Katerina's Wish (19 page)

“Now, the burgomaster had been thinking of taking a wife for some time, and at once he was intrigued by such a clever girl. So he gave the shepherd six eggs to take to Manka and said, ‘Tell your clever daughter that if she will hatch these eggs into chicks and bring them to me tomorrow, I will marry her.'”

“That's not fair,” Aneshka interrupted. “You can't hatch eggs overnight.”

“They would need their momma to hatch,” Holena said. I knew she was thinking of my chicks, dead in their nest. I wished Old Jan had picked a different story.

Old Jan smiled at my sisters and nodded. “The shepherd thought the same thing, and he was sorry, for he thought the burgomaster would make a fine son-in-law. But he took the eggs to his daughter and told her of the man's request.

“Manka only laughed. The next morning she gave her father a handful of grain and said, ‘Take this to the burgomaster and tell him that if he will grow a field of wheat for me and bring it to me tomorrow, I will know he is my equal and I will consent to be his wife.'

“When the burgomaster received this reply, he mounted his horse at once and rode to the shepherd's home, where on one knee, he asked the clever girl to marry him. She consented and they were wed. That night, after the wedding feast, he said to her, ‘You have proved to me that you will be a kind and honest wife, and so we will be happy. But you
must never use your cleverness against me or I will turn you out of my home.'

“They lived together for some time in happiness, for they lived by the principles of kindness and fairness that Manka had shown in her answers. But as the burgomaster grew older he grew lazy and eager for gain in his duties. One day, a dispute was brought to him from the marketplace. A farmer's mare had given birth to a foal, but a loud noise had scared the foal under a merchant's wagon, so the merchant claimed the foal was his. Now, the burgomaster knew the farmer was a poor man, while the merchant was wealthy and powerful, capable of giving many gifts and favors. So without much thought, the burgomaster gave the foal to the merchant, and the poor farmer went home with nothing for his trouble. When Manka saw the sad farmer leaving, she asked what was wrong and he told her. Manka at once told the farmer what to do.

“The next morning, the burgomaster stepped out his front door to see a fishnet strung across the road. The farmer was sitting nearby, watching it eagerly.

“‘What are you doing?' the burgomaster asked.

“‘Why, I am fishing,' replied the farmer.”

“Fishing in the road?” Aneshka said with a shriek of laughter.

“That is exactly what the burgomaster said. And the farmer replied, ‘Why, yes, for if a wagon can foal in this town, I would suppose that fish could be caught in its streets.'

“At once the burgomaster saw the wrong judgment he had made. But he also saw Manka's hand in the farmer's clever act, and so he went back inside and said to her, ‘I warned you never to use your cleverness against me. Now you must leave my house, as I said. But I am not hard-hearted. Take with you whatever you like best from our home, and return to your father.'

“‘Very well,' Manka said. ‘But please, husband, let us sup together one last time before I go.'

“The burgomaster agreed to this, so that evening Manka served him a fine, heavy supper and many tankards of good, strong beer, and before long, the burgomaster was snoring in his chair at the table. When he was asleep, Manka did as she had been told. She took her favorite thing and returned to her father's house.

“The next morning the burgomaster woke, confused, for he was in a shepherd's hut on the edge of the forest. He looked around, and there was Manka, preparing breakfast at the humble hearth.

“‘Where am I?' the burgomaster asked. ‘And how did I get here?'

“‘You are in my father's house,' Manka said, ‘for you said I could take with me my favorite thing in the house, and that, dear husband, is you.'

“When the burgomaster saw that she had once again outwitted him, he might have been angry, but he was not. For he saw what she said was true—she was his favorite thing too. He had married her for her cleverness, but he found that as they had given each other the kind thoughts, sweet love, and honest labor over the years, she had become his greatest treasure. And so he returned the foal to its rightful owner, apologized to his wife, and took her home, promising to never behave so badly again. And from that day on, when a particularly difficult case came before him, he always consulted his clever wife before he made his judgment. And with kindness and respect, they lived out their days in happiness.”

Aneshka clapped her hands in delight at the end of the story. I think she liked best that Manka had outsmarted her husband.
But Holena seemed to better understand Old Jan's meaning.

“I think Karel and Martina will be kind to each other too. I think they will be happy, even if they don't have much,” she said.

“I do too,” Mark said. “I think if you care about someone, you don't need much else to make you happy. What do you think, Trina?”

I had a hard time answering. As Old Jan had told the story, Mark's hand had found mine and closed around it. Now all I could think about was the feel of that hand and the happiness that eased the ache in my heart at its touch.

“It's the last Saturday of July this week. That means the community dance,” Mark said. “I think dancing with you is the last thing I need to completely heal me, Trina.”

I looked up to see Momma smiling and Aneshka glaring at me. I ignored them both and turned to Mark with a smile of my own. “I'll be ready at six,” I said.

MARK'S UNEVEN
gait did not improve much over the coming week, but he was determined to keep walking and gaining his strength. The day of the dance he stopped by our house in the morning and danced me around our porch in front of Momma and my sisters, just to prove he was well enough to go.

That afternoon, Momma helped me prepare. I bathed, and she brushed out my hair. I would wear it in a bun rather than my usual girlish braids. From her own trunk, she found her best dress, the one she had married in. She had not worn it since we left the Old Country. Now she offered it to me.

It felt good to put on a dress that reached to the floor, like an elegant lady. I was not yet a lady, though, as the loose bodice proved. My mother only smiled at the way the shapely dress fit my mostly shapeless frame.

“Soon, Trina. Don't worry,” she said, and she pinned the bodice under the arms where a few tucks would create a serviceable fit. She made the alterations without cutting the fabric. There
was no point in making the dress fit a girl's body now, when mine was on the verge of becoming a woman, she said.

My mother hummed happily as she worked, and it made me happy to see her so cheerful. It didn't even bother me when Aneshka came into the kitchen, scowled at us, and then stomped off to the backyard with an angry snort. She stayed in the back all afternoon, though I couldn't imagine why. The ruined chicken yard and garden had been such painful reminders of our failed dreams that I spent as little time as possible behind the house. How Aneshka could spend hours at a time with those reminders was beyond me.

By suppertime, I was ready for the dance, wearing my mother's fine dress and with my hair pinned neatly at the nape of my neck. My father smiled with pride when he saw me.

“My little Trina is becoming a woman,” he said, kissing me on the forehead. “And a beautiful woman, at that. Marek is a lucky fellow.”

My family sat down to supper, but I hardly ate a bite. I was afraid of spoiling my dress and I was feeling nervous. Even though I'd seen Mark every day since the accident, going to a dance with him was different.

Mark was in high spirits when he arrived to escort me to the dance. He, too, was clean and polished, in a suit that probably belonged to his father. His hair was trimmed and slicked down smoothly. He smiled hugely when he saw me, which made me blush. He complimented me politely and greeted my parents even more politely.

“You are looking well, Marek,” Papa said. “Why, to look at you now, no one would know you've been sick.”

“I am much better, thanks to your daughter. I am going back to work on Monday!” he announced.

He had meant this as good news, but the knot of fear I'd carried since the accident twisted tighter inside me. He wasn't yet well enough for the long hours of hard labor. He showed no sign of pain that evening as we danced or visited with the other young couples, though. In fact, he was so merry that I buried my misgivings. By the end of the evening I, too, was merry, and I was sorry when the fiddlers announced the last song.

Afterward, as Mark and I walked up the road toward home we could hear other couples whispering and giggling in the darkness. Mark's hand found mine and they clasped together. Our pace slowed, neither of us eager to end the evening. It was very romantic, at least until Mark broke the silence between us.

“Will we be getting more chickens?” he asked.

I was surprised by the question. My chickens were the last thing I'd been thinking about—or wanted to think about. “No. We haven't got the money, and besides, it all came to nothing last time.”

“That's not to say that it would come to nothing again, though, is it?”

I frowned, thinking that Mr. Johnson would not let me succeed, but I didn't say it. Mark had enough to worry about. “I was just thinking,” he said, “that the chickens would be a good idea for us now. With me having been out of work, it would be good if we had some means of food that costs no money at the store.”

“Maybe we should get chickens for you and your papa,” I said. “If you can bear to be a farmer.”

“The chicken house and fence is in your yard, but perhaps we could share the cost of the chickens. My papa can come and help you care for them. I don't mind that much farming for a good meal now and then.”

“What about the dogs?”

“We have to be more careful, that's all. That happened because no one was home. But if my papa came to look after them, that couldn't happen.”

“I don't know. It didn't work last time.”

“You aren't going to give up that easily, are you? It's just a minor setback,” he said a little impatiently. “Minor? I lost everything.”

We were in front of my house now, and we had stopped walking. In the darkness Mark pulled me to him and wrapped his arms around my waist. “Not everything,” he breathed into my hair. “You didn't lose me.”

I leaned my head against his chest, my chin just above the still-tender scar that had nearly killed him. I felt lucky to be wrapped in his arms, and I felt safe, too.

He bent forward and kissed me lightly on the forehead. I wanted to stay there like that, but he spoke again. “I think we can make the chickens work, and the garden. In a few more years we'll be the envy of the camp.”

I pressed my cheek in tighter against his chest, listening to his heartbeat. I tried not to think about the future when we would still be here, doing the same things, forever. He squeezed me to him in his strong arms for a long moment before finally bidding me good night and releasing me. I climbed the steps to my house and went inside alone. In the darkness, I changed into my nightdress and lay down on the bed. Aneshka rolled over immediately to face me.

“Did you set a date to marry him?” she whispered.

“Of course not! He's barely sixteen. That won't be for years yet.”

Aneshka slipped her hand into mine, much as she had the first horrible night after the mine accident. “Please, Trina. You can't give up on your wish—you just can't. I know I was selfish
with my wish, but I'll work extra hard for yours to make up for it, if you will just try too.”

I sighed. “Aneshka, I didn't give up on the wish. Everything was ruined, remember? Besides, wishes aren't real. It was just a game.”

“But you said you saw the fish,” whispered Holena from my other side. I hadn't even known she was awake. “You said you believed!”