Winter Sun Eyes (Translation Project)

Mrs. Schröder's proposal

Marja didn't want anyone to care about her. At first she hadn't even noticed. But then she had noticed time and again that her parents' eyes wandered inconspicuously towards her when she grabbed Kirka's block again to read a little, but no one had said anything.

Only once, when she sat alone again on the bench in front of the library and thought about where Kirka could be now, where she had actually come from, whether she would come back. "You're pale as death!", Mrs. Schröder's shrill voice had startled her from her thoughts. She had stepped out of the house on purpose, and now had demonstratively built herself up in front of Marja.

Marja just shrugged her shoulders. "The sun rarely shines. What do you want me to do? Paint me brown, like that horrible tenth grade chick who thinks she has to be orange all year round?" Marja snorted contemptuously and then turned back to the path in front of her, staring at the blades of grass as if she was listening to her stories spellbound, but that was not possible. People do not understand these stories.

"Yes, terrible, indeed," confirmed Mrs. Schröder Marjas feeling, but quickly returned to her actual (self-imposed) mission. "But that's certainly no reason to be so deadly pale. Do you know how long it's been since you lent a book? No? Well, it'll be a week. Since this... Kirka disappeared, and ever since then you've been reading in her writing pad or just staring apathetically at the neighborhood."

She pronounced Kirka's name as if it was the most disgusting thing in the world to put it in her mouth, but she couldn't help it. Kirka had disappeared without another word, but perhaps there was a reason for this, even if Marja did not want to admit it to herself.

Thoughtfully she stroked a strand of hair from her face and pinched it behind her ear to keep it from disturbing her. "Do you think it's better that way?" she now turned to Mrs. Schröder, hesitantly and with a voice as thin as dental floss. "I mean Kirka's gone. It's not as if I miss her very much - though, I do miss her and her stories. But most of all, I'm afraid. She knew something, something she couldn't tell me, and the next day she was just gone. Do you think that's possible? Is that a coincidence? What if she's been kidnapped? Or -" She wanted to say it, but her tongue simply refused to obey that order. The words stuck in her throat, she couldn't have even sobbed. Mrs. Schröder understood it anyway, and her anger on Kirka vanished.

"Don't you think that!" Shocked, she grabbed the left part of her chest where the heart was.

If her heart ever abandons Mrs. Schröder (and she knew that would happen some time) Marja thought, then I will cry. Cry so hard. And even if I stop doing that, I won't be the same after this. She once said that to her father, to Kristopher, and he looked very speechless for a moment. Then he laughed in disbelief. "The... that was schmaltzy, Marja," he had claimed and still nodded appreciatively, even though Marja was annoyed by this reaction. But that's exactly how it was - Marja was always pondering about these things when she was sad. She would weep for Mrs. Schröder, Luke, her parents of course, and Freddie (probably one more tear, but only one more).

Marja's heart was confused at any rate. Burdens rested on it, beside the difficult work situation of her mother, now also because of Kirka - especially because of Kirka. No one had ever won a place in Marja's heart so quickly and then simply disappeared, just like that. But something she had left here. Her writing pad, Marja knew that, but it keeps telling the same stories and unfortunately not where Kirka had gone and why she had gone.

Mrs. Schröder pondered, looked for the right words to cheer Marja up, but she did not find them. "Perhaps...", she started and also sat down clumsily on the bench, " her parents are jugglers? Wandering minstrels or commuters? Can you tell? Maybe Kirka had to leave this island again and was only allowed to see it for a short time. You shouldn't envy children like that. They live a hard life."