Mara (17 page)

How much can a person bear? How much am I able to bear?

After my desperate search of the farm I no longer allowed myself to be kept confined to a chair in the house, despite the pain to my body. I had decided to go back to work, and my hands worked at high speed as I scrubbed the floor of the ‘opkamer’. The soapy water turned my fingers raw and I felt a burning, piercing pain, but I ignored it. I just got myself more hot water, inflicted new pain, and I scrubbed.

I felt a hand on my shoulder and I shook it off impatiently. I didn’t want to be touched. I wanted no contact. Leave me alone. I don’t want to talk. I don’t want to live.

Again there was a hand on my shoulder, then two. Auntie held on to me and no matter what I did, she wouldn’t let go. The only way to free myself would be by force and I couldn’t possibly do that. Instead I scrubbed even harder and put my full weight on the brush so I could get all the grime out of even the deepest grooves. The result was quite the opposite. The bristles of the brush bent uselessly sideways with the pressure I put on them.

‘Get up, Maria.’

I considered her words and wanted to ignore her again, but her hands remained on my shoulders and seemed to leave a burning impression. Finally I got up. Her hands still remained on my shoulders.

She guided me down the steps and brought me to one of the kitchen chairs. She placed a cup of coffee on the table in front of me and sat down, facing me.

Instead of looking at Auntie, I looked out of the window. It had some dust on it and a few flies. I would have to wash that. I made a mental note to boil some water in a minute, lots of hot water, so the windows would gleam. Weren’t windows like the soul of a house? With clean windows, people who walked by could enjoy the welcoming warmth of the home, and people inside could look out and have contact with the people outside. Windows ought to be clean. I already moved my feet in preparation to push back my chair. The coffee stood on the table, untouched.

But Auntie’s voice held me back.

‘Don’t you dare get up now, Maria!’

She spoke the words with such authority as I had heard from her only a few times before. I relaxed my feet, and the chair stayed where it was.

I glanced at my hands and looked closely at the red cracks, the white swollen edges of my nails, the cuts between my thumb and index finger where the skin had split and now was swollen as well. Now that I was no longer scrubbing away at the floor, little droplets of blood had a chance to dry. It was like life emerging, but congealing before it had a chance to really make a difference.

‘We can’t go on like this, Maria.’

I heard a soft movement and saw in the corner of my eye how she stretched out her hand to me across the table. Another meaningless gesture. I had admired this hand before, because of its strength and patience, but this same hand had betrayed me, had taken my child and carried it off.

I looked at the coffee that was steaming hot and patiently waiting for me on the table and I toyed with the notion of throwing it over. Would the hot liquid reach the traitorous hand and scar it? Would she keep her hand outstretched despite the pain, or would she pull her hand back?

‘I want you to look at me.’

More words. Another command. Was there nothing left for me? No room, no freedom at all to make my own choices? Was I doomed to live my life tied to bonds that others controlled and tightened around me? The only difference between the Reverend and Auntie was the way they went about it. He tortured me with his power to condemn me, and she tortured me with her love that also condemned me. What good had love brought me so far?

Only betrayal.

‘Look…at…me.’

My eyes glided from the coffee cup with the flower pattern to her hand, still lying there with the palm facing upward, vulnerable. From her hand I slowly looked up her arm, her neck, her chin. I took care not to meet her eyes.

‘Look at me, Maria.’

She still wasn’t satisfied. It was never enough.

Again my legs moved underneath my chair, I pushed off and stood up. I moved so sudden that the coffee spilled over the cup into the saucer.

My soapy water was cold by now, but I would prepare new water. I had to scrub the floor and after that wash the windows. I didn’t have time to chat. I didn’t have the strength.

As I threw water from the rain barrel against the windows with a wooden spoon, I heard the dog barking behind me. For a moment I felt the familiar urge to run away and hide from visitors, whoever they may be, but when I looked down at my flat belly, I realized that this was no longer necessary. I heard steps approach me and I glanced over my shoulder to see who it was.

Reverend Bosch. Reijer.

He stopped a few steps behind me and I positioned myself in such a way that I could still throw the last bit of rain water at the windows, yet keep a good eye on him.

‘Good afternoon, Maria.’

I nodded in response, but said nothing. This was the first time I saw him since… Mara. With the disappearance of my big belly, it seemed as if a barrier had fallen away between us. I felt no shame as I saw him now, only the same impatience and anger I felt toward Auntie. It was very easy now to call him Reijer instead of Reverend Bosch.

‘Afternoon, Reijer.’ I was angry, and he was allowed to know it.

‘Your aunt told me you’re all better now?’

He spoke as if I had caught a cold, had been in bed for a few days, and was fully recuperated now. Did no one understand then that it was more than a small illness, that the white stretch marks on my stomach would always remain? That a piece of my heart was missing because I could no longer hold my daughter in my arms? Auntie, Mien and now also Reijer, everyone acted like it was just a passing ailment.

I threw the wooden spoon with force into my bucket and took a firm hold of the bucket while I considered filling the bucket and throwing the contents over Reijer’s head. I didn’t do it.

‘Oh yes, all better.’

‘I’m glad to hear that.’

I nodded. Angrily.

‘Is your aunt inside?’

‘Yes, she’ll probably be in the barn,’ I said, though I didn’t have a clue as to where Auntie was or what she was doing at that moment, and it didn’t interest me in the slightest. As long as he would leave me alone.

Reijer hesitated for a moment. He fumbled with his cap and then went inside. I watched him go in silence. Then I grabbed my things and moved on to the next window. It suited me just fine if the two of them were going to sit and chat together in the kitchen. They didn’t need my help with that. They could manage just fine without me, just like I would manage just fine without them. I had other concerns. I wasn’t finished yet with the windows.

‘Maria!’

I didn’t respond. She’d stop calling me soon enough.

‘Maria!’

I remained silent and kept cleaning.

‘Maria!’

I heard footsteps in the yard and they came my way.

‘Oh, here you are. Come on in, child, I’ve made you some tea.’

‘I don’t want any.’

‘Reijer is here too, come along and join us.’

‘I know he’s here.’

‘Maria, child…’

Reluctantly I turned to face her. I saw a tear on her cheek, but I ignored it and side stepped her. I just missed bumping into her and I felt a sense of satisfaction.

She had brought this upon herself.

I walked along the attached barn and used the barn doors at the back to enter. Instead of walking straight into the kitchen, I washed my hands at the pump in the barn and as I stared at the flowing water I wondered to myself if I was treating Auntie too harshly.

And was I treating the world too harshly too?

Had my own behavior not been much, much worse than Auntie’s when I had hated my child and had even wished it to be dead?

But that was before I had seen Mara and had held her in my arms!

I dried my hands, turned round, crossed the barn and headed for the kitchen. Tea was on the table already and Reijer and Auntie sat together talking in muted voices. When I entered, their voices became silent.

‘Come and join us, Maria,’ Auntie spoke after a brief silence. Reluctantly I took a chair and gazed at the steam rising up from the tea. Auntie offered us a cookie and I refused gruffly. I drank my tea as quickly as I possibly could. Despite the heat of the liquid that burnt my mouth and throat I didn’t want to pour the tea in the saucer to cool it off first. With a slam I put the cup back on the saucer. I got up and wanted to leave the kitchen again.

‘Maria, it’s you I came for actually.’

‘I can’t talk, I’ve got too much work to do.’

‘Give me a chance, Maria.’

I stood still, unsure, and Auntie got up and left the kitchen.

‘I’ll leave you two alone.’

Why won’t anyone listen to me? I don’t want to talk. I am invisible, indistinct and insignificant. I’m sorry Reijer, forget it. I’m out of here. If it’s a conversation you want you’ll have to find Auntie back. Don’t expect anything from me anymore.

I started to move, ready to walk out.

‘Why do you punish us all?’

I don’t punish anyone, what are you talking about? The only one being punished is me. Over and over again. That was the reason I got pregnant to begin with. You didn’t know that, did you? You didn’t know it was a punishment. The Reverend knew though, every mistake I made was an excuse for him to come to me and rape me. And in the end that was how he left inside me the seed that brought forth Mara. Oh yeah, by now I know all about it. Did you know all this? All that what a man and woman do together? Sure you do. You’re a man and a servant of God besides. Any idea yet which woman you’re going to select for your filthy games?

Mara. Mara has been punished too. She was taken away from her mother, even before we could get to know each other. What do you think, has she been punished enough for my sins?

My mind raged, but my mouth remained silent.

‘Maria, I want to help.’

He stretched out his hand across the table and looked at me, pleadingly. I closed my eyes and turned away. Very deliberately I walked out of the kitchen.

My feet felt heavy as I lifted them into my wooden shoes. Why did I behave like this to people who were trying to be good to me? Did I really mean to be this harsh, hurt the people close to me, and go through life sad and alone?

I opened the barn door by leaning against it. I tripped over the threshold and let the door slam closed behind me with a loud bang. Another mistake. You’d think I was angry.

I wasn’t though. I was just so…

Sad?

Without seeing or hearing anything I crossed the yard, walked past the pig house and the chicken coop and looked for an opening in the bushes where I could climb through. My skirt got caught on the thorns of a wild black berry bush, but I tore myself free, not caring that I ripped in my clothes. I trampled on some young shoots that had just started to grow. At the same time I held on to the branches and I tore off all the young green leaves that were growing on them.

My hands quickly were filled with red stripes, and they ended up soiled by the green juices. It stung. I sat down on a fallen tree and put my face in my hands. I smelled the juices of the crushed leaves on my sticky hands. Now I was really alone, I had managed to distance myself from everyone.

It wasn’t until Reijer sat down beside me on the tree trunk, that I noticed I had been followed, and he carefully put a warm arm around my shoulder. I jerked up, startled, and moved away from him.

My sudden move made him pull back his arm and he said nothing, but continued to sit silently beside me. It was strange to sit on a tree trunk beside a man, and it was as if I could still feel the pressure of his arm on my shoulder. I wiggled about uncomfortably. The fabric of my dress rubbed over the rough bark of the tree and it pulled every now and then. My thoughts darted from staying on the tree trunk to running away, from remaining silent to screaming out all my misery, from fighting to suffering.

I swung my feet back and forth until I realized I was doing it. Then I started to fidget with my hands, traced a red stripe on my palm with my index finger. The pain was irrelevant, I simply studied the structure of the damaged skin. Why had I done that? I quickly closed my fist in an attempt to hide the scars.

What would happen if I hit him and shouted at him? Would he leave me alone then for good? It seemed like a good idea.

But it was a lonely one.

So I stayed seated and didn’t hit him, but stared at a spider climbing over my wooden shoe. I could shake it off, or crush it. Or leave it be. Was this how God regarded people? Did he choose to cruelly crush some, to repel and merely wound others, and to leave others in peace? I thought about it for a long while but couldn’t come to a satisfactory answer, and when I glanced at the wooden shoe again, the spider was gone.

My shoulders had slowly relaxed and the sleeves of my dress lightly touched the fabric of Reijer’s jacket. I imagined how an invisible thin piece of thread united us and I shuddered. I quickly moved aside, but not too far.

I listened to the sparrows chirping. In the distance I could hear the dog bark and close by I heard an insect buzzing. Finally I made my decision.

‘Thank you, Reijer.’
That you came after me, that you took the trouble to see me, that you’re still friendly to me.

Reijer didn’t respond for a few seconds. I looked aside and saw him smile.

‘I’m glad you said that, Maria. You mustn’t run away. Not for me and not for your aunt.’

‘It’s all harder than you think.’

‘She has told me a few things. I am trying to understand the two of you. And I’m trying to help too, but there are no easy solutions.’

‘So am I simply supposed to resign myself to how things are?’ I dug my heels into the sand.

‘I’m not sure about that. I don’t have a clear picture of the situation.’

From the corner of my eye I saw how he shook his head, but his answer was of no help to me.

‘But it is so simple, I am her mother.’ I twisted my heels fiercely and dug deeper into the dirt.

‘Yes, that you are. What is her name?’ he asked suddenly, as if the question just struck him.