Free The Journey Back by Johanna Reiss Page A

with sugar sprin-Ides? She likes those, Leida.”
    “Ha-ha, ha-ha,” Leida laughed.
    I couldn’t take my eyes off her. Everything made her laugh, even when Dientie asked, “How many iars d’ you think this will rmke?” She must have seen me looking at her. “I ‘bet Annie wonders what’s the matter with me.” Leida laughed again. “No teeth. I, had ‘em all pulled, Annie.
    All of a sudden I had such a toothache.” She showed me where.
    “Couldn’t sleep, couldn’t work, it hurt so. I went to the dentist, and I said, “Out with ‘em. I’ve had enough of pain in the mouth.” Now I’m getting some new ones”-she giggled-“in a couple of weeks, for my thirty-fifth birthday. Some dentist in the city, Dientje, who first asked for a hundred guilders and a dozen eggs, but after I sat down in the chair and he had gotten the last ones out, he wanted more. Now I can’t get the new ones from him for less than four dozen, which isn’t very nice of him.” Laughing, she closed another jar. “Ja, ja, Leida.
    The war made a lot of people’ bad,” Dientje agreed. One by one, she lowered the jars into the boiling water. Johan was in the stable, sitting next to the only cow that was in there. “I’ve got to keep a dose eye on her, Annie. She’s had a lot of trouble before when she’s calved.”
    He stroked her sides: “Ja. Better not be in the middle of the night again, you hear? Not like the other time.” He lifted his cap and scratched his head. “Too bad I can’t tell for sure whether it’s going to be a boy or girl calf, Annie. Some farmers tie a golden ring to a piece of string and let it dangle. If it turns one way, it means a boy calf; the other way, a girl. But I for one”-he scratched the cow’s head, too-“don’t believe in such nonsense. I say she’s been awfully jumpy for a day or two, so it’s going to be a girl. And, Annie, listen to this.
    I’m going to give her a special mme. Guess what one.” He laughed mysteriously.
    “I can’t, Johan.”
    “Want me to tell you? It’s go’ rag to be Annie. This way there’ll be an Annie around here all the time. In the meadow, in the stable, “Annie,”
    I’ll yell, and she’ll be right there! What d’you think of that, oh?”
    Calves were cute. They had big ears and such long legs.
    I liked it, I told him. “I thought you would. Ja, ja, leave it to Joban.
    Hey, where are you off to now?” The chicken coop, of course. I didn’t want to miss a thing that was going on.
    It was getting to be evening. The sun was going down red, turning the whole sky that color and a little purple, too, all the way down to the trees.
    Bunches of flies danced around in clusters, landing sometimes, but mostly not. A rooster crowed. I leaned against the gate, close to where Johan had tied up the four cows to be milked. Their backs were covered with pieces of ‘canvas. From time to time they shook their heads and swept their tails around to chase away the flies. For a second it helped. Milk began to splash and hiss into the pails as Johan and Dientje’s hands moved the teats up and down. “Getting fired, Annie?”
    “Just a little, Dientje.” But it was a nice kind of fired, a peaceful kind. From the gate I heard their voices again, hushed. They were talking about tomorrow. “We can’t wait another day with the rye, Johan, or we’ll be the only ones with ours still up.”
    “First thing tomorrow, after the calf. Make a batch of pancake sandwiches, something to drink, blanket for Annie to sit on-”
    “Not too close to the sickle, Johan.”
    “I know, woman, what d’you take me for?”
    “And we’ll bring a straw hat, Johan. We don’t want her to get sunburned.”
    “Maybe we can find her one of those white aprons, like Ma used to wear.”
    I was having such a good time already, just listen Lag Tomorrow, the day after, the one after that, and then-No, I didn’t want to think about that day now. I scratched my arms. There were an awful lot of