A Tale from the Past

Written by Jane Barnaby for Jane Azarok Barnaby's backstory

Tilburg, the Netherlands, 1904 Rain pelted down on Anna as she hurried through the city streets. Her drenched dress clung to her back, and the few strands of brown hair that’d gotten free from her bun stuck to her dirty face. In her cold arms, she clutched a day-old, burnt bread. It was all that her day’s wages from the textile factories could afford.

The mud beneath her bare feet squelched with every step. She didn’t dare let her mind wander about how much waste was mixed into it. Her teeth clattered against each other as she turned the corner and into her street.

Two long rows of houses lined the muddy path that counted as a road. They were simple things; over fifty homes lined each side, with only a single door, window, and chimney to tell them apart. They had two storeys, the second one beneath the sloped roof.

Anna instinctively knew which of the identical homes was that of her family. She opened the door, wincing as it screeched in protest. Her youngest siblings immediately ran over to her, a grin on their grimy and sunken faces.

“Anna! You’re home!” Jan, her youngest brother, yelled as he flung himself into her arms. Not even a second later, Grietje was there too, clinging to her other leg. The two young children giggled as they held onto her.

She smiled and patted his back, holding the bread out of the way. “I am! I brought food, too.” Her gaze flickered over to Willem. At fifteen, the boy was only a year and a half younger than her, and her oldest brother. “How’s Geertje?”

His brown eyes that looked so much like hers were filled with concern as he murmured, “She isn’t doing well. Her cough has been getting worse.”

Another throaty, rasping cough made them both look to the corner of the one-room home. Their father lay on the bed, his skin gaunt and eyes feverish. When he coughed again, it sounded more like a bark than anything else.

Anna’s eyes filled with unshed tears as she gently pushed Jan towards Willem and walked to her father’s side. Rainwater dripped from her clothes and onto the dirty floor as she took his cold hand in hers. She leaned in close and said, “It’s okay, Papa. I’m here again. I brought some bread.”

Her father’s cracked lips curved upwards slightly in a smile. His forehead was beaded with perspiration. “Anna,” he said, his voice barely louder than a whisper. He reached out with his other hand, holding her chin and rubbing her cheek with his thumb. “You’re so brave.”

“You need to get better, Papa,” she told him, frowning. She broke off a small piece of bread and helped him sit up, but he refused to eat it.

“Give it to your siblings, and save some for Mama. They need it-” He angled his head away and let out a series of heaving coughs that rattled his entire body. “They need it more.”

Willem handed Anna a cup of water from behind her, and she held it to her father’s lips to force him to stop talking. His gulps were slow and painful, and his cheeks were even more sunken than hers. After emptying half the cup, he leaned back, letting out a quiet groan.

With a small shake of her head, she handed him the piece of bread and moved over to the wall with Willem. When she looked at him, she saw her mirror image, except younger. The same brown hair, sickly skin, and grimy clothing. The same weary look after a long day in the textile factories.

Keeping her voice soft so their other siblings wouldn’t hear, she murmured, “We need more money, and quick. We can’t keep living off of our wages without Papa to help.”

“We’ve already pulled Pieter and Dirk out of school to work,” he responded, matching her quiet voice. “There isn’t much more we can do.”

“What about the ships? They were looking for sailors, weren’t they? I saw the signs advertising it. More pay, little chance of being fired, food and shelter while I’m at sea…”

Willem grabbed her shoulders and shook his head. “You can’t do that, Anna. You’ll be gone for weeks, maybe months. We need you here. I need you here.”

The pain in his voice made her heart twist, but she bit her cheek and forced herself to sound more sure than she was. “You still have Mama and Papa. Geertje will probably recover. Then you only have Pieter, Dirk, Jan, and Grietje to take care of. You can do that, can’t you? Just think of how much money we’ll have once I come back and get paid. We won’t have to starve anymore, Wil.”

“I don’t know…”

“Think about it. We could finally get the roof fixed and prevent this.” She gestured at the buckets all around the room, slowly filling up with rainwater as the storm continued outside. “We could get warm clothes, buy firewood and medicine. Put the twins and Grietje back in school.”

Her brother let out a sigh and pulled her into a hug. His warm breath tickled her ear. “Just be sure to come back safe, okay? I need you.”

“I promise I’ll come back okay, Wil. You have my word.” Anna pulled out of the hug and forced a smile onto her face. She ripped the bread in two and handed one half to Willem. “Now let’s feed those little mormels.”