ANNA, 1994
Someone had written on the church wall. Graffiti, like in any city of the world at any given time. Pinis spelt with two Is instead of an E and illustrated with a drawing that resembled the despondent head of a sheep more than anything else.
Apart from that, the church building looked just the same as it always had: a low-slung, yellow-brick building with a municipal-grey parking lot in front and a row of beech trees flanking the wall. Anna remembered the smell of fresh paint and raw wood from when she was a little girl, a glimpse of herself dancing hand in hand with her mom over the asphalt on the way to Sunday school. She always wore a dress on Sundays. Red, white, or sky blue. That day it was lilac with a satin ribbon; her sister’s was sun gold with white flowers and an elastic band that emphasized her slender waist.
Now other children were coming to church. Anna had been sitting in the car across the road, watching them arrive. Small children as well as awkward teenagers with howling-red jeans, checkered shirts, dreadlocks, and forlorn looks on their pimply faces. And, of course, the aged.
Anna knew there was no point in looking for her mother, but couldn’t help doing so. Her mother had died of cancer five years before. The lawyer hadn’t mentioned any details, simply notified her in writing that her father would remain living in the family home, and that no inheritance had accrued to date. No mention of a funeral or a wake. Not even the chance to lay a flower on the grave of the unknown before her mother disappeared into the ground.
Anna’s hands left damp handprints on the raw plastic of the steering wheel, but the sweat evaporated quickly in the heat. Despite its pale and colorless sheen behind white clouds, the sun cut straight through the windscreen, making Anna sweat under her washed-out T-shirt, which was cold and damp after her hour-long vigil in the parking lot.
She remembered once sitting behind those church walls, cross-legged on the carpet, drawing with Birgit beside her. It could have been yesterday. That’s how it felt. In Anna’s drawing, the millennial kingdom was drawn in peach, mint green, pink, and blue. Birgit was five years older than her, and very, very clever. In Birgit’s picture, the damned sinners were drawn in the throes of death; intestines oozed out of sliced bellies, the arms and legs had been ripped off, their torsos stripped bare. The people always had surprised looks on their faces, were fully conscious till the last drop of blood seeped from their dismembered bodies.
Anna could see her now.
She was absolutely certain it was her, even though it had been twenty years since she’d seen Birgit. Even in a crowd, Birgit was the first person to catch her eye. Strange how blood ties seemed to have an almost supernatural strength, irrespective of every effort made to sever them.
As if Birgit could sense Anna’s presence, she hesitated, remained standing by her car, turning her head to scan the parking lot. She was alone. Perhaps her husband was ill, or maybe he’d taken his own car to church that day. Anna wouldn’t have recognized him. Or the children. They must be in high school by now, moved on with their lives.
Anna got out of the car and strode across the parking lot on unwilling legs. She saw Birgit stiffen, her car keys clutched in her hand, as soon as caught sight of Anna. She turned her back demonstrably on her sister, opened the car door, and got into the driver’s seat, the roar of the engine coinciding with that moment Anna put her hand on the roof and leaned down to gaze through the reflections on the driver’s window.
“Birgit!”
The car started to roll backwards; Birgit was no longer the young girl who thrived on drama and outbursts of emotion.
“Birgit, I need to talk to you.”
Anna leaned over the hood, trying to catch her sister’s eye through the windshield instead, and finally the car stopped, trapped at an awkward angle between Anna and two parked cars on either side. The sisters stared at each other through the blue-toned pane, tears clouding Anna’s vision. But the very last thing she wanted to do was cry. Tears had never impressed Birgit, in fact, they just made her all the more pig-headed, as Anna recalled so well from sibling fisticuffs; trapped under Birgit, who sat on top of her, nailing her arms to the ground with her knees.
Birgit cast a glance in the rear- and side-view mirrors. People were gathering in the parking lot to make their way home. A family of four edged past them to get into the next car over, giving Birgit a penetrating glare as they drove off. Anna didn’t know them, but was certain they knew exactly what filthy hole she’d crawled out of: she was Birgit’s fallen sister, the shameful scourge of the family. That kind of thing was never forgotten.
“Leave us alone!”
Anna spoke loud enough for Birgit to hear it through the windshield, and for the first time, she met her gaze through the driver’s window. Her eyes were small, and it struck Anna that Birgit had become an uncanny copy of their mother, exactly as Anna remembered her last; if you put the two of them together, you wouldn’t have been able to tell them apart. Anna stood her ground.
“I’ll report you to the police, Birgit,” she said, banging on the window. “You have to leave us alone.”
Birgit rolled down the window slowly.
“I always knew you’d go insane one day,” she said. “I don’t want to talk to you. Whatever your problems may be, I’m sure you can figure them out with the help of your support group.”
Anna’s courage faltered. For some reason, she had expected that Birgit would try justifying herself before resorting to a full frontal attack.
“How’s it going with your friend?” Birgit pressed on. “How is Lea these days? I heard the two of you had a little argument.”
The final whip hurt the most, and Anna recoiled. Took a step back.
“No mother deserves what the church put her through.”
Birgit shrugged. “No mother ought to behave the way she has behaved. You know that just as well as I do. You both got what you deserved.”
Anna regained her balance, straightened up, as if she had been dealt a physical blow.
“You have to leave me alone. All of you,” she said. “Stay away from me and my family. Or I’ll contact the police. I won’t be harassed by any of you anymore.”
Birgit smiled sweetly—a person could believe she was perfectly calm if it weren’t for the clenching and unclenching of her fists on the steering wheel, making the thin, golden bangles on her wrists chiming gently in response.
“Go away, Anna,” she said. “Nobody is afraid of you, believe me. You have always been a pathetic, attention-seeking human being, and that is exactly what the police will see, if you talk to them. No more, no less.”
“Leave us alone!”
Anna felt defeated. And this was exactly how she had felt when they were children when Birgit had laughed at her, simply turned her back in the middle of an argument. But Anna had said what she had come to say, so she spun on her heel and crossed the parking lot once more, her shaking hands buried deep in her jeans pockets. Behind her, she heard her sister rev the engine and drive away. Anna didn’t turn to watch her go. Just kept walking to her car and climbed into the driver’s seat, leaving the door wide open. The cold October wind blew through her drenched T-shirt, cooling her hot cheeks.
There was a time when Anna would have fallen apart after such a meeting. She remembered the feeling of scorched skin, exposed and defenseless bones against the onslaught of the world. The car seat grazed her hands and arms, her clothes cut into her abdomen, but she did not bolt, and she did not panic. She was an adult now. They couldn’t harm her anymore.