely at the red cracks, the white swollen edges of my nails, the cuts between my thumb and index finger where the skin had split and now was swollen as well. Now that I was no longer scrubbing away at the floor, little droplets of blood had a chance to dry. It was like life emerging, but congealing before it had a chance to really make a difference.

  ‘We can’t go on like this, Maria.’

  I heard a soft movement and saw in the corner of my eye how she stretched out her hand to me across the table. Another meaningless gesture. I had admired this hand before, because of its strength and patience, but this same hand had betrayed me, had taken my child and carried it off.

  I looked at the coffee that was steaming hot and patiently waiting for me on the table and I toyed with the notion of throwing it over. Would the hot liquid reach the traitorous hand and scar it? Would she keep her hand outstretched despite the pain, or would she pull her hand back?

  ‘I want you to look at me.’

  More words. Another command. Was there nothing left for me? No room, no freedom at all to make my own choices? Was I doomed to live my life tied to bonds that others controlled and tightened around me? The only difference between the Reverend and Auntie was the way they went about it. He tortured me with his power to condemn me, and she tortured me with her love that also condemned me. What good had love brought me so far?

  Only betrayal.

  ‘Look…at…me.’

  My eyes glided from the coffee cup with the flower pattern to her hand, still lying there with the palm facing upward, vulnerable. From her hand I slowly looked up her arm, her neck, her chin. I took care not to meet her eyes.

  ‘Look at me, Maria.’

  She still wasn’t satisfied. It was never enough.

  Again my legs moved underneath my chair, I pushed off and stood up. I moved so sudden that the coffee spilled over the cup into the saucer.

  My soapy water was cold by now, but I would prepare new water. I had to scrub the floor and after that wash the windows. I didn’t have time to chat. I didn’t have the strength.

  As I threw water from the rain barrel against the windows with a wooden spoon, I heard the dog barking behind me. For a moment I felt the familiar urge to run away and hide from visitors, whoever they may be, but when I looked down at my flat belly, I realized that this was no longer necessary. I heard steps approach me and I glanced over my shoulder to see who it was.

  Reverend Bosch. Reijer.

  He stopped a few steps behind me and I positioned myself in such a way that I could still throw the last bit of rain water at the windows, yet keep a good eye on him.

  ‘Good afternoon, Maria.’

  I nodded in response, but said nothing. This was the first time I saw him since… Mara. With the disappearance of my big belly, it seemed as if a barrier had fallen away between us. I felt no shame as I saw him now, only the same impatience and anger I felt toward Auntie. It was very easy now to call him Reijer instead of Reverend Bosch.

  ‘Afternoon, Reijer.’ I was angry, and he was allowed to know it.

  ‘Your aunt told me you’re all better now?’

  He spoke as if I had caught a cold, had been in bed for a few days, and was fully recuperated now. Did no one understand then that it was more than a small illness, that the white stretch marks on my stomach would always remain? That a piece of my heart was missing because I could no longer hold my daughter in my arms? Auntie, Mien and now also Reijer, everyone acted like it was just a passing ailment.

  I threw the wooden spoon with force into my bucket and took a firm hold of the bucket while I considered filling the bucket and throwing the contents over Reijer’s head. I didn’t do it.

  ‘Oh yes, all better.’

  ‘I’m glad to hear that.’

  I nodded. Angrily.

  ‘Is your aunt inside?’

  ‘Yes, she’ll probably be in the barn,’ I said, though I didn’t have a clue as to where Auntie was or what she was doing at that moment, and it didn’t interest me in the slightest. As long as he would leave me alone.

  Reijer hesitated for a moment. He fumbled with his cap and then went inside. I watched him go in silence. Then I grabbed my things and moved on to the next window. It suited me just fine if the two of them were going to sit and chat together in the kitchen. They didn’t need my help with that. They could manage just fine without me, just like I would manage just fine without them. I had other concerns. I wasn’t finished yet with the windows.

  ‘Maria!’

  I didn’t respond. She’d stop calling me soon enough.

  ‘Maria!’

  I remained silent and kept cleaning.

  ‘Maria!’

  I heard footsteps in the yard and they came my way.

  ‘Oh, here you are. Come on in, child, I’ve made you some tea.’

  ‘I don’t want any.’

  ‘Reijer is here too, come along and join us.’

  ‘I know he’s here.’

  ‘Maria, child…’

  Reluctantly I turned to face her. I saw a tear on her cheek, but I ignored it and side stepped her. I just missed bumping into her and I felt a sense of satisfaction.

  She had brought this upon herself.

  I walked along the attached barn and used the barn doors at the back to enter. Instead of walking straight into the kitchen, I washed my hands at the pump in the barn and as I stared at the flowing water I wondered to myself if I was treating Auntie too harshly.

  And was I treating the world too harshly too?

  Had my own behavior not been much, much worse than Auntie’s when I had hated my child and had even wished it to be dead?

  But that was before I had seen Mara and had held her in my arms!

  I dried my hands, turned round, crossed the barn and headed for the kitchen. Tea was on the table already and Reijer and Auntie sat together talking in muted voices. When I entered, their voices became silent.

  ‘Come and join us, Maria,’ Auntie spoke after a brief silence. Reluctantly I took a chair and gazed at the steam rising up from the tea. Auntie offered us a cookie and I refused gruffly. I drank my tea as quickly as I possibly could. Despite the heat of the liquid that burnt my mouth and throat I didn’t want to pour the tea in the saucer to cool it off first. With a slam I put the cup back on the saucer. I got up and wanted to leave the kitchen again.

  ‘Maria, it’s you I came for actually.’

  ‘I can’t talk, I’ve got too much work to do.’

  ‘Give me a chance, Maria.’

  I stood still, unsure, and Auntie got up and left the kitchen.

  ‘I’ll leave you two alone.’

  Why won’t anyone listen to me? I don’t want to talk. I am invisible, indistinct and insignificant. I’m sorry Reijer, forget it. I’m out of here. If it’s a conversation you want you’ll have to find Auntie back. Don’t expect anything from me anymore.

  I started to move, ready to walk out.

  ‘Why do you punish us all?’

  I don’t punish anyone, what are you talking about? The only one being punished is me. Over and over again. That was the reason I got pregnant to begin with.
You didn’t know that, did you? You didn’t know it was a punishment. The Reverend knew though, every mistake I made was an excuse for him to come to me and rape me. And in the end that was how he left inside me the seed that brought forth Mara. Oh yeah, by now I know all about it. Did you know all this? All that what a man and woman do together? Sure you do. You’re a man and a servant of God besides. Any idea yet which woman you’re going to select for your filthy games?

  Mara. Mara has been punished too. She was taken away from her mother, even before we could get to know each other. What do you think, has she been punished enough for my sins?

  My mind raged, but my mouth remained silent.

  ‘Maria, I want to help.’

  He stretched out his hand across the table and looked at me, pleadingly. I closed my eyes and turned away. Very deliberately I walked out of the kitchen.

  My feet felt heavy as I lifted them into my wooden shoes. Why did I behave like this to people who were trying to be good to me? Did I really mean to be this harsh, hurt the people close to me, and go through life sad and alone?

  I opened the barn door by leaning against it. I tripped over the threshold and let the door slam closed behind me with a loud bang. Another mistake. You’d think I was angry.

  I wasn’t though. I was just so…

  Sad?

  Without seeing or hearing anything I crossed the yard, walked past the pig house and the chicken coop and looked for an opening in the bushes where I could climb through. My skirt got caught on the thorns of a wild black berry bush, but I tore myself free, not caring that I ripped in my clothes. I trampled on some young shoots that had just started to grow. At the same time I held on to the branches and I tore off all the young green leaves that were growing on them.

  My hands quickly were filled with red stripes, and they ended up soiled by the green juices. It stung. I sat down on a fallen tree and put my face in my hands. I smelled the juices of the crushed leaves on my sticky hands. Now I was really alone, I had managed to distance myself from everyone.

  It wasn’t until Reijer sat down beside me on the tree trunk, that I noticed I had been followed, and he carefully put a warm arm around my shoulder. I jerked up, startled, and moved away from him.