Chapter VI

Chapter VI
Maria threw the door to Gertrude’s house open so violently that its hinges squealed violently. She rushed outside, thinking that her mother had gotten sick. Linnea wasn’t in sight. Maria looked around for the tracks of a wild animal or of another person, any clue to where Linnea might be, and why.
“Mother!” She called, beginning to sob. “Mother, Mother, where are you?” The noise she was making disturbed her younger siblings, and Maria heard Elaine racing out of Gertrude’s house as fast as her six year old legs could carry her, half carrying, half dragging Mathieu along behind her, as he still could not walk. When Elaine reached her, holding Mathieu by one arm and one leg, Maria had sunk down to the ground, and was weeping uncontrollably, ignoring the stains and dirt on her cleanest dress. Rescuing Mathieu from Elaine’s grasp, she hugged both children to her, ignoring their questions.
They sat together in silence, Maria crying, the bewildered Elaine watching, and little Mathieu asleep. It seemed to Maria as though time had stood still for hours, even though they had only been there for a few minutes. Maria had been recalling years of memories of her mother and wondering what would happen to her and her siblings, with their father too busy being a noble to care about the children he fathered, and their mother…dead, Maria presumed. Or kidnapped, as Maria knew that Linnea would never voluntarily leave her family. Besides, if she left, what would she do? Maria was the main breadwinner for their family, using her few specialized talents to bring in a meager amount of money, just barely enough to keep them alive if added to the money brought in from begging and other things. Linnea had no remarkable talents, and most occupations for average women were full.
Elaine’s childish voice broke into Maria’s thoughts.
“Look, Maria, what’s that?”
“What’s what, darling?”
“Shiny, over there!” Elaine escaped Maria’s hold and trotted over to pick up the “shiny”. When the mud had been wiped off with the hem of Elaine’s skirt, it proved to be a pewter angel.
“Maria, this is Mama’s. Let’s go give it back to her. It will be a surprise! Maria, where is Mama?”
“Elaine, sweetheart, I don’t know.” Maria’s voice felt as heavy as her heart. She took the cold metal trinket out of Elaine’s pudgy hand and placed it gently in her apron pocket. Once again absorbed in bleak thoughts about their even bleaker future, she picked Mathieu up and took Elaine’s hand in hers, and they walked back to Gertrude’s house, realizing never to let go of each other, because they were the only things they had left.