Mara

by Mara (v5. 0) (epub)

‘My brother is like a walking advertisement for me,’ Mrs. Crabbe said while she pulled back the chair with the empty plate in front of it and the man sat down.

  ‘Are you joining us for dinner?’

  ‘No, thank you, the Missus is expecting me.’

  I listened in silence to their conversation, and suddenly and idea came to me. I felt very forward when I opened my mouth, but I asked my question anyway.

  ‘Sir, tomorrow I need to cross the Westerschelde. Do you know of anyone I could sail with?’

  He was quiet and thoughtfully rubbed a finger over his nose.

  ‘I might know of someone…’ Again his finger rubbed back and forth. ‘What time did you want to sail?’

  I shrugged my shoulders and said: ‘It doesn’t matter to me, any time will do.’

  ‘I think that for a fee you’ll be able to sail with Piet Kannegieter.’

  I saw Mrs. Crabbe nod her head enthusiastically at the mention of that name and I looked questioningly from her back to her brother.

  ‘He’s going through some tough times now, but if you’re willing to pay him…?’

  In my mind I calculated how much money was left of the money my aunt had given me, and I knew there must be plenty left. Despite my protests, she had given me a whole purse full.

  ‘Of course I’ll pay him.’

  ‘In that case I’ll talk to him tonight.’

  ‘That would be wonderful, sir.’

  ‘You let me know what time you’d like to go and I’ll arrange things with Piet.’

  I could hardly believe how easily things were arranged. These folk were so kind, so I gratefully accepted their help. It was arranged that tomorrow morning at seven o’clock I would depart from the harbour.

  After dinner the woman showed me to my room. It was a tidy room and I felt so blessed to have met the man at the station and that he had sent me here.

  I withdrew for the night with Mara and went to bed early. Despite all the excitement of the day I fell asleep quickly, all my worries for the coming day disappeared into the background and I had a peaceful and restful night.

  32

  In the morning, Mrs. Crabbe woke me up and when I came downstairs she had breakfast prepared for me. I tried to eat some of it, but I felt my stomach protest with the tension I felt. Today I would return to the manse.

  ‘Come child, eat some more,’ Mrs. Crabbe said.

  ‘It’s delicious, really.’ My words weren’t convincing and I knew my hostess could tell.

  ‘I don’t want to put my nose where it doesn’t belong, but if you ask me, a young mother ought to take good care of herself. But you know what, I’ll wrap up a few sandwiches for you, for along the way. I’m sure your appetite will return when you’re on the water.’

  ‘Thank you very much.’

  It struck me that Mrs. Crabbe no longer addressed me with ‘ma’am’, but I felt more comfortable now that she treated me as what I was, a girl, with a child.

  ‘If you like, you can use the kitchen to wash the bottle and prepare a new supply of milk.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  I pushed my chair back and followed my hostess to the kitchen where I quickly washed everything and warmed up fresh milk for the thermos. I also prepared a bottle for Mara so I could feed her. I was finished soon and just as I came down with my suitcase, the door opened up and Mrs. Crabbe’s brother entered.

  ‘Are you ready?’

  ‘Yes, I just have to bring the baby carriage outside.’

  ‘Let me do that for you.’

  While he brought my belongings outside, I settled my bill with Mrs. Crabbe and said farewell to her. She hugged me as if we were old friends and before I could say a word she bent over Mara to give her a kiss.

  ‘A beautiful girl you have. Enjoy her. They grow up so quickly.’

  I nodded and followed her to the door, the baby carriage stood ready with my suitcase on top. I decided to keep Mara in the wrap and I stepped onto the sidewalk.

  The crossing was uneventful. Piet Kannegieter was a friendly and talkative man. He chatted to me about this, that and the other thing. I found out that he, like so many others these days, had lost his job last week, and that he now took on any little job to earn some cash. His two sons, who had always worked with him on the boat, had left for the city in the hope to find work there, but he himself was too old to try that.

  I felt sorry for him, and when we docked I made him a proposition.

  ‘If you’ve got time and are willing to wait for me, I’ll pay you three times the fare.’

  He shook his head and scratched his head underneath his cap.

  ‘I can’t accept that, ma’am.’

  ‘How else will I be able to return?’

  ‘Aren’t you planning on staying here then?’

  ‘No, I hope to be done here in an hour or so.’

  He thought for a minute, then nodded.

  ‘All right, but I can’t accept the amount you’re offering. Let’s make it double the fare.’

  ‘That’s good.’

  I held out my hand to him and he gave it a firm shake. I still meant to pay him the amount I first offered anyway. I had no need for the money and would gladly let him have it.

  ‘Would you mind if I left my luggage on board?’

  ‘Not at all. I’ll wait here, and as soon as you’ve returned, we’ll depart.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  It was time for me to step off my floating little island. Piet Kannegieter quickly jumped down on the quay and held out his hand for me. Gratefully I accepted his help. From now on I’d be on my own. No, not entirely. I looked down at Mara’s face and she stared up at me from inside the wrap. Mother’s grandchild.

  Slowly I started to walk. At this time of day there wasn’t much activity in the harbor, and the few men I saw were so engrossed in their work, they paid no attention to me. It was the beginning of a new and warm spring day, but despite the warm temperature it was cloudy and I half expected it to rain yet. I wished it would start pouring with rain right then and there so the chances of running into familiar faces would be that much smaller.

  One more time I checked my skirt’s pocket. The envelope was still there, safe and dry. Before I left this morning I had quickly put a pencil in my pocket as well. I still wasn’t sure if I had said everything I needed to say in the letter and I was still in doubt over some of the words and phrases I had used. Not that I could do much about it anymore at this point in time.

  There wasn’t a soul in sight in Harbor Street, but I knew it was very likely that I would run into someone I knew. In order to reach the manse, I had to walk through Hooghe Breet Street, the main street where most of the shops in town were located. People would see me and recognize me. Of course I had known all the time that this moment would come, but now that it truly was here I felt strong waves of doubt come over me. I looked back over my shoulder at the boat that had just brought me here. I couldn’t see Piet Kannegieter, but I knew he was around and I only needed to walk back if I wanted to disappear. Nobody had seen me and nobody would miss me.

  I looked ahead of me again and gasped a startled breath when I almost bumped into someone. I caught myself just in time, then we both stood still.

  ‘I’m sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.’ I first checked up on Mara, then I looked up at the woman.

  Helène.

  Memories flashed through my head and formed a terrible tale of judgment and rejection. I shivered as I realized how similar our lives now were. Deep within I knew what the future had in store for me, and now I looked that future in the eye.

  She looked back at me and blinked a few times.

  ‘I am truly sorry,’ I said and I put my hand on the sleeve of her coat. Did she understand that I meant more than just my inattentiveness? Should I explain? I stood with my mouth half open and couldn’t find the words, and the silence hung between us like an invisible web that connected us but also separated us. Then, with a jerk, she pulled her arm free and my
hand fell.

  ‘Don’t you think you should go and walk on the other side of the street?’ she sneered at me.

  I lowered my head with shame and shook ‘no’. When I raised my head I no longer wanted to be a coward.

  ‘No, I’m going to keep walking on this side. And I offer you my apologies. For everything.’ The last two words came out in a soft whisper, but I knew she had heard me.

  She looked at me thoughtfully and then her eyes glanced down at Mara. Her face softened.

  ‘Once I was just like you, pastor’s daughter.’

  She gently stroked Mara’s head. Then she slipped away without another word.

  Silent and numb I stood still. Her words echoed in my head. I closed my eyes and remembered the first time we had met. Mother had frightened me and pulled me along. I had obeyed Mother despite the fact that the woman had been kind to me that day on the market. I had let myself be frightened and taken in by tales about fallen women and bastards. Obediently I had avoided Helène at every occasion. I had even, with some other children, thrown chestnuts at her and her little son.

  I looked into Mara’s innocent face and thought of Helène’s poor son whom I had always hated for no reason. Was this the kind of life that lay ahead for my child? Would her mother’s shame brand her for the rest of her life?

  I looked at my daughter and saw her open up her eyes. She smiled, blinked and stretched her arms and legs. She was a beautiful child. Many people during my journey had assured me of it and I could see it for myself. There was no reason for me to feel embarrassed for her, nor was there any reason for her to feel ashamed of me. I pulled her up out of the wrap, then folded the cloth around her. Holding Mara close to me, against my shoulder, clearly visible for all to see, I continued walking with determination. I walked faster and faster, and my feet automatically found their way to the manse. I took the corner into Hooghe Breet Street. I started to get out of breath and I could feel sweat trickling down my back. It wasn’t far to the manse now, but I knew it was impossible to pass through unnoticed. Someone would recognize me and they would immediatley see Mara too, and in the next instant they would condemn us both.

  I closed my eyes for several moments, but kept walking, hoping that I wouldn’t run into anyone, that I would be invisible. My hope was dashed very soon when I heard footsteps approaching. I kept focussing on Mara, still hoping I could go on undisturbed, but even before I heard a voice speak, I heard an oh, so familiar cough, and I knew who was standing there in front of me.

  ‘Is it really you, Maria?’ Her exaggerated squeal of surprise seemed to echo through the street and I wished for the ground to open up and swallow me, but there was nothing for it, I had to face her.

  ‘Good day, Mrs. Kleut.’ I looked straight at her, determined to remain dignified, and I noticed how her steelly blue eyes started to gleam with indignation. She openend her mouth to speak, but she remained speechless with her mouth hanging open like that of a fish gasping for air on land.

  ‘Shouldn’t you be at your shop counter, Mrs. Kleut? It’s not like you to be walking about town at this time of day. I won’t keep you any longer.’ I smiled at her and then turned my gaze back to my daughter.

  ‘Come along girl. We’ve got business to attend to today. Goodbye Ma’am.’

  I ignored her and quickly walked on, my nose in the air with pride. No longer did I let my shoulders hang. Everyone was allowed to know I was here, with my daughter.

  From the corner of my eye I could see that several little groups of people gathered in the street. Behind me I could hear Mrs. Kleut’s shrill voice and I knew she would have assembled a little crowd around her and was giving them the full details of her encounter with me. She’d say that, yes, it really was me, Maria, the pastor’s daughter. And that - oh, but keep this hush-hush! – I carried a child in my arms. She would talk in a hushed voice, yet loud enough so everyone who wanted to could hear every word.

  I ignored it all and walked past the little white church I hated so much. The small ornamental ship over the entrance door still looked so ridiculously small, but I quickly looked ahead of me again. I could see the manse, diagonally behind the church.

  I took a deep breath and stood still with my eyes closed. My hand once more checked my pocket to make sure I still had the envelope. My fingers curled around it. I knew the letter must by now look crumpled and creased, I had held it in my hand so often. Only a few more yards separated me from my mother. I hesitated as I was about to step onto the path leading to the house. There was a very small chance that the Reverend would be home, but I was fairly sure he wouldn’t be. Wednesday mornings were always dedicated to home visits. I stood, contemplating what to do, when I felt a raindrop on my cheek, and then another, followed by more.

  Without more a-do I opened the little gate and followed the path to the backdoor. Even if the Reverend was home, it wasn’t likely that he would see me here. The study was at the front of the house, beside the frontdoor, and Mother’s domain was the kitchen at the back of the house. That’s where I was most likely to find her. Mara suddenly seemed to weigh much more than usual and my feet also felt heavy. I almost tripped when my foot got caught behind one of the uneven stones in the path.

  I had reached the backdoor.

  The wind had started to blow and the rain was coming down hard now and it blew against the window. Wet streaks washed the windows and made it impossible for me to see what was going on inside. I tried to keep Mara sheltered from the rain by leaning over her while I ran the last few yards. Out of habit I simply pushed open the backdoor, without knocking. And there I stood in the warm kitchen.

  I was gasping for air and needed a few moments to catch my breath. Then I looked up.

  Mother was sitting at the kitchen table with some mending in her hands. She stared up at me in shocked surprise. Her mouth fell open. Her hands fell limply on the table and the thimble rolled away, it just stopped at the edge of the table.

  I could only hear the sound of my hurried breathing. I turned and closed the door, locking the rain out. Now I my ears picked up another sound, that of the rain hitting the window. Slowly my senses returned and I could smell the familiar aroma of Mother’s kitchen, I could feel Mara’s little body, still weighing me down. Water had soaked through my clothes and I shivered.

  ‘Maria?’ Her voice was no more than a whisper and I wondered if I had heard her correctly.

  Before I could respond, Mara stirred and made a loud wail that echoed around the kitchen. I realized how strange it was for me to stand there, in the house where I was raised, in the same room as my mother, but with my back against the door, on the mat, like an uninvited guest.

  ‘Mother.’

  ‘What are you doing here, you’re not supposed to be here, not with that child.’

  Her words were like the sharp knife stabs. Her voice was indifferent and there was rejection in her eyes.

  ‘Mara. Her name is Mara.’ I held on to the daughter I had fought for, and I didn’t know what else to say.

  ‘You’re not supposed to be here, he won’t stand for it. Not with the child.’ Her eyes seemed to look straight through me, her lips moved and shaped the words but she didn’t seem to be really talking to me.

  I pulled the letter from my skirt pocket. The envelope was rumpled, and to make it even worse, two wet drops fell down my face onto it the paper.

  ‘This letter… It is for you. I came to deliver it to you.’

  ‘Letters are delivered by the postman.’

  ‘It would mean so much to me if you would read this letter, Mother.’

  Her eyes seemed to glance at the envelope in my hand, but I wasn’t sure. She still gazed in that odd, remote way.

  ‘Don’t give the letter to the Reverend, Mother. Read it for yourself. That’s all I ask.’

  Mother still hadn’t moved. She sat stiffly on her kitchen chair and didn’t seem to have any inclination to hug me.

  ‘Auntie Be sends you her love,’ I whispered.

/>   I wiped my feet on the doormat, walked three steps into the kitchen and placed the envelope on the table. I quickly grabbed the pencil from my pocket. I turned the envelope over and hastily wrote with clear letters a short sentence on the back. I had trouble breathing and droplets of sweat were on my forehead. This was my last chance, the only thing left for me to do. I returned the pencil to my pocket and stepped back.

  ‘Please read this, Momma.’

  Those were the words I had written. My voice halted, I tripped and turned around. I opened the door and stepped into the rain. Momma, that is what I used to call her. My Momma. How long had it been since I last called her that? And now, all of a sudden that word had found it’s way back into that cold kitchen.

  I gasped for air and my side ached, yet another pain. The rain beat down on my head and body, and I wrapped my arms protectively around Mara’s little body. I was pretty sure she was still dry, but it wouldn’t be long for the rain to soak through the fabric and make her wet and cold. It was time to leave. I turned back slowly. I wanted to see her one more time and wave to her, the lonely woman at the kitchen table. But when I turned I was amazed to find her face pressed against the window, so close to me I could touch her.

  The heavens wept for her with raindrops streaking down her face behind the window, distorting her features. Unsure, I lifted my hand to wave. I searched her face for a sign of life and I softly whispered one more time ‘Momma’.

  Then I walked away with hanging shoulders. After about 10 yards I turned again to look at her. I was hoping for something, but I didn’t know what. I think I stood there for at east a minute before I finally turned away to continue walking. At the little gate I turned one last time. The rain was like a curtain between us and I couldn’t see much more than a now slowly moving shadow. She pressed her hand against the glass in a desperate gesture. To hold on to me? Or to ward me off?

  I didn’t run into anyone on my short walk back to Harbor Street. I was half running, half walking, and I jumped over some large puddles that had formed. My biggest concern was that the blanket around Mara wouldn’t stay dry. Just as I was about to step on board, a loud voice called out.