Mara (18 page)

‘Mara.’

‘Your child is now in a family that is very happy to have her.’

I took a deep breath and wanted to interrupt, but he raised his hand.

‘You have to believe that. Mien has done this kind of thing before.’

But she has never asked the Reverend for advice before, and what did she know of him?

‘Mara will have a father and a mother, she can grow up without shame.’

‘And without me.’

He ignored my remark.

‘You’re sixteen. How would you raise a child and hold a job at the same time to support yourself, find a place to live for you and your child, and also, how would you live with the shame when people look on you with contempt?’

His words were true, they were all true, but so harsh and cruel. I wrapped my arms around myself and slowly rocked myself.

‘Of course you would have been able to find a temporary solution, but you have to look further, Maria. How would it be in five years’ time, or ten? What about when you’re older and you would like a family, a husband, more children?’

I stopped short and suddenly sat very still. Then I slowly started to rock myself again.

‘Your aunt wanted to do what’s best for you, Maria.’

I kept rocking back and forth and considered his words, everything he had said. Maybe it was true.

But she was still my child.

I pulled my wooden shoes out of the sticky dirt and softly put my feet down again. Again I rocked back and forth and again my wooden shoes sucked themselves into the dirt.

Auntie meant to do what was best for me. Maybe it was true. But Mara was still my child.

I don’t know for how long we sat there, but finally he helped me up and we walked back to the house together. At the door he tapped his cap and left.

19

I
feel so much doubt after my conversation with Reijer. Can it really be true that Mara is better off with other people than with me? Auntie Be, Mien, Reijer, they all seem to agree.

Why am I still here? I don’t know what else I can do to find her, and if I can’t find her, then why would I keep hoping? What has life brought me except for fragments of happiness that were all too quickly snatched away from me? Happiness is nothing but the counter balance of misery, the more happiness, the deeper the misery when that happiness is taken away.

I am very diligent in doing my chores, so Auntie won’t have any reason to complain, and I think about what I can possibly do. There are so few options.

In truthfulness, there are none.

No, if I’m really honest, there’s only one.

Farewell, my dear friend.

The hayloft, a place where I never used to come, now became a place of refuge for me, a place where I could feel at ease just sitting or lying down on the hay while I thought about everything that had happened. I heard footsteps on the stairs and silently waited to hear if Auntie was going to call me. I hadn’t told her that I spend many hours here. I didn’t know if she knew where to find me if she was worried, but I didn’t want to share this secret with her.

The door opened up and a ray of light fell across the loft. Without a noise I lowered myself behind a few of the hay bales and I held my breath. I almost had to sneeze because of the smell and dust all around me, but I managed to hold it in and silently waited.

‘Maria.’

It wasn’t Auntie who was looking for me, it was Reijer. I hesitated, not sure whether to answer him or not. I could hear his footsteps crossing the loft and I could feel the floor tremble under the weight of his steps.

‘Maria, your aunt told me your were here.’ He stood still and seemed to hesitate. Like me, he hadn’t brought a lantern and it must have been hard for him to see anything while his eyes were still adjusting to the darkness.

He made another careful step and bumped his foot against a bale. I saw him bend down and touch it, then he sat down.

‘I would like to talk to you.’

I remained quietly crouched down. I was sure he would leave soon enough. He had to understand that I didn’t want his company. This was the only place for me where I could think in peace. Did that have to be taken from me as well?

‘Have you thought about our last conversation?’ he asked, as if I was sitting beside him and we were having a normal conversation.

I said nothing, but inside my head I answered him.
I haven’t been able to think of anything else. Clearly, the decision wasn’t mine to make, but others. And everyone has decided that I am unsuitable. Unsuitable and useless.

‘Have things improved between you and your aunt?’ he continued.

No, things haven’t improved between us and it isn’t going to change either, but don’t worry, she won’t be burdened by my useless presence much longer. Everything will change. Everything will become peaceful.

I made up my mind and suddenly took off my wooden shoes and stood up, walked four, five large paces towards the door that Reijer had left ajar, and said: ‘I don’t want to talk, Reijer, please leave me alone.’

A few more steps and I had reached the door and then the stairs. I quickly went down and in the barn I put my wooden shoes back on. It had been enough. More than enough.

The barn door was still ajar and I opened it further. I glanced over my shoulder, but Reijer didn’t follow me. Good, what a relief.

I started to run, quite determined now. I had to get away, away from myself.

I ran without looking, I blindly pushed my way through shrubs and jumped over obstacles. The dog’s barks reached me from afar and accompanied the noisy thumping of my footsteps.

In my head voices echoed telling me what I had to do. Everyone knew so well, and they all said the same thing.
Maria, whore. Be glad that you’re rid of the child. Be happy with this solution, grow up, find a husband, have a family. Submit yourself to the leadership of a godly man and you’ll be blessed. Of course he has authority over you. Yes, over your body and soul. But that is the order of creation, that is how it’s supposed to be. Why do you fight it? Because you’re a whore, and always will be. No one can wash you clean from the sins you’ve committed. It’s no use. You won’t find your daughter back. She’s in a place you’ll never find. Everyone wants to do what’s best for you, really, everyone.

My breath came faster and faster, my throat felt dry and raspy. I felt a stabbing side ache and it angered me, and hurried me on till the pain became unbearable and I slowed down. For a moment I stopped and leaned with my hands against the white bark of a birch, my body bent over. Then I heard Reijer calling my name. He was following me after all and again I ran.

No, Reijer, you will not take this from me. I will not let myself be found again, I don’t want to anymore.

I ran slower now, held back by the pain in my side and my bruised feet inside the wooden shoes. I tripped and almost fell, recovered and kept running. I had only one goal, one solution.

I had to go on, to the end of the earth and then off it, that was the only option left to me. It was no longer a question of where I should go, but whether I would make it in time. I followed a wide bend and turned right, ran straight through a thicket and I felt the branches of some large berry bushes hit my face. One painful lash must have left a red welt on my cheek, but I ignored it. I had set my goal and was determined to reach it. Goaded on by a voice I knew and at the same time didn’t know. A voice that silenced every other voice in my head. Gone were all the good intentions. All that was left was the voice with the one remaining solution that would make all things well. For Mara, for Auntie, for Mother, for the Reverend, for everyone. Also for me.

I reached another path and knew it wasn’t much further. Now that I had reached a proper path I was no longer hindered by branches and bushes. I made quicker headway and knew I had almost reached my destination.

In the distance I could see the blackness glistening and with renewed vigor I ran faster and faster. My feet ached and I kicked off my wooden shoes without slowing down. It didn’t matter anymore.

On my socked feet I could feel every little stone, and a surface root hurt the bottom of my feet, but it mattered no longer. I had reached the end of the path and ran the rest of the way across the grass, next a short stretch of sand and then I walked into the shimmering blackness. Immediately the water slowed me down as it soaked my skirts, but I doggedly moved on.

The cold seemed like a friend to me, it numbed my painful scratches and bruises. It became more difficult to continue as my skirts became heavier and heavier. I could feel the water pulling on me and I knew all was well. I turned round and looked up at the sky one more time, then I let myself fall back and let the water close over me. There was nothing left to fight for anymore, no chance to turn back, the water had taken a hold of my clothes and I slowly drifted away. All was well.

Water plants entangled and embraced me, as if they wanted to gently rock me in their arms, cradle me like a baby.

The cold numbed all my pain. The pain I felt inside me also seemed to disappear as the watery depths welcomed me. I blew some bubbles and sank a little deeper. My eyes followed the bubbles as they rose to the surface and there they popped like sweet dreams.

The water plants’ arms cradled me into the depths of the water. Back into Mother’s arms, safe as a little baby. Finally all was well.

I felt firm slaps on my cheeks and my head swung from left to right. I was so cold. Strong arms lifted me up and carried me. There were bumps and jerks, and voices calling. The cold, I felt so cold. Fingers were touching me, pulling the clothes from my body.

No. Not again, no!
Don’t do it, don’t do it! It’s quiet in my room, I’m in bed with my blanket pulled tightly over me. I don’t dare to crawl under the blanket any further. Mother is gone, and I don’t want to miss any noises by putting my head under the blanket. My heart is thumping with fear, my hands hold on tight to the blanket. I can’t avoid it, I can’t do anything about it. Why do I listen so intently? Why do I want to know when he comes?

The third step on the staircase creaks.

Now I pull the blanket over my head.

When I can’t see him, he can’t see me, right?

The door opens with a creak. I smell my own breath as it is trapped under the blanket. It smells of fear. Three steps, two steps. He stops. He waits. All he does is wait and I know that it is enough. My hands tremble, and I blow on them, again I smell the sour smell of fear. He waits. Every minute he waits, his impatience grows. He won’t drag me away from under the blanket, but he’ll win anyway. Mother, where are you? Mother.

My feet start a life of their own and suddenly they push against the end of the bed. My body slides up and my hair feels the cool air in my room. The blanket moves and fresh air enters, and a soft light enters my room from the hall. A shadow hangs over my bed. His shadow.

‘Maria.’

His voice is enough and I know that he has won again. My eyes are closed, but the image on my retina won’t disappear. I know him too well, I know how he is, how he feels, how he punishes. I have to open the buttons of my nightgown myself. He doesn’t need words anymore. My hands are his servants and do their duty. My body stiffens with cold, and offers him warmth pleasure.
And my misery
.

The hands are gone now. They are replaced by a warm blanket, but even the blanket can’t chase away the cold. Why didn’t the water keep its hold on me, keep me in its powerful embrace?

‘What happened?’

I could hear Auntie’s voice, shrill and full of distress. Where did Auntie’s voice come from? And where is the water? I start to thrash about me and I open my mouth in an attempt to swallow water and sink deeper, but all I swallow is air.

‘She needs to be kept warm. She’s chilled to the bone.’

I want to nod my head, but I can’t. Yes, it’s cold. It’s terribly cold. I shut myself off to my surroundings and refuse to listen anymore, again I allow myself to drift off with the cold. There is no water now, but maybe the cold is enough. Simply the cold will do. I drift with my eyes closed, my arms spread out. I look up at the blue sky. A single branch from an old oak tree is hanging over the water and I follow the direction it points to. For a moment there is a small robin sitting on the branch, then it flies off. I try to fly along with it, higher and higher, but instead I sink further and further. For a moment I feel the need to breathe. I flail my arms about, momentarily gasping for air, and I feel the sun on my hand as it reached up above the water. But then I realize that there is nothing up there except misery and heartache. I close my eyes and escape into darkness.

‘What else can we do?’

‘Just pray.’

Familiar voices call me. Their words are like stars in a dark night. They shed a bit of light, enough to see by. I rise and feel the odd sensation of my body shivering. Uncontrollable shivering. The cold that’s nestled inside of me seems to try and find itself a way out. My hands, arms, legs, yes, even my stomach, they all seem to shiver uncontrollably. My breath comes haltingly, but I know that I am breathing air, not water.

A strong cocoa smell enters my nostrils and it almost chases away the cold. My eyelids flutter, and suddenly I want nothing more than to open them and look around me. I need to know where I am, with whom and why.

I hear mumbling voices and I focus my eyes in the direction of their sound and I see them, Reijer and Auntie. They are both sitting beside my bed, each with a bible on their lap. Their hands are folded, their eyes are closed and their lips are moving. They each have their own rhythm, either one incomprehensible to me. I continue to watch them as they pray. I notice how Auntie reaches out for the hand of her pastor and how he suddenly leads her in a clearly audible prayer, as if they had planned it that way. When he stops, she continues and her amen is for him the start of a new dialogue with his God. There seems to be no end to their pleading, until Reijer opens his eyes, seemingly without focus, but he looks straight into mine. His voice falls silent and he smiles.