Michael placed the buckets of water on the bench in Agatha’s hallway and was about to leave when the elderly woman grabbed his sleeve, signaling for him to follow her into the house. He sat on the wide bench near the door, waiting for her next instructions.
The hostess quietly took a pot from the stove and gestured towards the clock, indicating it was lunchtime. She poured cabbage soup into a large bowl, served it with a slice of ham, an onion, and a crusty piece of bread. Then she remembered and set out a quarter-bottle of homemade brew. Her hunched back was wrapped in a woolen shawl. Though it was warm inside, she wore boots.
Michael softly said, “Oh, I can’t say no to this soup. But I won’t drink the brew; I promised not to touch it. I even swore on the Bible and told the vicar I wouldn’t. Last time, I caused a scene at the club, got jealous over Vera while drunk. Surprised I wasn’t thrown in jail. Had to pay for the broken chairs. Mum said your back’s been troubling you, so I came by to bring you water. I’ll have some soup, and then I’ll bring in some firewood. Maybe you’ll find some other work for me. Whenever Mum sees me near the TV, she seems to conjure up chores out of thin air.”
Michael laughed so hard at his own joke that he choked. Agatha began thumping his back as if nailing a picture to the wall. Michael continued to dig into the soup with ham and onion, then asked, “Granny, when you go to bed, does your back straighten out, or do you have to lie curled up like a bow?”
Agatha looked at Michael with her bright, smiling eyes and waved dismissively.
“You must have been a beauty when you were young, such a head of hair, with eyebrows like arches across your forehead, and eyes that must have sparkled like fireflies at night. My Vera is a beauty too! You see, how could you not love her? Let me list her qualities, and you keep count: beautiful, graceful, modest, kind, hardworking, neat, tidy, frugal, sings well, dances beautifully, doesn’t drink, doesn’t smoke, has never married. See, so many virtues.”
Michael saw that Agatha’s eyes were laughing, though no sound came out. “Granny, you have such beautiful, clear eyes for your age!” he noted. “You know Vera, right?”
Agatha lifted her hands, shoulders shrugged, indicating, “Who can say what you’re like, good or bad?”
“Indeed, we’re not like you. You feared your parents and obeyed. If something doesn’t suit us, we speak up and hang the consequences. Dad always consults me before doing anything. Mum practically treats me like the man of the house. My brothers have flown the nest, and I’m the youngest, so until I marry, I live with them. I want to marry and have lots of kids. Vera is robust. I can say as a vet; she can have as many as possible. Oh, I forgot to mention, she’s healthy. Ran out of fingers, eh? Thought so!”
Michael finished his meal, growing drowsy in the warmth of the house. Despite Agatha’s back troubles, the house was immaculate. Particularly striking was the large bed with a feather mattress, pillows piled high, and a decorative bedspread.
Michael mused aloud, “I’d love a bed like that for my wedding night! On second thoughts, perhaps not, lest I sweat rapidly beneath the covers and forget everything else.”
He continued aloud, “Once Vera finishes her studies, returns to the village, we’ll have a big wedding. She’s training to be a nurse. Perfect, right? I’ll treat animals, she’ll look after people. Although Mum often calls Dad a ‘beast.’ We’re hardly better, are we? Heard about Stepen taking Peter’s motorbike and drowning it in the lake? What a rascal! And Victor nearly burned down the barn smoking! Another rascal!
But the biggest sneak was Simon. He led Mary on, got her pregnant before bringing a bride from the city. Mary nearly lost her mind; we feared she might harm herself. Yesterday, she came by, expecting, smiling, saying she’ll soon have a boy, a blessing from above. But what about that sneak, passing by, knowing his son lives within? How can he? I’d never abandon Vera! I look at her, and I long to hold her so tightly! So closely! Until we’re as one. But she’s proper, you know, nothing before the wedding. That wedding draws the line and, come what may, I won’t drag her across it. She’ll be a superb nurse, straighten your back in no time! Her injections are painless, like a mosquito bite. And I think, once our place is given, I’ll miss you, Granny, living apart. But I’ll always make time to visit and help out. What else do you have to try?”
Agatha quickly fetched another dish, a meat dish that filled the air with a delicious aroma. Michael sniffed so hungrily that his nose nearly twisted itself out of shape. He grabbed a spoon, banging it like a child. Agatha’s eyes shone with delight, pleased her food was enjoyed.
“You rest on the bed while I eat. Or is it just for decoration? We’ll break it in with Vera, somehow.”
Michael choked again, but Agatha didn’t thump his back this time. She felt a rush of affection, grateful for the good company, for the boy who shared his thoughts, spent his time with her instead of rushing home. Her rough, calloused hands gently patted his back before she kissed his head.
Michael left the table laughing, “How am I supposed to work with a full belly? Best collapse on the bed.”
He headed outside, bringing in armfuls of firewood, sweeping the hallway, visiting the pigsty to check, then bowed to Agatha and went home.
“Where’ve you been? Vera’s been calling everywhere. Not done chatting with Agatha?”
“Once she starts asking for stories, it’s hard to leave,” laughed Michael. “Mum, was she mute from birth?”
“No, love. As a girl, during the war, she sang as beautifully as you please. Used to sing patriotic songs around the village. When the troops came, and she sang ‘A Nation Once Again,’ they cut out her tongue. But she was rescued before they could finish her off. We always thought she was born like it, until recently. Her village faded, ours flourished with a helping hand from the council. Funny how we shut ourselves in and forget others. She may be mute, but she understands everything.”
“Mum, she speaks with her eyes! I talk about Vera, and she lights up. When I mentioned Simon, you should’ve seen the fire in her eyes! And you know, Mum, her hands are gentle. She’s technically a stranger, but I want to talk with her.”
“You know why? Because she’s kind, speaks from the heart. And, Mum, she doesn’t wave her arms like a mute. She’s more like she’s thoughtful. I promised to help fix something in her barn tomorrow. She’ll be waiting. So don’t drum up chores for me; I’m busy.”
