Dinah

Mama

After two hours of pacing, Constantijn heard the soft footsteps of his mother above his head, followed by a series of tappings and padding around as she readied for the next 12-hour shift at the war plant not far from here. Then she came down the stairs, stepping erratically as she avoided the creaky spots, and she called softly, "Mama?"
Oma stirred from the couch and stood up, hardly paying Constantijn a glance as she strode to the stairwell, "Johanna, shush. Rolf is sick."
"What?" Mama strode into the room. Her face with its naturally white palor seemed stretched back into the tight bun she'd done up. "Why didn't you wake me up?"
"You need to sleep properly," Oma said matter-of-factly. "Now, you head along to work now. Isold and Constantijn and I will take care of Rolf."
Mama ignored her, "What is it?" She asked, touching her hand to her son's face.
"Probably just the flu," Oma said gently. She only spoke gently with Mama and Papa. Otherwise it was an even, scrutinous tone, no matter what kind of emotion she was trying to impart, "Don't you worry one bit, Johanna. You'd better run along or that bastard of a shift supervisor will fire you."
"You shouldn't talk like that, Mama," Mama sighed and stood up, "But you're right. Call the doctor if you need, do you understand?" She looked from Oma to Constantijn, "And come and get me if he gets worse."
"Ja, Mama, I will," Constantijn promised. Oma nodded.
"Alright, good-bye," Mama gave Constantijn a soft kiss and left.
As soon as the door closed behind her back, Oma said, her voice once again sour, "We are not calling her home under any circumstances, do you understand?"
Constantijn agreed, "But what do we do, anyways? Is it really just the flu?"
"That's what I'm hoping," Oma sighed, "But in any case, it appears all we can do is wait. You sleep awhile, and Isold can watch him, too, when she wakes up."
"Alright," Constantijn said, and flopped back to the couch. Considering a moment, he dared to rest his head on Rolf's shoulder, shirt soaked with sweat.

He was awoken by a delighted shrieking, and he startled awake, his foot kicking out at some unseen threat. His momentum yanked him off of the couch and his rear hit the worn carpet hard.
He scrambled up, rubbing his sore spot, and then his attention flew to Rolf as the teen burst awake in a cry of agony.
"Rolf! Rolf!" He grabbed his brother's arms as they lashed out, "Stop!"
"Dammit, Con'!" Rolf eked through gritted teeth. One leg found the arm of the couch and braced itself tightly against it, his head pressed back against Constantijn's chest. "Don't..." His voice quieted to a whine, "Don't do that."
"I'm sorry. Breathe, okay?" Rolf was breathing, great, heaving breaths.
Isold appeared suddenly, holding the rag, "Rolf, relax. You're tense," She redraped the rag over his forehead, although Constantijn wasn't sure if it was a solution or the desperate illusion of one. "Even breaths, okay?"
Rolf shook his head, "Isold, I can't. I don't wanna," But the tension drained from his shoulders and he slowly sank back down.
Isold looked up sharply, a great lock of pale blonde hair sliding from its braid, "What're Pieter and Augusta yelling about, then?" She bit angrily.
Then Pieter came toddling into the room, grin wide, "Mama's home," It didn't matter that Holde was his mama, not Johanna. Holde was referred to as "Mam,", because otherwise that would just be confusing.
"What's Mama doing home?" Isold stood sharply, and the thoughts running through her mind were undoubtedly the same as Constantijn's. She's been fired.
Johanna came into the room, her features concerned, "Is he any better?" She asked, taking in Rolf in his pained, delirious state, "Oh..."
"Mama!" Isold grabbed her arm, "What are you doing home early?"
Mama stared at her, and then a soft smile spread across her face, "I've been given a position that pays much better than what I have. I've got the day off so they can arrange things,"
Isold's hand flew to her mouth. After a moment she pulled it away and gasped, "Oh, Mama!"
Mama didn't seem quite as exuberant as Isold and the younger children, who all managed to quiet their excitement for Rolf's sake, "Isold... oh, it's all a mess," She sighed.
Isold looked at her, expression faltering, "Look, I'll make you some tea. And you tell me all about it, alright?"
Mama nodded, and Isold pulled her into the kitchen, gently instructing the younger kids to run off and play.
Constantijn sighed deeply.
"What's going on?" He heard a soft murmur beneath him and looked down at Rolf.
"I don't even know," Constantijn said.
"Mm."
Constantijn strained to hear the voices in the kitchen, but it seemed Isold and Mama were trying specifically not to be heard. And he couldn't leave, not with Rolf's head on his lap.
"Y'know Rolf, it kinda sucks. Mama and Isold and Holde get to share all their secrets but we don't really got anybody. Papa's not much of a conversationalist, even when he is home."
Rolf tossed his head, "Shut up," And he drifted.
Constantijn rolled his eyes.
It wasn't that long before Isold and Mama came back into the room, and Isold said, "Constantijn, you'd better hear this," She plopped down on the faded rug.
"Well, if you'd talked loud enough in the other room, I might've been able to hear it," Constantijn retorted with a wry smirk.
"Constantijn," Mama sighed and sat down on Papa's big leather armchair. It nearly swallowed her. "The new job is at a factory closer to Berlin."
Papa must have worked that, Constantijn thought. "You'll have to go."
"We can't all go with her," Isold murmured, "It's too expensive."
"Holde will stay, at least," Mama said, "She needs to keep her job," She sat back and sighed, "But - I think Katrin and - Rolf, if he can..." She cast a worried glance at her son, "Should come with me. There's good opportunities there, for the Hitler Youth and later on."
"How long are you going to be gone?" Constantijn exclaimed.
Mama frowned, "Until the war is over, I guess... but Pieter's there, you know. Maybe if it works out the rest of you can join us later."
Isold looked up from the pattern on the carpet, "She'll still be able to send us more money than she made before."
"Wow," Constantijn said, "Papa's sure looking out for you."
Mama smiled gently, "No, it wasn't him - they had some openings."
"And Papa's watching out for you," Constantijn said knowingly.
"That too," Isold agreed.
Constantijn watched Isold's slender hand, delicate despite constant hard work, trace a red flower in the carpet. "How soon do you leave?" He already knew the answer, swimming around and fogging up his head.
"Tomorrow, if I can," Mama said softly, "Two of the other woman who got promoted and I are going together. They're bringing their families, too, we're renting a small building together,"
"That's fast," Constatijn said, "You'd better get moving,"
She gasped, "Oh, I'd better!"
Isold seemed to grasp this opportunity and leapt up, pulling Mama from her seat, "Come on, I'll help you pack!" She laughed, "It'll be fun!"
Mama glanced momentarily at Rolf, but Isold tugged her out of the room.