What's the Matter with Maria?: Becoming Maria, #1

Copyright

This is a work of fiction.

Names, characters, places and incidents either are a product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.

All rights reserved. This book and the illustrations in it

may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever

without the express written permission of the publisher

except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

ISBN 978-87-971033-1-9

Published by Pot of gold Publications

Copyright © Mona Kristensen 2019

Prologue

Awarm welcome fellow Wonderer, to a sentimental tale about a sensitive and spirited girl full of zest for life, living on a vaguely defined island and, likewise, era. In all likelihood, it is long before any internet, social media, cell phones and ever-changing technological gadgets stole away the better part of everyone's attention and ability to be present: back when life seemed simpler, bordering primitive by modern standards. Yet what matters at heart was, naturally, the same. 

In the way our lives are inclined to unfold, the varying threads of this girl's life slowly interweave to reveal an exquisite fabric in the end. A cloth of mystery, woven with such diverse strands as utter ordinariness, familial and friendship troubles, a few darkened heartstrings lightened by unexpected filaments of magic and lastly the golden thread of grace.

No matter your current age, it is my heartfelt wish that this humble story will leave your Wonder child feeling a little less alone. May it replenish that perhaps thirsting or even depleted part of you like a glass of lemonade does a parched throat during a dry spell. This lemonade is made by a carefully created and well-tested recipe. At first sip, it may appear to lean towards the sugary side but taste again and allow it to reveal a deeper, more complex quality; to be balanced out with the sour and spicy notes which life provides us so generously to boot. If, in spite of its soft flavor you find yourself being too emotionally stirred, please don't hesitate to seek out appropriate support.

I promise it is brewed with genuine love from nothing but organically grown ingredients and hope the drops offered here will quench a spot of your inner child's thirst for soul-nourishing nectar.

Cheers & blessings,

the author

Chapter 1

Grandmother's garden

In a state of blissful reverie, Maria lies on her belly in the lush, green grass.

Her chin rests in her hands and the bare feet sway carefree as she creates various tones with her mouth. Merrily, the little girl wiggles her toes to the rhythm of a tune composed of nonsensical words, all the while watching a millipede twist its long brown body right under her nose. Its tiny, countless legs roll along at a brisk pace. It’s a strange creature, mysteriously resembling Maria’s backbone which she noticed in the bathroom-mirror last time mom toweled her dry after bathing.

Maria feels safely wrapped in a warm and tender embrace here in the garden. An abundant and colorful realm surrounds her; exuding pleasant scents and emanating vibrant life. The air is full of buzzing and rustling sounds this lovely summer’s day.

She is harmoniously at one with All.

Maria's grandparents are taking care of her, like they often do. With few interruptions, she plays every day in their well-tended village garden: a garden full of meticulously pruned trees, rhododendron and lilac bushes as well as flowerbeds with a multitude of flowers in every color.

On one gable of their house, the masonry is covered by climbing ivy, and everywhere one looks, some form of cultivated lushness meets the eye.

Maria's grandparents' live in a small town and there's a country road right next to their garden, but a hawthorn hedge shields from prying eyes. In spring the hedge blooms in soft bouquets of white flowers. Though don't be mistaken: it's terribly prickly!

One time, Maria discovered a birds' nest inside the hedge with the most adorable little eggs with dots all over, like someone had painted on them just as she and her cousins did on chicken eggs last Easter. In awe, she wanted to reach in and grab one but fast got pricked by the pointy thorns - ouch! A droplet of deep-red blood emerged from the fleshy tip of her thumb. At first, it startled her, but then she licked up the droplet and found it tasting a bit like when she bites her fork at dinner. How strange!

Maria's thumb was sore for days. Finally, by using tweezers, mom pulled out a needle-thin, close to invisible thorn from under the skin. It hurt, and now she knows to avoid getting too close to that deceitful thorn hedge!

Maria knows a few flower-names: there are violet Carnations, purple Clematis and pink Fuchsia. Some very odd names! And there are roses, of course, which are so graceful and with a delightful scent. Oh, and Marigolds, too! They share her name, almost, and shine in the garden with their bright orange fluffy heads.

Each flower has its own unique fragrance and form. 

Here are numerous wonders to explore. Eagerly, and with eyes wide-open, Maria takes it all in; this ravishing abundance of nuances, scents and sounds fill her senses to the brim.

Flocks of birds are chirping all around. Like the blue and yellow budgerigars and small red and green parrots which grandpa keeps in a large cage in the corner of their garden, the adults call it an aviary. At home, Maria's mom has a similar, smaller cage with a pair of yellow canaries. She loves birds and likes to study the wild ones visiting their garden through binoculars from the kitchen window. In wintertime, she feeds blackbirds, finches, tits and other wild birds on a bird table outside. 

In here are wild birds, too: a brown sparrow flutters its feathers, enjoying a refreshing bath in grandma's stone cut bird-bath, some larks soar towards the sky, while other, unknown and shyer ones, hide inside the foliage of old oak and maple trees at the back end of grandmother's garden. It's an outright symphony how every bird sings its praise today.

Insects buzz in the air. Suddenly a ladybird lands on Maria's left hand! Startled, she jumps and splutters with a surprised giggle.

She stares curiously at the little glistening red body with the funny black dots. Its tiny legs tickle as it wanders trustingly on her sun-kissed skin. Smiling, she tries to make it fly by blowing softly at it.

After a while, she succeeds. It flutters its wings a few times, takes off and flies away in a dignified manner.

Soon after, a thick yellow and black striped bumble bee buzzes near her head. Oh, no! Frightened Maria ducks her neck, maybe she’ll get stung now, mom has warned her that bees are dangerous! The bee is, thank goodness, friendly and soon buzzes further away on its hunt for nectar. From time to time, a beautiful orange-red peacock butterfly with spots resembling big blue eyes flutters past her and so do a lot of smaller white and lemon-colored ones on their delicate wings.

The sun shines warmly on Maria's face. She closes her eyes and leans back her head in pure delight. Intrigued, she explores how the strands of her eyelashes change into sparkling, rainbow-colored rays against the blue sky. She lingers on the magical transformation for a long time, studying each stunning color in awe.

Present with every fiber of her being, Maria suddenly notices how plants and flowers radiate a subtle shimmering light. It is breathtaking! She must remain ever so still and attentive to see it, or else the magical sight readily escapes. Maria loves all these pretty flowers and the vibrant, natural world around her, teeming with life. Everything in here tickles, tastes and smells or beams and buzzes, just like inside her sentient body from curly head to pinky toe: all to please her, for sure! 

Life is utterly fascinating. Wondrous!! 

Now and then, grandma circulates past her granddaughter. The little limber lady flutters about in the garden like a butterfly. She is not sipping nectar though but dead-heading withered flowers, weeding and sprinkling water wherever it's needed. Grandma never takes time to rest for long. She's always too busy to be idle or just relax and enjoy life for a moment. There's constantly work to tend to in the garden or house. Among many household tasks, she is cooking and caring for grandpa and the three assisting workers in his carpentry workshop, adjacent to their house.

Don't you want to help me pick up vegetables for supper, Maria? grandma asks a little later. Grandma has a kitchen garden full of nutritious vegetables. It’s only a short distance from their house. Yes I do, Maria gets up straight away, secretly a little displeased about being interrupted in her drowsy play with sunrays but naturally, wanting to help her sweet grandma.

At her grandparents, it is always peaceful. Nobody ever raises their voice around here. Meals are ready at the proper time: meals comprising hearty, homemade food, which grandma cooks and stews in her busy kitchen. Everything and everyone runs like clockwork, and so does the large long-case clock made of dark brown wood in their living room. Except for its constant ticking, it is quiet in there. Such a steady sound it makes, like the beat of a heart that can never be frightened by anything. Nothing like Maria's faint one, which, by the slightest disruption, flutters like a startled bird trapped in a cage.

Maria feels safe in her grandparent's rock-solid brick house with the fenced, well-tended garden. Maybe she loves the garden the best though. Running outside among grandma's flower beds Maria has a better outlet for all that bubbling life inside her. This overflow of life-force which at times has to come out or else she might burst!

It’s probably not easy for aging people to remember how much energy a tiny body, like Maria's contains. All that unruly energy inside causes her a hard time sitting still for long.

She does her best to control herself, sensing that her grandparents much prefer a calm, composed behavior: no playing too wildly, exhibiting too strong emotions or making too loud noises. And it is nice to sit and draw, crochet or knit with her gentle grandmother, it's just a bit hard for Maria to muster up the patience to do so for hours. She'll rather browse through old comics way back from her mom's childhood, instead. Comfortably wrapped in an old, soft padded beige armchair she'll then sit while grandma knits innumerable socks for the entire family. 

Maria holds on to her grandma's soft, wrinkly hand, as they walk toward the kitchen garden.

Grandma's hands are wrinkled, like dried prunes because they're soaked in water so often. It’s all that dish-washing, cleaning house and cooking. She’s always busy with something; only rests for a moment when napping after lunch, before moving on with her many domestic chores.

The asphalt is burning hot from the sun. Maria can feel the heat seep up through her pink sandals as they trudge off to the vegetable garden.

When will mom and dad come to pick me up? she asks but regrets it immediately because what if grandma thinks Maria wants to go home already and it hurts her feelings? I mean...maybe they told you before they left? grandma smiles her quiet smile and reveals that Maria's parents will come and pick her up Sunday. This means she will be sleeping three more nights here, grandma softly explains.

That’s a long time before seeing her mommy again. Maria says nothing though, just feels her heart sink like a stone inside her chest. She wants to be a good girl and so, forcefully swallows the stubborn lump growing in her throat.

When they arrive at the kitchen garden, Maria fast forgets she was sad, by the sight of the delicious vegetables: lettuce, cabbages, onions, peas, carrots, and potatoes, to name a few. Maria even helped her grandmother sow some of these veggies in spring.

It is outright magical how tiny seeds can grow into such big, beautiful vegetables!

Here are also lots of berries: raspberries, currants, gooseberries, not to mention, sweet tasting strawberries! Those are Maria's favorites, and she’s allowed a taste: grandma cleans a few in her apron before handing them to her.

Later, they’ll have some for dessert with cream and sugar. Yummy!

Grandma digs up potatoes and carrots with skillful hands. When it comes to gardening, she no doubt has a green thumb, whether growing perennials in the garden, house plants on windowsills or a vast variety of vegetables and fruits like here.

Born as the first child in a large family, grandma fast became a responsible big sister, caring for the whole bunch. To help out, she had to go work at a farmhouse. She became a maid and servant there at only twelve years old. A tiny, skinny girl, she was, even an ailing one, suffering from asthma attacks. It was tough and burdensome to be a maid among strangers, at such an early age. Poor girl! That's how hard life was back then, Maria's mom said with a serious face by the end of telling her mother’s story.

Grandma still has frail lungs and occasionally falls ill with pneumonia but nothing can be done about it, the doctor stated. Meek as always, she quietly accepted her chronic condition. It is what it is, she habitually pushed the matter aside. Her wondering voice went silent decades ago.

Maria notices how her grandmother’s face and voice tend to get sad when the talk on rare occasions touch upon her childhood. She feels bad for her grandma who had to go through such trying times. Usually, grandma soon moves on to other topics, but even if she doesn't speak about these things, Maria can sense it. At times, a dense, muddy-gray sadness sort of trickles into Maria's own body. She feels, as vividly as was it herself, how hard it was to be no more than a small girl with heavy responsibilities to carry. 

Still, wasn't it fun to cuddle and play with all the cute animals on the farm? Puppy dogs, kittens and little pig, cow and sheep pups! Maria once asked, to uplift her grandma's mood. Well, we didn't have time for play or any such childish behavior at the farm. We had to obey the farmer and work most of the time. And it's called a piglet, calf and lamb, by the way. Not a pig, cow and sheep pup, grandma corrected. Well, she is not half as fond of animals, as Maria is, then! Anyhow, grandma was smiling a soft smile, thereby, fulfilling Maria's wish.

Her method proved to have worked.

Last year, a trending wave of paintings swept the island. These popular paintings depicted bawling toddlers with teary faces. Inconsolable, with wailing open mouths and big sad eyes, letting teardrops stream down their ruddy cheeks. Especially elderly folks bought them in heaps. They were adorning the walls in many a senior citizen home.

Under no circumstances would grandma allow such overly sentimental art into her house; popular or not. She couldn't bear looking at those bawling toddlers, Maria heard her grandma declare in an unfamiliar firm and emotional tone of voice, and she hardly ever mentions how she feels about anything. Not one single sobbing child got the chance to stare miserably into space from the walls of her grandparents' house. A portrait of a lady in a long yellow dress, some still life and landscape paintings, old black-and-white photos capturing family members in contrived positions as well as some new ones in color, kept the walls all to themselves.

Maria's grandparents endured the Great War and therefore know a thing or two about poverty and lack. By now, grandma has years of experience and is a real master at keeping house with sparse resources. Early on, she had to learn the noble ability to get a lot out of a little. Everything in moderation, she is known for reciting. 

Like the rest of the family, Maria relies completely on her humble and efficient grandma.

Maria's young mother doesn't care that much for cooking and housekeeping, knitting or doing needlework. She is of the modern generation, she claims, preferring to be creative in other ways. Mom tries to keep up with the latest trends and recently got her long, bleached hair cut into a short hairdo like the one's pretty models have in fashion magazines. She likes to design and sew and so far has designed dresses of matching fabric and pattern for herself and her little daughter. Her current project is a rag-doll for Maria, wearing a matching dress, too.

Once, Maria's mom tried to get her mother on board, teaching her how to use tie-dye and textile-stamps to create her own imprints on pieces of cloth, and afterward use her individualized fabric to make lovely tablecloths, skirts and whatnot. Without much enthusiasm, grandma gave it a chance, though not long before returning to the practices and handiworks learned in childhood. 

When they get back, grandpa comes in from the carpenter workshop. With him, a sweet smell of wood, resin and glue enters the house.

I'm famished! What's on the menu this evening? he asks as usual in his jovial manner. Grandpa is a modest, soft-spoken man who goes about his business without much ado. He is friendly but somewhat foreign to Maria, who spends most of her time with grandma when visiting. Grandma and grandpa reign over each of their separate domain. Grandpa doesn't have much spare time, but when he has, enjoys letting out his creative side by crafting beautiful and sometimes quirky objects in his workshop. His latest invention is a hexagonal dovecote which he, for some reason, has placed in a shadowy corner of their garden. The woodwork is carved into artful curlicues.

Roast with potatoes and gravy, grandma answers her hungry husband, but you'll have to wait until dinnertime, she adds in a pretend stern tone. She continues to work with the pots. Maria stands beside her on a wooden footstool and helps her peel the potatoes. Grandma patiently shows her how to do it and nods now and then, approving her efforts. 

Suddenly, a neighbor is at the door, asking if he can borrow their lawnmower? He broke his own, he explains, scratching his head. Of course, he can; grandpa gets up right away to go fetch it. The neighbor remains in the doorway, waiting with arms folded across his chest. He observes Maria with curiosity, and soon a grin shows up on his face. Sure is nice to see a little girl working so diligent and making herself useful. If only every child was like that! he praises, looking at her tiny fingers trying to imitate her grandma's fast-paced ones. 

Yes, Maria is such a good girl, grandma agrees, stroking Maria's hair with a rare big smile.

Maria's cheeks get burning hot from the sudden attention and praise. Her feet want to run away and hide but remain glued to the spot. Her eyes fixate on the potato in her hand and a sense of pride wells up inside. Maria makes an extra effort to live up to their words. 

Grandpa comes back with the mower. The neighbor thanks them, and they chat for a short while, and then he walks off again, cheerfully whistling and pushing the machine in front of him.

Days go by steadily, without a hitch in this place. Her grandparents have each their specific role and routines. Every day is filled with recurring tasks. For the most part, they're talking about practical matters and whatever is happening in the family or neighborhood. Often, Maria can guess what will be said before it's spoken aloud. The repetitions and small talk feel safe and suit her well: it's reassuring to know beforehand what to expect. 

For leisure, in summer or on weekends, the extended family sometimes goes on planned road trips with a well-packed picnic basket to go see a lovely sight or local event. On rare occasions, they visit tourist attractions on the mainland. 

Later that night before going to bed, grandma puts her denture in a glass of water on the bedside table. It looks uncanny and to witness her grandmother without teeth is unsettling, too. Grandma has explained to Maria how all of her teeth rotted from eating too many sweets and white bread with sugar on top when she was a girl. She had to have them pulled out by the age of sixteen.

They didn't even know how to take care of their teeth in those days. It must have hurt so bad to have them all removed, like that. Every single one had to go!

Maria shudders at the mere thought and lying in bed feels a sudden pang of homesickness. She has to cry into her pillowcase for a moment. 

When grandma peeks in to say goodnight, Maria quickly composes herself.

Home life

MARIA TAKES ANOTHER eager brush stroke. She's sitting in the courtyard, carefully brushing their dog Leo on this balmy day in February. It's been a mild winter and today there's a sense of spring in the air. She enjoys the fresh air outside, even if it hurts to sit on her knees like this. It's her task at home to do this, and she's focused on doing a good job. 

Maria will never forget that day a few years back when dad brought Leo home. Such a wonderful surprise it was! When the adorable golden pup tumbled out of a cardboard box, they instantly became friends: Leo is her best friend in the whole world! They’ve been growing up together, playing inside the house, or romping about in the garden.

Leo grew faster though, by now he is as big as Maria! 

In the beginning, he would sometimes go to the toilet inside, then mom scolded him: Bad dog - shame on you! she would grab him by the neck and close to rub his nose in the mess he had made; pulling the poor puppy, creeping with ears down and tail between shaky legs, outside in a hurry. Maria stood still on the spot, watching the scene with big eyes, feeling real sorry for Leo in his predicament. He has got to learn it! mom explained afterward.

Luckily, Leo was a fast learner.

Now, he mostly stays in their courtyard or garden, preferring to be outside. Come rain or shine or even snow, he carries out the vital task of being a guard dog, or in his case, happily sniffing about for hours.

Leo spends most of his time digging for buried bones and other yumminess among bushes and flowers. They can't help but laugh when he emerges in the doorway with dirty paws and a nose full of mud, staring confused at them with his innocent puppy eyes.

Mom still occasionally scolds him, but she doesn't really mean it, Maria's sure.

Mom just thinks it is the only way. They all adore him.

Leo is so soft and snuggly to touch. Maria lets him stay in the foot of her bed whenever possible; lets him snore for a while amongst her pillows and cuddly toys. He is excellent company and so cozy to be around. Mom won't have it though. She claims he's messing up the bedding, so it has to be on the quiet.

People call this kind of dog a Labrador retriever, dad says.

Maria says the strange name out loud.

He has slender limbs and golden fur like a real lion! He smells a bit bad from his mouth: a mouth full of pointy, yellowish teeth that look dangerous. Still, Maria is not the least bit afraid of their kind-hearted dog. She looks deep into his brown eyes with the drooping eyelids and strokes him lovingly over the head while speaking softly to him. He enjoys it, wags his tail and licks her hand. 

Yuck! Maria wrinkles her stumpy nose in mild disgust, wiping her hand off on her pants.

At heart, Maria loves all animals. Well, Almost all animals, anyway. Maybe not fat spiders with their clammy, crawling legs, or scary snakes that sometimes bite people with their poisonous fangs. Like those creepy vipers with a zigzag stripe looking like a lightning bolt all the way down their long, scaly bodies. Ugh! They inhabit a heather-covered slope along the fjord close to Maria's house. The fjord is a broad belt of water surrounding Matter Island, the island where Maria and her parents live: it's like an inner sea in the mainland. If you follow the fjord to its outlet, you eventually end up by the mighty ocean.

It’s a shame that vipers live in the heather since Maria loves the beautiful purple flowers and would like to pick pretty bouquets from it, but that is strictly forbidden her parents say. The few reckless people, who dare to venture there are extremely cautious where they put their feet. Mom has warned Maria that children can die from a viper bite. Die for real!

In their house, there's also a sweet gray-striped cat named Mew and a ruffled rabbit named Bonnie. Maria was only permitted to have Bonnie if she promised to take care of the furry animal all by herself: feed it, clean its cage and pick dandelion leaves for it in summer. This promise Maria solemnly made and keeps of course! Well, for the most part, anyway. It's winter now, and these days Bonnie eats potato peelings, carrots and cabbage leaves.

Maria! mom calls out, dinner time! Maria happily jumps and skips toward the kitchen. Full of life and irrepressible vitality like she is, she’s always hungry and enjoys most foods.

They're having flounders with parsley gravy and potatoes for dinner tonight. At their house, they often eat fish because Maria's dad works at a fish factory owned by a well-off man named Mr. Price. Although these flounders he has caught himself in the fjord today, these fish are new, super fresh and tasty. Some dish with meat and potatoes is on the menu every day, but it just so happens, that Maria likes potatoes too. 

Mom and dad chat about this and that at the dinner table. Mom makes sure dad gets the most meat. Apparently, because he is the head of the house, the biggest one of them and in need of lots of energy to go to work and earn money. The latter is awfully important, Maria understands. 

Mommy, can't we please go for a drive somewhere this Sunday?! Maria pleads eagerly. They like to go for car rides, mostly on Sundays. To just jump in the car and drive off into the blue as dad calls it. It is daddy who decides when to go, he is the one who makes most decisions. He enjoys the sense of freedom it gives to leave the house on a whim, with no specific place to go. 

Their car is a bright red one of a boxy sort. It is always Maria's dad who is behind the wheel since her mom doesn't have a driver's license. She's way too anxious to take on driving, she explains, sounding apologetic. Instead, mom lets dad drive her around.

Her parents are normally laughing and in high spirits during these road trips and then so is Maria. She basks in the cozy atmosphere and with her whole being  soaks up as much as possible of the goodness. With eyes wide-open, she enjoys the different landscapes and small towns rushing past the car window. Some of the scenery on this island is quite idyllic.

Sometimes, they drive to places picked out in advance. Like last summer when they got on the ferry to go