“Shut up!” Ela’s voice resonated with such force that it seemed to have come from a person twice her size.
Luella’s hand stopped mid wail, and she turned toward Ela. Her face was so red it had an almost purple hue. “What did you say to me?” The woman stood, placing her hands on her hips and towering over Ela.
Still hunched on the floor against the wall, Ela looked up at her mother. “I said shut up.” Using the wall as leverage, she pushed herself up, and stood directly in front of the enraged woman.
Luella’s right hand lashed out with such speed and force, Ela had no hope of defending herself. Her mother’s open hand made contact with Ela’s left cheek, sending a shock of pain through her head and down her neck. Ela grabbed her face. “Don’t you ever raise your voice to me, girl!” Luella slowly lowered her hand back to her hip. “You killed your father, and you yell at me?”
Ela’s eyes locked on to her mother’s, her voice was low when she spoke. “I didn’t kill him. He died. He was sick.”
Luella, unable to match the intensity of her daughter’s stare, turned back toward her dead husband. “Maybe if you had brought the food back sooner he –” Her attempt to chastise her daughter was cut short by the slamming of the bedroom door, followed shortly by the front door. “Good riddance,” Luella muttered to herself, having no intention of going after her daughter.
***
“My father is dead,” Ela said with little inflection as Rilla opened her front door.
Rilla immediately took note of the child’s swollen and red cheek. “Ela, I’m so sorry.” Rilla looked past the girl half expecting to see Luella. “Where’s your mother?”
Ela looked down and began shaking her head. “She’s angry and I don’t want to be around her.” For the first time since she knew the Desners, Ela didn’t wait for an invitation to enter the apartment. She walked past Rilla as if in a trance.
“Have you called the doctor?” Rilla closed the door and stood behind a stoic Ela.
“No. Where’s Delia?” Ela turned to face Rilla.
Rilla wasn’t sure what had happened in the apartment above hers, but she knew it had left Ela in some type of shock. “Okay. I will call him. You can go in and play with Delia. She’s in her room.”
Rilla opened her front door, went across the small entry way of the apartment building, and dialed the communal phone. She and Delia used the same doctor as the Bauers, so she instructed the operator to connect her. After several clicks, and a buzzing sound, a muffled voice came through. “Hello?”
“Doctor Akers? This is Rilla Desner. Ela Bauer has just come down and told me her father has died.”
“Where is Mrs. Bauer?” In spite of the weak connection, Rilla could hear the concern in the man’s voice.
“She’s upstairs with – with the body.” Rilla bit her lower lip.
“I’ll be right over.” The doctor’s last statement was followed by a loud click, then silence.
Rilla hung the phone up, and looked up the stairs wondering if she should go check on Luella. Ela had said she was angry. Rilla couldn’t imagine why she would be angry and not grief stricken by her husband’s death. Deciding it was best to let Doctor Akers deal with what may very well be a hysterical woman, Rilla went back into her apartment.
Ela and Delia were sitting at the kitchen table, with two large cookies in front of them, sharing a glass of milk. “Delia, you know better than to get food without my permission.” Rilla didn’t want to chastise the child too severely and further traumatize Ela in the process.
“Mama, Ela is sad, and I know cookies make me feel better.” Delia looked at her friend with concern.
Rilla walked over and sat at the table across from Ela. “This once is fine Delia, but don’t make a habit out of it.” She reached across and put her hand over Ela’s small hand. “I’ve called the doctor, and he will be here shortly.” Rilla hesitate before continuing, not sure if this was the right time to pry. “Ela, why is your mother angry?”
Ela’s eyes, which had been transfixed on her glass of milk, shot up and she glared at Rilla. “I don’t know.”
Rilla leaned back into her chair, removing her hand from over Ela’s. Not wanting to seem confrontational, she softened her voice. “I think you do, and it’s okay to tell me. I won’t be angry.”
Ela took another bite of cookie, and after chewing it longer than necessary spoke so quietly Rilla had to lean forward to hear her. “She thinks I killed papa.”
Rilla gasped in spite of wanting to remain calm and not alarm Ela. “Why – why would she think that?”
Delia finished her milk and interrupted the intense exchange between Ela and her mother. “Mama, can I have more milk? I’m not done with my cookie, but I don’t have any more –”
“That’s fine, Delia. Get it out of the ice box.” Rilla was trying to maintain an even tone, but knew she sounded harsher than she intended. She broke eye contact with Ela, and looking at Delia, smiled. “Will you get mama a glass too please?”
Delia’s lower lip had begun to quiver, but her mother’s lighter tone brought a smile to her lips. “Sure.” She slid off the chair and walked over to the ice box.
Rilla turned her attention back to Ela. “Why does your mother think that, Ela?”
Ela put her half eaten cookie on the table. Plates had seemed unnecessary when the two girls had raided the cookie jar. “She hates me and blames me for him being sick.”
“I’m sure she doesn’t hate you El –” Rilla meant to reassure the girl, but Ela slammed her hand down on the table before Rilla could complete her sentence.
“No! She hates me, and I hate her, and that’s it!” Ela screamed the words with such venom Rilla found herself sliding her chair away from the table to put more distance between her and the enraged child.
“Delia, go to your room please. You can take your milk and another cookie with you.” This time, Rilla didn’t break eye contact with Ela as she spoke to her daughter.
“But mama, you said I can’t have food in my room, and you told me –” Delia stood with two full glasses of milk in her small hands.
“Delia – I know what I said, but today is special; so take the food in your room. I need to talk to Ela.” Rilla felt the heat rising in her neck as Ela glared at her.
Delia shrugged, put Rilla’s glass of milk on the table in front of her, and took her glass and cookie with her down the hall toward her room.
Rilla moved to the chair next to Ela. “I know your mother can be difficult, and I can only guess what the two of you have been going through since your father took ill.” Rilla cautiously put her hand on Ela’s forearm in an effort to reassure her. “You can stay here as long as you need to Ela.” Ela slammed her eyes shut, and began sobbing so intensely that her entire body shook. Rilla pulled the child to her stroked her hair, and gently rubbed her back. “Shhh. It’s okay. It’s going to be okay.” Rilla whispered.
Ela wrapped her arms around Rilla’s shoulders and continued to cry into the nook of the woman’s neck. “He’s dead, and she doesn’t care.” Rilla didn’t know what to say; so she continued to hold the small child and began slowly rocking her back and forth.
***
It had been nearly a year since Aurick Bauer had died from complications brought on by severe pneumonia. Eventually Ela did return to her mother’s apartment, and they had fallen into some semblance of normal day-to-day living. Luella had been kinder to Ela, after a stern lecture from Doctor Akers implying if she didn’t do right by her daughter she would be arrested on child neglect charges. This, accompanied by Luella’s need to be taken care of, leant itself to a half-hearted reconciliation between mother and daughter.
Ela knew her mother was only using her as a live-in servant, but had very little choice in the matter. She had no money of her own, and though Rilla had said she could stay with them as often as she wanted, her mother had once threatened Rilla with kidnapping charges when Ela stayed downstairs for more than a week.
&nb
sp; “You need to get a job.” Luella hadn’t spoken to Ela in nearly three days. The sound of her voice startled Ela and she nearly dropped the plate she was drying.
Ela wasn’t sure what her mother expected her to do, but the idea of being out of the house working and free of her mother appealed to Ela. “I could work at the Jensen Market.” Ela felt a flutter of hope she had all but forgotten existed.
“No. You’ll work for Mrs. Gerber.” Luella didn’t look at her daughter as she thumbed through the local newspaper.
Bertha Gerber was a plump woman in her late fifties who had several women working for her as maids. Ela had seen them coming and going from the large houses in the Kazimierz District of Krakow with their baskets and mops in hand.
“I’ll go see her in the morning.” Ela stretched to get the plate into the cabinet next to the sink.
Luella smiled. “Good. It will be such a relief to not have to watch over you every second of the day.”
Ela had learned to ignore her mother when she made comments fabricated in her imagination and not based in reality. The truth was Ela took care of her mother nearly twenty-four hours a day. Any semblance of a childhood had died with her father. Luella was needy and seemed incapable of even the simplest chore.
This was made painfully clear several months after her husband’s death. Ela was in school, and Luella was forced to go to the market on her own. After shopping for nearly an hour, she placed an overflowing basket of food at the register.
“Fifteen mark, ma’am,” the pasty faced clerk had said.
“Fifteen mark? I don’t have that.” Luella had become instantly incensed.
The clerk began to stammer, and looking around for his manager. “Ma’am – I can’t –”
“What can I get for this?” Luella had thrust two mark at the clerk’s face.
“Ah, the bread, cheese, and sausage.” His pasty complexion had turned a bright crimson.
“Fine. I don’t know why you had to make it so difficult.” She had gathered the three items, laid the money on the counter, and left a speechless clerk in her wake. That was the last time Luella went to the market.
Now, Ela finished the dishes and began folding the laundry she had washed earlier. “And you can just plan on not going to school anymore.” Luella had said it so casually that Ela thought she had misunderstood.
“What?” Ela put the half folded sheet over the back of the kitchen chair.
“I said since you’re getting a job now, you don’t need to go to school.” Luella glanced up at her daughter.
Ela took several deep breaths. “But I like school, and it’s the only time I get to see Delia.”
Luella snapped the paper shut. “Speaking of Delia, I don’t want you to see her or her whore mother anymore.”
Ela felt the familiar rage and resentment building in her. Her mother was unreasonable and selfish. Nothing Ela wanted mattered, and she felt trapped by this horrible, cold woman. “Don’t talk about them like that!”
Luella stood up, knocking the chair backwards. “Don’t you yell at me! I’ll talk about that whore and her bastard daughter anytime I want.”
Ela clenched her fist. “I hate you!” She turned and walked quickly down the hall and slammed her bedroom door. The tears began to flow, and she hated that her mother still mattered enough to make her cry. Ela flung herself on the bed and buried her face in her pillow. She wanted desperately to be free of her mother, but couldn’t see a way out of the dependency inherent to the child-parent relationship.
Ela sat up in her bed and wiped at her tear-streaked face. She would get the job with Mrs. Gerber, save her money, and leave her mother. The prospect of being on her own, of deciding what she wanted and getting it, was the first glimmer of hope Ela had since before her father became sick. A slight smile came to Ela’s lips as the hope of possibilities began to take root.
***
Nine years had passed since Ela’s father had died. The years immediately following his death were the most difficult for the girl. She and her mother fought constantly, and her time with the Desners was curtailed by her mother’s ignorance and selfishness. Ela was made to assume the responsibilities of an adult by the age of twelve when she began working for Mrs. Gerber.
With her twenty-first birthday only weeks away, Ela had made some semblance of a life for herself outside of her mother’s realm. Her work for Mrs. Gerber afforded her the opportunity to get out of what could be a stifling environment with her mother, and she used a portion of the money she made to frequent the local cafés and bars where she met people her own age.
The extra money had only come about within the past few months. After a particularly exhausting day cleaning houses, Ela came home and found her mother drunk on the sofa, a half empty bottle of an expensive Bordeaux beside her.
“Where did you get the money for this, mother?” Ela had asked in an accusing tone while holding the bottle in front of her mother’s face.
“I put a little away for a long time.” Luella’s speech was slightly slurred as she tried to sit up on the sofa.
Ela looked down at her mother and forcefully sat the bottle of wine down on the worn wooden table in front of the sofa. “I don’t believe you.”
Luella slowly pushed herself up off the sofa and stood toe-to-toe with her daughter. “Who do you think you are, girl?”
The smell of wine and cheese wafted over Ela as her mother swayed back and forth. “I’m the girl who keeps a roof over our heads and food in our bellies.” Ela took several steps back from her mother. “Now, again – where did you get the money for this?”
Luella bit her lower lip and a look of intense concentration came over her face. “Your father, God rest his soul, took care of me.”
Ela shook her head. “What are you talking about? Papa didn’t have anything.”
“You’re always wrong in the end, Ela.” Luella flopped back down on the sofa and reached for the empty glass of wine.
Ela quickly grabbed the glass and bottle. With a tremendous amount of self-control, she softened her tone. “I’ll pour you another glass, if you please tell me what you’re talking about.”
Luella’s eyes moved back and forth between Ela and the bottle of wine she held out in front of her. “Your father had a small death benefit with his company.” Seeing the anger flare in Ela’s eyes, Luella continued quickly. “I didn’t even know about it until two years ago.”
The rage surged through Ela and shot out from her chest to the hand she held the bottle of wine in. Before she could squelch the surge of energy, she hurled the bottle across the room. It shattered against the wall over her mother’s head, sending wine and glass everywhere.
“What did you do that for?” Luella screeched as she covered her head.
Ela’s breathing was rapid and her hands curled into fists at her side. “There have been times we barely made our rent, and the whole time you were sitting on this money, mother!” Ela closed the space between her and Luella, grabbed the woman by the shoulders and pulled her to her feet. “How much? How much money is it?”
Luella cringed. “Three mark a month.”
Ela pushed her mother back onto the sofa. “I’ve stayed with you because you’re my mother, though there were times when that wasn’t enough and I had to remind myself how much my father loved you. Despite all of your shortcomings, you loved him.” Ela sat down in the tattered chair across from her mother and stared at the woman, trying to feel anything other than bitterness and anger.
Luella sluggishly pulled herself off the couch and knelt in front of Ela. “I did love him. He was such a kind man.” She reached for Ela’s hand and felt the pang of sadness when her daughter moved her hand away. “I know I haven’t been a good mother.” Ela’s eyes widened. She had never heard her mother so much as hint at being anything other than the ideal parent. “I don’t know how to do things. I would be lost without you.”
Ela’s amazement quickly turned to suspicion. “Why are you saying this now?�
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Luella tentatively placed her hand on Ela’s knee and tears gathered in the corners of her eyes. “I don’t want to be alone.”
Ela had wanted this quiet moment with her mother for so long. It was finally here, yet it ended with Luella admitting there was nothing special about Ela. Anyone would do, as long as she wasn’t alone. This utterance of what Ela had always suspected left her feeling empty and sick inside. She felt the tears forming and fought to push them back. She loved her mother in the sickest way. It was the kind of love that leaves you always wanting, always looking for glimpses of kindness. Ela loved her mother not for who she actually was, but for the hope of who she might be.
Ela looked up at the flaking paint that hung from the ceiling and took a deep breath. “You’ll give me half of the three mark every month. You can keep the other half to do whatever it is you do, but the rest will go toward the household.” Ela looked at her mother, who continued to cry. “Do you understand?”
Luella sniffled and wiped at her face. “Yes, and you won’t leave me?”
Ela had considered the woman kneeling in front of her for several seconds before responding. “Not yet.”
In the months since the revelation about the money, and her mother admitting she was inadequate to manage her own life, she and Ela had come to an unspoken understanding. Ela would come and go as she pleased. Luella had even stopped harping on Ela’s relationship with Delia.
Ela walked toward the Café Gunther several blocks from her apartment. As she rounded the corner she couldn’t help but smile as she made eye contact with Delia. She and Delia had lived in the same apartment since they were children, and their friendship had endured a lot of hardships -- not the least of which was Luella’s scornful attitude toward Delia and Rilla. None of that mattered to Ela. Delia and Rilla had been safe havens for her as far back as she could remember and nothing would pull her away from them.
“You’re late.” Delia sat at a small table just outside the entrance to the café, a smile betraying her efforts to sound upset.
Ela: Forever (Waking Forever) Page 2
