The Copper Sign (55 page)

Mildred looked pale and weak, but she nodded.

Not long thereafter, the boy was born. He was skinny, much too small and grey, and he didn’t cry.

The midwife shook her head. “He’s dead,” she said in a flat voice.

Mildred began to sob loudly. There was not much time to recover before new contractions expelled the afterbirth. When it was over, Mildred was completely drained.

The midwife washed her, and Eve straightened out the bedclothes.

In the meanwhile, Ellen went out into the garden to dig a hole for the child. It actually was Isaac’s job, but he couldn’t do it. Praying softly, Ellen buried the limp, dead body as well as the afterbirth, and filled in the hole. She planted a daisy on the grave and placed a cross in the ground made of two pieces of wood tied together.

When she returned to the house, Isaac was kneeling down alongside Mildred. With his good right hand he stroked her cheek and wiped away the tears.

“When I am dead, you must marry Ellenweore. She will always be there for you. You need a wife, and the children need a mother,” Mildred whispered.

“Shh…” Isaac kissed her on the forehead.

“Please, Isaac, you must promise me you will!” she begged him as she struggled to sit up.

“Certainly, my love,” he answered gently.

“Promise me you’ll marry her. Think of the children and the smithy. She is the only one who can help you!” Mildred sighed. “Ellen is a good person! Swear to me you will do it!” she begged him.

“I’ll promise—anything you want!” Isaac answered devotedly just to keep her from getting excited.

Ellen acted as if she hadn’t heard a word of it.

Isaac noticed her, stood up without looking at her, and returned silently to his room.

Mildred had fallen asleep, exhausted. She woke when Ellen stood up to go to the smithy.

“Ellen?” she called to her sister weakly.

“Yes?”

“Did you hear what Isaac promised me?”

Ellen nodded reluctantly.

“Now it’s your turn: swear to me that you will take care of Marie and Agnes…and Isaac. You must marry him after I die!”

“You’ll get better soon and be able to take care of your children yourself,” Ellen said, trying to comfort her sister.

“No, I know I am going to die.”

Ellen remained silent.

“Please, promise me!” she whispered. Even thought she had slept, she didn’t appear at all well rested. She had gotten paler, and her cheeks and eyes were sunken.

Ellen gave up. “Yes, Mildred, I promise, but I’ll do everything I can to make sure it won’t happen and that you will recover!”

At noon, Mildred actually looked a bit better. Her face was not so pale, and her cheeks looked fuller and rosier. Relieved, Ellen returned to work after lunch. But when she returned later in the afternoon she noticed that Mildred’s cheeks were red not because she was getting better, but because she had a high fever. The midwife had promised to stop by, and Ellen waited for her impatiently.

“I think Mildred has a fever,” she said to the old woman when she finally arrived.

“I couldn’t come any sooner because the dyer’s wife had twins. The first child came out backwards, and that is always harder.”

Ellen brought a goblet of thin beer and a bowl of warm water for the midwife. Carefully she washed her wrinkled fingers and then examined Mildred.

“I don’t like this at all,” she mumbled. Then she cooked a potion of herbs that she had brought with her and washed Mildred with it.

“Give her this to drink as well, two cups, one today and one tomorrow. I’ll come before noon to see how she is doing.”

When she saw the worried expression on the midwife’s face, Ellen realized how badly Mildred was doing.

“My sister thinks she is going to die. Do you think so, too?” Ellen took a deep breath.

“The ways of the Lord…sometimes the dying know more than the living. I cannot do much more for her, but I’ll gladly do whatever I can.” The midwife emptied the cup of beer, wrapped her woolen scarf around her shoulders, and prepared to leave. “Farewell, Ellenweore, and pray!” she said as she left the house.

Ellen was freezing. The last few days had been strenuous. She longed for her peaceful smithy, for Jean and Rose, and naturally for William. She crouched down in a corner, exhausted, buried her face in her hands, and cried until she finally drifted off to sleep.

For days, Mildred dozed. The fever didn’t increase, but it also didn’t die down. The children cuddled up to their mother and cried, as if they could feel how little time they still had left.

Even Isaac got control of himself and left his room in order to hold her hand. He brushed her forehead lovingly with his hand, and she opened her eyes, smiling faintly. As soon as he sat down with her, Ellen left and went over to the shop.

“I’m so sorry,” Mildred whispered one evening. Isaac just nodded silently and squeezed her hand. This time Ellen was sitting despondently at the foot of Mildred’s bed.

Isaac paid no attention to Ellen. In the afternoon the midwife had been there again. She knew the end was near and that there was nothing more she could do for Mildred. Ellen’s prayers had not helped.

Hour by hour Mildred became weaker. In a trembling voice and with eyes wide open she reminded her husband and her sister of the promise they had made, and in the afternoon she even found the strength to ask Ellen’s forgiveness for having placed such a heavy burden on her.

After the sun had set that evening, it became especially cold. There was a cozy fire crackling on the hearth, and hanging over the flickering fire on an iron chain was a pot of delicious smelling ham soup. Everyone sat silently around the table and ate, without looking up from their bowls.

Mildred’s life flickered weakly for a while as well, flared up briefly, and then, shortly after, expired.

After they had buried Mildred, Ellen was even more depressed than after Leofric’s death.

A year of mourning lay ahead of her, and then she would have to fulfill her promise.

Isaac survived the amputation of his hand. The stump healed without becoming gangrenous, but he seemed to have given up on life. All he did was lie in bed and let fate take its course.

Ellen’s sympathy gradually gave way to anger.

Eve still took care of the house and the children, but Isaac didn’t really need to have anyone to bring him his meals. He could have gotten up and made himself useful again even if now he was a “cripple” as he called himself disparagingly.

Ellen was horrified at the idea of having to spend the rest of her life with him. Why had she made that promise to her sister? Breaking a promise to a dying person would lead inevitably to eternal damnation, so she would have to marry Isaac whether she wanted to or not. That much was clear.

One day she told Isaac she needed to go to Orford to take care of some important matters. He looked at her with undisguised hostility.

“You never intended to keep your promise, did you?” he asked.

“What do you mean by that?” she flared up.

“Mildred is hardly under the ground, and here you go and disappear, leaving me and my children to a dark fate.”

“What do you mean?” Ellen retorted. “Eve will stay in the house and take care of the girls until I come back. Peter will stay in the shop and will do what is necessary, and after all, you are still here!” Ellen was stunned. How dare he call her a liar! She almost burst with rage at his miserable self-pity. “Of course I’ll come back, a promise is a promise, but I must look after my father’s smithy and see what I can do about it. Do you want to break your own promise?”

Isaac just shrugged. “I have no intention of leaving,” he said emphatically.

“Oh, that’s good. Then you don’t have to go back to bed and can make yourself a bit useful around here,” she added irritably.

Isaac did not reply but just filled his goblet and shuffled back to his room to lie down.

Ellen was furious as she packed up her things. She could no longer tolerate Isaac’s outrageous behavior and was happy to get out of the house for a few days.

It was on one of those gorgeous spring days with a blue sky and a light breeze that Ellen returned to Orford. A peculiar, anxious feeling came over her, one of both wistfulness and joy at being home again. Nothing had changed. The chickens pecked in the grass for worms and seeds, the vegetable garden was meticulously weeded, and the courtyard was swept clean. Rose seemed to have everything under control, as usual.

Ellen walked toward the smithy, and for a moment she hoped to find Osmond there, though she knew this was impossible. She opened the door and peered in, squinting in order to see.

“She is back!” William cried out joyfully, and though a bit shy, ran to greet his mother.

“Well, how are you?” Ellen asked her son with a smile as she stroked his cheek. William pressed his face into her hand, like a little cat. Ellen sighed. The last few weeks had been too stressful and had consumed all her strength, but nevertheless she had to be strong and make the necessary arrangements before she married this dreadful Isaac. She tried to keep her composure and pulled herself together. “Jean, I have to talk with you.” She beckoned to him, then hugged William one more time before letting him down, then also greeted Arthur in passing with a nod of her head.

Jean laid the hammer down and came over to her.

“Welcome home, Ellenweore!” he said cheerfully.

Ellen held the door for him, and they walked out into the yard. Since they had first met almost six years earlier, Jean had grown a lot and was now almost a hand’s width taller than her. His back and shoulders had become broad and strong.

“How are Mildred and Isaac? And the children?” he asked anxiously. He could tell by looking at Ellen’s face that something was wrong.

“The child was stillborn, but that’s not the worst of it. Isaac’s hand and almost half of his lower arm had to be amputated.”

“Good Lord, that’s dreadful!” Jean looked at her in horror.

“Mildred did not recover after the birth of the child. She died last month.” Ellen’s eyes filled with tears, and she mumbled: “She made Isaac and me swear to get married.”

“Get what…?” Jean looked at her, dumbfounded.

“Yes, yes, you heard right. Because of his hand, Isaac cannot work anymore as a smith. She had to think of the children, and I am supposed to save the smithy.”

“And what does that mean for us?”

“That’s just what I wanted to talk about with you.”

“Ellenweore!” Rose came running across the yard, waving. “William said you were back. It’s so nice to have you back at home again!”

“You didn’t speak with Rose?” Jean seemed surprised, yet he knew her well enough to figure out where her first stop would be: certainly not the house.

Ellen shook her head. Then she noticed Rose’s round belly and swallowed deeply.

“You didn’t tell her anything yet?” Rose scolded. Judging from the way Ellen looked at her, she figured he hadn’t.

“You…you are expecting,” Ellen said in a flat voice.

Rose nodded. Suddenly she was ashamed, even though she had been so overjoyed to finally become a mother.

“Who is it? Who did this to you?” Ellen turned red. “Couldn’t you have kept a better eye on her?” she snapped at Jean. Noticing the guilty, lovelorn gaze in Jean’s eyes, Ellen began to understand.

“You? The two of you have…” Ellen gasped for air, turned on her heel, and strode across the yard and down to the river.

“Let me, I’ll do that!” Rose held Jean back by the arm, because she wanted to follow Ellen herself. Dejectedly, and with drooping shoulders, he nodded.

“We should have told her long ago.”

“I know.”

Rose pulled up her dress and followed Ellen down the steep slope to the brook. Stumbling over a large stone, she slid a ways down the little slope, but at the last moment was able to catch herself before going into a free fall. She arrived at the bank of the stream completely out of breath.

Ellen sat on a boulder throwing pebbles into the water.

Rose sat down beside her. “I love him, Ellen!” she said after a while, staring into the water. “I haven’t had much happiness in my life.” She took a deep breath. “Except with Jean!”

“But he’s only twenty years old at the most!”

“So I’m a few years older than he is. Does it matter?” After a few moments, Rose continued. “I’d like your blessing.”

“My blessing?” Ellen laughed out loud. “Did you ask me before you sank into each other’s arms? And why me? I’m not a father, guardian, or master for either of you.” It sounded as if Ellen were just realizing that herself.

“But you’re my friend!”

“One in whom you have never confided a thing,” Ellen grumbled, deeply offended.

“Ellen! Please!”

“Why are you only now coming to me? After all, you must have been pregnant when I left. How long has this been going on between you two? Why didn’t you ask me what I thought of it before you went and slept with him?”

Rose sat there looking at the ground. “I’m not a child anymore, Ellen. I don’t have to ask you,” she answered calmly.

“Then you don’t need my consent now either.”

“But I’d like it!” Rose protested and looked at Ellen, pleading. “Good heavens, please understand, we live under one roof, we’re one family! You are like a sister to me and know me better than anyone, except Jean, of course.”

Ellen looked at Rose in astonishment. “He knows you that well?”

Rose nodded and blushed a bit. “When he looks into my eyes, he can read my thoughts.”

Ellen admired the girlish beauty of her friend, but at the same time, it angered her. Her demure blushing hardly was consistent with her immoral behavior.

“It won’t happen for almost four more months.” Rose stroked her belly dreamily.