Читать книгу The Women of Janowka - Helmut Exner - Страница 13

– Chapter 6 –

Please, Lord, let me be pregnant, said Serafine half to herself and and half to God while she led her one-horse carriage over the dusty road to Solomiak. Up to now, she had been living a settled life. Her passions had been singing and reading. Two years ago a certain young man came regularly to Solomiak and started besieging her like a cat would approach hot rice pudding longing for the moment when no one was watching. Since then, she’d discovered her third passion – Friedrich. They had either met secretly or pretended to just run into each other on the road. Of course, her parents noticed what was going on. But why ever not? mother Pauline thought. Friedrich is a good boy from a respectable family. He’ll have his own farmstead some day, and Serafine will make a good farmer’s wife. She could work hard without complaining. One day, Friedrich, all of a sudden, was invited into the house by her parents, since they wanted to take a closer look at him and his intentions.

“You’ve been coming to Solomiak quite often lately, Friedrich,” said the father, Karl Rattai. “I guess business keeps attracting you here, right?”

“Not only.”

“Well, what else then?”

“Well, there’s a girl of whom I’m very fond.”

“Ah, a girl. Would you tell me who that girl is?”

“Her name is Serafine and she is your daughter.”

“You must be joking, boy, just like your father. But that’s exactly what I like about him. It appears you’ve picked a few things up from him. If you’re working as hard as your father, I don’t mind if you and Serafine make plans for a future life together. You are thinking about the future, aren’t you? Or are you just interested in a short pleasure?”

“No... I mean yes, of course, it’s about building a life for ourselves.”

Finally, after having talked to his parents, too, the Rattais took Friedrich into the family as a fiancé while Serafine was welcomed by his parents as a daughter-in-law. When their plans to get married advanced, both families met and gave some financial support, so that the young couple could take over the farmstead of an emigrant. Neither family had been poor; and besides, property was cheap at the moment because there was plenty up for sale.

Feeling more than blessed and contented to finally be sharing a life with someone she loved dearly, all Serafine needed to make her happiness complete was a ‘bundle of joy’. If she had interpreted all indications correctly, she was indeed pregnant. What a tingling feeling! Hence, she had been in good spirits when she noticed Salomon busy at his milk wagon.

“Any news from Kostopol, Salomon?” asked Serafine, after she delivered her butter.

“Ze times are gradually getting worse wherever du may look. Life has become miserable in ze schtetl and even in ze villages folks complain more.”

“Oh Salomon, stop always painting things so black. I know things haven’t been going too well. More and more people are leaving.”

“It smells of war. Ze deitsche emperor’s been rattling ze sabre. Ze Austrian has been struggling to hold his empire together. And ze Tsar has been dragging more and more young fellas into his army. If I didn’t have to care far ze Mischpoke, far foter, moter and aunt, I’d go to America.”

“Well, Salomon, we can’t just all leave. It’s good that you stay here. Otherwise, from where would people get their butter?”

Today, Serafine wasn’t in the right mood to listen to Salomon’s pessimistic words. She didn’t want anything or anyone to spoil her hopeful thoughts. Now, Salomon was even talking about war.

For God’s sake. Let me just get out of here quickly.

“Anyway, I must go now. Please say hello to your parents from me, Salomon. Your father used to come here often in the past. But I haven’t seen him for ages.”

“Ze parents have bekum old. Still, they run zere store from early in ze morning till evening.”

Serafine headed her carriage towards her parents’ farmstead. Her brother Rudolf, a young man of marriageable age, was just coming out of the pigpen, waving at her and then escorting her to the house where Mother Pauline was waiting for them in the kitchen.

“Well, how are you doing, my girl? Are you still happily married? Let me have a look a you.” She took her daughter by the shoulders and looked right into her the face. “Well, you’re looking good. I think, it’s going to be a girl.”

“But Mother, how on earth do you know what’s going on with me? I’m not sure myself yet.”

“Believe me, it’s true. You’ll see! It would be a miracle if a woman from our fertile family was not pregnant yet after half a year of marriage. At least, this is something pleasent. Everything else is terrible.”

“What is so terrible?”

Her mother took a letter from the kitchen cupboard, sat down at the table and started to read out loud, until tears suffocated her voice. Her oldest daughter who lived a day trip away in another colony had fallen seriously ill not long ago. They gathered from the letter that she had worsened. Serafine just sat there, as rigid as a statue, while her mother said in her slightly recovering voice: “I have to go and see her – come what may. I know she has a good mother-in-law doing her utmost to care for her, but I believe she really needs me now. Oh God, I’ve been worrying myself sick about her. What’s happening to my child?”

All of Serafine’s joy, after her mother had confirmed her suspected pregnancy, was gone. Goodness me, Justina, why don’t you give me a sign when you’re in such a bad way? I can’t stand the thought something is happening to you and I can’t be there to help you. Such is life then – joy and sorrow have always been close companions. She set off for home feeling sad and pondering the turn of events. It hurt her to see her mother cry and Justina’s illness weighed on her mind. She always had a close relationship with her sister.They’d been kindred spirits since they were little girls and could communicate with each other without saying a word. They had often enjoyed themselves by reading each other’s thoughts. Later, things developed so that one girl knew when the other was in trouble. When Justina married and moved away, both sisters agreed on ‘letting each other know’ when something ‘happened’. There was no need of any more words, as both were aware of how that would happen and, of course, that it would work, too.

When she arrived at home, it was suppertime. Serafine cut the fresh bread which her mother had given her into slices and put lard, sausages, cheese and cucumbers on the table. Then she called Friedrich who had just finished milking the cows to come in.

After grace Serafine said: “I think, I’m going to the parish hall later on to attend choir practice. Actually, I don’t really feel like it with this marvellous weather. But I have to take my mind off something.”

“Why? Isn’t it enough if you just think of me?”

“Today, I’m afraid it’s not enough. My sister has gotten worse. I have a very bad feeling.”

“Okay, then go and sing. I’m having a bath in the river, and later on, I’m going to try the beer you brewed.”

Despite the warm summer’s evening, on which most people would rather rest in their gardens from the day’s hard work, the parish hall was well visited. There were several women but only a few men from the village, two women from Solomiak as well as the young Ukrainian woman who had been staying and working with neighbours all summer long. The sexton was the choirmaster. People sang German, Russian, Ukrainian and Polish folk songs. Every singer had a handwritten songbook containing all the lyrics. Because only a few were able to read music, hardly anybody had taken the effort and time to transfer the notations from the sexton’s sheets.

Meanwhile, Gottlieb had picked up his brother Friedrich to go to the river with him. In order to enjoy this evening properly, they had each taken along two bottles of Serafine’s beer.

“This is the life!” said Friedrich. The two men sat on big rocks by the river and had each started on their seond bottle of beer. They still hadn’t dressed. Because they rarely drank alcohol, the beer was having its effect. Both became livelier and more boisterous. Then Gottlieb waded into the half dried-out river and slung a handful of mud at Friedrich.

“Damn! You’ll get that back!”

He ran behind Gottlieb and did his best to also sling mud at his brother. When all was said and done, both looked like ghosts from outer space.

“Mud is healthy,” said Friedrich while he kept on loading himself with mud, until only his eyes poked out of the grey-brown mire. Gottlieb copied.

“Serafine should see us like this. That would be heaps of fun. Imagine, she enters the house and we rush down the stairs roaring and grunting like wild boars,” suggested Friedrich.

Hardly able to control their laughter, they went into action. When they reached the house, the mud on their bodies had already dried. They expected Serafine to return home from singing any moment, so both men went upstairs to hide. It wasn’t long before they heard somebody open the front door. Making the most terrible and harsh noise, Friedrich slowly went downstairs, followed by his brother Gottlieb. It took a few seconds until they noticed that in the kitchen – apart from Serafine – there was also their mother Christine as well as the sexton’s wife. All were paralysed by fear and unable to believe what they were seeing. It was the sexton’s wife who first started to scream hysterically, followed by Serafine. Christine was the first to recognize that these muddy creatures weren’t monsters but her sons.

“You maniacs!” she shouted.

Serafine’s screaming turned into chuckling, while the sexton’s wife yelled with rage: “You blasted guys! One should give you a proper thrashing. I almost died. Look at you! You’re prancing naked before women. Shame on you!”

“But we’re wearing mud suits,” snorted Friedrich with laughter, still gasping for air.

“Off with you! Wash yourselves and get dressed!” interrupted Christine with a mixture of indignation and convulsions of laughter. “I’ll tell your father to give you a good hiding.”

“I doubt that. If he knew what fun this was, he would have joined us for sure,” shouted Gottlieb, as he ran out of the back door.

And he was right about that. When Christine and Gottlieb told him about the incident later on, Karl said to his son: “Why didn’t you let me know about your plan? I would have given something to see that silly horse face of the sexton’s wife.”

“She is such a nice woman,” said Christine.

“I’m not saying she’s not a nice woman. But her face looks like a mare that’s being serviced by a stallion.”

“Karl, oh Karl, you will not change any more in your life. It’s not a mystery why your sons can never think of anything sensible. As if I hadn’t been punished enough with such a husband, I had to get another two sons who are the spitting image of you.”

And since Karl always needed to have the last word, he answered: “The fruit of the womb is his reward...” After a short pause he added: “As arrows in the hand of a mighty man, so are the children of youth.”

Christine was speechless, while Gottlieb chuckled to himself about his father’s words.