Between Worlds 2: The Distance

The clock chimed three, and it was nearly time to leave: Elisabeth needed to cook supper. She looked over to Anna’s handiwork to see how far she’d come. Anna had chosen a simple rose pattern for her handkerchief: two roses in each corner, their petals stitched in red thread and their leaves and stem in green. Seven of the eight roses were already finished, and Elisabeth knew Mammi would certainly be upset if her daughters left without finishing.

“That looks lovely,” Elisabeth said, and Anna beamed. The other women glanced over at the young girl’s work and nodded in approval.

“You’ll make a fine wife someday if you keep up with that,” said Margarethe-Néni. “And speak a little more. We’ve hardly heard you say a thing these past several hours.”

Anna’s temples twitched, but no one seemed to notice.The conversation simply continued about others in the village. Elisabeth had had to stifle yawns several times to prevent herself from drifting off to sleep, stabbing herself with her needle, or thinking about Tata. Why hadn’t she heard from him yet? She glanced up at the crucifix that hung over the doorway. Was Tata truly so far away that not even Jesus could see him? Why else wouldn’t Jesus give Elisabeth a sign that he was well? She was trying so hard to be a pious girl—surely some good must come of her efforts?

“Anna, finish up,” she said to her sister. “We should go: I need to start supper shortly.”

She headed through the kitchen into the back room to retrieve their shawls. As she returned, Georg entered through the house door. His short hair was neatly trimmed, his face shaven clean, and his broad chest and thick arms showed no signs of feebleness. He removed his hat and nodded.

“Hello, Elisabeth,” he said, though without a smile.

The creases in his face made him look older than he was. If he had been anyone else, Elisabeth would have taken his still face to mean something rude, and indeed, many in the village did view him that way. His shaking, his unfriendly greetings, his quiet demeanour—all these things often embarrassed his family. But he was a trades-man: he would take over his father’s blacksmith shop someday, so that—and only that—gave him respect, because there were few tradesmen among the German Lutherans.

“I’m here to pick up Eva to go visit her family.”

“We’re almost finished, I believe,” Elisabeth answered, frozen in her spot.

Georg removed his boots without saying another word, walked into the front room, and nodded to everyone around the table.

“Hello, Georg,” Eva said, beaming, but even to such a happy welcome he just nodded and left the room. Elisabeth saw Margarethe-Néni’s flash of anger once Georg turned around, while Eva’s face fell. Elisabeth wondered if this happened all the time. To Elisabeth’s relief, Anna was just tying off her threads.

Elisabeth hung the shawls over the back of a chair and smoothed out her handkerchief on the table: she had two blue birds in each corner, joined by a chain of leaves that travelled along each edge. For an extra blessing, she had embroidered a little star on top of each pair of birds. She had begun the handkerchief earlier in the week, so she finished it today.

“Elisabeth, you truly have a gift from God,” Margarethe-Néni said and thanked her.

“I can do one more at home if you’d like,” Elisabeth offered. It wasn’t as enjoyable as the drawing she loved to do, but it would give her a break from her chores without causing Mammi to complain. Margarethe-Néni happily accepted the offer and handed her another cotton square. Elisabeth and Anna collected their bags and shawls and the others followed them, congregating at the house door, in the kitchen. Georg was sitting at the table, puffing on a cigarette. Judging by his unfocused eyes, he was lost in thought.

“Georg,” Eva said, “your cousins are leaving.”

Georg nodded to both girls but otherwise said nothing.

Elisabeth and Anna wrapped their shawls around their shoulders, and Gretche reached around Anna to the table beside the oven to pass Anna her red mittens.

“No,” Georg said, shaking his head. His cigarette dropped onto the floor and Georg jumped up from his chair, his eyes fixed on the mittens.

“Georg,” Eva said, her voice polite but stern. “I just told your cousins that you’re doing better. Stop this.”

Still staring at the mittens, he wrapped his arms aroundhimself, as though he was trying to stop his body from shaking.

“Don’t shoot!” he yelled.

Realizing the mittens had somehow caused his change, Elisabeth turned Anna around, said a hurried round of goodbyes herself, and rushed out.

“No!” she could hear Georg call from inside. “Leave him!”

The girls walked around to the front of the house,where Elisabeth stopped in her tracks as she saw Margarethe-Néni slap Georg in the face. “Stop embar-rassing our family!” she screamed, her voice carrying through the several panes of windows. She saw Georg collapse in the doorway.

Anna’s eyes and mouth were wide open, and Elisabeth didn’t know what to tell her. “We should go,” she said and tried to push Anna along.

“But he needs help,” Anna replied.

“He has family. They will help him.” She looked up to the sky. Jesus saw this, did He not? He must have. If the two girls had seen Georg, then Jesus must have, too. “Jesus will help Georg, too, when He feels it’s right.”

“Shouldn’t Jesus help him right now? Margarethe-Néni isn’t.”

Elisabeth didn’t have an answer.