Mara

by Mara (v5. 0) (epub)

  I silently watched her and straightened up in my seat, my back firmly pressed against the back of the seat. I reminded myself that with every station we passed today we were another step closer.

  The rest of the journey, all the way to Roosendaal, we traveled in silence. This time the silence was not uncomfortable. I gazed out of the window and let the world pass by. Some of the pressure weighing me down slipped off my shoulders with every tree we passed, every pasture, every town and station. It wasn’t until we approached Roosendaal that we picked up our conversation again. Sister Olivia had nodded off and was softly snoring beside me. I gently nudged her elbow to wake her.

  ‘O, my goodness, we’re at Roosendaal already?’ she exclaimed. ‘Time flies when you’re asleep. Thank you for waking me up, Maria Klomp, if it wasn’t for you I would have missed my station. Would you mind if we continued our journey together?’

  This time she asked me, without referring to her Dear Lord, and I nodded gratefully, because I would be in need of her help. When we finally were seated on the train bound for Arnhem, I was so very grateful for Sister Olivia’s company that I opened up somewhat.

  ‘I would never have made it without your help!’

  It had been Sister Olivia who had made sure that my suitcases were loaded on the right train, she was the one who had navigated us through the station to the correct platform, and she had been the one who had located our train. I simply had blindly followed her, and had gratefully accepted every bit of help.

  The train we were on now was much like the earlier train, with this difference that I had the feeling this train had recently been cleaned. The scent of soft soap hung in the air and it reminded me of when I still lived on the farm. I had often helped Mother to wash the kitchen floor. We would crouch on our knees and Mother would give me a brush. I used to watch her carefully and tried to copy her. When we finished, with our knees wet and our hands slippery with soap, we would look at each other and smile contentedly. Even in the days of the influenza, when Father died, just like Grandpa and many other people we knew, we could still laugh at these moments. When did laughter disappear from our home? How could that have happened? Was it the farm? Had our laughter stayed behind on the farm the day we left? Maybe I would rediscover happiness when I returned to the farm? I shut my eyes tightly and tried to remember what the farm looked like. After our move my homesickness had lasted such a long time that I had not expected to forget any details ever, but now, as I tried to recollect and form a picture in my mind, many details remained blurry.

  The train rocked gently and made me nudge Sister Olivia again who, I couldn’t blame her, had fallen asleep already. The sudden movement awoke her with a start and her eyes veered toward me immediately.

  ‘Traveling is a rather monotonous endeavour, isn’t it?’ she said and she dejectedly regarded the scenery of the passing farmers fields over my shoulder.

  I nodded, but did not respond. Instead, I bent down to grab my bag in search of another sandwich to settle down my stomach, which was starting to act up again. Sister Olivia quietly looked on while I ate. I had the impression that her face was stuck inside the black and white coif she was wearing.

  ‘Is that not very uncomfortable?’ The words were out of my mouth before I realized it and I shocked myself. I could feel my cheeks turn hot. I quickly took another bite to hide my embarrassment.

  ‘This coif, you mean? Oh, no, you get used to it. At first it feels a bit odd, but after a while you don’t notice it anymore.’

  ‘To me it seems lonely and difficult to be a nun,’ I said when my mouth was empty again.

  ‘It was, sometimes.’ Sister Olivia gazed dreamily of to the side and then started to smile. ‘But I have received so many blessings in return.’

  I nodded and thought of what her life must be like. Maybe it was a nice thing to live in a monastery. No doubt, a place with only women must be better than any place. No male body to struggle with in loneliness, no shame, no fear.

  ‘Why did you become a nun?’

  It seemed that Sister Olivia did not hear my question, because she quietly stared over my shoulder out the window and gently rocked back and forth with the rhythm of the train. Then finally she answered.

  ‘It seemed like the best thing to do.’

  She looked at me for a moment and I saw in her eyes a glow of sadness, which took me by surprise.

  ‘I did not go for the right reasons, Maria, although I didn’t know it at the time. No, when I made my vows I was a young girl and I could not think of any other solution. It was an escape, really.’

  She smiled vaguely.

  ‘It’s a good thing that Mother Superior never knew this. She was a tough one. Are you considering something similar, Maria?’

  Her sudden, straightforward question startled me and I quickly turned my face to the window. It was as if Sister Olivia had read my mind. While I looked away, I gave her a safe answer.

  ‘I am a Protestant.’

  ‘Well, well!’ Sister Olivia laughed and clapped her hands. ‘Who would have thought? And all this time I thought… Your name is Maria after all…’ She clapped her hands together again and laughed cheerfully. A Protestant girl and a Catholic nun, well, well. This just goes to show that nothing will thwart our Dear Lord’s plans.’

  I nodded, but did not say that I disagreed. Her Dear Lord was no longer concerned with my life. Maybe it was even part of his cruel joke to bring the two of us together.

  The journey was monotonous and the nun, once again, fell asleep. I on the other hand took extreme care to stay awake, because the idea of being transported to an unknown and unwanted destination seemed awfully frightening to me. As we approached Arnhem, the landscape seemed to beckon me, as if I were welcomed home. The day had begun with rain, but now the rain had stopped and was replaced by blue skies and big cumulus clouds. Rays of sunlight dropped down from between the clouds like golden chains. They touched the earth and gave it a warm glow. I noticed a pair of geese keeping watch beside a narrow stream and I smiled when they bravely stood their ground despite the racket of the passing train. Along the train track stood some beautiful farmhouses and I spotted a single laundry line weighed down with whites. It reminded me of Grandma’s laundry day. Mondays were always laundry day. Whoever owned this line apparently did not bother with Grandma’s traditions.

  I wondered, would Auntie still keep to the old weekly schedule? There had been a specific time for everything, although I could not recall what exactly happened when. So many of my memories had either blurred or completely disappeared. Would I even be able to recognize Auntie when I finally would arrive in Velp? I felt anxious and closed my eyes in an attempt to recall what Auntie looked like, but I could not remember anything about her except for her Sunday bonnet. How was I supposed to find her in such a large train station? During our journey I had noticed passengers at all the different stations, all so confident and focused. They would take their luggage, greet their loved ones and walk out of the station laughing, talking, sometimes in silence, holding hands. How would I ever be able to recognize her amongst all those people? I bent down to grab my bag and placed it in my lap. I clenched the leather handles of the bag so tightly that the colour drained from my fingers, as I tried to remember my Auntie whom I had not seen in ten years. However hard I tried, I could recall nothing except for the bonnet.

  ‘We’re almost there, Maria.’

  I did not respond.

  Sister Olivia seemed to sense that something had changed in the last few minutes, for she placed her old hands over mine. Again I had to restrain myself and I held my fingers tightly together so she would not notice that I wanted nothing more than to pull my hands away from her well-meaning touch.

  ‘What are you afraid of?’

  While I considered this question, her old hands seemed to compel my fingers to be calm, and slowly my hands relaxed. Finally I whispered, ‘Everything’. How would Auntie respond? Would she welcome me or take me under her roof grudgingly?


  ‘Will there be someone waiting for you?’

  ‘Yes, but…’ I haven’t seen her for years. I’ve no idea who she is anymore.

  ‘Is it a family member, or a stranger?’ Sister Olivia persisted.

  ‘Family, my aunt.’ Who, I’m sure, is not at all eager to receive an unmarried, pregnant niece.

  ‘Listen, I’ll stay with you until you and your aunt have found each other.’

  ‘Thank you very much.’

  She did not ask for any more information and I did not volunteer any, but her kind words made me feel better. I was not alone. The old nun would stay with me until I had to face my aunt. Would she smile and embrace me? Or was she like the Reverend, outwardly kind, friendly in the train station, within earshot of others, but on the inside harsh and ugly?

  The train slowed down and I knew we were approaching Arnhem Station. One more transfer and then we would reach our destination. After the long journey behind us, this last little stretch to Velp wasn’t much. Once again we found a seat together at a window. We were both tired and stared out window in silence. Much too soon the train stopped again.

  For the last time, I helped Sister Olivia step out of the train, and one last time she made sure we found our suitcases. Then, there we were, standing at the end of our journey, our luggage standing between us. I looked about me, searching, but I did not really know what to do or what to expect. Then I saw her.

  ‘Auntie Be, here I am!’ I called out to her, despite the doubt I felt. But the woman who was walking along the train and looked hesitantly into each compartment, looked up and smiled. For a moment I forgot about my anxiety and I moved towards her, but as we approached each other I felt tense and I stood still, uncertain. So this was it, my destination. All of a sudden I wanted to turn around and run away, to a place where nobody would see me and no one could find me.

  ‘Maria, is it really you? Of course it is, you look like Anna.’ She grabbed both my hands and looked at me with a kind smile. It made her round cheeks even rounder, and they seemed to almost touch her eyelashes.

  I stared back at her, but could not speak a word. In my mind images of Mother and Auntie whirled around until they blended into one. They looked very much alike indeed. Auntie Be was several years older than Mother, but I thought she looked much younger. She had a sparkle in her eyes and crows’ feet around her mouth. She was so very different from Mother. It was as if I was looking at a lively version of my mother. As if my mother herself was nothing but a portrait on a canvas. The colors were perfect and all the details were right, but the life, the sparkle could not be captured in the canvas.

  Of course there were differences too. Mother was a slight woman, and now that I saw Auntie, I realized that Mother was also a pale woman. A woman with soft hands, who always stayed in doors. Not Auntie. She had a healthy color on her cheeks, and the hands that were holding mine were calloused and strong. With a shock I realized that Mother’s hands used to feel the same way. Strong, damaged and rough, but also warm and friendly. Strong enough to hold me up when I fell.

  Auntie Be took my arm and pulled me toward my suitcases. Sister Olivia was still there, waiting. She had a smile on her face and she nodded encouragingly toward me. I introduced her to my aunt and they chatted for a little while.

  ‘Goodbye, my dear.’ The time had come to say our farewells. The nun embraced me and I smelled her peppermint-scented breath, and I could feel how her stiff nun’s coif rubbed my hair. I would never forget the last time my mother embraced me that way.

  It was the winter of the year I turned twelve, a very cold winter. There was a layer of ice in the ditches and I wanted to go skating so badly. Nobody had forbidden me to do so, but I was well aware that it was only because I had not asked for permission. I knew that if I wanted to go skating, I had to do it in secret. Late in the afternoon I sneaked out of the house and met up with Aleide, the church’s caretaker’s wife. I had convinced her that I had permission to go and she had promised me the use of her granddaughter’s skates. She arrived at the agreed location on time, but did not have the time to stay and watch.

  ‘You’ll be careful now, won’t you? Where is your mother?’ I just nodded and mumbled a vague excuse, but Aleide paid no notice to it in her haste. She returned home and I tied on the skates. It had been a long time since I had skated last. It had been on the farm, but I did not want to think about that. Now, as the day was drawing to a close and twilight set in, it was just me on the ice and no one else. I was as free as a bird!

  I’ll never forget the sudden sound of ice cracking and the icy cold of the water. From one moment to the next the ice gave way under my feet and I was soaked. I managed, with much difficulty, to climb out of the icy water and I stood shivering and dripping at the edge of the water. Then it dawned on me that I would have to confess my secret. There was no way I could get away with this unnoticed. Despite the cold, which took hold of my whole body, I took my time walking home. I had slung the skates over my shoulders, laces tied together, and while I considered what might happen as a result of my ice skating escapade, the skates seemed to weigh more and more with each step I took.

  I arrived in our street and headed for the manse. There was still light in the study and I grew hopeful. Would there be a chance that I could deceive him? Maybe, if Mother cooperated. I took the back door and opened it as quietly as I possibly could. It wasn’t quietly enough though. Mother had heard me and was at the back door within moments. She reprimanded me softly and at the same time hugged me so tight. She pulled me into the kitchen and had me sit close to the stove where it was nice and warm. Then she stripped me down and wrapped me into a thick blanket. She held me tight again and pulled me onto her lap. She talked in soft whispers, worriedly enquiring if I was all right. Then she was silent and I quietly sat with her, listening to her heartbeat underneath my ear, pressed against her bosom. I savored her warm embrace. I had missed her so much. At that moment I was absolutely convinced that all would turn out well. Nothing was further from the truth.

  ‘Will I see you again sometime?’ The words left my mouth like a fleeting breath, but the nun had understood and embraced me once more. ‘Maybe. If it is our Dear Lord’s will. Maybe.’

  She let go and turned to leave. It seemed as if saying goodbye was not easy for her either. I looked at the slender woman wearing her black habit and I pretended to smile. It was better this way. It’s no good placing too much value on relationships.

  The nun embraced me yet again and I could feel how she slipped something into my pocket. She whispered a quick ‘all the best to you’ in my ear and that was that.

  My silent ‘goodbye’ accompanied her as she walked away. I watched her as she walked toward another nun, younger, who welcomed her warmly. I kept watching until my view was blocked by a group of people assembling beside one of the trains.

  I checked my pocket and found a small, tightly folded piece of paper. I unfolded it and saw her name and address. Sister Olivia’s home was in Amsterdam. What strange combination of circumstances had brought us together that day?

  4

  ‘Come along, Maria. You must be so tired.’ Auntie broke the silence and I quickly replaced the piece of paper in my pocket. I would keep it safe, although I suspected I would never see Sister Olivia again. I might write to her.

  Auntie picked up my suitcases, and all I needed to carry was my bag. I felt guilty to let her carry my cases but I didn’t offer to take them from her. The sleepless night and the exhausting journey had taken their toll and I feared I would collapse, suitcases and all, if I were to carry them. We left the crowded station hall where people kept coming and going. Auntie lead the way, checking often to make sure I kept up.

  ‘The wagon is just a little ways further. You think you can make it?’ My exhaustion must have been obvious to her, but I nodded, determined to follow. We followed a busy road to a large square and arrived at Auntie’s wagon. A large brown dog sat beside the wagon and it walked up with wagging tail
to greet Auntie. She hoisted the suitcases over the side of the wagon while the dog circled at her legs. It didn’t seem to bother her at all and she deftly avoided the dog each time. She took the bag from me and threw it also into the back of the wagon. Then she called the dog and motioned me to come closer.

  She took my hand and held it at the dog’s nose. ‘This is Maria. You’ll have to be kind to her.’

  When the dog gave a short bark, I quickly pulled my hand away from his nose and I stroked him between the ears.

  ‘Shall we go?’ Auntie asked. I nodded gratefully. The sooner the better, I thought. I knew we would have quite a ride ahead of us yet with the wagon. I walked around to the other side and climbed on. Auntie was seated already and patted the seat beside her invitingly. The dog jumped on the wagon and found a spot with the luggage, and we could depart. The city was crowded and Auntie seemed to need all her attention to drive. My thoughts moved on ahead, towards the farm of my youth and the new life that awaited me.

  As we approached the farm I started to wonder what it was exactly that my mother – or the Reverend for that matter - had written in the letter to Auntie. If had been the Reverend, I could well guess what kind of a letter it was: your sister’s daughter has lost her virginity to some bum and is now expecting a bastard. We want her to live with you for now. Period.

  I could hardly imagine that Mother had written the letter. She had not written any in all these years because the Reverend did not allow her to have contact with her sister. But if she had written this time, I could not begin to imagine what the letter would be about. What did she know of it after all?

  ‘Do you think you can tell me what the matter is, or would you rather not talk about it?’

  I carefully considered her words. So carefully that, had they been objects I would have taken them in my hands and looked at them from every angle to see where the catches were and what possibilities there were. I was silent for a long time as I considered her question. She allowed me the freedom to not discuss it, an easy way out. I wouldn’t have to talk about my current sad circumstances. On the other hand, if I did answer her, I would find out exactly what she knew about my situation. I realized that this would either make me feel more at ease with her, or the complete opposite. How did Auntie see me? As an innocent child? As a careless young woman? As an innocent virgin?