Devotion(88)

‘Karl?’ Augusta bent under the dripping canvas and called into the tree. ‘We’ve visitors. Anna Maria Eichenwald, Frau Nussbaum. They’d like to see you.’

There was a pause, then Karl, groaning, lifted his head. ‘Ein Fest, oder?’ The words wheezed out of him.

Anna Maria crawled into the hollow on her knees. ‘Yes, a party. How are you feeling, Karl?’

‘I don’t think I’m long for this world.’

‘Don’t say that,’ Augusta said. She gestured for Anna Maria to pass her the baby. ‘Karl has become morose,’ she whispered to Mama.

I crept into the tree on my hands and knees and made my way to Karl’s side. He lay on his back as Anna Maria, now leaning over him, gently turned his head one way then the other, and examined his tongue and limbs. When she lifted the blankets, I saw that his feet were so bloated as to be disfigured. The legs of his trousers had been cut at the seams to allow for the swelling.

‘How on earth did you walk all the way up the ranges?’ Anna Maria exclaimed.

Karl attempted a smile. ‘Augusta’ – he paused to breathe – ‘dragged me. She is a force.’

‘You need vinegar,’ Anna Maria said gently. ‘Some vegetables.’ She stretched her neck towards the canvas awning, where Thea was pulling faces at Wilhelm. ‘Thea, how are the radishes?’

I heard Thea hesitate. ‘Not ready.’

‘The tops are up, though?’

‘Yes.’

‘Go get them.’ Anna Maria stroked Karl’s hand. ‘Some greens will help.’

Karl nodded. Speaking seemed to tire him. ‘See she marries again,’ he murmured.

Anna Maria shushed him. ‘No need for her to marry when she already has a fine husband.’

‘Please. I want . . . my son to have a father. How will she survive on her own?’

Anna Maria patted his hand. ‘Don’t you worry about that now. Rest, and I’ll bring you something to eat in a little while.’

‘I may not have as long as that,’ breathed Karl. ‘I see her.’

‘Who?’

‘The angel.’ He pointed to where I sat holding my knees to my chest, resting against the inside of the tree.

Hair lifted on the back of my neck.

Anna Maria was silent. She glanced in my direction. ‘You see something?’

Karl nodded.

I leaned forwards, body prickling, mouth dry. ‘You see me?’

‘She speaks,’ he said.

‘What is she saying?’ Anna Maria’s voice was quiet. Careful.

I placed a hand on his leg. Felt it twitch beneath my palm. ‘Karl?’

Karl’s eyes crinkled into a smile. ‘Nun ruhe ich in Gottes H?nden. Now I rest in God’s hands.’

I scrambled closer, leaning over his face so that my hair fell onto his forehead. ‘Sie sehen mich?!’

He closed his eyes. ‘I see it all,’ he said softly, and then he began to cough.

When the fit passed, he lapsed into unconsciousness.

‘What is it?’ I heard Augusta ask from outside the tree. ‘Anna Maria, what is it?’

Thea crawled into the hollow clutching radish tops in her hand, hair misted with rain. She was breathing hard. ‘I ran,’ she explained to Anna Maria, glancing down at Karl before giving her mother an uncertain look. ‘Is he dead?’

Anna Maria gave a little shake of her head. ‘Soon,’ she whispered.

Augusta’s face appeared. ‘He’s sleeping?’

Anna Maria crawled out from Karl’s side. I could hear her directing Augusta away from the tree. ‘He might become better,’ she was saying. ‘But he might not, too. He has been unwell for some time, I think.’

Thea sat still, staring at Karl. She picked up a corner of his blanket and wiped the rain from her face, then gently tucked him in. I saw her look around the hollow. Shiver.

I touched the ends of Thea’s brilliant hair, lit with water. Put them to my lips.

Sour wine on the hyssop.


Anna Maria remained with Augusta all afternoon. As they boiled radish tops, I crouched over Karl within the hollow tree and willed him awake. Every time he shifted or groaned, I spoke to him.

‘Wake up,’ I whispered. ‘Wake up.’

But Karl did not rouse back into consciousness. That afternoon his breathing became strangled and Anna Maria gently advised Augusta to summon the elders. I watched the man’s chest rise and fall with wet breaths as Papa prayed over and blessed him. I thumped my fist on Karl’s heart. ‘Wake up. Tell them you see me! Tell my father you see me!’

The rain began to fall in earnest. Wilhelm’s cries were drowned out by the sound of the downpour upon the canvas.


They left Karl’s body for three days, covered with a sheet that gathered a detritus of unfamiliar flowers and leaves as the congregation paid their respects. I spent every hour of daylight at his body’s side, wondering if Karl would reappear as I had. But when the body was finally lowered into the ground beside the church – the first, lonely grave in that cemetery – I remained alone.



If others are here, as I am, we are as unseen to one another as the living. The lonely dead, wishing for ghosts of our own.