The Journey Back (14 page)

That’s all right, I guess. That’s the way it should be.” No’fiy Mother exchanged the magazine for her nail file. “This wind, it has not stopped howling for weeks. In Amsterdam you don’t have to just sit and listen to it. You don’t notice those things when you have somewhere to go.” Gray and dusty, the coals; powdery, the ashes. The room was getting chilly.

She could use the scarf now. I pushed it closer to her. “Here, put k on.” Anxiously I watched her. She didn’t want to?

No. She was giving it back. ““Don’t you know wool scarves never go on sofas? I didn’t teach you that. You only wear them when you’re outside.”

I blushed, quickly got up, put it hack in the hall. So hard to know what to do these days, or to say. Like the other evening, when I’d mentioned that Sini hardly ever wrote, either, or telephoned, just like Nel. It wasn’t the same, Mother said. She’d been angry. I sighed, checked the clock. Five more minutes … Should I go to the kitchen now? Maybe she’d like that. Then Father would sop reading sooner. I’d better go at exactly the right time. Perhaps now it was time. Quietly I went to the kitchen, urned on the faucet, held the kettle underneath it. No more walks at night, after the book. Too cold. Tea instead, all three of us.

With valk about cows, money, what we’d do with it. “I’ll buy a cr, Magda, so I can do more busi

“Visit Nel, Ies.”

“And see Rachel,” Father added quickly. “Annie could come with us.” With Pchel we’d wait, Mother thought. “She’s not going to leave the sanatorium in such a hurry anyway? But we could not get a car, Father had said later, not for a long time. He had sounded a little relieved.

There still weren’t enough ‘for all the doe-tors, who really needed them. , It would have been nice to visit Rachel, to sit with her … I suppose Mother was right though. I checked the water. Not boiling yet. I could do something else while I waited. I got out the pail, small shovel, screen, so Father could sift the ashes later and pick out the pieces of coal that were large enough to save, to add to tomorrow night’s fire.

It Was colder, even more bitter than before. Icy winds blew, comg enough crac d mdow fres, rfs, penemg tough la yen of clog. “What have we done to de ,” people agonized. “No matter what we do, we free.” e coa hy ce at . ere w no we either. en it w dk, my d opened up all over Holland, jmt a liale, and out sneaked people, was hand, to cut down ees, e way ey had dg e w. “at el m we do?” they whirred to each other, ams alrdy movg.

“We have to fend for olv. e government v m to.” Not oy in Hobd we wter bierly cold. Over much of Eope, it we e. Gemy, Nemberg.

When e pen fived with the late ream of e envmne men, e people of Hollmd were fom. “Look at them,” they yelled, ting fingert at the pices. “You don’ the to sing with blke wpped od em. In -sleeves yet. Jmfice,” they sneered. “A we of fd and good coal-at’s what it ” Mmy people were c md dton Md ouble ma hou cal. It w t cold md dippe for ek bidd e w not enough for those who had cars. The roads were empty. Only a few buses ran, to important cities. No, they did not stop in Ussdo. The gas …

Shivering, the people, stamping their feet. “Warm boots we need.”

“Trying to pacify us with socks.”

“Coats we want.”

“Abundance, abundance. Whoever said that was lying. The only thing we’ve got plenty of is bad weather.”

“Haven’t had a decent thing to eat since Christmas.”

“Now’s when we could use it.”

“A bowl of pea soup … Then, one evening, the queen spoke. We should be brave, she said. “This winter will pass too, just as all the other unpleasant things have passed.”

“Well,” people said sheepishly, “if the queen says so … “They looked ashamed, almost.

With us, nothing had change all Johan wrote. So did Rachel, and S’mi, occasionally. There was school; going to the mass cur I was putting on too much weight, he said. But Mother still didn’t think I ate enough. I ran home, though, every afternoon. “Did you see the mailman, Annie?”

Mother would greet me from the sofa. “I might have missed

She hadn’t. A new magazine was on the table. “I’m happy, Annie,” she said. “I’m not wor ,? rat,. AND WNTER

tied, or I’d call. Nel can take care of herself. I taught her well.”

“Yes, Mother.” Carefully, I sat down, trying not to wrinkle the cushions. Mother was silent. She didn’t look as happy as she said she was. Maybe I could cheer her up. How? Put on the potatoes? A little early still. I could suggest it though. “Mother?” No, not yet. Just as I had thought. But she smiled, a little. Nice. And on the winter went, on, in the same way. Until …“Annie, come here fast. The wonderful places she’s gone to, the things she,“s done. I told you … ” Look how happy she is, just holding Nel’s letter. Slowly I followed Mother into the house. 9.

Already the air smelled different, lighter, and the wind had lost its bite. Each day more snow was melting. Grass … could see it again.

Crocuses began to push up, green tips that grew, opened up, became purple and yellow. Burds returned, dots in the sky that grew bigger and bigger. They landed and began to sing the minute it became light in the morning.

In a small hollow outs a town somcwberc in Holland, a fisherman saw the first plover’s eggs, four of them, spotted, green and black. And in age-old tradition they were given to the queen to show her that spring had come. “It took long enough,” people said, but they were laughing and spending as much time out sid as possible again. That’s where I would go-out-as soon as this class was over. Wednesday … only half a day of school. I took another look out the window. So blue, the sky, only a few feathery patches of clouds, puffy ones, that moved, moved.

Finally, the bell rang. I ran as the others were doing, not caring whether Mr. Klaver yelled, “Whoever is in a hurry comes back.” Outside the door I sighed with relief. He hadn’t. Was someone calling? “Annie, wait for me. No one else is going my way.” Selma? Going home alone?

Must be. She was saying goodbye to her friends. “See you later, everybody,” turning to this one and that. I’d stand right here, where she could see me. “Selma?” She hadn’t heard, but it didn’t matter. I wouldn’t let her go without me. Where was she? Still at it, I saw.

“Bye, Kees … see you … see you … see you.” Waving, walking x73 FALL AND winter backward. Well, she couldn’t go on forever. First time I’d be alone with her. Maybe it would be nice. She might be different by herself. Now I could get to know her better. Not just anybody either, Selma .. popular. She was coming. I picked up my school bag hdd it dghdy. Now then. Timidly I walked next to her. I should say something, shouldn’t I? She was used to that. About school, that would be easy. Did she think Mr. Klaver was mean? “Uh-huh.”

“When he handed out those papers …“Uh-huh, same with me.” Peculiar answer. I glanced at her. She was smiling to herself almost as if she were miles away. “Selma, I thought we wouldn’t get that test till …”

“You won’t believe what’s happened to me. I’m going steady.” She paused.

“Going steady?” My goodness! “It happened yesterday, at the post office, as I was about to go in for stamps. I said to him, “I can’t decide here on the steps. This is too big a decision; give me at least till tomorrow.” He wouldn’t. “Two minutes,” he said, ‘that’s all.”

“He kept looking at his watch; he really meant it. I almost fainted. So what could I do? I said yes. It’s a great responsibility though. I don’t know whether I’m ready for it. See you tomorrow, Annie.” Baffled, I stared after her. She hadn’t even told me whom she was going steady with.

Kees? Who knew? Could be anybody. I crossed the railroad tracks. They were no longer rusty. Too many trains going over, polishing them. It had been kind of interesting, what she said, I had to admit. She wasn’t any different though from when I had heard her with the others. Same Selma-boys, boys, boys. I couldn’t listen to that dumb stuff all the time. I had more important things to do. Home, quickly, into the garden; see whether the pink hyacinth had opened.

Mother was In the garden. She looked very serious. I’d better. not disturb her. She must be thinking of what else to plant when the gardener came. I’d go right in, bring the potatoes out, and watch. They were waiting for me on the sink, with this knife I needed. I settled down on the grass, chose a potato from the pile, and began. Longer and longer the peel grew, curly, thin. We had gone shopping yesterday, Mother and I-for a skirt. We went s soon as we heard about them, before they were all gone. “How are you, Magda?” Mr. de Wind had said, I?$ FALL AND WINTER

coming over to us immediately. And then he asked which one of the ladies he could help. Me! I almost rushed ahead of him to the rack.

Skirts, a whole row of them. Beautiful … blue. I couldn’t wait to tl’y ore on. Mr. de Wind measured me, handed me one. I stepped into it. So nice and soft. It wouldn’t button though, no matter what I did: hold in my stomach, stop breathing. “I don’t understand,” Mother said to Mr. de Wind. “I never had that problem with Nd. You remember? It was as if the designer had her figure in mind. Hold your stomach in, Annie, and let me

I tried on several more. “Don’t worry,” Mother told Mr. de Wind. “It’s not your fault. We can’t expect them to make skirts to fit every size.”

We left. There was no point in looking anywhere else either, Mother said. We had gone to another store anyway, where they had material.

Gray, but almost a LITTLE blue-‘if you looked at it a certain way. And we got other things-thread, buttons, everything. The skirt would be beautiful. Mother sewed well. She had fl ready let out my clothes, couldn’t even tell where. She used to sew for Nel when they had nothing in the stores they liked. Mother had not wanted to make clothes again, didn’t enjoy it any more. But she was going to do it, though it would be a lot of work. She didn’t even complain about it, just said I didn’t have an easy figure.

Kept changing. Slowly I picked up another potato. So big. I glared at it. Thicker the peels. Shorter the curls. She’d never notice. Father took thereto the cows anyway. Footsteps on the road. “Broekman, here”

came Mother’s voice. “By ‘the hedge.” It was the gardener, his arms full of plants. “We can get started right away, Mrs. de Leeuw, and I’ll try not to take any longer than I have to,” he promised. But after every plant he put in, he slowly straightened his back. “A little bit of rest does a lot of good, Mrs. de Leeuw,” he explained, “especially in the spring when the ground doesn’t give.”

“If it helps the garden.”

Mother laughed. “It does,” he assured her, still stretching. “Good afternoon, Mrs. de Leeuw. Hi, Annie. What pretty things are going on here,” Maria called. “Come, Sweefie, let’s take a look.” Nudging her goat on with her knee, she came over. “Oh, oh, oh, I was right,” she marveled, leaning across the hedge. “When they’ve got those contests again; Mrs. de Leeuw, I bet your garden will get all the ribbons.”

Mother liked that. “Thank you,” she said. “And it will be all right if you want to come by every day and watch the progress.”

“We will, we will.” Maria beamed, lovingly looking down at her goat.

“Watch where you eat,” she scolded it. “That hedge has thorns. You know you can’t take those. What am I going to do with you? Come.”

“How can anyone love an animal that much?” Mother said wonderingly, looking after them.

“All they do is make a mess. Broekman,” she hinted, “I don’t like paying for leaning on shovels either.” Instantly the soil began to fly again. A few more plants went in, same way, with rests on the shovel in between.

Mother was joking now. Nice. Didn’t do that too often. Maybe she didn’t want him to quit. There weren’t that many gardeners, and he was a good one. Worked at the best places in town, Mother said. “As soon as you can, Broekman, I’d like azaleas, anemones, chrysanthemums.”

“I will, Mrs. de Leeuw. Get you some fine ones, too, and I’ll see you next week.” I smiled. Mother certainly knew how to handle him. She was walking around again, I saw, touching the evergreen that had been there for years, a shrub with leaves just unfolding. She stopped in

front of the forsythia bush. Carefully she pulled a branch closer, inspected it, then eased it back, not disturbing the flowers at all. She stepped back, admired it again. They were beautiful, even ydlower than when I had gone to school this morning. “It’s such a nice bush, Mother.”

She turned around. “That shows good taste

Confused I nodded. A complimeno Yes, definitely. I got to my feet, picked up the pail, the basket with peels-thick ones and thin. “If you had any talent,” Mother continued, could make a picture of it and keep it forever. n Briskly she went in. “Good taste,” she had said. After all months … Father had been right. Annie, and it’ll all come.:’ I looked at the bush once more, fondly. Then lightly, I went You have good taste, she said. Good aste, Part Four

SPRING

The weather held. One sunny day ran into another, as if trying to make up for lost time. The roads were crowded again with cars and hitchhikers. “How far can you take us? How far?” There were buses again, going in all directions this time, and stopping in many towns, no matter how small. “Goodbye, Mother.” I stood in the doorway. I had already said goodbye to Father a While ago, before he left for work.

“Have a nice time,” he had wished me. “And give my love to the Oostervelds.” I would. In less than two hours. Would Mother say it, too?

I looked at her. She was still getting dressed. She was wearing jewelry today, and a silk scarf. Pretty. ‘“Annie, …” Instantly I let go of the doorknob. “That pleat in the front doesn’t please me,” she said, frowning, pulling at it a little, “but it’s definitely not my sew’ rag They’ll like it. They’ll know I take good care of you.”

“Yes, Mother.”

“Yes, Mother?” Now she’d say it. “Be sure to change into your old skirt when you get there.” Of course. Nothing to worry about. Intently Mother was combing her hair, trying to swirl the waves this way, that way; different today. I waited another second. She was still combing …

Slowly I reached the road. I turned around to look at the house, the garden. In less than an hour Nel would come. Easter vacation for her, too.