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The little girl looked up at the woman, tears in her eyes. Then she bent forward and put her head into her hands, rocking back and forth, back and forth.
"Why did you lie to me?" the woman said in a harsh, monotonous voice, full of something that might very well be hatred or an intense dislike. "You must have known that I would find out about you." The "about you" was almost spat out like a curse. "You should be grateful for my helping you and your family, but you resemble your mother ...."
At the words "your mother" the little girl looked like she stopped listening. Instead she rocked back and forth even faster than before.
"Well, and now what shall I do to make you understand your social obligations in life?"
The girl shot one fast glance at her, but didn't reply. "I shall see to it that you start thinking about your situation by collecting your toys and send it to someone who deserves it. Do you understand me?"
This time the girl dared a muffled "no" and at once the strong palm of the woman hit her cheek twice.
"What about now, did that help you to understand me?" the woman asked.
The girl didn't answer, but tears trickled down her cheeks, wetting her T-shirt.
"Now see what you've done," the woman yelled, shaking her fiercely by her naked and already bruised forearm.
At that moment there was someone at the door. The woman looked annoyed, but let go of the child's arm to answer the door. The girl sat listening to the muffled voices as the woman let in someone she couldn't see.
When she turned around and saw who it was she jumped to her feet, yelling "Karen" in a voice as if she didn't believe her own eyes. The newcomer opened her arms and drew her close.
"There, there," she said, kissing her wet cheek and patting her back, "what is this, Marie, are you crying?"
The child buried her head in her bosom and didn't answer. Instead the woman took over the conversation, saying in an angry voice: "Marie has been so very naughty today that I told her someone else was to get her toys."
"Naughty?" Karen said. "My little sister is never naughty." She held Marie at arm's length and now she noticed bruises, some old, some new, on her arms and in her face. "What is this, you are not allowed to beat my sister?"
The woman let out an annoyed hissing sound, and Karen let go of her little sister and turned to face her instead: "This must have been going on for some time. When I see these bruises …. Well, I'm taking my sister to the doctor to let him have a look at them. Don't expect that that will be the end of the matter ...."
That remark made the woman's facial expression turn from angry to worried. "I haven't done anything," she said, "except feeding and tending your sister, but sometimes she is very difficult to handle …."
The large eyes of the child looked directly into the eyes of her sister with steadfast glance. She didn't speak, but neither did she flinch. As the eyes of the sisters interlocked, Karen nodded one short nod, closed her eyes for a second and again turned towards the woman.
"I know that a child in grief may be difficult to communicate with, but one thing is for sure: My sister isn't naughty and she doesn't deserve to be beaten by the one who promised - and was paid - to look after her while I was away to bring order in our late mother's estate. I've only been gone for two weeks and to me it looks like Marie has been beaten every single day of that time."
By now the woman looked positively scared, and as Karen started to speak again, she hurriedly said: "I may have been a little harsh a couple of times and I'm sorry for that ...."
"All right, but that doesn't solve the problem because child care is your job, your obligation, and that's what pays your bills. Still, this happens so I feel that your business ought to be shut down for good."
"No-no, please understand, that Marie really was naughty, she ruined my TV and cut my books ...." At the words "ruined my TV" Karen glanced quickly at Marie.
"How did she ruin your TV?" she asked.
"I don't know, but it simply seized up when she used it the first time. The same happened with my coffee machine and my computer. I don't know what she does, but …."
At this statement the sisters slowly turned to face each other and Karen started to laugh while a sheepish smile erupted on Marie's face. "Oh you," Karen said, "I knew it, you've got it ...."
The woman looked bewildered at the sisters. "Well, I know that it's a difficult time for Marie - and for you - her mother just dying in such a gruesome way and everything ...."
"Yes," Karen said, "she was murdered by a flock of idiots who thought she was a witch …. that we know ...."
"How horrible, I really am very sorry ...." the woman said, but she looked more annoyed than sad.
"All right, Mrs. Smith, we shall not need you anymore, and I shall pay you what you deserve."
"We did agree upon fixed wages," the woman said, "so I have no doubt that ...."
Karen smiled and said: "Well, there is always room for doubts." While speaking she lifted her right arm as did Marie and both of the sisters pointed at Mrs. Smith while humming in a high pitched voice. The woman looked totally bewildered, but her facial expression changed into terror when she slowly fell to the floor, shrinking more and more. In a little while, all there was left was her clothes and something that moved within it. Karen and Marie watched as the creature in the clothes peeked out.
"A toad! I knew it!" Karen yelled, grabbing a heavy book from the coffe-table and bashing the creature over the head, flattening it to the floor.
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Else Cederborg
