Mara (25 page)

I wrapped my arms around me, expectantly, wondering what he meant. Reijer stepped one steppingstone closer to me. He tried to catch my eye, but I turned away, too shy to face him.

‘The love you have shown for a child that was conceived under such circumstances, has taught me a lot. You’ve touched me, Maria.’

I remained silent. What could I possibly say in response to such undeserved words of praise? I tried for so long to hate Mara. Slowly I stepped back, bringing some distance back between us.

‘Don’t run, Maria.’ Reijer reached out to me, but didn’t come closer.

‘Tell me why you came.’ Please let it be good tidings, I’m feeling so weak. My burden is so heavy and I need air, but all there is, is this heavy weight making it hard to breath freely.

‘I found her.’

There was a roaring sound in my ears and I almost lost my balance. What? What did he say?

‘I found her.’

I looked up at him and found air to breath. I took a deep breath and felt so free. The heavy weight fell off me and I smiled.

‘Where is she?’

‘I’ve brought the details for you.’ He put his hand in his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. He looked at me expectantly, questioningly. But instead of allowing him to come closer to me, I made two big steps toward him.

Reijer handed me the paper and I unfolded it. I read the information he had gathered. My fingers trembled and I almost dropped the paper. I held on to the paper with all my strength, never would I let go of it, never.

Then I screamed a high-pitched scream. I threw my head back and shrieked out loud to the heavens. I raised my arms to the sky and jumped as high as I could.

I screamed till I had no breath left in me.

Then I laughed and Reijer laughed with me. I turned around and started to run toward the farmhouse, I stopped for a moment, motioning Reijer to come along. Full of excitement I suddenly veered left as I remembered that Auntie was with the pigs. I had to run to the pig house, not the farmhouse.

I screamed again and jumped aimlessly up in the air before continuing to run. My skirts flapped about my ankles and I pulled them up so I could run faster. Every now and then I checked over my shoulder and saw that Reijer was still following me, at a slower pace but with a big smile on his face.

The door to the pig house opened up and Auntie emerged with a concerned expression on her face. She shielded her eyes with her hand and walked briskly towards me.

‘What’s the matter, I heard screaming…’

‘Auntie, look! Look!’ I pressed the paper into her hands and looked at her with anticipation. She hesitated, then started to read. I saw a smile appear on her face and I clapped in my hands. Again I started to jump and shriek for joy.

Auntie laughed with me and pulled me close to her. She held me tight and patted my shoulder affectionately.

‘Wonderful, my child. Just wonderful, wonderful.’

26

J
ustice hurts more than I had expected. There is no satisfaction in hurting another person. It’s a torment to my soul. Have I become like him by taking from someone what they love?

We had traveled by train to the little town and only had to enquire once before we found the house. It wasn’t far from the station. It was a simple, but neatly kept working-class cottage. I tried to picture the people who lived there, so happy with the child they had wanted for so long. And today I came to claim that child, birth certificate in hand to prove I had the right to take my child back. But inside I felt horrible as I considered that I would do to another woman what had been done to me. After all, how could someone not love Mara?

The cottage was in a poor area of town. It was well looked after, but no more than that. For a moment we stood in silence together, then I put my arm through Auntie’s again and we walked together up the short walk to the front door.

I pulled the bell forcefully and we could hear it peel somewhere inside the house. It remained silent and I threw a sideways glance at Auntie. We hadn’t announced our visit, it was possible that no one was home. That meant we had made the whole journey for nothing and had to try again another day.

Once again I rang the bell, harder this time and I pulled several times in a row, quickly. Now there was movement inside. I heard footsteps behind the door and the soft voice of a woman, though I couldn’t make out what she said. Then the door was opened.

‘Hello, good afternoon.’ Her eyebrows arched enquiringly, but she had a friendly smile.

‘Good afternoon.’ I took a deep breath and all of a sudden forgot all the words I had meant to speak. The woman in front of me was no more than ten years older than me, she had a friendly, round face and the smile around her mouth seemed to be quite at home there. I noticed little laugh wrinkles around her eyes and knew she had cheerful disposition.

‘What can I do for you?’ She still sounded friendly, but it occurred to me that she must be wondering what these two silent women were doing at her doorstep. I still couldn’t utter a word though. My nerves were on edge and I broke out into a clammy sweat thinking of what I had come to tell this woman.

Auntie started to speak before the silence became unbearable.

‘Are you Mrs. Van Doorn?’

‘Yes, I am.’

‘In that case we would appreciate it if we could come inside for a moment. There is something we need to discuss with you.’ Boldly Auntie moved a step forward and the woman unwittingly opened the door a bit wider to let us in. Auntie went ahead and I followed.

The hall was small and narrow, but the tiles on the floor were clean and the worn out carpet on the stairs also was clean.

We stood all three, uncomfortably, in the little hall. Mrs. Van Doorn had placed her hands on her hips.

‘Before I invite you in any further, I’d first like to know what your business is.’

‘It’s about the child you have,’ Auntie spoke since I remained speechless.

The woman gasped for air and I saw that she wavered unsteadily for a moment. She stared from me to Auntie and back to me again. Then she leaned against the wall and even in the poorly lit hallway I could see that the blood had drained from her face. Slowly she opened the door to the living room and let us in.

‘Come in.’ Her voice was no more than a whisper and I could hear the pain and fear in it. I stepped over the threshold and felt such a lowlife.

‘Please, have a seat.’ She pointed both of us to a chair and I sat down on the edge of mine.

The woman sat down across from us. I could she her hands were trembling and her face was still ashen.

‘What have you come for?’

For my child, to take her home.

The words had seemed so obvious and simple when I had practiced them at home. Every time I had spoken them out loud I had felt happier. Now however, there was a large lump in my throat, stopping me from speaking even a word. It was hard to breath.

Auntie fumbled in her bag and eventually pulled out a piece of paper. I knew it was the birth certificate. Without a word she handed it to Mrs. Van Doorn.

‘No. No.’

The piece of paper rustled in her trembling hands.

‘No.’

I half expected her to rip the paper up in anger, making it impossible for justice to take its course.

‘She was taken from me without my knowledge.’ These weren’t the words I had prepared, but my mouth spoke them before I thought about it. ‘I miss her day and night. She’s a part of me, my heart is no longer complete.’

‘No.’

Yes.

I could see the pain I caused this woman by coming here with my request. And, even though the words weren’t said out loud, all three of us knew how this was going to end. For a split second I considered getting up to leave without looking back, without her. I knew this woman loved my daughter, I could see it in her eyes, I could hear it in her voice, I could feel the absolute anguish that filled her whole being.

‘What did you call her?’

‘Janneke.’

Janneke.

‘I called her Mara.’

‘Mara. Bitterness. Sweet bitterness.’

She slowly rose from her seat and warily looked at us.

‘What is it you wanted to do?’

‘I want to take her home.’

‘She is ours. We’ve waited so long…’ The woman started to cry and I could feel her pain deep inside me. Auntie put her arm around my shoulders, which made the pain and sadness I felt for Mrs. Van Doorn even worse. She had to go through this alone, her husband was probably at work.

‘I won’t give her away.’ She seemed to have made a firm decision and resolutely stood up straight. ‘She’s my daughter. I won’t give her to you. Out with you two, out!’

I gently shook my head, though I understood her completely. ‘She’s my daughter.’

‘Out!’ She pointed with a trembling finger and there was nothing left of the smile that had been on her face earlier. She was now a mother fighting for her child.

Auntie rummaged in her bag again and pulled out another piece of paper.

‘Maybe you should read this. Maria has every right to claim her child. She is the biological mother and nothing can change that. I’m sorry.’ The sheet of paper was a description of my legal rights. The woman could protest all she wanted, but I was fully allowed to take Mara with me. No matter how difficult it was to do that now.

Despite her anger the woman took the paper and read it. I saw her shoulders slump. I saw how reality hit her and undermined her ability to fight. She was powerless and she knew it.

‘Can’t you wait one more day? Or two, or maybe a week?’

Auntie shook her head pointedly and I was grateful to her, for I would have promised this woman anything to ease her pain.

The piece of paper fell from the woman’s hand and fluttered onto the floor. She turned round to the door that we had entered through. I looked at Auntie, confused, and wanted to get up and follow the woman, but Auntie nodded at me and put a finger against her lips.

The woman disappeared and I could hear her shuffling footsteps on the stairs. My thoughts and memories whirled through my head and contradicted each other.

Whore. You have no right to this child.

But she’s my daughter, my own flesh and blood. I carried her, I gave birth to her and fed her. I love her.

Look at what you’re doing to this woman.

Do I have to suffer for the sake of a woman I don’t know?

You are a whore. This woman is innocent, she finally has a child to love.

And what about me? What about me?

The woman returned to the room carrying a small bundle in her arms. Her eyes and cheeks were red from crying.

‘Can you at least wait until my husband is home? He will want to say goodbye to her.’

I hardly heard her question, for my attention was focused on Mara who was so close to me all of a sudden. I jumped up and walked toward the woman, prepared to take the child from her. When I stopped in front of her I understood her pain and struggle, but then she put Mara in my arms. The warm little bundle against me felt so familiar and at the same time it didn’t. She had grown a lot in these three long months, but I could see her eyes and knew without a doubt that this was my daughter. Then she started to flail her arms about and her face turned sad. Before I realized what had happened she started to cry. I clucked my tongue and made soft noises, but it didn’t seem to mean anything to her.

With desperation I quickly glanced at Auntie and suddenly I heard that voice again.
She’s better off elsewhere, Maria. What makes you think you could care for her.
From the corner of my eye I saw Mrs. Van Doorn step forward with her hands outstretched, as if she meant to take Mara over from me. I quickly turned away from her and bent over Mara, ignoring the words in my head. With my nose I stroked her cheek and kept muttering words of endearment. Slowly the crying got softer and her arms and legs relaxed. I lifted her up and held her against my shoulder, her head resting in the palm of my hand. Still sobbing a bit she lay against me, close to my heart.

Auntie and I awaited the return of Mr. van Doorn. I had returned Mara to the arms of the young woman who had been her mother, and I watched how she said goodbye to my child. It hurt to see it, but I had to be tough for Mara’s sake. Never would I abandon her.

It was heartwrenching when later that afternoon the husband came home and burst into an impotent rage when he learned what we had come for. The farewell was bitter and I felt justly hated. What should have been a day of triumph had ended up as a bitter sweet reunion.

Everything had changed. The cradle stood once again in my bedroom and every time I walked past and saw my daughter lying there I took such delight in seeing her, and I smiled. I often would lean over the cradle as she slept and I’d talk to her. I always told her I loved her, and I would sing nursery rhymes that I remembered from when I was young.

When Mara was awake her eyes would attentively follow my every move, and I hoped she knew that I was her mother. That I was more to her than just the woman who looked after her. I was looking forward to the day that she would call me ‘Mother’, but in the meantime I thoroughly enjoyed every minute we had together.

Reijer came to visit and I thanked him. He spoke little, but I could see the contentment in his eyes. When he sat down I put Mara in his arms and he rocked her gently. Her little mouth quivered for a moment and I was worried she’d start to cry, but the sound of his deep voice calmed her.

‘She’s beautiful, Maria,’ he said finally as he returned my daughter to me. ‘A miracle of God’s creating love.’

I took her from him without a word, but his words resounded in my head for the rest of the day. God and miracles. Fairytales and reality.

27

I
t was market day again and Auntie asked me if I wanted to come, but I said no. When she had left I thought about her offer and it slowly dawned on me what it would have cost her if I had gone with her.

I thought back to the week before when I had come along with her on market day. The people we had met, the conversations Auntie had had with her friends. Some of them she had known for years and some of them knew me too. They knew who I was and they knew I was unmarried, only sixteen years old.