fountainhead

2 e. sadie

the good lord knew well enough to close up my loins. how would it have been if i had had children? how would i possibly have found enough time to mother them as i have to spend so much time in this household cooking, cleaning, mothering and wifing this family?  jan-willem. he takes up much of my time, all on his own. he always wants me around. he calls for me soon enough if he cannot see me. or hear me be busy somewhere near him. what is it with the man? god knows, i did not ask for it. i did not know he would want to visit me in my sleeping place under the kitchen table, near the old aga stove. so many warm things took place in that warm kitchen, besides the cooking. i was not quite a young woman of fourteen. of course i should have expected it. the same thing had happened with my mother and jan-willem's father when she was that age. and on and on back in time, history has been repeated for ever. i was not made for this. i wish she had taken me with her instead of gerard, that son of hers. she must have known what was going on between jan-willem and myself, especially after what happened that june so long ago. everybody must have known what happened, even the boy; geena was still too young to realise, i think. and i noticed the look in the boy's eyes too. cocky, looking at me in that way; i am glad he left with his mother. it was a matter of time before he would have tried having his way with me and him being a puppy still. but what type of mother leaves a small child with the father anyway, to run off with a man to the city? it's not like she loved the man, i could tell. does she think five beautifully made dresses could make up for the loss of a mother? i saw her crying while she made those neat little dresses. i saw her stop in the middle of sewing small pleats because she was crying so hard that she had sewed the needle through the nail of her thumb and out the bottom of that finger, holding the material while her foot pressed down the pedal that made the little wheel on the side turn at a speed faster than a windmill when a storm was up. she had to turn it with her hand to maneuver the needle up and out of her flesh. there was hardly any blood, but i could see it hurt like hell. probably not nearly as much as her heart hurt, though. she worked very hard to finish those dresses in secrecy while the child was at school in the mornings. i wonder how she is doing. does she miss the girl as much as the child misses her? but how could she leave the child here? i cannot understand that and never will. for now i must make peace with how things are. i am well cared for. jan-willlem seems to truly love me and he takes good care of me. i have nearly enough money in my little trommeltjie. i will bide my time. and then i too, will go to the city. i do not want to live in this one horse town very much longer. i am young. my whole life lies ahead of me. i want to get away from here and make something of it. the child will manage. she does not need me the way she used to when she was younger. she has grown up and can look after herself quite well enough. and jan-willem will live.