The Journey Back (15 page)

In town the day had also begun. Bedding was hanging across windowsills, to air. In the Misterstraat the first of the new windows in the stores were being washed. With long, careful strokes, Mr. de Wind moved a sponge across his window. “Doesn’t it look wonderful,” he called over to his neighbor. “I have only three more boards to get rid of. By Christm I’ll be all set. The government promised.” Near them a woman was sweeping the sidewalk. Her broom was stiff and scrarchy-also new.

Other sounds in the street; the milkman’s bell as he made his rounds.

Customers rushed over to his cart with a pot, a coupon. In the marketplace the farm-en had already set up their stands and were calling attention to their wares. “Look ‘ere, look ‘ere.” I stopped. So many flowers-purples, yellows, reds, all of those in one; pansies, spilling over the side of the pails. Bong, bong.

I’d better hurry, run. At the bus stop I joined the end of the line. I was just in time. The sound of the horn, loud and hoarse, came from around the corner. The line began to move.

The bus was full of people going on vacation, or visiting just for the day. Someone across from me was talking about that. “After supper tonight we can come home, wife. Not like the other time, remember? We stood on the road waiting for a car so long that we had to turn around and sleep at the kids’ house after all? And the dog kept us up all night?”

“I’m glad we didn’t try that again,” his wife grumbled.

“Driver, you’re sure now about the return schedule?” Relaxed, she leaned back. We were no longer in Winterswijk. We had reached the main road. I looked at my suitcase.

rue jouasgv sex 84 Mother’s. It was an old one, a little scratched.

Carefully I moved it out from under my neighbor’s feet. We were already in Groenlo, I saw, and nearly through it. Only a few houses now along a narrow street. Then nothing but the road again. Nel-closer and closer … I even knew what stop her train was at now-Zutphen. “And once she’s there, Annie, it’s almost as if she’s home already.” I sighed. I didn’t want to think about that. Johan and Dientje-I hadn’t seen them in so long, not since the wedding. And Opoe-even longer than that. It would be nice. I wouldn’t have to walk just so, eat just so, sit … not always have to think of what to do next. Just be with them … be me.

They might have left their house already, could even be at the bus stop now, waiting for me. I’d make sure I’d be the first one off. I glanced out the window. Not there yet. Another village to go. Now almost.

Quickly I walked to the front of the bus to remind the driver. “Ussdo?”

he repeated. “Not too many calls for that place.” I got off. I was the only one.

Where were Johan and Dientje? For a second I stood still, thinking.

Maybe they had not been able to figure out the time. Sure, with my handwriting? Well, I’d get there myself. I began to walk down the road.

“Hi.” I waved back at a man on a cart. People were friendly here, and it was so quiet, none of the big town noises Winterswijk had.

There was something new. Where the rubble from the old bakery had been was a shed with a sign, “Good bread and rolls here.” And look, in Spieker Diena’s store, four different-colored socks were on display, temptingly dangling from a clothesline that was stretched all the way across the window. Faster now. Almost, almost. Right there, the farm, the geranium beds in front of the house. Two people running toward me.

“I told you, Dientje, we can’t tell with that clock. She’s here already.”

“Be careful with her, Johan,” Dientje warned. “You just came from the stable.”

“Ah, woman,” he yelled jubilantly, “she doesn’t care.

See? She hasn’t changed a bit. She’s still our little Armie.”

Opoe was rushing over, too, laughing and wiping her face on her apron before she offered me her cheek. So wonderful to be back. Now I realized how much I had missed them. Holding their hands, I went in the house.

“She looks tired, Johan.”

“Not like she used to.”

“Sit in Ma’s chair.”

“No, not you, Vlekje.”

“Nice and plump though”-interrupting each other, tripping over their words. “I see a real figure on’r.” Opoe came closer to get a better look. “And the skirt-beautiful.”

“I got something new, too, Annie.” Dientje beamed. “I’ll show you later, after we eat.”

“How are your father, and, and your”-rapidly she hurried on-“mother?

That’s good, that’s good.” On, right away. “D’you have friends?”

“Sort of,” I said hesitantly. The walk home with Selma …“Ah, friends, I want to hear about learning. How are you doing with those formulas we talked about?”

“Physics?” I laughed. “Horrible, Johan.”

“The calf Annie-Annie, now that you’re here it sounds so funny calling her that-she’s something, Frisky.” Johan made his hands leap in the air.

“I’ll show you later.”

I nodded vigorously. “I’ve got so much to tell you, Annie. Can’t put it all in a letter.”

“I know, Johan. But they were fine letters.” Not like this though-o. the piece of news after another, with Opoe and Dientje making sure he didn’t forget anything. “Johan, tell her about the minlqter,” Dientje urged.

“Goddamnit, Annie. Yes. Remember, since the parsonage got bombed he’s been living with people down the road? And he couldn’t stand their cooking? Ja, that I wrote. Well-” He paused, rubbed his nose, and settled his feet more comfortably on another chair.

“One day Mr. Harmink came here and said, “You take him. It’s only for a couple of days. Then he’ll go to someone else’s house.”

“I said to him, “That’s the same thing you told us when you brought Annie and Sini, and look how long that lasted. That was wonderful, but I’m not SUre I can stand having a minister underfoot.””

“With the way Johan talks sometimes, Annie, we weren’t sure the minister would put up with

I giggled. “Ja, she knows, woman, I don’t hide anything. But I said, “Let’m come for an evening. I’ll try him out.” I did, Annie. Nothing bothered him, nothing.

Couldn’t tell he was a minister except for looking at him. Ha, ha, three weeks he stayed. That Mr. Hannink always fools us.”

“And he ate”-Opoe shook her head-“as if he did real work.”

“He liked what I cooked, Annie. And we don’t eat out of the pan any more. Regular plates we’re using, and all the time the way you do in Winterswijk, not just for birthdays.” Dientje’s face looked flushed.

“That couldn’t be helped,” Opoe said gravely, “with a minister in the.

house.”

“Ja, jay Johan laughed. “Many fe! lowerer mankind have passed through my house.

Jews, Germans, Canadians, and now the minister. I said that nicely, Annie, didn’t I?” Johan grid triumphantly. “Fellow mankind? Ja, ja, I learn easy enough, even though I never did go to school much -English, church tlk, everything.”

“Johan, that Willem-”

“Ja, Ma, I’m getting there. Remember him, Annie?

He was picked up on Liberation Day? He’s out of jail again and back on his farm. That’s how it goes. Came home looking good, too. Had a nice rest, I guess. And everyone in Ussdo tlks to him again. “Life goes on,”

they say. “We’ve got to forget.” But me”-Johan raised his voice-“I still hate him, that traitor. I wouldn’t say good moin to’m even if he said it to me.”

“And Johan, tell’r about the crime Ussdo had.”

“Can you believe, a bag of nails disappeared from Berend’s shed. And who did it still isn’t saying.”

“Annie looks exhausted from all the news.” They laughed. “That tiny Ussdo, eh? Ja, ja, not everything happens just in big towns.” The door opened. A woman came in, tittering. Leida, who else? “Hiya, everyone. I bet Annie doesn’t recognize me now that I’ve got teeth.”

“I do.” I laughed. “They don’t work, Annie; they only look good. I can’t wear them when I eat. They hurt so. I should take’m back to that dentist to complain, but every time I sit down in his chair he wants something else from me before he begins. Last time it was a ham. They say I should go to the police, but I hate to do that.”

“Yes, yes.” Understandingly everyone nodded. “Well““Leida was smiling again-“if-you’re finished with the paper, I’ll take it, Johan.

Ever since the war, we all read the news in Usselo.” She giggled. “We don’t want to be surprised again. I’ve got a radio, but who’s in the house long enough to sit and listen to it? Annie’s looking at the date of the paper.” She roared. “Three days old, she thinks, and Leida here calls it news.

Johan, I’ve got to run. You tell’r we want to know what’s going on, but we don’t want to spend the money on it, so we all share.” Sheepishly Johan looked at me. Leida stuck her head back in. “Annie, I’ll see you.

I suppose you’re staying for a while.”

“She sure is,” Johan answered, “through Easter at least. She’s got to help us eat the eggs, Leida.” I’d like to … The door closed again.

Leida’s laughter faded and was gone. There was something I had to say.

“Johan,” I began. “How many eggs can you eat this year, Annie? Six, eh?

Ha, more I bet.

Eight? Dientje, maybe a couple of dozen like me.” I had to tell them.

Couldn’t wait any longer. I blurted it out. “I won’t be here on Sunday.”

They stared, all three of them; didn’t believe me. I said i again, “I won’t be here-” I swallowed, waited. “When?” Johan demanded.

His face Couldn’t look at him. “Thursday,” I whispered. Now he knew.

His voice. “Did you hear that, Ma, Dientje? Goddamnit, Annie, you can’t do that. You’ve got to stay longer.”

I shook my head. I couldn’t. “Why not.” I closed my eyes-Mother.

“What d’you want to go to Ussdo for? You just saw them in October. That should be enough for anyone. Well, if you want to, go ahead, for four days. Johan’s voice again. “Tell me.”

“So much work to do for school,” I whispered. “And maybe her mother will miss’r if she stays longer. Right, Annie?” Anxiously Dientje looked at me. Grateful, I nodded. Yes, that was it. But Johan was still upset.

“She has her all the t’mae. We’ve talked about you all winter, Annie.

You don’t know.

Wait till she comes, we kept saying. Can’t be later than Eastertime.

And we’ll sit around the table and eat eggs like we did a couple of years in a row. Sini can’t be here. That we understand. But you …”

Please, Johan, no more. I can’t stand it. “Nothing ever goes the way it should. Never has, either. Before the war, I didn’t notice. Now I see it.”

“God-o-god-o-god, Johan, enough.” Heavily Opoe got up, looked for something in the cabinet, found it. Cups. “Fui-fui, that Annie must think we’ve got nothing to drink here.”

Silence. Only Dientje’s fingers rubbing the table back and forth. Even that sound stopped. She got up, went to the stove, reached for the coffeepot. “I hope you made it right this tune,” Opoe said, “not water), as you usually do.” Dientje winked and poured me a cup anyway.

Timidly I looked at Johan. He put his hand on mine, squeezed it. “I know it’s not your fault. I just got carried away.” He picked up his cup, drank. I did, too. Relaxing, all of again, and talking; but nice talk now, not like the other. I snuggled deeper into Opoe’s easy chair and swung my legs across the

“Happy you’re here?” Dientje asked. Yes. The begonias on the windowsill, the kettle on the stove, hissing a little just as it always did. Yes.

Noon dinner was over. The plates were waiting by the pump to be washed.

“Annie, want me to show you now?” With a red face Dientje hurried ahead of me up the stairs. “I have it in the closet” she stopped and looked proudly at me over he shoulder-“on a hanger.” She rushed into her bedroom, opened the closet door, and gingerly lifted something out.

“It’s a dress. What d’you think it, Annie? Tell me honestly.”

“I like it, I)ientje. It has such a nice pocket.”

“Yes, doesn’t it?” She wriggled her hand into it. “You can tell it’s lace, can’t you?”

“Yes, and those buttons.”

“Aren’t they pretty?”

Dientje agreed. “They’re different, you see that? They’re not round, and they’re shiny? Spieker’s Diena has beautiful things, Annie.”

Lovingly Dientje’s hands slid down the skirt. “It took an awful lot of coupons, mine and most of Opoe’s,” she whispered, listening for footsteps on the stairs. “Don’t tell ‘em. I know it isn’t exactly what your mother had on at the wedding, Annie, but it’s a little like it, you think?”

“It matches your eyes, Dientje.” Shyly she looked at me. “Ja, kind of blue, right? I can’t wait till I have some place to go, so I can wear it. And I can say to people, it’s almost like Mrs. de Leeuw’s dress.”

Carefully she hung it back in the closet. “I’m learning things, too, Annie. Just like Johan.”

I closed the stable door behind me. “See you later, Johan.” Maybe I’d take a tiny rest, for a few minutes, no more. I knew exactly where, a wonderful place-in the apple tree along the side of the house, the one with the low branch that looked like a bench. One more peek in the chicken coop … in the kitchen … still doing the laundry. I sat down.

Comfortable; pretty, too. Bloom everywhere, above my head, around, almost on my head … closed most of them … red … I leaned back, carefully stretched out my legs. Almost straight again. Soon no one would ever be able to tell they had been crooked. I began to whistle, a French tune about a garden, like this one … trees. There were so many things to look at. The whole side of the house, the shed, the stable, the chicken coop, the gate to my right, even a little bit of the road beyond. And the meadow-I just had to turn my head a little, and there was the calf tied to a post. That frisky.

“The cows were glad to get out, too, Annie. Don’t kid yourself, they get tired of standing in the same spot all winter.” There, the special cow with the one black ear, had crossed the meadow again, udder swaying.

We had a talk about the cow, Johan and I, in the stable. “She’s been giving so much milk,” he said, excited. “Five extra guilders worth last week, and I’m putting it all away. Guess for what? A tractor. You know what I’m going to do with it? Everyone’s work. Pict’s, Koos’s, and all the others’ who don’t want to do it themselves. Yep. They’ll ask me, you’ll see. Ahh, before you know it I’ll be driving around all the fields, sitting down, getting z95 SPRING