Read Online Mara by Lisette van de Heg - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Lisette van de Heg
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a good excuse.
When I was young I already had a strong dislike for the butcher who would always come for just one day to do his job. The man always wore a big leather belt, weighed down with all sorts of gruesome tools. Grandpa was the only one who seemed to notice my fear and he always made sure that at lunch time the butcher would sit as far away from me as possible. Sometimes, during the meal, Grandpa would give me a conspiratory wink.
‘What will you do in the evenings, when neighbors may drop by for a visit?’
‘I’ll stay in my room then too, I’ll have to. The Reverend was very clear in his letter. Besides…’
I stopped, but my mind wandered back to Mrs. Kleut and her remarks. I looked down and saw how my stomach revealed a slight swelling. I shivered and felt goose bumps on my arms. Auntie could think what she liked, but under no circumstances was I willing to be seen by anyone in this state, least of all the butcher.
Auntie fed the sows and we were soon back outside.
‘Just the chickens now, and then we’ll have breakfast,’ she said and led the way to the chicken coop which was located a little bit further from the farmhouse. She carried a basket with her. I recognized the basket from my youth. Feeding the chickens had been one of the chores I had been allowed to do as a six year old, and I remembered how I enjoyed throwing the grain around for the chickens.
Auntie opened the coop and the chickens came out before the first grain cornels had even touched the ground. While Auntie generously spread the grain around, I stepped into the coop and looked for eggs. I held up my apron and laid the eggs in it one by one. Auntie had some good laying hens and I thought to myself that, if there were always as many eggs as today, these hens must make her a good amount of money on the market.
When we were finished, the day had started to dawn and, as the sun started to brighten the day, we returned to the kitchen where a pile of pancakes awaited us.
7
I know that inside me life is growing, but how is this possible when I feel so lifeless myself? I feel withered like a dried up autumn leaf, but without the warm golden color that gives warmth and life to an otherwise dead leaf. I hate this creature that has taken over my body. I find it horrible that I no longer have control over my own body, that it grows, but not because I eat, that it hurts, but not because I injured myself.
And I hate him, who is to blame for it all. Hatred is something powerful, I can gain some strength from it. And since I no longer have a mother to encourage me and no God to depend on, strength is what I need.
‘Isn’t it a miracle?’ Auntie nodded toward my stomach, which seemed to grow faster each day. We were working on two more new dresses because of it.
‘Why a miracle?’ I was genuinely surprised. In my opinion my stomach grew into monstrous proportions because of a being I had never wanted.
‘It’s new life that is growing in you. If all goes well, it will have everything it should have.’ Auntie’s head was bent over the material and while she spoke, her nimble hands pulled the fabric quickly through the sewing machine, her voice sounded melancholy.
‘I don’t believe in miracles,’ I said gruffly. I didn’t want to speak of the thing that was slowly but surely taking over my body.
‘Maria.’ Now Auntie did raise her head. I noticed a moistness in the corner of her eye, but within moments it was gone.
‘Woman was created to bear children.’
She looked down again and her fingers seemed to pull the fabric through even faster. Up and down, up and down, the dark blue thread easily slipped through the fabric and sewed the pieces together. I took no notice of her words, they simply slipped off me and I didn’t respond. What could I have said, after all?
Auntie believed in God and in miracles. But I had turned my back to that God of hers. I saw a different god, though, one who punished and tested, a god who made
When I was young I already had a strong dislike for the butcher who would always come for just one day to do his job. The man always wore a big leather belt, weighed down with all sorts of gruesome tools. Grandpa was the only one who seemed to notice my fear and he always made sure that at lunch time the butcher would sit as far away from me as possible. Sometimes, during the meal, Grandpa would give me a conspiratory wink.
‘What will you do in the evenings, when neighbors may drop by for a visit?’
‘I’ll stay in my room then too, I’ll have to. The Reverend was very clear in his letter. Besides…’
I stopped, but my mind wandered back to Mrs. Kleut and her remarks. I looked down and saw how my stomach revealed a slight swelling. I shivered and felt goose bumps on my arms. Auntie could think what she liked, but under no circumstances was I willing to be seen by anyone in this state, least of all the butcher.
Auntie fed the sows and we were soon back outside.
‘Just the chickens now, and then we’ll have breakfast,’ she said and led the way to the chicken coop which was located a little bit further from the farmhouse. She carried a basket with her. I recognized the basket from my youth. Feeding the chickens had been one of the chores I had been allowed to do as a six year old, and I remembered how I enjoyed throwing the grain around for the chickens.
Auntie opened the coop and the chickens came out before the first grain cornels had even touched the ground. While Auntie generously spread the grain around, I stepped into the coop and looked for eggs. I held up my apron and laid the eggs in it one by one. Auntie had some good laying hens and I thought to myself that, if there were always as many eggs as today, these hens must make her a good amount of money on the market.
When we were finished, the day had started to dawn and, as the sun started to brighten the day, we returned to the kitchen where a pile of pancakes awaited us.
7
I know that inside me life is growing, but how is this possible when I feel so lifeless myself? I feel withered like a dried up autumn leaf, but without the warm golden color that gives warmth and life to an otherwise dead leaf. I hate this creature that has taken over my body. I find it horrible that I no longer have control over my own body, that it grows, but not because I eat, that it hurts, but not because I injured myself.
And I hate him, who is to blame for it all. Hatred is something powerful, I can gain some strength from it. And since I no longer have a mother to encourage me and no God to depend on, strength is what I need.
‘Isn’t it a miracle?’ Auntie nodded toward my stomach, which seemed to grow faster each day. We were working on two more new dresses because of it.
‘Why a miracle?’ I was genuinely surprised. In my opinion my stomach grew into monstrous proportions because of a being I had never wanted.
‘It’s new life that is growing in you. If all goes well, it will have everything it should have.’ Auntie’s head was bent over the material and while she spoke, her nimble hands pulled the fabric quickly through the sewing machine, her voice sounded melancholy.
‘I don’t believe in miracles,’ I said gruffly. I didn’t want to speak of the thing that was slowly but surely taking over my body.
‘Maria.’ Now Auntie did raise her head. I noticed a moistness in the corner of her eye, but within moments it was gone.
‘Woman was created to bear children.’
She looked down again and her fingers seemed to pull the fabric through even faster. Up and down, up and down, the dark blue thread easily slipped through the fabric and sewed the pieces together. I took no notice of her words, they simply slipped off me and I didn’t respond. What could I have said, after all?
Auntie believed in God and in miracles. But I had turned my back to that God of hers. I saw a different god, though, one who punished and tested, a god who made
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