Never Turn Back

by Lorna Lee

  Autumn yielded to winter. The treks to visit Jeannine once a week were more difficult as the cold winds of Paris blew without caring about Meri’s thin overcoat. Taking Jeannine out for the day became neither safe nor practical, and staying inside Hulta’s tiny apartment for more than a couple of hours was unbearable.

  Ilsa grew more dependent on Meri to tend to her children, and Madame encouraged her sister to be free of the burden of child care. This meant her one free day each week—a day Meri treasured and needed—often was taken from her. Madame gave Meri extra compensation for working on her day off, which was uncharacteristic of her. Since Monsieur was not consulted, Meri suspected the money came from Ilsa. Meri justified not seeing Jeannine on those weeks by telling herself the extra money was for their future together. Plus, you’re still so young, you won’t remember Hulta. You’ll be with me when your memories begin.

  On a cold, but not too blustery, day in early March, 1934, Meri walked to Hulta’s apartment. She had not seen Jeannine in three weeks. Hulta will want her money, Meri thought. What will I do once I get there? It’s too cold to be out for hours with a baby. The cold could kill her. Perhaps that would be the best thing. What kind of life can I give her as a servant to rich people who just use me? I can make a life for myself…but for me and for a baby, I don’t think I can. Mon Dieu! What am I thinking? What kind of mother thinks these thoughts? I don’t deserve to have a child. Perhaps she would be better off with other people. Two parents. A real family. There I go again! Trying to get rid of my baby! I’m a monster not a mother! I’ll never have sex again. I’ll never have another child. I don’t deserve the one I have. Mon Dieu! What’s happened to me and my life? I’m twenty-nine years old and my life is over.

  By the time she arrived at Hulta’s apartment, Meri was as morose as any Finnish mother she had ever met.

  When she entered the apartment and saw Jeannine, her mood changed from depressed to furious.

  “Good Lord, Hulta, what have you done to Jeannine?” The nearly eight-month-old looked barely the size of a six-month-old. The baby had gotten smaller since Meri had last seen her. Meri spoke rapid-fire Finnish. “She’s skin and bones!”

  Hulta stood statue still, arms crossed, and gave Meri the Evil Eye. Meri had seen many older women, including her mother, glare with evil intent at someone for whom they held deep malice. The Finns, at least in Meri’s family, referred to the menacing stare as the Evil Eye.

  Meri picked up her whimpering, boney baby. Jeannine had sores on every part of her skin that Meri could see. Her normally thick, curly hair was matted, too. Jeannine’s cheeks were no longer chubby. Meri hardly recognized her daughter.

  “There, there, cocotte, Mamma is here. Everything is fine.” Meri kissed her matted hair. It smelled sour. Meri called Jeannine cocotte as a pet name. It meant a variety of things in French—hen, casserole, honey, darling. She used it because Jeannine had a naturally chubby body and round face. My cocotte is skinny, dirty, and covered in sores. This woman is killing my baby not caring for her!

  Hulta remained silent. Staring.

  “I’ll have you arrested for neglecting this child! What am I paying you for? To feed your mouth and the mouths of your children while you let my daughter die?” Meri had not lost her ability to speak Finnish or her ability to speak her mind.

  Hulta finally spoke. “Paying me? What pay? You haven’t paid me for three weeks! Do you think I have extra money growing out of my children’s ears? She’s alive, but your money doesn’t buy much care after three weeks of paying me nothing. I should have you arrested for abandoning your child!”

  Meri gave Hulta the Evil Eye. All of Hulta’s children somehow disappeared inside the small apartment. Apparently they did not want to get infected by all of the malicious glowering. “I told you the last time I came that I might miss a week now and then because my duties have changed. When have I not paid you what I owed you? You must be a cruel woman to take out your anger at me on an innocent child.”

  “I’m not angry. I’m poor. You should understand this. Money only goes so far, and I have to take care of my own. Maybe this, you don’t understand.” She smirked, obviously thinking she scored a blow with her words.

  She did hurt Meri with her remark. Meri had already decided she was a better employee than a mother. She was not taking care of her own, no matter how many ways she tried to justify it. Meri was both livid and ashamed. I’m too upset to make big decisions, she told herself. She did anyway. “I won’t let my baby girl stay one more minute in this hovel.” Her words were eerily calm given the turmoil brewing inside her. She reached into her handbag and threw the bundle of Francs she owed Hulta on the floor. Then, remembering she had included the upcoming week’s payment, bent over, and picked up some of the scattered money. “There. Consider our arrangement,” and she reverted to French to say her final remark to this woman, “c’est fini.”

  Meri collected what she could find of Jeannine’s few belongings. She was happy for the extra clothes since they provided insulation from the cold March day for the walk home. Meri struggled pushing the old baby carriage. Jeannine, although underweight, had outgrown it, and the rickety wheels were stiff from non-use.

  Meri did not spend much time thinking about fighting with the decrepit baby carriage on her way back to the Dorval residence, though. She busied her mind concocting a plan for what she would do once she arrived with her grimy, starving, sickly daughter.

  Chapter 13: Plunge of Faith

  “If you don’t risk anything, you risk even more.”

  Erica Jong

  Rather than taking the familiar route back to the Dorval residence, Meri found herself on streets she used to walk when she first moved to Paris. She arrived at 6 Rue Greneta around noon. The neighborhood had not changed much in the five years since she had lived in Apartment 3C with Tuula and Elina. Has it only been five years? Meri pondered as she looked at the door leading up to the apartment. It seems like a lifetime ago.

  She and Jeannine had been walking for over an hour in the damp, cold, windy March morning. Devising a workable plan to keep Jeannine safe and allow her to keep her job took less time than Meri thought. Unfortunately, the plan involved asking for help from Tuula. They did not part on friendly terms and forgiveness did not come easily to either woman. “What else can I do?” Meri spoke to her sleeping daughter as she pushed the dilapidated, creaking carriage. “Madame will never allow me to bring you into her home, especially with her sister’s children living there. I have no way of contacting Siri today. What could she do for us, anyway? I need someone to look after you tonight! Tuula is my only hope. If she still lives in her apartment…and if she’ll even speak to me after we left things the way we did. Do you think Elina still hates me, too? Oh, Jeannine! For such a little girl, you create very big troubles for me. Asking Tuula for help after all these years is the last thing I ever thought I would do. You’re making me do this.”

  Meri finally reached her old neighborhood and building. She stood outside for several minutes, even though the cold and dampness seeped through to her bones. With a heavy sigh, she plucked her daughter from the carriage, opened the street-level door, climbed the two flights of stairs slowly—heavily—and stood outside Apartment 3C. Meri remembered the first time she stood there. She had been carrying a leather satchel not a baby. She had been young, innocent, and ambitious. Now she was tired, disillusioned, and desperate.

  She raised her hand to knock on the door. Will I be more relieved if Tuula has moved so I can save my dignity or if Tuula answers so I can save my child and job?

  When the door opened, both Meri and the occupant of Apartment 3C were equally surprised. Elina had grown up to be quite a lovely young woman. Meri wouldn’t have recognized her except for the wild mass of curly, dark hair that still refused to be tamed.

  “Meri? Is that you?” Elina spoke impeccable French. Her little-girl hesitation had disappeared. She was confident—a strong young woman. “I can’t believe it! Come in. C
ome in. Mamma is sleeping. Some things never change.” She smiled as she ushered Meri in.

  Meri remained silent, a look of apprehension ironed on her face.

  Elina tried to hug Meri and noticed what, or who, Meri carried. “Meri! You have a baby! Is it yours? Let me see!”

  Meri glanced at Jeannine, who she had covered up so thoroughly even she could barely see her daughter’s face. She finally turned her attention back to Elina and spoke with caution. “Elina, I’m…I’m…happy to see you after…so long.” Meri had trouble finding the right words. She shook more from nerves than the bone-chilling cold. “You look so…so grown-up.”

  “Never mind about me. Tell me about this baby.” Elina, always the detective…

  “Her name is Jeannine. Jeannine Vivi. She is mine.” Meri held Jeannine closer, ashamed of her baby’s condition.

  “Meri! You’re a mother! Let me see her!”

  “Perhaps it’s best if you get your mother. Then I can tell you both my long story about Jeannine and why I’m here.” With Meri’s intense gray eyes fixed on Elina’s still innocent brown eyes, Elina frowned, then shrugged, nodded, and went into her mother’s bedroom.

  Meri was still standing in the same place when, several minutes later, both Tuula and Elina appeared. As Meri feared, Tuula wore a pensive face. Tuula’s frown and glower could frighten the most confident of men. Meri stood firm. I have to do this for my job…and for Jeannine.

  “Elina tells me you have a baby. I’m not surprised. I always thought you were too gullible around men.”

  “Tuula, I’m not here to argue.” Meri’s voice was calm, belying the defensiveness brewing inside her.

  “Please, tell us then, why you are here? I got the impression we wouldn’t cross paths again if you had any say in the matter. Yet, here you are.” Tuula’s frown became a taunting smile.

  Meri adjusted Jeannine in her arms and took a deep breath. “We parted badly. I hoped time and circumstances might have softened us…both. We helped each other once. Perhaps we can help each other again?”

  Elina nodded and smiled a genuine smile, which helped Meri feel somewhat hopeful. Then Tuula spoke.

  “You left both of us for a better life. Yes, we once helped each other. In the end, though, you helped yourself and to hell with us. I see no reason to help you now.” Tuula’s hands were firmly planted on her hips.

  Elina gasped. “Mamma. She has a baby. You always said—”

  “Never mind what I always said! Meri deserted you, too, Elina.”

  “I never meant to hurt either one of you. My job forced me to leave here. You know the way we women must comply to the demands of the work we do so we can survive. You of all people should know the choice I had to make, Tuula. Neither of us control our own lives. I had to go live with Monsieur Nurmi. Living under the same roof with him wasn’t pleasant, trust me.” Meri didn’t want to be on the defensive about the past, but she couldn’t help herself. Her grip on Jeannine must have tightened, or her daughter sensed Meri’s agitation, because the baby started to fuss.

  “That’s just your excuse for—”

  “Stop! Both of you! You’re supposed to be adults. Ha!” Elina stomped her foot. Jeannine began crying. “I’m sorry, little one.” Elina said in a much softer voice. “I’m ashamed of you, Mamma. Stop being so stubborn. Meri looked after me for a long time and helped out around here. We had fun when she was with us. You missed her when she left. You said you would have done the same thing for a good job.” Elina winced as her mother’s eyes narrowed and her brows furrowed. Elina squared her shoulders and continued. “Well, you did! You said you even picked a fight to make it easier when Meri left.”

  Meri’s eyes widened as Elina spoke. They got wider as Elina continued. “Meri. I bet you did the same thing. You didn’t want to leave, so you picked a fight to make it easier to leave us. Sometimes adults act more like children than children do!”

  Meri opened her mouth, but Elina cut her off. “I’m not finished yet. Have you seen yourself lately, Meri? You look so tired and, well, pitiful. I hardly recognized you at the door. You obviously need help. You aren’t going to let pride or fear of Mamma stop you from asking for help, are you? We’re your only family here. Am I right?”

  Meri nodded, dumbfounded at Elina’s maturity, courage, and…audacity. Elina turned to her mother.

  “Family helps family, right Mamma? That’s what you taught me.” Elina folded her arms in front of her and stared at her mother. “Now I’m done.”

  Tuula’s rigid posture softened. She shook her head slowly as she sat down on one of the kitchen chairs, the same ones they had all used so many times before, so many years before. “For the past couple of years, this is the way it’s been around here. Elina is the boss. We better do as she says or we won’t get any lunch!” Tuula winked at Meri. “Come over here and sit, Meri. Tell us why you’re here.” Looking at Elina, Tuula smiled and said, “You shouldn’t listen so carefully to everything I say.”

  Elina laughed. Then she reached out and took Jeannine from Meri’s arms. “Everything’s fine, Meri; I take care of some babies and small children to help Mamma with expenses. I’ll hold her while we sit and talk.”

  Meri nodded as she gave Jeannine to Elina. Then both Meri and Elina joined Tuula at the kitchen table. Meri told them her story about how she came to be at their door.

  §

  Meri felt better after a nice meal and, for the baby, a much-needed bath and some food. Together, the three women devised a temporary plan for Jeannine’s care. Temporary is better than nothing. These women are good to me. Meri left the apartment assured her daughter was in capable, caring hands…for at least one month.

  Tuula and Elina followed Meri into the hallway. Meri hugged both women. “Merci beaucoup. You’ve saved our lives. I’ll return as soon as I can. I suspect the German Mesdames won’t let me have another day to myself for two or three weeks.” Elina kissed Meri on both cheeks and ran to Jeannine’s make-shift bed of blankets and pillows on the floor.

  Tuula patted Meri on the back. “We’ll take good care of your petite cocotte and see if we can put some meat on her bones. Remember, though, Elina and I are moving back to Finland. I couldn’t pass up Kaija’s offer to stay with her and Arttu. Given this poor economy, my aging body for a ‘dancer,’ and all this talk of Hitler creating hatred for gypsies and Jews, I’d be crazy not to get out of here.” Tuula and Meri looked in at Elina, already too distracted with Jeannine to hear her mother’s words in the hallway. The girl’s shock of curly, dark hair and olive complexion was enough to target her as one of the “undesirables” or “dangerous” people the Mesdames insisted on disparaging.

  “As soon as I return to the Dorvals, I’ll ask Monsieur and Siri to help me find another home for Jeannine…or I’ll find other work. Please, Tuula, say nothing about me to Kaija…or Jani if he still lives there.” Meri bent her head in a moment of uncharacteristic weakness when she explained, “I was nothing in Finland. I don’t want them knowing I am nothing in Paris.”

  Tuula gently grabbed Meri’s chin and pulled it up to the two women faced each other, eye-to-eye. Winking mischievously, Tuula said the most reassuring and kind thing Meri had heard in a long time. “I know how you feel. Don’t worry. I’ll have enough of my own explaining to do. Lying about you will confuse my tired brain.” When Tuula decides to smile a genuine smile, she’s still a beautiful woman. A beautiful friend.

  Meri breathed a sigh of relief. “I’ll bring more money when I come. I’m sorry I couldn’t give you more, but I gave you all I have.”

  “You gave us more money than we’ve seen in a long while, Meri. This Hulta woman charged handsomely to neglect poor Jeannine.”

  “Perhaps I’m in the wrong line of work.” Meri quipped. Both women started to laugh. How long has it been since I laughed? Meri wondered. This feels so good!

  §

  Meri returned to the Dorval residence later than usual. Worried because the Mesdames became cross with her
whenever she arrived late from her day off, she cringed when she heard loud voices shouting over one another. This isn’t good. I’m sure I’m at fault…and after the day I’ve had… Meri braced herself and opened the door to the circus going on inside.

  Soldat paced and barked, anxious for his food and freedom. Karl’s cries were more like screams. Kurt marched around the house chanting “Food! Food! Food!” Both Mesdames screeched orders to Claire—who was on duty—to “do something about all this chaos!” Only Monsieur was silent.

  Meri entered through the kitchen. Soldat’s bark immediately changed from low and agitated to high and excited. “Shush! Soldat, I’m trying to sneak in.” Claire ran to the kitchen. The normally pretty, happy Claire resembled the frayed edges of a worn rug.

  “Where have you been? I’m going crazy!” She opened her mouth as if she was going to say more and then closed it. With both fists clenched, she turned abruptly and stomped out of the kitchen.

  Meri turned to Soldat and shrugged.

  Soldat looked at Meri and nudged her hand—his way of telling her to fix his food.

  Without taking off her coat, Meri prepared the dog’s dinner. While she chopped chicken parts, the Mesdames stormed into the kitchen. They repeated Claire’s question, word for word. They, however, stayed to hear Meri’s answer.

  “I’m sorry, Mesdames. My baby. The woman I hired to care for her neglected her horribly. I had to make other arrangements immediately. For her safety. It took more time than I normally take on my free day. Forgive me, Mesdames, but I had to provide for my baby’s safety.” Meri thought repeating the “safety” part of the explanation might help.