.
Aunty Jos put the big pot of rijstebrij (milk rice) on the table. We had big bowls, and Papa dished up the rice with a large ladle, a thick and rich milky mass. We were given a little dab of butter to spread over the top. This melted, creating a thin layer of yellow puddles, which was then covered with dark brown sugar, and the finishing touch was a sprinkling of cinnamon.
I loved this dish, not only for its sweet taste, but it actually satisfied me. I had a veracious appetite, and most days I didn’t feel full when we left the table.
I savoured every mouthful, and when Aunty Jos offered a second helping I gladly took it. On top of the cake we’d already had I was really full that night.
After dinner Willie and Ann helped Aunty Jos clear the table, do the dishes and clean the kitchen.
“I enjoyed sharing your birthday with you today Marijke. I’ll see you all tomorrow at eight o’clock.”
With that Aunty Jos kissed each of us goodbye, went downstairs where she kept her bike, and left.
“Okay everybody, we need to have a family discussion as to how these new arrangements are going to work,” Papa said.
“Aunty Jos and I made up a roster. I’ll put it on the wall in the kitchen so you can check if you’re not sure. But it hasn’t changed much since before, except now that you’re all a little older, you may have to do more than you used to do.” Papa spoke with authority. When Papa used this voice we knew better than to argue with him. He was the head of the household, and he was to be obeyed.
Before we went to the orphanage, whenever Mama was sick and at home, Papa used to wake me up early.
“Marijke, can you get up and help me cut the lunches? Mama is sick this morning, and you are the quickest and best at making sandwiches.”
This compliment worked every time, and as I was a born early riser, I proudly helped Papa cut the lunches. They’d be neatly lined up in their brown paper bags on the kitchen bench by the time everybody else got up.
Papa advised that from now on this would be one of my regular duties. Willie and Ann were to help the younger children get washed and dressed. All this had to be done before we sat down for breakfast. We had all our meals together, including breakfast.
Ann offered to undertake the ironing after school, as she enjoyed this chore, and used to do it when Mama was sick.
John and Arnold were upset that they also had some chores to do, as they considered there were enough girls around to undertake these jobs. But it was their job to get the table set and cleared for breakfast each morning. And of course, they had to make their own beds. Aunty Jos washed up the breakfast dishes once we’d gone to school and Papa had left for work.
“When you come home from school, if you have any homework, you always do that first,” Papa said. “Aunty Jos will ask for help if she needs any to prepare dinner. If she asks you to do something, you will do it. Do not complain to her, as she is doing her best to do as much as she can. It isn’t easy for her to come and help look after this big family, and we must show our appreciation. If I hear that anyone has been disobedient or I hear any complaints, I’ll make sure you get punished.”
We all knew Papa’s punishments, which usually consisted of having to go to bed without dinner, or a good spanking on the back side. Papa never used any implements (although he often threatened to,) but believe me, Papa’s right hand was a weapon in itself. When he was angry the marks on your bum reflected the level of his anger.
“If you go visit your friends or go outside to play, tell Aunty Jos where you are, and always be home by half past five.”
There was another roster drawn up for evening chores, taking turns at setting the table; clearing the table; washing the dishes; wiping them, and another to put them away.
Willie and Ann were to take turns from not having to do these chores to help the little ones get ready for bed, making sure they cleaned their teeth and washed themselves properly.
After Papa finished talking, Ann offered to get Lidy and Ineke ready for bed. As Mama used to do in the cold weather, pyjamas and nighties were laid over the heater in the lounge-room to warm up. Ann, who had already put their nighties over the heater, picked them up and took Lidy and Ineke upstairs.
After they were settled in bed Papa told us, “We’ve also worked out bedtimes for everybody. It’s basically the same as before, except Trudy and Marijke who’ve had a birthday since then. You can both go to bed half an hour later.”
“You mean I can stay up until half past eight now, Papa?”
“Yes, Ineke and Lidy at seven o’clock, Margaret at half past seven, Trudy and Arnold at eight o’clock, and you at half past eight. John at nine o’clock, Ann at half past nine and Willie at ten o’clock.”
“What would you like to do now, seeing it’s still your birthday?”
“Papa, I think you forgot about Black Piet. Shouldn’t Ineke and Lidy have put their shoes under the mantelpiece?” I asked.
“Goodness me, I forgot. Ann, go and see if they are asleep yet.”
Within seconds Lidy and Ineke came rushing down stairs, excited looks on their faces. They had no idea about dates yet, so this was an unexpected surprise for them. They put their shoes near the heater, turned around with big smiles on their faces, and sang a spontaneous Saint Nicholas song. We all joined in and laughed at their delight.
“Now to bed quickly, or Black Piet may not come,” Papa said.
“But Papa,” Margaret said, “I don’t think Black Piet knows where we live. How will he find us?”
“Don’t you worry, Saint Nicholas knows where all children live, and he will have told Black Piet we are here.”
“Can we play a game of cards please?” I asked after they were settled back in bed. “I would like to play Casino.” Our family was big on board and card games.
It was soon half past eight, and time for bed. Tomorrow would be Sunday, which meant a routine of getting up at eight o’clock, going to Sunday Mass at nine, and then coming back for a Sunday breakfast.
I changed and washed, got dolly off the chair and looked at Margaret and Trudy already asleep. I remembered I’d promised Papa I would try not to wet the bed, so I ran downstairs and made sure I went to the toilet again. “I’m eleven now, and I am NOT going to wet the bed anymore!” I promised myself.
The double bed wasn’t very big, but we were used to sharing, and besides on cold nights we kept each other warm. There was no heating upstairs, so body heat was appreciated.
I tried to get between my two sisters, but there really wasn’t enough room. Each one of them was facing their side of the bed, with their backs touching. I tried to push my legs between them and push them apart, but with no luck. Then a brainwave hit me; I gently pinched each of them on their bums. Although they didn’t wake up they moved simultaneously, giving me time to quickly squeeze between them. The heat of their bodies had already warmed the middle of the bed. What a great benefit to be the oldest in the bed. I snuggled down with dolly and lay with my eyes wide open reliving the day. Did I only leave the orphanage that afternoon? So much had happened.
I still felt lonely, but it was lovely to feel surrounded by my two sisters. It was somewhat comforting to not be in a bed on my own.
But I didn’t feel like I was home. The orphanage had felt more like a home to me than this apartment. If Mama was here I’m sure it would feel different.
I turned onto my right side, clutching my dolly between me and Trudy. I said my own personal little prayer, or rather, I talked to Mama. When we’d said prayers with Papa after dinner he’d prayed especially for Jesus to give peace and rest to Mama in heaven. I now closed my eyes, trying very hard to imagine Mama resting in heaven; one of God’s angels.
“Mama, please help me not to wet the bed. Mama I miss you so much.”