The Penance Room

by Carol Coffey

  Mina’s thoughts are broken by something on the other side of the room. It is Wilfred. His face has gone bright red and he looks as though he cannot breathe. No one knows why the mention of the ship has frightened him but I feel that when Wilfred gets to tell his story, we will understand. Mina looks at him for a moment and continues.

  “Then the soldiers just walked away from us. One said ‘Goodbye to colonialists!’ in English and I understood. We climbed onto the ship which was already crowded. A woman there told me we would not leave until the next day because we were waiting on more people. No one seemed to be in charge so I found a bunk and lay there. Everywhere people were talking about going home but this was my home. I had been in Jakarta for more years than I had lived in Holland and, also, there was no one there now. My family had all died here and Holland didn’t seem home without them. I wondered what I would do there. I had no money and no place to stay. It will seem silly to say that a part of me wanted to return to the camp and work for my food. I was suddenly very afraid.

  “That evening, I stood and watched the sun setting over the ocean when three trucks screeched up, letting more men off to board the ship. Some of them were injured and I watched them help each other on board with pity and joy in my heart. The sun was still bright and I put my hand over my eyes. A man walking with crutches looked familiar to me and I squinted at him, trying to get a closer look. My mouth dropped open and I let out a scream. ‘Pieter! Pieter!’ My brother looked up at me and dropped to his knees. Someone helped him up and handed him his crutch. ‘Mina!’ he shouted as he climbed the stairs. I ran to meet my crippled brother halfway and when we finally reached each other we stopped more than two metres from each other and stared at our lovely faces on the crowded hallway. We both looked so different but I knew him. I knew my brother. I could see tears falling down his face at the very sight of me. I then ran to him and hugged him so tight because I was afraid he would soon disappear. He stood back from me.

  “‘Papa?’ I asked but he shook his head.

  “‘Dirk?’ he asked but he didn’t wait for an answer and hugged me again as I cried into his chest.

  “Neither of us were ready to find out how the people we loved had died. There were no bunks left so I brought my brother to my bunk which another Dutchwoman was holding for me. I helped my brother lie down on it and sat on the floor beside him. I looked at his damaged leg and worried that he was permanently crippled. I remember him looking sadly at me.

  “‘My leg will heal,’ he said to me in Dutch, ‘but, sister, I don’t think our hearts will.’”

  Mina’s lips begin to tremble and her eyes fill with tears. Penelope gives her a hankie and pats her back. Steve stops the tape and Li goes to organise coffee. Everybody looks sad and I can see Jimmy staring at Mina like he has never seen her before.

  While everyone has coffee, I sit by the window and notice Jeff Young pulling up in his truck. He has a cage on the back and comes smiling up the pathway with his hat as usual covering his narrow eyes.

  Kora is in the garden and I watch as she follows him to the back of the vehicle. She is smiling at something. It is rare to see Kora smile like that so I decide to follow them out and investigate. In a large cage, two black and white sheepdog pups are panting in the heat. Kora lifts one up and hugs it closely. My heart pounds a little. I don’t like dogs because I was bitten once when I was five.

  “Oh he’s gorgeous, mate!” Kora says to Jeff and she smiles at him the same way I saw Aishling smiling at Steve earlier.

  “Ya want him? Bitch had a large litter and these two are left. They’re good work dogs.”

  I gulp. Please say no, Kora, I am thinking.

  “Not sure I’ve much use for a sheep dog but might make a good pet. Gets lonely at my place at night. There’s been a few break-ins, ya know. Might be good protection.”

  I see Jeff move his lips as if he is going to say something but he decides not to and leans against the truck as he smiles shyly at Kora.

  “Maybe Emma would like the other one?” he says.

  I sigh heavily. I was afraid he would say that.

  “She’d love it, mate. She had a dog just like this once. I remember she was heart-broken when it died. She didn’t speak to me for weeks after . . . don’t know why . . . hmm . . .” Kora stops talking as if a painful memory has made its way to the front of her mind. She frowns and shrugs, as if unsure what exactly it was. “I’ll bring her in.”

  “Him, they’re both male,” he says, laughing.

  Everyone has returned from the garden and has taken refuge from the heat in the cool Penance Room. When Kora puts the dogs on the floor, I tense. Even though they are only pups I am afraid of being bitten. The dogs sense it and I hide behind Martin as they snarl at me which makes everyone in the room laugh.

  “I don’t think they like you, Martin,” Kora laughs but he doesn’t say anything.

  Only my mother and I notice that Mina has not eaten any cake or biscuits and has barely touched her coffee. She sits stony-faced waiting on the others to listen to the rest of her story. I see Penelope lean towards her but I can’t see what she is saying. Mina smiles and Penelope touches her face gently while Victoria touches Mina’s knee as she passes. I have never seen them interact with each other before.

  Steve returns from the front porch where he has been talking and laughing with Aishling. I didn’t go out to watch their conversation. I didn’t want to know what he was saying to her. Aishling, exhausted from her night’s work, goes to bed and Mina clears her throat once again and begins to speak.

  “We found out that our ship was sailing first to Sri Lanka and then on to Rotterdam. We all wondered what Europe would be like after the war but everyone agreed that it could not be much worse than where we had been. Each night Pieter would talk with the men on the deck while the women gathered in the sleeping areas to chat while they put the children to sleep. I remember feeling strange during these evenings and it was the first time I realised that I didn’t really belong anywhere.

  “Many of the women had lost children but most had at least one surviving child with them. On our first night together as a group I noticed the women being quiet when a woman who lost all three of her children came into the dorm. Her husband had also died and the women felt sorry for her as she would face old age childless. I could not stand for them to pity me so I decided not to mention my son to them. I have never been able to cope with pity. It was something I had no use for. I think that they must have thought me to be cold but I didn’t care about this. Some nights I would sit and stare at the bunk above me and wonder if Hope had survived and if so, where she was. I hoped she was all right and found myself praying that I would only hear news that she survived. If she died, I never wanted to know this.

  “One night Pieter came to my bunk very excited. He was able to walk a little better and had moved in with the men where he met Lars. When he brought me to meet him, it was strange. We had shared such personal moments at those gates where he watched me for weeks waiting to see my husband and watched me lose my child but our reunion was shy and awkward as if we were both embarrassed by the memory and wished to erase it. Over some weeks, we would walk the ship at night and talk only about the future. Lars wanted to open a bakery in Rotterdam where he still had family. The day before we arrived in Holland he asked me to marry him and I said yes. I saw no reason not to. It was suitable that we should marry. He knew I was now too old to have another child but he didn’t care. We had endured such an awful thing and I think we could only face a future with someone who understood this – although, you know, you may not believe it but we never spoke of it. But it was always there. The memory of Indonesia was always around us even if we didn’t give it words.

  “When we arrived in Rotterdam, things were not as we expected. All over Europe, damage from bombs could be seen. People were tired and angry. Some Dutch people didn’t welcome us as we thought they would. They called us colonialists. The only happy event was that almost two yea
rs after we arrived, a letter came in the local post office for me. I almost didn’t get it as it was addressed to Mina Halse but I was now Mina Jensen. Luckily, someone remembered my parents and remembered I had been married to Dirk Halse. It was from Jane and she had married a man from England and moved to Toronto. I could understand English but not to read it so much so I had to get some help. In the envelope there was a photo of Hope and it made me cry with happiness. She was a beautiful little girl with lots of curly hair and she was sitting on a not-real horse in a photograph studio. I remember thinking that she looked like Shirley Temple. I wrote back and we stayed in touch.

  “In the winter of 1947, two years after we arrived in Holland, Lars closed his bakery and we moved to another colony, to Australia. Pieter came with us and Lars’ brother who was also a baker and his wife Bertha. Together we took another long ship journey and I was glad to start in a new place. Pieter got work as an engineer with the mine so Lars and I came with him here to Broken Hill. His brother and wife stayed in Sydney where we had first arrived. Bertha had a sister there who could get them both work.

  “Lars and I opened a bakery and each day he would teach me how to bake. After a short time I was able to bake anything you wanted. I was no longer useless. My mother would have been proud. Pieter died almost twelve years after we first came here. He was only fifty-eight years old but I was thankful to God for giving my brother back to me for that time and they had been happy years where we ate and laughed together. It was like we returned to our childhood. Life seemed finally to be peaceful and we were thankful for everything that we had. You know, our lives in Holland had been rich and higher class and yet here I was up to my elbows in flour but we were happy. I am glad that Pieter had some happy years before he di–”

  Mina stops talking and touches the scar on her forehead. I can see her eyes fill with tears again.

  “You have to be thankful. That’s what I have learnt. Everywhere, people have hard times but you need to be happy where you can. Lars and I were never in love like Dirk and I. It was a different marriage. Not so passionate but love just the same. Every few months I got a letter from Jane and I watched Hope getting bigger and bigger. Something I had nurtured was growing in this world so it was not all for nothing. Something good came from something very bad. Lars died peacefully in his sleep which I am also glad about. He was not ill. We closed the shop one evening and we sat together listening to the radio. He said he was tired and so we went to bed early. When I woke up the next morning, he was cold but it looked as though he was just sleeping. I kissed him and covered up his cold arms. I sat there for a long time thinking of him, sending him off with good thoughts. This is important, you know. I never reopened the shop. I could not face it without him.

  “One year later I had to have my hip operated on and the next year an operation on my other hip. I had been lonely after Lars died but something else had changed. I became afraid to be alone and I started . . . I started hiding food in the house in case there was another war. I began to think about Jakarta but not about the happy years when I was young and rich. I thought about the war and everything that had happened. I had time to think of only bad memories and this was not good. I became afraid of – of Orientals and began to dream of them breaking into my house and stealing my food. In the morning after those dreams, I would worry that I was going mad. In the end I decided that I didn’t want to spend any more time alone and even though I am not yet seventy, I moved in here where there would always be someone to help. And here I am . . .”

  Mina stops talking and everyone looks up when she doesn’t go on, amazed at how abruptly her story ended. She senses that her audience are not entirely satisfied. She reddens slightly and knows there is something else they want to know.

  “I know that I still get afraid. I still think perhaps there will be no more food. Things change quickly. You have to be prepared but at least I am no longer alone.”

  When no one says anything, my mother who is tearful, stands up and hugs Mina.

  “Well done, Mina. That must have been so hard for you. I think I can speak for everyone here by saying that you are great to have come through everything. We are proud to call you a friend.”

  Mina smiles as Kora and Greta clap. Slowly everyone joins in – everyone except Wilfred who I know has heavy things on his mind. Jimmy stands awkwardly on his stick and wobbles slightly. As he passes Kora she offers to help him but he pulls abruptly away from her. As he passes Mina he puts his hand on her shoulder.

  “You’re all right, Mina,” he says.

  Martin nods in agreement and Iren stares at Mina with a strange look on her face. She stands and painfully walks over to her and we watch as she puts her hand into her pocket and takes out a sweet biscuit that she must have kept since morning tea. She hands it to Mina and mutters something in Hungarian before hobbling away, causing my mother to burst into tears.

  I have a sudden urge to get some air. I walk out of the house and make my way to Maria’s house. I have not seen her in a couple of days and am missing her company. The air is still hot and the sky is beginning to show long streaks of red that tells me tomorrow will be another hot day. When I reach Maria’s grandfather’s house there is a strange car outside. Maria is, as usual, sitting on the corner. I sit down beside her.

  “Who owns the car?” I write.

  “It’s my parents’. They’ve come to help Pop find a new home,” she replies.

  She looks sad so I know not to ask any more questions.

  “You look tired,” she says and I nod as we sit together and watch traffic pass. She leans towards me and puts her tiny hand in mine and together we sit watching the sun set in a blaze of red on the horizon.

  Chapter 13

  The following morning I stand in the shadows and watch Greta talking with Victoria while Penelope is in the shower. She is helping Victoria sort out her wardrobe.

  “What’s your favourite colour, Victoria?”

  “Penelope likes blue,” she replies.

  Greta smiles sadly at her and moves a bit closer. “Blue is nice but what is your favourite colour?”

  Victoria puts her hand to her throat as though she is being strangled. Greta pretends not to notice her nervousness and smooths down her blue striped uniform which complements her striking blue eyes.

  “My sister loves green but, me, I am a red sort of girl. I even have red pjs!” she informs Victoria who laughs nervously and keeps her hand over her throat.

  “Do you like red?” Greta asks her.

  Victoria lowers her eyes to the ground. “I don’t know.”

  Greta looks closer at Victoria.

  “Yes,” Victoria says shyly. She looks around the room quickly as though someone might be listening. “I like red.”

  Greta smiles at her and opens the wardrobe door wider.

  “Well, then,” she says peering into the collection of floral dresses, “we’ll have to get you some red clothes.”

  I leave them and walk to Martin’s room. He is talking with my mother about Steve. He looks at me the same way he does every time he sees me, an expression of suspicion and nervousness in one. You’d have thought he’d have got used to me by now.

  “I don’t know, Emma. I’ll think about it. Thought he only wanted to speak with foreigners. I was born here, ya know?”

  “Yeah, I know, but I think you’d have a good story to tell, and Jimmy too. You know, the experiences of first-generation Australians in comparison to their parents’?”

  “I wasn’t that popular with my parents,” he says and I watch my mother sigh.

  “Well, think about it, eh?” she says.

  Martin nods and looks at me. I sign “Yes” and he throws his eyes up to heaven.

  “I said I’d think about it,” he repeats.

  My mother frowns at him and walks quickly out of the room. “I heard you first time,” she says as she goes.

  “Satisfied?” he asks me and I nod and smile before following my mother downstairs to h
er office. My father is off work today and he is waiting for her.

  “What can I do to help?” he asks.

  My mother takes the seat facing him. She is biting the side of her mouth which I know is something she does when she is worried.

  “Do you think the residents telling their life stories to a stranger is a good idea?”

  My father shrugs and looks out the window. “What have they got to lose? I think it might help, even if they are upset at first. It’s sort of like counselling, isn’t it? The mine sometimes hires in a bloke when there’s an accident. He talks to the men about how they feel. I think it helps. Might even be able to help them put their lives in perspective.

  Li knocks and comes into the office. I can tell she has something on her mind. She sits down and looks at my mother.

  “Emma, I was thinking, perhaps we could offer Mina a job in the kitchen? She can bake and I could use the help. It might make her feel useful and have less time to think about the past.”

  My mother’s eyes brighten and she nods enthusiastically. “She’ll have to know it’s a real job offer. You heard her, she hates pity. I could lower her boarding rate or give her a small wage. I couldn’t afford much but I think it’s a great idea, Li. There’s just one thing . . .”

  “I know what you’re going to say. I’m hoping that spending time with me will show her that she has nothing to fear from Asians. It’s worth a try . . .”

  “That’s very charitable of you, Li,” my mother says, touching her forearm.

  “No. Not charitable. I love cake!” Li laughs.

  I am so happy that I feel my heart quicken and feel goose bumps moving up my arms. This is even better than I had hoped. I walk back to the lounge room and my mood darkens as I see Aishling agreeing to a date with Steve. I am hoping that it is just as a friend although I know this is silly and selfish. Aishling doesn’t go out much and I know that Steve is a nice man who might take her mind off looking for letters from home.