Her Mother's Hope (16 page)

“It’ll be dark before you’re finished.” Mama sounded annoyed. “But we’re not leaving this table until you do. You won’t grow stronger otherwise.” Leaning back in her chair, Mama grimaced.

“Are you mad, Mama?”

Mama stared off down the street. “Not at you.”

When Hildemara finally managed to swallow the last piece of carrot, Mama took some coins from her purse and gave them to the waitress. Hildemara’s legs ached after the long walk with Papa, but she didn’t complain. She clutched Mama’s hand more tightly when they came near a crowd gathering at the center of town. Other children stood with their parents, and everyone looked at them as they walked through the crowd. Hildemara stayed as close to Mama’s side as she could without stepping on her hem. Mama kept craning her neck. “There’s Papa.” He stood with the man who had been digging a ditch, and several others had joined them. “Where’s Bernhard? Where’s Clotilde?” Mama looked around.

“Over there.” Papa pointed toward a group of children standing near a platform. He grinned. “Santa Claus is coming.” He returned his attention to the men.

“Go on, Hildemara.”

“No.” She didn’t want to let go of Mama’s hand.

Mama leaned down. “Clotilde is almost two years younger than you and she’s not afraid. Now, go on.” She looked into Hildemara’s eyes and her expression softened. “I’m right here. I can see you, and you can see me.” She turned Hildemara around and gave her a gentle push.

Hildemara looked for her brother and sister. She could see them toward the front, near the platform. Biting her lip, Hildemara stayed near the back, afraid to make her way between the others.

A man mounted the wooden platform and gave a speech. Then four men came up in vests, one with a harmonica, and they sang. Everyone clapped so loudly, they sang another. A little girl in a short green and red satin dress, black tights, and an embroidered vest came up onto the platform. While someone played a fiddle, the girl’s feet tapped, her red curls bouncing up and down. Hildemara stared in fascination. When the song ended, the girl held out her skirt and curtsied, then ran down the steps to her proud mother.

“Santa’s coming!” someone shouted, and bells jingled as a big man dressed in a red suit fringed with white appeared. He wore high black boots and carried a big sack on his back and called out “Ho! Ho! Ho!” to the excited laughter of children.

Terrified, Hildemara looked back. Mama was laughing. When Papa put his arm around her, she didn’t try to pull away. Hildemara turned back to the platform and watched her brother and sister swarming onto the platform with the other children. Hildemara didn’t move.

The man in red raised his head and called out in a booming voice. “It’s a stampede!” Laughing with the crowd, he bent down and pulled out a small bag, handing it to the little girl in the green and red dress with the shiny black shoes. More bags appeared, clutched by excited hands.

When Bernhard came down from the platform, he had already opened his. It was filled with hard candy with flowery designs, peanuts covered in chocolate, and candy-covered almonds. Clotilde had a paper sack, too. “Can I have one?” Hildemara asked. Clotilde jerked her sack away and turned her back.

“Hildemara!” Mama called. She waved her hand. Hildemara understood. She was to go up on that platform and get a sack, too. Only she couldn’t. When she looked up at the big man and all those children surrounding him, she couldn’t move.

“Aren’t you going?” Bernhard jutted his chin. When she shook her head, he thrust his sack into her hand and dashed up the steps.

“Back again?” Santa shook his head. “One sack per customer, sonny.”

“It’s for my sister.” Bernhard called out and pointed at her.

Santa looked down at her. “Come on up here, little girl. I won’t bite you.” People laughed all around her. Someone pushed her. Hildemara dug her heels in and started to cry. Looking back over her shoulder, she saw Mama frown and close her eyes.

Bernhard returned to Hildemara’s side. “Stop crying like a baby!” Bernhard growled, thrusting the sack of candy into her hand. Clotilde shrieked and ran toward Mama and Papa, holding her sack high. Head down, Hildemara followed Bernhard back to where Mama and Papa waited.

Mama stared at her. It wasn’t the first time time Hildemara had seen disappointment in her mother’s eyes.

16

Papa went out every day to look for work. He met another nice man who said they could live temporarily on his property near an irrigation canal. Mama and Papa argued about it, and then Mama bought canvas to make a tent. Her fingers bled before she finished it, but she kept on, jaw set tight. “I used to dream about living with you in a bedouin tent, Niclas. Now I know it for romantic nonsense!”

Papa said Mama knew how to make all kinds of things. “Her papa was a tailor.”

Later that night, Hildemara awakened to shouting. Mama had spoken loudly many times since leaving Canada, but this time Papa shouted back. Hildemara scooted closer to Bernhard and they huddled in the darkness as Mama and Papa argued loudly in German.

“Enough!” Papa caught hold of Mama and gave her a hard shake.
“Enough!”
He spoke in a low, intense voice, but Hildemara didn’t understand the words. Crying, Mama tried to break free. He wouldn’t let her go. He said more and she started to cry, not soft, broken cries of defeat, but harsh, sobbing sounds that frightened Hildemara even more than Mama’s anger had. Papa’s hands fell away from her. He said something more and walked away.

Bernhard jumped to his feet and ran after him. “Papa! Don’t go, Papa!”

“Go back to your mother!” Papa told him.

“No! I want you, Papa!”

Papa knelt in the sandy soil and spoke to him. “I’m coming back,
Sohn
.” He straightened and looked at Mama. “God told me to bring my family here, and God will take care of us.” He put his hand on Bernhard’s head and looked down. “Do you believe me?”

“I believe you, Papa.”

“Then help Mama believe. Do what she tells you while I’m gone.” He walked off into the night.

Mama told Bernhard to get back inside the tent and go to sleep. She sat outside for a long time, her head in her hands. Then she came in and lay down between Hildemara and Clotilde. Hildemara turned to her. “I love you, Mama.”

“Hush.” Mama drew a shuddering breath and turned away. Her shoulders shook for a long time and Hildemara heard soft, muffled sounds in the darkness.

Shaking awake, Hildemara found Mama standing above her. “Get up. There’s water in the bowl. Wash up and get dressed. We’re going into town.”

“Is Papa back?”

“No. And we’re not waiting for him.” She clapped her hands. “Come on. Hurry! We’re not sleeping on the ground one more night!”

When they reached town, Mama took them into the biggest store. All kinds of merchandise had been stacked up on shelves reaching to the ceiling and on tables all around the spacious room. “You can look, but don’t touch,” Mama told them. Turning, she gave her list to the man behind the counter.

Bernhard headed for a train set in the front window. Clotilde stood at the line of jars filled with candy, while Hildemara wandered between the rows of tables. She spotted a blue-eyed doll in a fancy dress, ribbons in its curly blonde hair. Hildemara wanted to touch it, but held her hands clasped tightly behind her back.

“Do you like that doll?”

After a brief glance at the smiling lady in the blue dress, Hildemara looked at the doll. “She’s very pretty.”

“Maybe Santa Claus will bring you a nice doll just like that one for Christmas.”

“Papa said we already had Christmas.”

“Oh? And what did you get?”

“We came to America.”

It rained again that afternoon. Mama sat inside the tent, looking out while Bernhard and Clotilde played with a ball she had purchased. Hildemara chewed her nails and watched Mama. When they became hungry, Mama gave them hunks of a loaf of bread she had bought from the bakery.

Papa came back in the afternoon. Mama got up quickly and went out to him. They talked for a long time outside. When they came back inside, Mama opened two cans of Campbell’s soup for dinner.

“I’ll try again tomorrow.” Papa sounded tired. He didn’t look happy, even when he smiled at Hildie.

It was almost dark when they heard a woman call out to them. “Hello!”

Mama mumbled something in German and Papa went outside. When he called to her, Mama rose. “Stay inside! It’s sprinkling again.” Bernhard and Clotilde crawled over to the tent opening and peered out into the misty dusk. Hildemara joined them.

Two women sat in a carriage. Hildemara recognized the lady in blue who had spoken to her that morning. They handed boxes down to Mama and Papa. Papa brought two inside the tent while Mama talked to the ladies. When Mama came in, her eyes were moist with tears. Hildemara leaned forward, inhaling deeply. Something smelled wonderful. When she peered out again, the lady waved to her. Hildemara waved back.

“What did they bring us, Mama?” Bernhard fell to his knees as Mama opened the first box.

“Close the flap, Hildemara,” Mama said hoarsely. “You’re letting the cold air in.”

Papa carefully removed a large covered roasting pan. When he lifted the lid, he looked happy again. “Look how God provides. Turkey and stuffing, roasted yams.”

“It’s those women who provided,” Mama told him tersely.

“It’s God who works on the heart. Look at this feast, children.”

Mama took out a jar of cranberry sauce, two tins of cookies, two loaves of fresh-baked bread, a dozen eggs, two jars of homemade jam, and several cans of milk. Sniffling, she turned away and blew her nose.

“What’s in the gunnysack, Papa?”

“Well, I don’t know. I guess we have to look.” Papa opened it and took out the beautiful doll with blue eyes and blonde curls. “This looks exactly like you, Clotilde.”

“Mine! Mine!” Clotilde clapped her hands and reached out. Hildemara’s heart dropped as Papa handed the doll over to her younger sister. She bit her lip, but didn’t tell Papa she knew the doll had been meant for her. She looked at Clotilde clutching it tightly against her heart and knew she’d never have it now. Hildemara sat back on her heels and blinked away tears. When she glanced up again, she saw Mama staring at her. Mama had seen her talking to the lady, and Mama had seen her admiring that doll.

“Are you going to speak up, Hildemara?”

Hildemara looked at the doll again and back at Mama.

“You’d better start learning right now you have to speak up for yourself.”

“What’s wrong?” Papa’s eyes moved between Mama and Hildemara.

Mama was still looking at her. “Is anything wrong?”

Hildemara looked at her sister playing happily with the doll. She knew if she said it had been meant for her, Clotilde would scream and cry. Maybe if she simply waited, Clotilde would get tired of the doll after a while and then she could play with it.

“What about me, Papa?” Bernhard pressed. “Is there anything for me?”

“Well, let’s see.” Papa reached into the sack and pulled out a wooden airplane. Bernhard took it and started right off pretending to fly it around the tent while Papa fished in the sack. “One more.” He pulled out a rag doll with a simple blue and white dotted swiss dress, brown yarn hair, and big, brown button eyes. “And this is for you, Hildemara.” Papa tossed it to her.

Bernhard spoke up. “Hildie liked the other one, Mama. She saw it at the store. She was talking to that lady—”

“Well, she didn’t say so, did she? So she gets what she gets.”

Papa looked at Mama. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“She has to learn to speak up!”

“She’s a little girl.”

“She’s almost five! Clotilde is only three, and she had no trouble telling you what she wanted.”

“Marta.” Papa spoke in soft reprimand.

Bernhard edged between them. “There’s something else in the bag, Papa.”

The kind ladies hadn’t forgotten anyone. Papa received a pair of leather work gloves, and Mama got a beautiful white crocheted shawl.

Papa prayed and carved the turkey, and Mama filled the plates with food. When they all finished eating the feast, Bernhard went back to playing with his airplane and Clotilde with her doll.

Hildemara felt an uncomfortable twisting inside her as she watched her sister play with the blonde, blue-eyed doll. When she noticed Mama looking at her, Hildie felt her cheeks bloom hot with shame. She bowed her head.

Mama wrapped the new shawl tightly around her shoulders and went outside. Papa put his hand on Hildie’s head. “I’m sorry,
Liebling
.” He rose and ducked out of the tent.

Hildemara could hear her parents talking in muted voices. Mama sounded agitated. Papa spoke German. Hildemara felt worse, knowing they were talking about her.

She sat the doll on her knees and studied it again. She thought of the lady in blue who had brought the boxes. Maybe she had made the rag doll. That made it special. Hildemara touched the glassy button eyes again and traced the stitched pink smile. “I love you no matter how you look.” Hugging it close, she lay on her mat and pulled the blanket up over her shoulders.

* * *

Mama got up before dawn every morning, made the fire, and fixed breakfast for Papa. Hildemara always awakened to their quiet voices. She felt easier with them talking to one another. When Mama yelled, Hildemara felt sick to her stomach.

“English, Niclas. You can’t keep falling back into German. They will wonder if you backed the Kaiser.”

“Mr. Musashi is teaching me to prune trees and vines. Mr. Pimentel has taught me a lot about the soil.”

“And what good is all that if you haven’t a place of your own; isn’t that what you want to say?”

“Marta . . .”

“Not yet. I’m not willing to gamble.”

Mama packed Papa cheese, bread, and two apples before he went off to work. Mama never ate until after Papa left, and most of the time, her breakfast didn’t stay down long. “Are you sick, Mama?”

“It’ll pass in a month or two.” She dabbed at her forehead with the back of her hand. “And don’t say a word about it to Papa. He’ll know soon enough.”

Mama usually felt better by midday, but she had no patience with Bernhard or Clotilde, and even less for Hildemara. Everyone did his best to stay out of her way. Mama had Bernhard bring water, and she had Hildemara straighten up the sleeping bags she had sewn out of old blankets. Clotilde played with the doll. Bernhard went fishing in the irrigation canal, but never caught anything, and Hildemara peeled potatoes while Mama washed clothes in a big washtub and hung garments on a rope she strung between two trees.

When Papa came home dusty and dirty, she had warm water and soap so he could wash. Hildemara stayed close enough to hear. “I’m taking the children to school tomorrow and register them. It would be better for them if they had a permanent address.”

“Yes. And when you open your purse, we’ll have a permanent address.”

“Find a place to sharecrop. When you prove to me you know enough to make a living at farming, I’ll give you what you need.”

“I could take it, Marta. What’s yours became mine when we married.”

She stiffened. “We’re in America now, not Germany. What’s mine stays mine unless I say otherwise. Don’t think you can boss me around and I’ll sit quietly by as your slave!”

Papa looked sad, not angry. “I’m not your father.”

Mama winced. “No. You’re not. But you refused to listen to me once before, and look what happened.”

He wiped soap from the back of his neck. “Don’t keep reminding me.”

“You choose to forget.”

He threw the towel down. “I choose to try again!”

She stepped forward, chin jutting. “And I choose to wait and see if this is God’s will or man’s whim!” She headed back for the washtub.

“You get more ill-tempered by the day!”

Mama lifted her head, her eyes filling with tears. “Maybe it has something to do with crossing a continent and coming to this end-of-the-road town. Maybe it has to do with winter and being cold and no roof over our heads and expecting another baby!” She wadded up his shirt and threw it in the dirt. “Wash your own clothes!” She walked off toward the irrigation canal and sat with her back to him.

When Papa finished washing, he went out and sat beside her. He put his arm around her shoulders and drew her close to his side.

* * *

They dressed in their finest before Mama ushered them to town the next morning. “Stay out of the puddles and try to stay clean!” Bernhard ran ahead, but Clotilde and Hildemara walked behind Mama like goslings behind a mama goose. They walked past fragrant willows, down Main Street with its spread of buildings, across State Highway 99, and past one small general store, ending up at a small white building with a bell tower and red shingle roof.

Mama ran her hands through Bernhard’s thick, blond, spiky hair and brushed down Hildemara’s gingham dress. She lifted Clotilde to a bench. “You sit right here, all three of you, and don’t move.” She gave Bernhard a stern look. “If you wander off, Bernhard, I’ll use Papa’s belt on you when we get home.” She had never used the belt on any of them, but the look in her eyes told them she meant business.

Bernhard fidgeted. He looked longingly at the teeter-totter and swings, the monkey bars and sandbox. Clotilde sat forward and swung her legs. Hildemara sat still, hands folded, praying she wouldn’t be accepted, praying she would be able to stay home with Mama.

Mama came back. “Christmas vacation will be over after New Year’s. Bernhard, you and Hildemara start school Monday next.”

Hildemara’s lip began to tremble.

Clotilde stuck her lower lip out. “I wanna go, too!”

“You’ll have to wait. You have to be five to go to school.”

“I’m not five, Mama.”

“You’ll be five before the end of January. That’s close enough.”