Eternity and a day. Maria Spotlight
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goods as we did. So it was also always a fight that went hand in hand with the buyers' haggling. I helped mother to lift the boards from the carriage and set up the counter. Who had his stand where was determined by the traders themselves, in any case, the early bird catches the worm. Our stand was near the church. The place as such offered a lot of space for hustle and bustle and was fenced in by the houses of the townspeople. If you followed the street further south, you came to the remaining houses of the residents. Since it had rained here two days ago, the ground was muddy, and many had difficulties setting their goods properly. After several times at the market, mother and I already knew our way around and knew where the muddier places were. Today we had unfortunately caught one of them. Despite everything we managed to set up the counter for our goods quickly. I was fetching fruit and vegetables from the wagon when I noticed something. It came suddenly and with much discomfort. Over there, by the church wall, stood a figure wrapped in its own shadow. According to his stature, it must have been a man. He looked at me and in an uncanny way the discomfort disappeared and turned into familiarity. I stared back just as intensely. How long had he been standing there? I had not noticed him before, not even when we had come to the market.
"Emily, are you daydreaming again? Help me with the rest of the stuff", mother's grumpy announcement threw me back into the here and now. Once again I looked over to the church wall, the man had disappeared.
As well as I could, I tried to concentrate on the work, but the horrible pictures of yesterday were still haunting my mind. The fact that the market sometimes stank of rotten meat and fish didn't make the situation any better, nor did the fact that a horde of drunken men gathered in front of a tavern and bawled all over the place. As expected, the buyers haggled with us and not too little. Very often mother would make a bad bargain, I feared father would not agree with the amount of money we would bring home. Ignoring the noise and the smell at the market, I looked back at the church wall when someone came to our booth. It was the man from before, I recognized him immediately. He looked at me, his dark eyes frightened me, yet I could not turn away from them. In them the whole world seemed to lay.
"Forgive me“, he continued, „I hurt my hand the other day and now it hurts a little more. Could you help me?", he did not turn his eyes away from me.
"Well, can you not see that we do not carry such goods? We only sell meat, vegetables and fruit", mother teased him.
"Oh, how unfortunate!", the man was about to leave.
"Further down there is a stall, they sell herbs there", I objected, "the blond girl there sells them, but she has no idea about their effects. Ask her for some arnica, tell her it's the plant with the elongated leaves and yellow flowers. Boil it up, dip a cloth into the infusion and wrap the aching spot in it. Under no circumstances should you drink the infusion, it is only meant for external use. It should be better after a few days."
I myself was amazed at my words, they had left my mouth as if by magic. The man raised his right eyebrow, a benevolent smile flashed across his lips, briefly exposing his snow-white teeth.
"Thank you very much, my dear."
Then he disappeared. Mother pulled me to her by my arm and ended my trance.
"What's wrong with you? You should have chased him away instead of giving him advice, you stupid thing. And how do you know these things anyway?"
I turned my face to her, countered her with looks as disapproving as she looked at me. "I simply know."
She let go of me, I saw fear in her eyes. The day at the market was over, we'd sold everything. The profit was poor, as expected. On the way home, all I could think of was this mysterious stranger. I would never forget his eyes. The fact that I knew things I had not thought possible shocked me. But the words had simply slipped out of my mouth, as if this knowledge had always been there. While mother drove the carriage back I closed my eyes and thought of his eyes. And the darkness of his eyes enveloped my thoughts with their black wings.
Baptism in fire
We returned early in the evening. Father was already standing in the yard. His thick belly was pouring over his trousers, he also had greasy hair, like my brothers. He helped mother to lift the boards from the cart, then he wanted to see the money. Hidden in a bag, mother handed it to him. He shook it into his palm, surveying the amount with a grumpy look. His other hand jerked in mother's face, she fell to the ground.
"How many times have I told you to sell the goods at a reasonable price", he shouted at her.
Mother held her face, I had to watch everything, pity still didn't come over me. The place where he had hit her was already flaming red. Father reached out his hand to her, pulled her up from the ground and chased her into the house. A few moments later I too dared to follow, at first grateful that father's brutal punishment had not been for me. But don't count your chickens before they hatch. For the moment I might be in his favour, because I had killed the pig yesterday. And I should be right. I was helping mother in the kitchen and her lip was split on one side. I would have liked to tell her that a herb grew behind our house near the lake that would have relieved her pain when used correctly. But why should I? When father beat me, she never intervened. Dinner was over, no one had spoken a word. I wanted to clear the table, but father told me to light a fire in the living room, he wanted to sleep downstairs for the night, instead of laying with a woman, who was stupid enough to let herself be undercut on the market. I loaded large logs of wood from the pile behind the house onto my arms and brought them inside. The living room was meagerly furnished, two benches and a table, as well as the fireplace in the middle, adorned the room. Father thought that we didn't need anymore, that we were simple peasants who did without any comforts. I put the wood neatly on top of each other, pulled out the flints and struck sparks. Soon there was a crackling sound. As the rising fire burned away the dry wood, I thought again of the man on the marketplace. Not only his eyes had burned into my head, I remembered his face, which seemed to be carved out of the purest alabaster, and the dark hair, which sat enthroned on his head in an almost perfect cut. Plus his upright walk, as if he hadn't really walked, but rather floated. The door squeaked in its hinges, father entered the room, an angry expression on his face.
"Your mother told me what happened at the market today, Emily."
He walked towards me, slowly, with a posture that caused my heart to beat faster. I still tried to keep calm.
"So what?', I asked him, a slightly biting undertone lay on my voice; if only I had let it remain.
"SO WHAT?! Who do you think you're talking to, you harlot. I am your father and I will not tolerate this kind of behaviour. You're a disgrace to this family and I should..."
"I'm a disgrace?", I asked, "no, you are. You beat your own wife and child even though you know we keep the farm alive."
He stood there, speechless, my heart was pounding. From where did this newly acquired power suddenly come to rebel against my father? A moment of silence, which was abruptly interrupted by his frantic attack on me. He grabbed my throat, squeezed, I became dizzy.
"You will not raise your voice against me again, you understand! I will teach you respect."
His rough hands now brutally clasped my neck, he pressed my face against the fireplace with force. In a panic I drilled my fingers into his body and tried to somehow withstand his violent act. The flames came closer and closer to me, I screamed out , they would burn my flesh off my face.
"Now you will learn what your defiance costs you", father raged, but suddenly he cried out and let go of me. I gasped for breath and at the same time saw the unthinkable. The flames had spread to him, but how was that possible? Screaming in pain, he held the right side of his face, the embers burned into his flesh.
"NO!", I screamed and saw the embers go out again. Big blisters appeared. Father lay on the ground moaning and panting. The door flew open again, mother and my brothers rushed in. Mother was there at once, Thomas and Gabriel looked down on father bluntly. Their faces darkened when they realized what had happened. Their punishing looks whipped me. I left the room fleeing, not suspecting what horrors I had just conjured up.