Michael set the water buckets down on the bench in Agatha’s foyer and was about to leave when she caught him by the sleeve, signaling for him to follow her inside. He settled on a wide bench by the door, waiting for her next instructions.
The elderly woman silently retrieved a pot from the oven, gesturing toward the clock as if to say it was time for lunch. She poured cabbage soup into a large bowl, serving it with a slice of bacon, an onion, and a hunk of crusty bread. Then she remembered and placed a small bottle of homemade brew on the table. Her curved back was wrapped in a wool shawl. Although the house was warm, she wore woolen slippers.
Michael spoke quietly, “I won’t say no to some cabbage soup, but I won’t drink any of that, I’ve sworn off the stuff. I promised right in front of the vicar, after the last brawl in the village hall when I got jealous over Vera while drunk. I’m still surprised they didn’t lock me up. I had to pay for the broken chairs, though. Mum said your back was acting up, so I came to bring you some water. I’ll enjoy some of that soup, then bring in some firewood. Maybe I can help you with something else too. Whenever I sit down in front of the TV, Mum always seems to find something else for me to do,” Michael chuckled at his own wit until he choked.
Agatha began thumping his back with her fists as if she were hammering nails into the wall. Michael continued devouring the soup with the bacon and onion, then asked, “Gran, when you lie down to sleep, does your back straighten out, or do you sleep with it arched?”
Agatha’s eyes squinted with a smile, and she waved her hand dismissively. “I bet you were a real beauty back in the day, with all that hair and those arched eyebrows,” Michael continued. “Vera’s beautiful too! Just how can you not love her? Let me list her qualities. I bet you’ll run out of fingers: she’s beautiful, graceful, modest, kind, hardworking, tidy, clean, thrifty, sings well, dances beautifully, not greedy, never been married, doesn’t drink, doesn’t smoke, doesn’t go out on the town. See, so many qualities.”
Michael noticed Agatha laughing with her eyes. Her chest shook with silent mirth. “But you’ve got such beautiful, clear eyes for your age!” he noted. “Gran, you know Vera, don’t you?”
Agatha shrugged her shoulders, raising them as if to say, “How would I know if you’re any good or not?”
“Well, we’re not like you folks back then. You respected your parents, listened to them. As for us, we speak our minds. Dad always asks my opinion before doing anything, and Mum practically treats me as the head of the house. All my brothers have gone off to the cities. I’m the youngest, still here till I marry. I want to get married and have a large family. Vera’s a fine woman. As a vet, I know she’s healthy as a horse. Did I forget to mention she’s in good health? So, did you run out of fingers? Of course!”
Having eaten his fill, the warmth of the stove made Michael sleepy. Despite Agatha’s back troubles, the house was spotless, especially the large bed with its featherbed and towering pillows, all covered with an elegant bedspread.
He daydreamed aloud, “I’d love a bed like that on my wedding night. But maybe not; you’d roast under all that, and forget what you were meant to do.”
He continued aloud, “Once Vera finishes her studies and comes back to the village, we’ll throw a grand wedding. She’s training to be a nurse. Just imagine how great it’ll be: I’ll treat the animals while she takes care of people. Though my mum often calls Dad an animal. Frankly, none of us are better behaved. Did you hear about Steve? Stole Pete’s bike and drowned it in the lake. Really, can you believe it? And Victor almost set the barn on fire smoking in the hayloft. A total menace!”
“But the biggest rogue was Jack. He was seeing Nadia, got her pregnant, and then brought a fiancée back from the city. Poor Nadia went mad, we worried she might do something drastic. But yesterday she walked by, happily declaring she’s having a boy, saying God gave him as a blessing. I just wonder how that scoundrel can walk past his child’s house. But I’d never leave Vera! I look at her and just want to hug her so tightly she becomes a part of me. But she’s such a proper girl, won’t cross that line before the wedding. She’s set a boundary and won’t budge, even if I try to drag her over it. She’ll make a fine nurse; she’d have your back straight in no time! Her injections are painless, like a mosquito bite. I do think, though, once the farm grants us a cottage, I’ll miss you, Gran; we won’t be neighbors. But don’t worry, I’ll always have time to help you out and chat. Anything else to taste?”
Agatha efficiently pulled a pot of buckwheat porridge with meat from the oven, releasing a tantalizing aroma. Michael sniffed so hard, he nearly twisted his nose off. He took up a spoon and tapped it on the table like a child. Agatha beamed with satisfaction that her food pleased the young man.
“Why don’t you take a nap on that featherbed while I eat? Is it just for show? Don’t worry, Vera and I will put it to use someday.”
Michael choked again, but Agatha didn’t hit his back this time. She wanted to show her gratitude for his company, for not rushing home and sharing his time. Gently, she patted his back and planted a kiss on his head.
Rising from the table, Michael said, “How am I supposed to work with such a full belly? Guess I’ll have to sprawl out on the bed.”
Laughing, he headed outside, bringing in several armfuls of firewood, sweeping the hallway, visiting the pigsty to check the pig’s quarters, then bowing to Agatha and heading home.
“Mum, where have you been? Vera’s been ringing, and you’re out chatting forever with Agatha?”
“How could I leave? She’s always wanting to hear one thing or another,” he replied, laughing. “Mum, was she born mute?”
“No, son. During the war, she sang like a songbird, just like Vera Lynn. She’d go around singing patriotic songs. When the Germans came, she sang ‘The Sacred War’ as they were hanging partisans, and they cut her tongue out. The partisans saved her just before they finished her off. We thought she was born mute when she settled here, but the town clerk told us different. Her village dwindled, but ours is flourishing, so the council helped her get a house here. Sometimes, we people are worse than animals, tucked away in our own worlds.”
“Mum, she speaks with her eyes! I talked about Vera, and she practically glowed. And when I mentioned Jack, it seemed like lightning flashed from her eyes! And Mum, her hands are so gentle. Who is she to me? No one. Yet I just want to talk and share with her.”
“And do you know why? Because she’s kind and speaks soul-to-soul. And, Mum, she doesn’t use her hands like most mutes. It’s more like she’s thoughtful, not mute. Tomorrow, I promised to fix something in her barn, she really asked me to. So don’t pull any chores out of thin air; I’ll be busy.”
