Читать книгу Eternity and a day - Maria Spotlight - Страница 10

We returned early in the evening. Father was already standing in the yard. His thick belly was pouring over his trousers, he also had greasy hair, like my brothers. He helped mother to lift the boards from the cart, then he wanted to see the money. Hidden in a bag, mother handed it to him. He shook it into his palm, surveying the amount with a grumpy look. His other hand jerked in mother's face, she fell to the ground.

"How many times have I told you to sell the goods at a reasonable price", he shouted at her.

Mother held her face, I had to watch everything, pity still didn't come over me. The place where he had hit her was already flaming red. Father reached out his hand to her, pulled her up from the ground and chased her into the house. A few moments later I too dared to follow, at first grateful that father's brutal punishment had not been for me. But don't count your chickens before they hatch. For the moment I might be in his favour, because I had killed the pig yesterday. And I should be right. I was helping mother in the kitchen and her lip was split on one side. I would have liked to tell her that a herb grew behind our house near the lake that would have relieved her pain when used correctly. But why should I? When father beat me, she never intervened. Dinner was over, no one had spoken a word. I wanted to clear the table, but father told me to light a fire in the living room, he wanted to sleep downstairs for the night, instead of laying with a woman, who was stupid enough to let herself be undercut on the market. I loaded large logs of wood from the pile behind the house onto my arms and brought them inside. The living room was meagerly furnished, two benches and a table, as well as the fireplace in the middle, adorned the room. Father thought that we didn't need anymore, that we were simple peasants who did without any comforts. I put the wood neatly on top of each other, pulled out the flints and struck sparks. Soon there was a crackling sound. As the rising fire burned away the dry wood, I thought again of the man on the marketplace. Not only his eyes had burned into my head, I remembered his face, which seemed to be carved out of the purest alabaster, and the dark hair, which sat enthroned on his head in an almost perfect cut. Plus his upright walk, as if he hadn't really walked, but rather floated. The door squeaked in its hinges, father entered the room, an angry expression on his face.

"Your mother told me what happened at the market today, Emily."

He walked towards me, slowly, with a posture that caused my heart to beat faster. I still tried to keep calm.

"So what?', I asked him, a slightly biting undertone lay on my voice; if only I had let it remain.

"SO WHAT?! Who do you think you're talking to, you harlot. I am your father and I will not tolerate this kind of behaviour. You're a disgrace to this family and I should..."

"I'm a disgrace?", I asked, "no, you are. You beat your own wife and child even though you know we keep the farm alive."

He stood there, speechless, my heart was pounding. From where did this newly acquired power suddenly come to rebel against my father? A moment of silence, which was abruptly interrupted by his frantic attack on me. He grabbed my throat, squeezed, I became dizzy.

"You will not raise your voice against me again, you understand! I will teach you respect."

His rough hands now brutally clasped my neck, he pressed my face against the fireplace with force. In a panic I drilled my fingers into his body and tried to somehow withstand his violent act. The flames came closer and closer to me, I screamed out , they would burn my flesh off my face.

"Now you will learn what your defiance costs you", father raged, but suddenly he cried out and let go of me. I gasped for breath and at the same time saw the unthinkable. The flames had spread to him, but how was that possible? Screaming in pain, he held the right side of his face, the embers burned into his flesh.

"NO!", I screamed and saw the embers go out again. Big blisters appeared. Father lay on the ground moaning and panting. The door flew open again, mother and my brothers rushed in. Mother was there at once, Thomas and Gabriel looked down on father bluntly. Their faces darkened when they realized what had happened. Their punishing looks whipped me. I left the room fleeing, not suspecting what horrors I had just conjured up.