Mara (13 page)

‘I want to do something. You can’t expect me to sit still and just sit around for thirty days or maybe even more.’

‘Then stay in and do some needlework,’ Auntie suggested.

I shook my head.

‘The weather is so beautiful, please let me help with the work outside.’

‘I don’t think it’s a good idea…’

‘You can help me.’ Reverend Bosch interrupted, and I send him an look filled with annoyance. Only after several seconds it dawned on me what he had said.

This was not at all what I had meant.

‘What could she help you with?’ Auntie asked in my stead.

‘I’m going to chop some firewood. Maria can help me stack them up.’

Auntie nodded thoughtfully, I wanted to change my mind and thank him kindly for the honor, but Auntie was now smiling in agreement.

‘That’s a very good idea, excellent.’ She nodded toward Reverend Bosch and he put his cap on with an exaggerated gesture.

‘Are you coming, Maria?’

No, I’d rather not.

But slowly I walked to the door and slipped into my wooden shoes. Auntie had taken my coat and helped me in it. I looked at the ground, and then at my hands as I buttoned up my coat. The coat was tight around my stomach, even when I stood straight up and held my breath.

Reluctantly I shuffled after Reverend Bosch towards the stables where Auntie had a pile of wood that needed to be chopped. The blocks of wood were large and Auntie had commented once how difficult it was for her to split them. It dawned on me that normally Auntie would call in a neighbor or a hired hand for the heavier tasks, something she couldn’t do now because I stayed with her. Apparently Reverend Bosch had offered his assistance.

The stables were just about as cold as the outside, and our breath created little clouds in the air.

‘If you’ll stack the wood, I’ll chop.’

I nodded and watched how the Reverend placed a block of wood on the chopping block and hit it with his ax. It didn’t take long for the wood to split, and the Reverend grabbed a new block. I crouched down and picked up the two smaller blocks. With some effort I raised myself and brought the two pieces over to the wall where a small supply of wood was still piled up. I neatly stacked the two new pieces with the rest and returned to the chopping block. There were by now four more pieces of wood on the floor and the Reverend was already on the next one.

The ax struck with a crack.

And again.

Another two pieces of wood were on the floor.

I couldn’t work as fast as that. I couldn’t bend down, so I had to kneel down, and when I stood up my knees creaked and it took me a moment to find my balance. Nonetheless I picked up as many pieces as I could each time and I didn’t complain. It clearly didn’t go fast enough, for after a few minutes the Reverend struck the ax onto the chopping block and he bent down with me to gather blocks of wood in his arms. Within seconds he had cleared them and then he continued chopping.

‘Thank you.’

He drew a sharp breath and struck his ax hard.

He split a new block in two.

He probably hadn’t heard me at all.

The rest of the morning we worked in silence. The only sounds were the falling pieces of wood and the striking of the ax. I soon felt the sweat on my forehead and I felt the extra weight I carried with each step I took.

‘That was the last one,’ the Reverend said while he wiped the sweat off his face with his sleeve. As quick as my feet could carry me I returned from the neat stack along the wall to the chopping block where a whole pile of wood still awaited me. I carefully picked up as many pieces as I could hold and stood up. For a moment I stood unsteadily, but then I continued and returned to the stack at wall.

‘I didn’t realize it was this heavy for you.’ Reverend Bosch all of a sudden stood behind me and obligingly stretched out his arms to take the bunch of wood from me. ‘Please, let me do this.’

With a shriek I suddenly dropped all the wood pieces. Gasping for air I looked from the chaos at my feet to the Reverend and back again. But it wasn’t him.

I have to punish you, Maria.

No, it wasn’t him, not here. This was someone else.

I hid my face in my hands and closed my eyes.

‘Are you all right, Maria?’

I had difficulty breathing.

Yes. I was all right.

‘Yes, Reverend. I’m all right. I’m just fine. I’m only tired.’
And scared. Go away and leave me alone.

‘Come and sit down for a moment, right here.’ He placed his hand on my shoulder and I winced, jerked to the left, and the hand fell away. When I looked up I saw a bewildered look on his face.

‘I’m sorry.’

I walked toward the chopping block and sat down without giving him another look. My breathing was still unsteady and I slowly counted to ten to calm myself down. In the meantime the Reverend stacked all the wood that I had dropped on the floor. Then he walked toward me.

I wrapped my arms about me and waited.

He sat down on his haunches in front of me and looked at me.

‘I didn’t mean to startle you, Maria.’

I shook my head, but didn’t speak a word. He didn’t say anything else though, so in the end I broke the silence.

‘You don’t need to apologize, Reverend. I was tired, I got startled and dropped the wood. That’s not your fault.’

‘Yet, I feel responsible.’

‘You shouldn’t.’ Not for a woman like me.

Reverend Bosch quietly looked down and traced a line with his finger in the thin layer of dust and sand on the floor. Then he made another line. It looked like he randomly made lines, until I noticed that they were letters. I tried to read what they said, but he erased them with his hand and stood up.

He walked to the door and I thought he was going to leave without looking back. But he didn’t. He turned around and walked back to me.

‘I would like it if you would call me by my first name.’

With a shock I jerked up my head.

‘Really. Every time you call me ‘Reverend’ I feel…’

I shook my head. ‘I can’t do that.’

‘I’m not that old. And you’re not…’

‘I’m not what?’

‘You’re not a member of my congregation.’ He turned red and lowered his eyes.

I smiled briefly. Would he want that, though? An unmarried, pregnant woman in his church?

‘I don’t think it’s a good idea.’

I stood and beat the wood shavings off me. As we walked back to the farmhouse I thought about his suggestion, and I realized that I couldn’t even remember his name. He walked behind me and when we got to the door he caught up with me.

‘Your aunt also calls me Reijer.’

I shrugged my shoulder and shook my head. That’s what it was, Reijer.

‘I would like to be a friend to you, and that is impossible if you call me Reverend. Please think about it.’

‘I will.’ Reverend. Reijer.

15

F
ebruary. It’s a week earlier than I had expected, but I know the time has come, though I haven’t told Auntie yet. The pains come and go and I’m wondering how much more excruciating it can possibly get. I try to stay calm and do my chores, and it works well in between the contractions. I refuse to let fear take over my thoughts and I also refuse to think about what’s ahead. My concern is not so much the delivery itself, but the child that’s coming. It is unavoidable now, even though I tried to deny it all these months.

It’s important to me that I think about other things, so I tidied my room, straightened out the bed linen, laid out clean linen. And all this time I didn’t say a word to Auntie.

I didn’t want to tell Auntie too soon and I just told her I was tired and would lie down for a little while. She looked at me with concern for a moment, but then she nodded and I disappeared to my room. I pulled off the dress that we had made together and put on my nightgown. Then I crawled into the large bed. The pains came and went in waves, and l searched for a comfortable position.

It was as if the rest of the world ceased to exist, it was like a fog, so distant. I closed my eyes and looked inward, all that existed was pain and rest, pain and rest. My breath became hurried, until I focused more and I inhaled and exhaled slowly and deeply. Mien had told me something about this, but at the moment I couldn’t remember what it was. The only thing that mattered was that I kept my teeth clenched tight together so no one would notice what was happening to me. My shame must not become known beyond this household, and for as long as no one knew, there was still the possibility it wasn’t actually true. I couldn’t event tell Mother, he had forbidden it.

‘Mother.’

There was no answer so I walked in. Mother was probably pouring the tea, that’s why she hadn’t opened the door.

I stepped over the threshold, but the kitchen was awfully quiet.

‘Mother?’

I hesitated and contemplated where she could be. Then the idea came to me that she probably was in the outhouse, that was very likely. I simply had to wait for a few minutes. I pulled out a chair and sat down, and I let my legs swing cheerfully back and forth in a rhythm all of my own design. The ribbons in my stockings fluttered in the breeze I created and I laughed.

The time passed and again I started to feel concerned.

‘Mother?’

I rose up from the chair and walked about the kitchen. Where could I look? There were many places in the house where I wasn’t allowed to go. In fact, I was only permitted to enter the kitchen and the room at the top of the stairs. I listened in the hallway, but heard no sound. Warily I looked at the door of the study. That’s where he would be sitting, busy with his work. I shook my head. No, don’t go there. I trembled at the thought of his words, the scathing words he would speak.
Be quiet Maria, I’m busy!

His voice seemed to hound me and made me feel both desperate and angry. Time and time again I heard his voice, accusing me of disobedience, fornication, wanton behavior, adultery. It seemed as if he was physically present here in the room where I had felt so at ease from the day arrived. Why did he have to be here now, at this moment? Had Auntie informed him? Did he want to witness the birth of the child he had fathered? Why was he here? I wished he’d leave and that Mother would appear in his stead. Mother was the only one who had the right to be here, to hold my hand and talk soothing words to me, but when I opened my eyes she wasn’t there.

Little droplets of sweat ran down my face. I could feel his large hand, how it moved slowly and with such familiarity over my face. He smiled at me and then hurt me. The smell of his skin and the touch of his soft, limp fingers revolted me.

I felt nauseous and moved my back against the headboard while pressing a pillow against my stomach. The contractions seemed to come quicker and quicker. I wanted to call Auntie but couldn’t find the strength to walk across the room, open the door and call out for her. How would I manage that?

While I moaned in pain, the teddy bear looked on patiently. He had been sitting on the night table, on guard since the day I arrived. His brown eyes were warm and seemed to smile. In a brief moment of peace I stretched out my hand and picked up the lifeless bear so I could hold it close against me when the next contraction would come. The warmth of it’s fur comforted me a little, I put my teeth into the fur and bit down with all my strength to avoid any sound coming over my lips. The bear didn’t protest.

New pains came and went, came and went, and I finally screamed out in agony while I slid down so I could lie down on the bed.

There was a sound of stumbling on the stairs. I heard her concerned voice and felt a cool hand on my forehead.

‘Mother?’

On and on came the pains. I groaned, arched my back, reached out to feel her presence. Finally she had come, she was here. Mother had found me, she had finally managed to free herself from his dark hold on her and she had come to find me. Would I also be able to escape from his darkness? If she helped me I could summon up the strength. I grabbed her hand to pull myself up, away from the darkness, far away to a place of safety, a place where he wouldn’t be able to come. We would go together, hand in hand, helping each other to keep going. We would make it. Together we could find ourselves a new home, live there together and find pleasure in small things.

‘Come on, Maria.’

The voice sounded kind and familiar, but something wasn’t right.

‘Mother?’

The voice was silent, but before I could ask again the pain was there. Why did I have to endure this torment? Was there no other way, some way to make everything that had happened unhappen? I cried out again and clenched my hands around the bear, hid my face in its fur. Mother was here, but she was no longer a comforting and encouraging presence. The Reverend was in his study and needed peace and quiet.

‘
Behave yourself, Maria!
Not a peep, you know that.’ Mother whispered and threw a glance over her shoulder, then squeezed my shoulder and grabbed my coat.

‘Go and play outside, not here on the square, but elsewhere. You mustn’t disturb him.
Remember, no shrieking.’

The sound of my own voice suddenly reached my ears and I abruptly slammed my jaws together. He mustn’t hear me, if he did it would just mean another punishment. I had to keep quiet, ignore the pain. If I screamed he would have another reason to punish me. My silent tears were liquid nourishment for his ego, and my anguished screams were like honey to his soul and only spurred him on to more pleasure, more pain.

‘Don’t. Don’t. It hurts, really, it really hurts.’

‘Shut your mouth, Maria.’

I shut my mouth, but another fearful cry escaped my lips in further humiliation.

‘Maria, wait, don’t push yet.’

Was that Mother’s voice? Was she here to help me through this lonely hour of torment? Again I stretched out my hand and this time I found her hand, warm, patiently holding mine. Her warmth spread over me and comforted me. For a brief moment I knew all was well, Mother was kind and would always help me.

‘Wait a little longer. You can almost push.’ She was silent again and I knew why. This pain was different and seemed to be even more destructive. Whether I wanted to or not, I had to deliver this child, there was no way back. My body seemed to know instinctively what to do, but the pain was excruciating and all of a sudden I could feel his hands pulling the clothes off my body and touch my skin.