The Journey Back (16 page)

paid for it, too. I’ll be an important man.” He grinned. “I bet they’ll say, “That Johan, what he can’t do!”” He picked up the pitchfork, pushed it back into the dirty straw, looked at me. “Don’t say anything about it to Dientje though. She’ll think I’m crazy. I’ll get’ to it when I’m ready.” The door of the chicken coop opened. Opoe came out, holding the basket of eggs in one hand, dear ting rag in the other. She must have had a good day; her face was all crinkly with laughter. “Fifteen of ‘em, Annie.” Dientje had also finished her work.

She was standing in the kitchen doorway, smiling. Wisps of wet hair stuck out from under her kerchief. She picked up the milking jugs. Time now for Johan to bring the cows in for the night. Yes, there he was already, walking straight through the grass to the special one. He must be anxious to start milking that one first, see how much …“Coming, Johan.” Eagerly I jumped down. Me, too.

What about today though? Watch them again? I already had yesterday, all day, almost from the minute I got up. “C’mon, Annie, over here. I’m going to wash the cows’ tails.” Five of them. And in the shed, cutting up potatoes for planting, a bushel at least. I had helped. Dientje had not even wanted me to. “You should enjoy yourself while you’re here, Annie.” I looked out the kitchen window. Maybe I’d go outside? Sit?

Maybe so. It was early still. The tree was a little damp. With a corner of my skirt I dabbed the branch. A few blossoms had opened, all white now. And some, almost open, that one by my knee, maybe even by tonight in this weather.

Wherever I looked, the sky was blue. I sighed, settled myself a little better. The green of the kitchen door looked different today, darker; so did the stable and the strips of the chicken coop. I strained my eyes.

Yes, the paint on the shed too, same thing, pretty. The branches and twigs were moving, making tiny sounds. Hardly any from the road. A horse sometimes, a cart going up the road, to Pier’s farm, or down the road, past Koos’s. A cow being taken to a meadow. Shovel sounds from the stable. Sweeping ones from the coop. I shut my eyes, opened them again.

Something had changed. The sun was begimaing to stick up above the shed, and there, near me, a tiny bug was climbing up a bhde of grass. Long this morning, actually, very long. Maybe I should go for the walk again, stop at Spieker’s Diena for a while, see whether she had something new in the window, go as far as the

[97 SPRIqg baker. Walk slowly, I brushed my shoes across a cluster of rail weeds.

Later. “Having a good time, Annie?” Dientje was on her way to the stable. “Yes.” I smiled. She did not have to worry. Cheerfully she walked on. I would have liked to ask her whether or not she still thought Mother missed me. I had been gone for days now. Was she outside, too, in the garden with Nel? Maybe they were talking about me at this very moment. “I couldn’t have gotten a better daughter, Nel.

She’s wonderful. Learned so quickly. Never gives me any trouble. I don’t even understand it myself, because there was a lot she didn’t know. I wish it was Thursday already, so she’d be home. You should see her now.”

I slid down from the tree and went into the kitchen. I picked up the paper, put it down again. I ghnced at Opoe’s chair, the one they called easy. Hesitantly I walked into the good room.

Everything did look good in here. Only if ever they had more than twenty people visiting, they wouldn’t know where to put them. Restlessly I wandered on, up the stairs. The doors to the bedrooms were open. I walked into Johan and Dientje’s. The furniture … no carvings on anything, just wood and who knew from where? From trees in usselo probably.

Look how their bed was made. Covers all wrong. Their feet would sck out n no time, touch the footbo3rd, could make smudges. And the cum -it had been opened ju like that. Uneven, puckered No thought to it. Had it always been like that? Slowly I walked into the hack room, where Sini and I had spent so much time. What was the matter with me today, walking around, inspecting? If it hadn’t been for Johan and Dientje, I might not even be here. They’d taken us in just like that, had never even seen us.

“We’ve got the space, Dientje. We can’t let them get killed. They’re just kid” That bed-I had slept in it with them, all those years. And Sini, on the floor, close, too. So we’d be safe.

Live. I stared out the window. Coop, shed, stable. The wheelbarrow standing next to it—rusty. I stopped, bent my head, ashamed. It was the same wheelhar-row Johan had taken us out in that day, after we’d been in. hiding for two year We’d gone to the field all the way in the hack so we’d get some sun, see the sky, be like other people, a little.

Nice. That had been then thongh-a long time ago. What about now?

Special place, this. And the people in it .. special too. Would stay that way. Always. Only … hard to be here now. So many voic in my head.

Johan and Dientje’s, Mother’s. Didn’t know which one to listen to. Home, tomorrow. Can’t wait. Nicer there.

No smell of cows … Things for me to do. I got up, walked to the door.

Maybe I would watch Johan and Dientje again. They’d like that.

“Let’s sit in the good room tonight,” Dientje said.. “She’s showing off, Annie.” Johan laughed. We went in, the four of us. We were not laughing any more; not talk’ rag either. Dientje’s hands were folded in her lap.

Johan sat-quietly, smoking. There, Opoe was going to say something..

“We’ve got to try a different spot for the cab-hage, Johan.

They grew scrawny, like sprouts, where we had ‘em.” Somberly he crushed out his cigarette. “I know, Opoe was studying the edge of her apron.

“Let’s have something to eat,” she finally suggested. Quickly Dientje got up and went to the kitchen.

“Cut four nice pieces,” Opoe called out. Then to me, “We’ve saved part of a-cake. Dientje didn’t make it. The baker did.” Irarandy Vlekje came out from under Opoe’s chair, stood up against it, pawed her. “You can’t have any,” she said regretfully. “It’s too good. Don’t forget you’re a dog.

“where arc the cookies you baked?” Opoe’s hand aed Vlckc’s head. “cy were h for me, bu maybe she’ll lc you one.” Silence an. Slowly I ban on my cake. O w softe he under her e. “You like ig right?” Dient}e nodded to me. “Y.” I tk another bite, a bier one. Job had not touched s. My ey wdered to what w in the middle of the blg a bk hoing a bune of lere fled tether with ng. ffiene no6ced. “You know which one’s there, Annie? e fit one you wrote go , tel m how well thi worked out n you d your mother.

Johan and I were worried aut you. I’ cfie Annie, on the way home fm e wedding. I id to Johan, “What’s goi to hap to her?” She made you do I the work.” Diene fingered the package. “A lot of this lten you Ane.”

“Ja, ja, e mailman’s he all the time the days.” Johan w chee up. “As if I’ve g m oce. One &y, dung N Y’s, we had o lem at once. I’m not d. I had to bg e fellow here. Show him the photp aia; prove it.” He ted to the eh flong the w

“Hg hg he never ce fore &e w.

Remem, M? cept m b the b.”

“Every winter, Johan. And he’d say, “Coffee ready?” and sit for a while.

Two cups, I remember.” But not like now, Mother.” Dientje laughed. “No,”

Opoe conceded, “now he has bus’ mess here all the time.”

Solemnly she stared at ‘what was left of her cake. Again no one said anything. The only sounds came from Vlek’je. He was chewing the cookies.

Then he went back under the chair, became sril! too. “We haven’t heard from Sini for a long time.,” Dientje said, breaking the silence. “She must be forgetting us.” She laughed nervously. “Of course not, Dientje,”

Johan flared up. “What a thing to say. When she was a nurse in Enschedc, she came to visit all the time. She’s very, very busy.”

“Running around, if you ask me.” Opoe pm’sed her lips.

“Goddamnit, Ma, that’s not true,” Johan said in an angry voice. “Those kids she’s taking care of keep her going day and night. That’s why we haven’t heard from her. One of them is under a year, can’t even stand yet. We’ve got it in a letter.” He jumped Ul took the string off the bundle, and looked through the letters. “Here it is.” In a loud voice he began to read: “I may not even stay that much longer. I have to work so hard that I have no time for anything else”” Triumphantly he looked at

“Besides”-here his voice became a little hesitant

“I haven’t been able to find one Jewish boy I like.” Abruptly he sopped. “I guess that’s it.”

He tied the string around the bundle again. “Forget-ring us,” he muttered. “Dumb talk. After what we went through together?”: Uneasily I fidgeted on my chair. Too early to to bed yet. “They could become strangers, Johan, with ini of in a big city and Annie in that fancy house.”

“So what, woman? Won’t make any difference, not between us and the girls.”

“You’re awfully quiet, Annie.” Dientje looked at Johan.

“She used to talk much more during the war, remember?”

“And giggle,” Opoe added. “Fui-fui, time.”

“Sit on my lap.” Johan laughed. “I couldn’t keep’r ott. Like the devil, the minute I came’ upstairs, she’d climb on.”

“On mine, too, Johan,” Dientje reminded him. “Tell about the first time the girls came he during the war, Johan,” Opoe said eagerly.

He jumped up and pretended he was me. He stuck out a hand and said in an elegant voice, “How do you do, Mrs. Oosterveld.” The look on your face, Ma. None of us knew what she wanted with that hand. She didn’t know what a bunch of dumb peasants she had come to that only shake hands at weddings and funerals.” Johan laughed so hard he had to wipe the tears from his eyes. “We had a nice war, Annie. That, I must say.”

Rougmy he shoved his handkerchief back in his pocket. When he spoke again, it was hard to undesamd him. “We were a real family, then. We had kids.” On the other side of the room, next to their wed-dang picture, hung the photographs of Sini and me, smiling. “I think we’d better leave now, Annie.”

“Not yet, Johan,” Dientje protested. “It only takes you two minutes to get there. She doesn’t want to hang around that bus stop for an hour.”

Johan checked the clock again, frowned. “There’s no saying what time it really is. You can’t trust an antique. Besides, I’m not going to leave her there alone.”

“I want to come, Johan,” D. ientje said. Firmly he ‘shook his head.

“That wouldn’t be right, not the way people in Ussdo talk. “Look at

‘em,” they’d say, ‘they’re both going off as if they’ve got nothing better to do, and it’s a workday.” Now, that, we can’t do.” Wistfully Dientje looked at him. “You think

SO?”

“For sure.” He gulped the rest of his coffee down. “Here, Annie.” Opoe came into the kitchen. “For your Easter Sunday.” Looking mysterious, she gave me a bag. “Don’t open it till you get home. But they’re nice and fresh, cleaned off and every

“I’ll be careful not to break them, Opoe.” Awkwardly I stood there, waiting. Shouldn’t we go? But Dientje was talking about the next time.

“We’ll taker somewhere, Joban. On a Sunday, and we’ll both go, right after milking.” A real conversation, Johan fitting down again. “We could easily enough. I’ve already thought about it. I’ve even picked the place.”

“The waterwheel on the other side of Ussdo, Johan. Right?”

“Sure, Ma.” Now Joltan was pulling out his tobacco tin and hunting around for his cigarette paper. “It’s got big paddles, Annie. You won’t believe what you see. People go there these days just to look, they tell me. Stay for hours. Healthy there. ool, too … breezy.”

“They sell lemonade, I hear. I’ll get her a

“We could all have some.”

“And I’ll wear my new dress, the new one,” Diontic said. “If you’re going to be that fancy, woman, I’ll have to wear the suit.” They looked at me, all of them. “You’d better come back soon, Annie. We’ve got great plans.” I nodded. Finally Johan picked up my suitcase. “Come.” Dientje took my face beveen her hands.

“You’re sorry you have to go home, Annie?” Without waiting for an answer, she went on. “I know, you can’t help it. You promised’ . But you weren’t bored here?” Her voice trembled. I shook my head and kissed her.

Then I kissed

“Make sure you have the bag, Annie.” I held it up for her to see. “I put something else in it.” She chuckled. “For the trip … with big pats of butter … bread.” She came closer. “I can still hug you. I may never be able to again, as old as I am.” Don’t say that, Opoe.

Please. At the gate I turned. She was holding Vlekje.

Arm in arm, Johan and I began to walk, slowly. Wherever I looked, fields. The rye was already up, blades of green as roll as a hand, growing close together, rippling in the wind. There were black stretches, where the soil had just been turned up, and other parts still covered with weeds. A farmer was pushing his plow through those.

“C’mon, horse, get a move,” he yelled. “That’s Pier, Annie. You talked to him this

I had. I remembered. “Say hello to’m, Annie.” What if the bus came?

“He’s busy, Johan.” Anxiously I looked down the roa& “Nonsense. He’s got all day. Look, he’s close to the road now. C’mon, it won’t take long.”

With his elbow he nudged me toward Pier. Pier put down the handle of the plow and scanned the sky. “Morning,” Johan called out.

“How goes?”

“Johan, d’you think the good weather will last, or what?”

Joltan turned to me. “What do you think, Annie?”

“She came to visit you, I see.”

“She sure did.” Johan beamed. “For close to a week. It’s awfully nice, Pict, to have one of the kids around, let me tell you. I guess she can’t forget us. What d’you say?”

“She shouldn’t, Johan, not after what you did for her.”

“My life, I risked for them. More a person can’t do, Piety He waited.

Pier said no more about it. He’d gone on to something else. “The wife’s cousin broke the leg in two places. They had to taker to the hospital.

Not easy to have to go to the city and seer, with the potatoes coming up.”

“No, no, Piet, life isn’t easy.

Hard work, that’s

“Well—” Pict spat on his hands, robbed them together, and picked up the plow again. “Come, Annie,” Johan said quietly. Was he thinking that Pict used to call him a hero? I put my arm through his. At the bus stop Johan put my suitcase do n. His back was turned to me when he began to speak.