‘Auntie, please help me!’
‘I’ll do my best, Maria, but I can’t give you much hope.’ Auntie shook her head and left, closing the door behind her.
I watched her leave as I lay in bed.
Mara. Mara. In my head I sang a lament for the little girl that I had been allowed to hold in my arms for only a short while. The child that I had carried with me for nine months. I remembered the hatred I had felt from the very first moment, the denial, the revulsion, and I felt the guilt weighing down on me. Had I not deserved this? Every moment of her life I had cursed her. Only much later, at that time when Auntie had made me really feel, had I realized that a child was growing within me, my child, my own flesh and blood.
Out of habit I placed my hand on my stomach and I remembered the light kicking that had been annoying at first and later on became reassuringly familiar. Now my stomach was flat and empty, life was no longer in it, the contact we used to have had been severed as abruptly as the umbilical chord that used to bind us together.
I thought of all the times that I had sat with my hand on my stomach, simply savoring in quiet amazement this connection with my baby. Finally I had realized that a light shines brighter in the darkness than during the daytime. I had learned that something beautiful can come from something evil, and I had slowly started to accept the fact that I was going to have a child. Suddenly I saw her eyes before me, focusing solely on me, declaring me a mother.
And now I was childless. A childless mother.
A wail passed my lips and pierced through the silence. I screamed until I had no breath left. A sharp stabbing pain in my breasts warned me of what was going to happen and I wrapped my arms tightly around me. The wrappings around me were meant to slow down the milk flow, suppress its supply. How precious were those few moments that she lay in my arms and eagerly filled her tummy. And now it was all flowing away for nothing.
Then, with sudden fury, I threw back the blankets, pulled up my nightgown and yanked off the cloths. I would let the milk flow freely over my body. I would in no way willingly remove my daughter from my life. I would allow my milk the freedom to flow. And who knows, maybe Auntie would find my child before my milk dried up. Maybe I would be able to hold her at my breast again today, or this week.
I left the blanket where it had fallen, even though I got colder and colder as a draft blew over my damp clothes. What did it matter anyway. I turned my head to the window and could just see the top of the oak tree in the yard as its branches moved gently in the breeze. I thought of its young leaves. It made me think of nests built in trees, of birth. And of loss.
I heard a stumbling on the stairs and I knew Auntie Be was coming up. She was probably coming to bring me a cup of sweet tea, or a bowl of broth, or a small bowl of dried apple pieces sprinkled with sugar. I stubbornly refused to turn my head in her direction. Why would I? What would I see in her face?
‘Maria.’ Her voice was muted behind the door. Auntie knocked again, but I had no strength left to answer her and continued to gaze out the window. Finally I heard a soft creaking sound and imagined how she’d be peeking around the corner carefully, afraid to wake me up.
‘Maria, are you awake?’
I ignored her in silence and I banned her presence from my mind. I looked at the sky, the oak tree, the branches and the wind. Where had they taken my child? Had the wind swept her off to a faraway place, or was she still close by and could I run into her in the streets?
‘Maria, you’ll catch a cold that way.’ She moved quickly, closed the door, and hurried over. I smelled the aroma of chicken soup, and I heard the sound of a bowl being put on down, and then I felt her soft hands.
‘You’ll catch a cold, please my child, look after yourself.’
What good is it to me to be healthy?
She pulled the blanket back over my body and I realized suddenly how cold I had become. My damp undershirt and my nightgown were icy cold and my skin was covered in goosebumps. Auntie was busy fussing already and pulled a clean nightgown from the closet.
‘You put this on now, and I’ll give you some clean sheets, my dear.’
She handed me a clean undershirt and nightgown and hurried toward the door to leave. ‘Will you manage with that on your own?’ she asked quickly before she opened the door.
I nodded morosely, and she was gone.
Listlessly I opened up the buttons of my wet nightgown and laboriously struggled out of it. After that came the undershirt. My nipples were stiff with cold and I knew that no milk would flow now. I felt a pain in my breasts however, that was just about unbearable. All this food for my baby girl, so much, and all of it wasted. I wasn’t there for her to offer it.
I was just working on the last few buttons when Auntie returned.
‘I brought you an extra blanket. You mustn’t catch a cold or end up with pneumonia.’
I nodded, although I really couldn’t care less. Auntie helped me out of the bed and onto the chair beside the closet. She quickly stripped the wet bedding off the mattress and briskly made the bed again.
‘Now, back in bed with you, quickly.’
I realized I was shivering and was grateful that I could lean on her as she helped me back to the bed. My feet were numb and my fingers were stiff with cold.
Auntie fluffed up the pillows behind my back and had me sit down in the bed. Then she pulled the blankets up to my chin.
‘And now you’re going to enjoy a bit of soup, it’ll perk you up, you’ll see.’
Auntie fed me chicken soup and I ate obediently while I listlessly sat in bed. Only my face showed above the blankets and I slowly felt the soup warming me from the inside. The thick blankets did the rest.
‘Reijer came again today to ask how you are doing.’
I swallowed a spoonful of soup and waited for the next spoonful. ‘Why didn’t he come sooner, and why didn’t he stop them from taken her? Or did he know about it too?’
‘I think he knew about it.’
Another spoonful. I burnt my tongue, but suppressed the pain.
‘So he just came to gloat over me?’
‘Maria.’ Auntie spoke no further, but patiently fed me the remainder of the soup. I was left to my own reflections and they swung back and forth between the present and the past, between love and hate, between holding in my arms and yearning for.
Mien came again and she examined me. I meekly let her. I no longer cared that she touched my body with her hands. It wasn’t important. The only important thing was for me to find my child back, so I hung onto Mien’s arm and begged her for information.
‘You’re sixteen, Maria. You can’t expect anyone to allow you to raise the child yourself. No one would ask that of you, and besides, you don’t have a husband to support you. The shame of it. Think of the child!’
‘What about the child? She belongs with me. I am her mother, I’m all she needs.’
‘What would a child do without a father? Be glad that she now is part of a family where she’ll have a mother and a father. She won’t grow up with the shame of a fatherless family. Think of your child.’
I was silent. What could I say in response to this? I tried to follow Mien’s reasoning and understand why she was being so harsh, but I couldn’t. Didn’t she realize that every father was a possible monster to a child that wasn’t his? Didn’t she know that it was better to be the child of a fallen mother than of a stepfather?
‘I want her back. I can offer her a safe and loving home.’
‘No, you can’t.’ Mien’s voice was determined and she had placed her hands firmly on her hips.
‘Believe me when I tell you that she’s found a good home. Your own father has been involved and don’t you think he’d know? She’s now with a family in one of his former congregations.’
Her words provoked a thundering roar in my ears. At first all I could hear was a thumping noise on the inside of my head and it seemed to roar upwards and became louder and louder. I wanted to slap my ears to banish the
noise, but I knew it would make no difference. Mien’s movements seemed to slow down and blurred out of focus and I closed my eyes in an attempt to banish her words, but they only hit home harder. The Reverend. The Reverend. First he had planted her life in me against my will, and now he had taken her from me, against my will.
Slowly my hearing returned and I stared at Mien with shocked, wide open eyes.
‘Who better to ask than your father, after all?’ Mien smiled, her rosy cheeks round as apples beneath her eyes.
‘I wrote him immediately and of course he was willing to find a family. I have no doubt whatsoever that your little girl has found a good home. Doesn’t that make you feel better?’
NO!
Mien gave me an encouraging nod, took my hand and squeezed it softly. Then she rose and placed her things back in her basket.
‘You’ll get over it, you’ll see. She won’t be a bastard, Maria, and you won’t be a disgraced woman.’ I closed my eyes and licked my lips.
‘Helène is a fallen woman, Maria.’ The words were always spoken in a whisper and Mother would look nervously over her shoulder, afraid someone may have overheard.
‘Did you ever see her little boy?’ She waited a moment and continued when I nodded.
‘He is a bastard.’
I didn’t know what a bastard was, but judging the tone of Mother’s voice, I could hear that it must be something horrible. I didn’t understand why though, for the little boy holding Helène’s hand looked very cute, with his round cheeks and blonde hair.
‘Never become like her, child. Women like her…’ Mother spat on the ground, something she never did. Slowly we continued down the road. Helène was on the same road, headed our way and Mother steered us to the middle of the road, so we could take a wide birth around the woman and her boy. I didn’t know where to look. My eyes darted round until they rested on Helène. I looked at her intently and decided she looked cheerful. She was always dressed in colorful clothes and her cheeks were rosy. Today was no different. With a shock I noticed that she smiled and winked at me. She smiled at me! I quickly looked away, afraid I’d be contaminated and would turn into a bastard.
‘The people who came to pick her up seemed really friendly. Your father wrote to me that they were unable to have children of their own and that they were overjoyed with this arrangement. It is the best for everyone concerned, Maria.’
‘Not for me.’ I hadn’t realized that I spoke the words out loud, but Mien responded immediately.
‘For you too. You’ll find a husband, you’ll marry and have more children. This wasn’t your one and only chance, Maria.’
Didn’t she understand that I didn’t want that at all? That my body belonged to no man, that I didn’t wish for marriage and more children, but only for my child? The child I had delivered after so much pain?
I let Mien leave without saying goodbye to her. My thoughts kept coming back to those few words she had spoken. Your father. Your father. Your father. My child was gone, given away to a family only the Reverend knew and I was under no illusion that he would ever tell me who they were and where they lived.
I faced the window and looked at the oak branch that moved slowly in the wind. My last hope just burnt to ashes and was carried away on the wind of truth. Unreachable.
‘Did you know about it, Auntie, did you give her the address?’
‘Your parents’ address? Yes, of course.’
‘So you knew?’
‘I thought that it was what you wanted, Maria.’
‘Then why did I have to love her?’ My voice cracked when I remembered the moment I could feel her, my hand on my stomach, a short moment of contact.
‘It isn’t good to hate.’
‘Now I hate all the more.’
Auntie was silent, we both were. She patiently offered me a bowl of soup, a spoon, and a napkin. In silence I started to eat.
‘Maria.’ Auntie began, then stopped, and began again. ‘Maria, if I had known…’
She stopped and I didn’t ask further. What use was regret to me?
I finished my soup and Auntie took the dishes from me. She kissed me on my forehead, bade me good-day and left my room. I refused to answer her and I turned my head away from her kiss. When the door closed behind her I lay down again to look out the window.
I saw clouds, thick gray clouds and I knew it wouldn’t be long for the rain to come. I closed my eyes and I dreamed that I was blown away with the ashes of an incinerated body. I flew tumbling through the air. I grasped around me, trying to catch as much of the ashes as I could, trying to make something new of it. I was looking for new hope. My eyes swept over the fields I flew by, but because the wind blew me so fast I wasn’t able to see anything clearly. All I saw were vague black dots where cows stood, gleaming mirrors where there was water, but no baby anywhere. The distance was too great. And she was too small.
I shouted and stretched out my arms. I kept searching until I was blinded by a thick cloud of dust. I stopped tumbling in the air and fell straight down. The earth rapidly came closer. The wind whistled in my ears and pulled at my clothes that were flapping about me. I closed my eyes and resignedly waited for death.
When I woke up, the first thing I noticed was the empty space where the cradle had been. I knew that there was nothing left now that could remind me of the existence of my child. Everything was gone, thoroughly removed. Pulled out like a weed.
My body was young and strong, and after a few days already I felt strong enough to come out of bed.
Auntie Be took me by the arm and carefully guided me to the kitchen, while keeping a close eye on me with every step I took.
‘Here, sit down now, girl.’ She gently pushed me in Grandpa’s chair and I carefully lowered myself.
‘How are you feeling?’
‘Fine.’ My breath came in short bursts and my voice was hoarse.
‘In a few more days I’ll feel like my old self again.’
Auntie nodded. She turned and walked to the teapot simmering on the stove.
‘Would you like some tea?’
‘I’d love some, Auntie.’
I didn’t know what else to say, words between us had become pointless. Just the sound of my voice was an accusation, no matter what words came out. She placed the tea beside me and sat down in silence at the table. I looked about me and it was as if I saw everything for the very first time. The pots on the shelf, the little bundles of dried herbs hanging of the beams, one of Grandma’s embroideries. The embroidery was of some wise words I never understood as a child, but I knew the meaning of them only too well now. Do unto others, as you would have them do unto you. But was there anyone in my surroundings who had taken these words to heart? Maybe I should also stop conforming to other peoples’ wishes, but simply do what I wanted and no longer obey those who considered themselves to have authority over me.
We sat together in silence and I looked round me, drank my tea and thought things over. Every now and then I would glance Auntie’s way and to me it seemed as if she had shrunk, shriveled up. She sat quietly and lonely at the table with the six chairs. But not lonely enough.
How was it possible that this woman had collaborated in this betrayal? I had grown to love her, she had slowly started to fill the hole left behind by my mother as she had withdrawn herself more and more over the years. So, again I felt emptiness, such bitter emptiness.
‘The tea was nice, Auntie.’ I reached for the newspaper that was on the table and pulled it toward me. I started to read, ignoring Auntie, but the words on the paper didn’t interest me much. I read about a tramp who had been taken into custody, I read about the growing unemployment and about people in financial trouble, but how important could money be compared to the love I had for my child?
As I read, Auntie pottered about in the kitchen. I suspected she’d probably like to talk to me if I would give her the chance, but I kept reading, ignoring her presence. In the end she left the kitchen and I could hear her wooden shoes cli
p-clop through the attached barn. She would find comfort with her cows and she would have no shortage of other things to keep her occupied after that.
Now that Auntie had left I could close the paper, and I stared out the kitchen window without seeing anything. My breasts hurt and I could feel moisture escaping. Reluctantly I rose, slowly. I had to get back to bed. Just then Auntie returned to the kitchen.
‘I’ll walk with you.’
Auntie came toward me and hooked her arm solidly into mine. She smiled at me. I looked at her in silence and clenched my teeth hard together, because inside my head echoed all the words and accusations I wanted to shout at her. But not a word crossed my lips, and her eyes told me this may have been the harshest accusation of all.
17
Seven days passed in a whirl of thoughts and dreams. I slept many hours of the day, and when I was awake, all I could think of was Mara. Each day my body ached less, my breasts were less full and the pressure became less as my milk dried up. But every now and then I still felt the, by now so familiar tingling sensation and I still regularly had to change my undershirt because the milk had started to flow again. I cherished every stain and wished the milk could keep coming, so I could feed her when I would have her back.
Auntie looked after me very well. She was kind as always and baked something special for me almost daily. The meals were nourishing and substantial, but I often pushed my plate away as soon as she had left the room. We didn’t speak.
Auntie tried, but I couldn’t find any words to say to her. Every word I thought of got tangled up in hatred and I couldn’t get it out of my mouth. She had let me down so very much and there was nothing left of the easy bond we used to have. I also couldn’t think of Reijer without feeling betrayed by him, and every time Auntie told me that he had asked about me, I would turn my head away, close my eyes to lock them both out.
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