All That Shines and Whispers

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All That Shines and Whispers Page 3

by Jennifer Craven


  “We’re done for today,” Frau Zimmermann said to Marlene, who was mending a hole in Karl’s pants, as the crotchety woman passed through the kitchen to the side door, with a leather tote slung over her shoulder.

  “Oh!” Marlene said, surprised. “Wonderful, thank you.” She glanced at her watch, noting she’d have to leave to fetch the youngest children from primary school soon. She usually took these walks alone, but today a thought occurred to her: perhaps she could convince Lara to join her and Erich for the short jaunt to the children’s school.

  Marlene put a pause on the pants, placing her needle and thread on the counter. She entered the front room where Lara’s small desk sat in the corner near a window with thick, floral drapes.

  “You finished early today,” Marlene said, conjuring cheerfulness she hoped would rub off on her daughter. “Want to walk with us to get the kids from school?”

  Lara parted the curtain panel. The sky was bright with sunshine, and though it was deceiving—it was quite chilly outside—the optimistic weather tempted her away from the house’s stale air. She’d been inside for nearly four days. Her body itched for a fresh breeze, her legs longed to move.

  She turned to face her mother. “Okay.”

  Surprised, Marlene rushed to grab their coats before Lara changed her mind. Then, the threesome headed down the sidewalk, Marlene pushing Erich in a gray, metal pram with a canopy to shield his fair skin from the sun.

  A few houses down, a woman in a houndstooth coat stood on her porch pulling a stack of envelopes from the mailbox. She waved as Marlene, Lara and Erich passed.

  “Hello Marlene!”

  “Hi Clara!” Marlene called in her typical buoyant manner. Lara marveled at her mother’s never-ending gaiety. How can she be so happy all the time? It was borderline unnerving.

  Further down the street, another neighbor walked a small, white poodle. Lush fur trimmed the collar of her heavy swing coat, and she wore T-strap heels that clicked against the pavement with each step. Lara considered the outfit and found it strangely formal for an afternoon walk. The dog lunged excitedly at Lara’s leg, tail wagging.

  “Afternoon, Marlene,” Elin said, both groups slowing as they neared each other. “Hi Lara, nice to see you!”

  The red-haired woman peered into the buggy. “Your brother is an absolute doll,” she purred, standing next to Lara.

  Another flash behind Marlene’s eyelids: Sweat. Screams. Whispers.

  “Yes, he is.”

  “So sorry, Elin,” Marlene placed a hand on Lara’s back, “but we must be going. Can’t be late to get the children from school!”

  “Oh, of course! Don’t let me hold you up. I hope to see you at the ladies’ neighborhood luncheon next week,” Elin called as Marlene pushed Lara onward.

  “I wouldn’t miss it!” Marlene shouted over her shoulder.

  Lara stared at the ground as they continued, counting the cracks in the sidewalk, and stepping over larger holes as if they’d swallow her whole should she step in them.

  “I know it’s hard for you,” Marlene said, gently. “To be here, I mean.” Lara only nodded. The three walked a few more beats in silence before Lara finally spoke.

  “You know so many people.”

  “The folks are nice here, Lara. It’s a friendly neighborhood. I know you could make more friends if you tried. But sulking all day isn’t going to do it.”

  “I don’t want friends. That’s not what this is about, and you know it.”

  Marlene pursed her lips and looked ahead to the school coming into focus. Of course she knew.

  When they reached the small patch of grass, Marlene and Lara waited amongst the handful of other mothers before children poured out through the front doors. Miriam and Gloria came first, as the younger classes dismissed early to give their little legs a head start out of the building. The girls ran toward Marlene, their hair swinging behind them like horses’ manes. They wrapped their mother in a tight hug.

  “Hello dears. How was your day?”

  “Good,” they said in unison.

  Karl and Bettina followed within minutes, descending the concrete steps with a group of friends. Bettina intertwined her arm with another girl’s, the two deeply engaged in the chit chat considered sacred to eleven year olds. Marlene tilted her head, surprised. Bettina wasn’t the most social of her children. In fact, Marlene would have gone as far as to consider the girl an introvert. To see her cheerfully engaged with a classmate was a pleasant surprise. Perhaps she’ll come out of her shell after all, Marlene thought. Erich squealed in the pram at the sight of the siblings he so much adored.

  “Hi Mother! This is my friend, Anna,” Bettina said as the girls approached.

  “Hello Anna. Very nice to meet you.”

  “Hello,” the girl replied. Then to Bettina, “Is this your baby brother? He’s so cute.”

  Marlene’s mind drifted. The smell of blood—metallic and raw.

  Erich pulled up on the side of the buggy and rocked back and forth with excitement. His ability to draw attention wherever he went didn’t go unnoticed by Marlene—his perfect features, porcelain skin and chubby cheeks made him irresistible to friends and strangers alike.

  “Yes,” Bettina answered. She reached into the buggy to rub Erich’s head. “Hi, bud! And this is my oldest sister, Lara.” She wrapped an arm around Lara’s waist. The oldest had served as a role model, and even a mother figure, for the younger children before Marlene entered their lives. They admired her beauty and poise, and even on occasion, styled their hair to replicate Lara. The youngest snuck into her makeup bag to try on their sister’s precious lipstick and rouge.

  “Mother, can Anna come over and play?”

  “Of course, but not today, dear. Soon, okay?” Marlene loved the sound of children’s voices filling her home—and that joy multiplied when her children began welcoming friends into the mix.

  “Okay,” Bettina said. “See you tomorrow, Anna!” The girl skipped away toward the far side of the yard where a woman stood with a toddler at her side. Marlene raised a hand and acknowledged the mother with warmth.

  The group reversed the course they’d just taken, only this time they split in three pairs to accommodate the narrow sidewalk. The children jabbered on about their day: Gloria was learning subtraction, Bettina perfecting her cursive handwriting. Miriam gushed about being chosen first for a game in the schoolyard during recess. (“They must have known I was a fast runner!”).

  They relayed to their mother the day’s activities, and in Karl’s case, how he’d gotten out of any physical activity—once again—in gym class.(“I’d get blisters for sure if I had to jump around in these shoes!”).

  Over the fifteen-minute walk, Erich dozed in the buggy, the bumps beneath the tires along with his siblings’ endless chatter having lulled him, rocked him, to sleep. When they reached the house—deep blue with gray trim, the color of wood smoke—the children dashed past Marlene and Lara. They ran through the gate and into the house, kicking off their shoes and leaving a trail of mis-matched footwear in the entryway.

  Marlene peered into the buggy to where Erich slept, his head drooped to his shoulder, his arms limp at his sides. Oh, to sleep like a baby.

  “I’ll take him to his crib,” Lara said. It was a statement more than a question.

  Marlene hesitated for a moment. “Okay.”

  She watched as Lara reached down and gently cradled Erich in her arms, pressing his tiny body against her chest. His cheek squished against her arm, in a pout that made the girl smile. Swaying in place, she gazed adoringly at the sleeping boy. It looked so natural. A familiar knot twisted in Marlene’s gut.

  Lara entered the house and tip-toed up the stairs, careful not to wake Erich. She pushed open the door to her parents’ bedroom and went to the small white crib along the far wall next to the double bed, whose pillows were propped in the perfect arrangement.

  Leaning over the rail, she lowered Erich onto the mattress. His tiny form melted
into the cushion and he turned over to lay on his belly, pulling his knees in and lifting his little bottom up in the air. He smacked his lips in his sleep and shifted a few times, until finding a comfortable position and becoming still.

  Lara beamed. She dropped a hand into the crib and placed it on his back, gently stroking the length of his body. Peeking at the door behind her to make sure no one was there, she spoke the words she had only ever uttered in her mind.

  “Mama’s here,” she whispered. “I love you, my little boy.”

  She sank to the ground coming to her knees in front of the crib. Her hands gripped firmly on the wood slats, like an inmate begging to be released. Only Erich wasn’t the one in jail—it was her. Trapped in a web of lies from which she couldn’t break free.

  She watched her son’s ribs rise and fall with each breath. And as hot tears slid down her face, she lowered her head and let them collect in a puddle on the floor.

  Five

  One year earlier

  It was about eight weeks after their arrival in Zürich that Lara first became concerned. Not only had she missed her monthly menstruation (or was it two?), but also, she just didn’t feel right. Crippling fatigue took over her body. She wasn’t tired—she was utterly exhausted. Her body felt like it had been hit by a freight train and the lethargy consumed her from head to toe.

  The buttery hue of morning light was no longer a welcome sight. Instead, she struggled to get out of bed, praying for the sun to stay down for just an hour longer. Beneath the buttons running down the neckline of her nightgown, her breasts were sore and swollen. They pulsed with an odd tingling, one that she couldn’t quite decide felt good or terrible.

  The first morning she had to run to the bathroom to vomit, she knew something was wrong. Had she caught some sort of nasty stomach bug? The degree of debility told her this was something different—but what, she didn’t know.

  Marlene, having noticed recent uncharacteristic behavior in her daughter, initially attributed it to the family’s grueling escape from Austria. Climbing the Swiss Alps was a daunting feat in itself, not to mention that Lara had taken turns carrying her youngest siblings for long stretches over rough terrain. Could the girl still be reeling from physical exertion two months later? It seemed unlikely, but who was Marlene to say?

  Soon, however, Lara’s demeanor became too noticeable to ignore. When Marlene overheard her in the bathroom one morning, she crept out of bed, careful not to wake her sleeping husband. She opened the door and saw Lara hovered over the toilet, hands white-knuckled on the rim and head aimed directly at the water below.

  Dread fixed her bones. Tired all the time, lacking energy, and now getting sick repeatedly. Could she be? No, it’s not possible.

  Marlene let it go for another few days—wishing desperately to be proven wrong—but Lara’s symptoms were clear. When the girl continued to be ill each day, Marlene felt the truth to her core. It was categorically obvious. The next morning, before the rest of the house awoke, she snuck into Lara’s room and pried the girl from her bed.

  “Come,” she whispered, “we need to talk.”

  “Hmm? What?” Lara mumbled, still in the depths of sleep.

  “Just come.”

  Lara summoned the energy to roll from bed. The two padded down the hardwood stairs to the lower level and out of earshot.

  “Lara, tell me what’s going on,” Marlene pleaded. “You’re not yourself. And I’ve heard you in the bathroom in the mornings.”

  “You have?”

  “Yes. Are you sick?”

  “I don’t know, Mother.” She was now fully awake. The line of questioning brought an unpleasant feeling that stimulated her emotions. Lara’s eyes brimmed with tears. “I’m so tired all the time. And my body feels weird. It’s like it’s changing every day. My dresses don’t fit anymore, but I’m hardly eating anything.”

  Marlene’s stomach dropped. Her intuition was right.

  “Oh, Lara, you didn’t.”

  “Didn’t what?”

  “Was it Rubin?”

  All color drained from Lara’s face.

  “What do you mean? What about Rubin?”

  “Lara, I think you’re pregnant.”

  “Pregnant? What? No!”

  “Yes. I think so. These are all the classic signs.”

  The girl started to heave. Short, violent breaths seized her lungs. Marlene put a hand on her daughter’s back to calm her down.

  “Take a deep breath, darling. That’s it. Slow down.”

  When her breathing regulated, Lara stared into her mother’s eyes. Marlene took a deep breath.

  “Were you and Rubin…intimate?” Marlene hardly knew how to address this topic. She herself was utterly naïve before her romance with Gerald took her by surprise and bloomed so suddenly. So freshly hatched, she’d barely had a chance to even contemplate the passion taking over her very being. Who was she to interrogate another about such a private matter? She may not have been promiscuous as a young woman, but she knew teenage sex existed—she just didn’t expect it to live in her own home.

  Marlene felt her motherly instinct kick in. Lara wasn’t her blood, but the love she felt for each of the children far surpassed this fact. She was disappointed, but more than that, she felt an innate need to protect her, much like a lioness shielding her cub from danger.

  “Lara, you have to tell me.”

  Shame shadowed Lara’s face. Her cheeks flushed, and she ringed the hem of her nightgown with agitated fingers.

  “It happened so quickly. I didn’t know what I was doing.”

  “When?”

  “Shortly before we fled. When you and Father were on your honeymoon, actually.”

  “Oh Lara.” Marlene dipped her head and cast her gaze to her lap.

  “I’m so sorry, Mother. I didn’t know this would happen. But I loved him. I still love him.”

  “Still love him? Lara, do you hear what you’re saying?” Her voice loud and sharp. “Rubin betrayed us. He betrayed you.”

  “No! He was coerced, I know it. He’s not a bad person, Mother. I know he loved me too. He told me.”

  “Of course he told you that.” Frustration soured in her mouth. Lara’s jaw dropped, stunned, hurt. She looked away, as a giant lump formed in her throat. Bile churned behind her ribs and she felt as if she might be sick again.

  Marlene’s face softened. She remembered those early days of young love, the butterflies that tickled her stomach. Lara was just seventeen. It was a mistake. One with a serious consequence. But she didn’t want to place any more guilt on her daughter’s shoulders.

  “Okay,” Marlene said, sitting up straighter. “What’s done is done. There’s no sense trying to erase the past. We’re here now and we need to figure out what to do.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You’re pregnant, Lara. You’re going to have a baby.”

  The girl’s eyes widened and her mouth fell open.

  “But you can’t,” Marlene continued straight-faced. “Your father. He’s trying to establish his practice here in the Swiss ranks. It’s the only way we’ll survive. He’s almost back to the top. A teenage daughter with an illegitimate child would ruin him. Ruin us. We simply cannot risk that reputation.”

  “What are you saying, Mother?” Lara’s tone was panicking. But Marlene was lost in thought, her mind going a million miles an hour trying to come up with a solution to avoid a catastrophic situation.

  “Mother?”

  Marlene snapped to focus, her hand coming to rest on her forehead. She stared at the terrified face of a girl, who at one time had so desperately wanted to be a woman but now looked no older than a child. Her heart crumbled for all that was about to be lost.

  “Come here, darling.” She pulled Lara into a tender hug. “It’s going to be okay. We’ll figure this out. Let me talk to your father. We’ll come up with a plan. Until then, don’t say anything to anyone—not even your siblings.”

  “Okay.” Lara stifled a
sob. “I’m so sorry, Mother.”

  Marlene brushed a piece of hair from Lara’s face and ran her hand down the girl’s tear-stained cheek.

  With a voice on the edge of breaking, Lara was able to utter four more words: “Will God forgive me?”

  “Of course He will.” She gave Lara’s hands a gentle squeeze. “Now, go get a bit more rest before everyone gets up.” Lara crept softly back toward her room at the end of the hallway, her head hanging.

  Marlene sat for a moment before walking heavy-footed to her bedroom and slipped through the door without a sound. She eased in bed beside Gerald who, she was relieved to see, hadn’t budged since she’d left. Sliding under the crisp quilt, she swallowed the lump in her throat and closed her eyes.

  Terrifying images danced behind her lids, one more dreadful than the next. She shivered at the thought of the public disgrace that would befall the family should this news get out. Without specifics of the night in question, she was left to her imagination to piece it all together.

  How could Rubin have taken advantage of her? How could Lara have been so foolish?

  The sick questions and painful possibilities rolled through her mind one by one like a runaway locomotive. Despite all efforts, Marlene never fell back asleep. Instead, she tossed and turned, imagining the various outcomes of Lara’s circumstance.

  ***

  The first hints of light trickled through the curtains. Marlene usually greeted the new day head on and with a jovial spirit. Each morning was an opportunity to be grateful, and she epitomized the mantra of “seize the day.” But today felt different. Today was ominous.

  She decided to keep Lara’s situation to herself, letting it sink in and giving herself a chance to formulate options. It wasn’t easy to pretend nothing was wrong—she and her husband shared everything, and he was the greatest source of support in her life, but she kept her tongue quiet, allowing her brain to think.

  Marlene went through the day’s motions, trying not to draw alarm. The house was warm, but she still felt numb.

  The following morning, a soft set of lips on her forehead stirred her from her light sleep. She rolled to lie face to face with her husband. His dark hair sprinkled with faint streaks of gray gave him a distinguished look, even first thing in the morning, when he was tousled from a restful night.

 

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