After the Ashes (6 page)

I could do this. I had to.

It rained the next morning. After breakfast I helped Tante Greet finish organizing the pantry. I took notes while she counted. “We're fairly well stocked, Katrien, but look. We do need to buy some rice and sugar. Perhaps we can get that tomorrow.” I dutifully made a note of it. When we were finished in the pantry I had to wind all the clocks and sweep the porches.

After lunch, it was even worse. Tante Greet looked at the clearing sky and took on the appearance of a general. “Come along, Katrien. We still have much to do. Perhaps you'll be glad to know our task will take us outdoors.” She pushed her chair under the table. “Don't forget your hat,” she said pointedly.

I grabbed my straw hat and took my time tying it on my head before trudging after her to the flower garden.

On my way out I thought of Mr. Charles Darwin. “
It is the damp with the heat of the tropics which is so destructive to perennial plants from a temperate climate
.” I would have laughed if I didn't know how much Tante Greet missed tulips. When she arrived in Java five years ago she had tried to grow some, but they didn't even sprout, so she planted roses instead. They didn't care for the climate either. Vader suggested she try native tropical plants, but she refused. “I will have some culture here, Niels,” she had said.

“And culture means roses?” Vader had asked.

When I stepped oustide I found Tante Greet already kneeling in the dirt, yanking weeds.

“Where do you want me to help?” I asked.

She looked at me from under the broad brim of her hat. “Ah, my favorite niece finally joins me.”

I pushed my spectacles up. “I'm your only niece.”

“Thank the stars. I couldn't handle another one. And please lift your spectacles. Don't push them.”

Ignoring her, I said, “
‘The more nearly any two forms are related in blood, the nearer they will generally stand to each other in time and space.'
”

Tante Greet paused. “Are you quoting Darwin again?”

I grinned. “If you don't want my help, I can always go work on my beetle collection.”

She rubbed her back. “Those filthy bugs. Of course you'll help me. That's what Niels and I agreed to.” She pointed to the other flower bed, and I noticed her gloves. Those gloves, caked in years of dirt, kept her hands smooth and soft.

Without some gloves of my own, my hands were unprotected. Not that it mattered. They were already covered in small nicks and scratches from my treks through the jungle.

Tante Greet seemed to know what I was thinking. “There is another pair in the gardening trunk. They should fit you.”

Running around the house to the side porch, I dug through the trunk until I found the gloves. They did fit. My aunt and I both had long slender fingers. I hurried back to the flower beds and saw a disapproving gleam in her eyes.

“Katrien, you need to walk, please, and not run.”

“But I always run in the yard.”

Even though she knelt in the dirt, she straightened her back and seemed to loom over me. “I know, and I am telling you not to do so. Do you understand me?”

I nodded miserably.

A tremendous sigh escaped Tante Greet's lips. “Katrien, what am I going to do with you?”

Even your aunt is tired of your behavior
. Brigitta's words buzzed in my brain. I swatted them away like a fly. “Why do you have to do anything with me?” I asked.

“Because you have to grow up. You have to be a productive member of society.”

“I will be.” I knew my beetle collection would prove valuable one day. It would prove the theory of natural selection. It was my work.

“How?” Tante Greet tilted her head.

I rubbed my eyes and tried to explain myself. “Mr. Charles Darwin says—”

“Darwin,” she huffed, “is part of the problem.”

“What problem?”

“My dear, you don't even have any friends,” she said.

She sounded like Brigitta, and I hated that she was echoing my worst enemy's words. “That is not true!”

She arched her eyebrows.

“Slamet is my friend. And Vader.” I bent down and plucked weeds to avoid her eyes. Did she notice I didn't include her?

“I mean you have no girlfriends, Katrien.”

“You mean like Mrs. Brinckerhoff? No, thank you.”

“Katrien,” she warned.

“I do not like that woman.”

Tante Greet clucked disapprovingly. “Johanna is a kind woman.”

“Kind?” I ripped weeds from the ground with more force, pretending each one was Mrs. Brinckerhoff. “She waltzes into our home like she owns it. Demands I find you. Doesn't say please or thank you. How can you defend her? She's rude.”

“I wish you wouldn't be so quick to judge.” She wiped her brow. “Put yourself in her place. Have some empathy for her.”

“If I put myself in her place, I would realize what a horrible person I was.” I yanked at a long bit of greenery and it came loose from the soil. If only I could remove Mrs. Brinckerhoff from my life with such ease. Or better yet, Brigitta.

Tante Greet's lips pressed together. “I find that hard to believe, as you're being a pretty horrible person yourself right now.”

I gasped. “What do you mean? I'm helping you weed.”

“Katrien”—she crossed her arms—“you arrive at your opinions far too easily. And, I might add, they are usually uninformed. Also, you hardly ever consider changing your mind.”

“That is not true,” I cried.

“What do you think of Rika Spoor?” she challenged. Her voice had turned sharp, like a knife, and I wasted no time responding.

“She's an empty-headed piece of fluff.”

Tante Greet raised an eyebrow. “And when did you form this opinion?”

“Years ago, and she has never done a thing to prove me wrong.”

My aunt's expression changed from frustration to disappointment. “Rika may not be as smart as you are, Katrien, but that does not mean you are better than she is. We all have our strengths and weaknesses. You need to learn yours, so you can improve as a person.”

“What does this have to do with Mrs. Brinckerhoff?”

“This is not about Johanna. This is about you. I need you to be more empathetic. Can you try?”

“Fine,” I grumbled so she would stop talking.

She pulled some more weeds. “And Johanna is my friend, Katrien. You will treat her with all due respect. Believe it or not, she has your best interests at heart, too.”

With a loud huff, I said, “She most certainly does not.”

“
Ja
, she does.” My aunt's voice returned to its usual calm tone, frustrating me further. “She has helped me a great deal with you.”

“What?” I choked and pushed my spectacles up.
Helped? How?

Tante Greet shot me an irritated look. “Lift them, please. Johanna has given me good advice about being a mother—a surrogate mother, in our situation. I'm not sure I would be here right now without her support and friendship.”

“If I acted the way she does, you would rip into me like a leopard cat.” I jerked at a tenacious weed and fell back on my heels.

“Johanna conducts herself as she does in our home because she
knows she is welcome here, Katrien. If you were friendlier with other girls, you would understand that feeling.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Sometimes I thought my aunt spoke in riddles.

Tante Greet turned to me, resting her hands in her lap. “Katrien, all young women need girlfriends. They need someone to chat with, to share their hopes and dreams with, to gossip with, to be silly with.”

I grasped another weed and tore it from the earth. “I chat with Slamet, and I'm not interested in those other things.”

My aunt raised her eyebrow again. “When you have a girlfriend, no matter how much time goes by between visits, the two of you can begin a conversation as if neither of you has left the room. Do you see what a gift that is?”

I shook my head.

She sighed. “Some things can never be explained. They can only be experienced.”

“How does any of this explain Mrs. Brinckerhoff's rudeness?”

My aunt turned back to the weeds. “She is not rude, Katrien. For the hundredth time, she is my friend. She comes a good distance in order to visit, and she is always welcome in our home. We'll leave it at that for now.”

I brushed bits of grass away from my aunt's plantings. The poor roses she put in three years ago suffered in the heat and the salty breezes. They were scrawny and full of thorns, but she kept trying to get them to grow. She wouldn't give up on them. Nor would she give up on me.

Still, even with the weeds gone, the rosebushes looked pathetic. “
Eggs or very young animals seem generally to suffer most, but this is not invariably the case
,” I thought.

A strangled noise made me turn, just in time to catch my aunt scrambling away from the spot where she had been weeding. Her face was as white as our stuccoed house, and her breath came in short, sharp bursts.

“What's the matter?” I asked.

She raised a shaky hand and pointed.

I followed her gaze. “Oh!”

“That thing just flew down and landed right beside me!” She clutched her chest. “It flew!”

“It is a flying gecko.”

“It flew like a bird.”

“No.” I patted her shoulder. “They don't fly; they can only glide.”

“Please get rid of it.” She used her handkerchief to dab her brow.

I scooped the reptile up in my fingers. Holding it gently but securely, I brought it over to Tante Greet. “See?” I showed her the flaps of skin on its side and the webbed feet. “No wings, but these help it glide.”

“I do not care, Katrien. That thing is hideous. It looks like a monster. Take it away.”

The De Groots had a huge tamarind tree in their yard. The gecko would do well there.

It jumped onto the trunk as soon as I placed my hand against the bark. Its grayish green skin was the perfect camouflage. From just two steps away, I could no longer spot it.

“It's gone,” I said, returning to the flower beds.

“Good.
Dank u
.” Tante Greet regained her composure and went back to weeding. I took my cue and rejoined her.

The sun crept across the sky as we worked. Perspiration popped up along my back and tickled as it trickled down my spine. Tiny insects buzzed around my ears. My knees protested. I had aches all over, especially in my arms. I simply had to stretch.

Tante Greet noticed when I stood. “Are you tired?”

“I'm not used to this work,” I said, wiping my forehead.

“This should not be that tiring for you. You prowl through the jungle all the time.”

“
Ja
, but that's just walking! I don't crawl around in the dirt trying to find insects.”

She gave me dubious glance. “Katrien, I've seen your skirts. You would have a difficult time proving to me that you don't go crawling
around in the dirt. And now the entire town knows how filthy they are.” She shook her head.

Another needling reminder of how unladylike I was. “Do you want some water?” I asked. My question came out a bit harsher than I intended, but I wasn't trying to pick a fight.

She didn't seem to notice my tone. “I do, but I think I'll get it for myself. We both need to freshen up before supper.”

I had nearly forgotten we would be dining at the Hotel Anjer that evening. The hotel had the best restaurant in town, and it was the type of place where people dressed for dinner. We didn't normally do that at home, but we certainly did at the Hotel Anjer.

Tante Greet rose and headed for the rain barrels by the kitchen door. “Did you know the
Fiado
has arrived in Batavia, Katrien?” she asked over her shoulder. “The restaurant has beef on the menu tonight.”

My stomach lurched in anticipation. So this was the reason for dining out! Whenever Vader or Tante Greet heard the Hotel Anjer had beef, they made certain we ate there. My mouth watered and my stomach growled as I tried to remember the last time I had beef. It must have been many months, maybe even a year.

Rarely did the local farmers have enough meat for all the people who wished to buy it. Fish was far more common. With the appearance of the
Fiado
—a new type of steamship from Australia that could refrigerate perishable cargo—it was everyone's hope that deliveries of beef and other meats would come more often.

I pushed my spectacles up, grateful that Tante was too busy washing up to notice. How would the beef be prepared tonight? Slow-braised? Stewed? Or even Monk's Mince?

I joined my aunt by the barrels, jumping gleefully over the puddles that surrounded them. The rainfall this morning had caused them to overflow. Then, as I dipped water from one barrel into a small bucket, I thought better of my jumping and proceeded more carefully around the mud. I didn't want more stains on my skirts, or Tante Greet's wrath.

Tante Greet stood beside me, rinsing her hands and arms. “One
more word about tonight, Katrien,” she said. “We'll be dining with the Burkart family.”

My fingers froze just under the surface of the cool water and I staggered, nearly stepping into the very mud I'd been trying to avoid. It hadn't occurred to me that this meal would constitute our monthly dinner with the Burkarts. But of course, given Vader's lecture last night, the timing of this month's gathering made perfect sense. Dining with Thomas Burkart and his family meant only one thing: dining with the wily Brigitta.

And I had promised Vader to be polite. “Canis lupus,” I whispered—the Latin for wolf.

A million fig wasps swarmed in my stomach as Vader, Tante Greet and I approached the Hotel Anjer. I tried to concentrate only on the beef I would have for supper and not the company around me.