Disclaimers, acknowledgements, notes, warnings, etc: Please see Chapter 01.
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The Sound of Music Chronicles
Part I
The Twelfth Governess
Chapter 14
Poor little dears
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"It is not a bad thing that children should occasionally, and politely, put parents in their place."
Colette
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"The only safe ship in a storm is leadership."
Faye Wattleton
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Maria looked at the silver boatswain whistle in her hand, and, only for a moment, found herself lost in thought.
"It is funny how I was so worried about the seven children, when the real challenge seems to be their father...," she smiled to herself.
Well, she would deal with her insufferably arrogant employer later. The bits and pieces she had heard about him had meant useless, everything about him had been entirely unexpected to her.
She had half expected his house to be filled with little objects here and there that were reminders of his life at sea: anchors, sextants, seashells, fishnets, bottled miniature ships... She´d seen little of it yet, but there was no nautical symbol in sight, not a single one, and something told her that she would not find any if she dared to look. There was nothing around her saying that it was a home belonging to a naval officer, except, perhaps, for the military bearing of its owner.
And then, there was the man himself…
After those enervating few moments, it was impossible for Maria to imagine Captain von Trapp as the bus driver had described him, the gallant knight who had a gazebo built for his lady love… She even wondered if there was any truth to the old man´s tales, or they were only the product of a fantasy about how life should be in an idealized aristocratic family living in an idyllic village in the outskirts of Salzburg.
However, if there as any truth to what she had been told during that bus ride was that he was the kind of man who made quite an impression on the ladies. Maria was not a lady, but she was very much impressed. It was impossible not to recall her conversation with Theresa and Christina two days before, when she thought that the girls were so silly... Despite the fact that Maria was sure she would never make such a spectacle of herself because of a handsome man – or gentleman, as they had insisted -, at least now she could understand their curious reaction. Obviously, her postulant friends had the opportunity to take a closer look at her employer. Granted, he was no Michelangelo´s David, but, undeniably, he was a fine figure of a man. His eyes, however, were his most striking feature: they were of a deep, midnight blue. At first glance they appeared cold and unfeeling as he lectured her, but then, whenever she said something that shocked or appalled him, they would be unguarded for a split second, but long enough for her to see all sorts of emotions trying to hide in its depths, feelings that she could barely begin to understand. Yet, none of those were for her, except for that chilling coldness, as if he wished she did not even exist…
Maria shuddered. Perhaps later she would spend some time thinking about all that. At least she would try to understand why such a notable man had turned into such a despotic tyrant with his own children. As extraordinary as the Captain had appeared to her, he was not her biggest worry at the moment, he was not the reason she was sent to his home. Now she must address the matter at hand, the reason why she was there in the first place: the children staring at her, their faces not at all friendly. The seven of them had started giggling while she watched the Captain leave the room, but once she turned around, they snapped back to attention, staring straight ahead. Only their eyes moved from side to side betrayed the fact that they were very, very much alert… It was up to her to make the first move, and they made that quite obvious.
Maria sighed.
"Oh well, let me see what I can do about this… I should start with something they can relate to."
She thought for a moment and issued her first command:
"At ease."
In an immediate response to her order, the children, in unison, placed their hands behind their backs and relaxed their posture only slightly.
"So much for having a disciplinarian for a father… What a well-trained bunch," she thought. "Sister Berthe would really enjoy it if all of her postulants obeyed her like this…"
She then proceeded to address the children in what she believed was a calm, friendly voice.
"Well, now that there's just us, would you please tell me all your names again and how old you are?"
The first one, a strikingly beautiful girl, blue eyed and dark haired like her father, stepped forward and back in military fashion.
"I'm Liesl. I'm sixteen years old, and I don't need a governess."
"Well, I'm glad you told me, Liesl. We'll just be good friends," Maria replied.
The sixteen year old could hardly be blamed. A young lady already and she had the same governess as her five year old sister, which also meant that she was treated the same way. And there was nothing more infuriating to a sixteen year old than to be treated like if she was less than her actual age. How could her father be so blind to something so obvious, even to her, who never had the privilege to live in a large family without so many children?
Oblivious to the fact that she had just gained an ally, Liesl looked at her like she did not want a friend either. At least she did not want her new governess as a friend.
"Well, I'll worry about that later," Maria shrugged, as the second in line stepped forward. He was almost as tall as his older sister, but with blond hair.
"I'm Friedrich. I'm fourteen. I'm impossible."
"So is your father," Maria wanted to say, but held her tongue just in time. Judging by the little she had seen, those children had enough problems with their martinet of a father already; she did not need to add one or two to the list.
Maria looked at Friedrich. The Captain´s eldest son, who had the duty to carry the family name to future generations. She could not help but wonder if one day this boy, who tried so hard to hide a sensitive soul behind a mask achingly similar to his father, would become an infuriatingly arrogant martinet as well.
"Impossible? Really?" The boy´s face turned red. "Who told you that, Friedrich?"
"Fräulein Josephine. Four governesses ago." He stated proudly.
"That would be the 8th governess, if I'm not mistaken," Maria did a quick mental calculation.
The third in the line, stepped out and in. She had very long blonde hair, and light brown eyes.
"I'm Brigitta!"
Maria smiled and thought. "I am sorry, darling, but I invented this trick when I was half your age. I am afraid you chose the wrong victim."
She looked into the girls defiant blue-grey eyes.
"You, um, didn't tell me how old you are, Louisa," she said slowly, stressing the little rebel's name. The look on her face was impossible to decipher, but somehow Maria knew that Louisa may not like her very much at that moment, but at least she had earned her respect.
The girl who had arrived late because she was reading stepped out.
"I'm Brigitta. She is Louisa. She's thirteen years old, and you're smart." Maria smiled at the compliment, but apparently the girl wasn't done yet. "I'm ten, and I think your dress is the ugliest one I ever saw," she finished.
"I bet this one gets in trouble because of her running mouth too. I think I will get along with her just fine," thought Maria, while Brigitta stepped back in line.
The chubby cheeked boy, turned to her. "Brigitta, you shouldn't say that," he admonished her.
"Why not? Don't you think it's ugly?"
"Of course. But father always says that we should keep opinions about matters that do not concern us to ourselves. Besides, Fräulein Helga's was ugliest." Having said that, he stepped forward. "I'm Kurt. I'm eleven. I'm incorrigible."
"Congratulations!" Maria complimented him, not knowing exactly what to say, except, maybe, to say that there was nothing wrong with that. She sensed his father had been probably just as incorrigible when he was an eleven year old.
"What's incorrigible?" Kurt asked, frowning.
"I think it means you want to be treated like a boy," Maria suggested, not knowing, at the moment, exactly how to explain the meaning of the word to him.
Kurt seemed to have liked her answer well enough, but next to him, Brigitta rolled her eyes.
"No, it doesn´t! It means you are willful, unruly, and uncontrollable, Kurt."
The boy frowned at is younger sister. "But we all are willful, unruly, and uncontrollable. Eleven governess, and even father would have to agree with that," he added proudly.
"Besides, remember how mother used to call father willful, unruly, and uncontrollable as well?" Friedrich reminded them.
The elder children began a little debate about the exact meaning of incorrigible. Maria shrugged. It was something else she should have expected, judging by the little bits of information she had received, added to the Captain´s orders that the children should not dream away their summer holidays. She would be dealing with very clever children, outspoken and well read. Striking verbal battles with them would not as easy as it was with the children at the orphanage. No, she would have to be always prepared.
Fascinated, she watched their debate about the semantics of the word incorrigible for a few moments. They started it in their native German, then switched it to their mother´s tongue, English, but she could swear Brigitta had thrown one or two phrases in French now and them.
The next one in line, Marta, stepped forward and tugged at Maria's sleeve to catch her attention.
"Mm-hm?" hummed Maria, smiling down at the little girl.
"They are not supposed to do that, you know."
"To do what, darling?"
"To speak English or French when you can´t understand. Father says it is very rude. He would be boiling mad if he heard them now."
"Mmm, your father is…" It was at the tip of her tongue to say that, at least about this, her father was right, but then she thought that it would be just as tasteless of her to throw one child against the other like that. She could not do such a thing, she would never do it. "… a very wise man," she finished, settling for a neutral answer. "And you are…"
"I'm Marta, and I'm going to be seven on Tuesday, and I'd like a pink parasol."
"Well, pink's my favorite color too," Maria said, trying to charm the little girl.
The littlest, Gretl, stamped her foot, demanding attention.
"Yes, you're Gretl." The little one held up her open hand, showing all fingers. "And you're five years old? My, you're practically a lady."
Gretl and Marta giggled, but with the corner of her eye, Maria saw Liesl and Friedrich exchanging a sly look between them, while Louisa rolled her eyes. Their expressions turned impassive when Maria stepped back to look at the whole line. She remembered the first day when she had been in charge of a class of forty unruly orphanage children – she was less intimidated then than she was now, and her first lesson that day had been not to let those children realize she was in awe of them. Then, she recalled Sister Margaretta´s advice earlier that day.
"Be yourself".
"Now, I have to tell you a secret. I've never been a governess before," she confessed. However, she immediately regretted being so open and honest, because the children looked at each other, their expressions full of pure mischief.
"You mean you don't know anything about being a governess?" asked Louisa, looking exactly like a cat about to swallow a canary.
"Nothing. I'll need lots of advice," she admitted, with a slight shrug of her shoulders.
"We are experts in governesses. We know everything about them!" exclaimed Kurt.
"I am glad I am in the right place to begin with, then," said Maria.
"Well, the best way to start is to be sure to tell father to mind his own business," said Louisa almost scathingly, moving out of the line. Encouraged by their sister's initiative, the other children abandoned their formation, and crowded around Maria. "You had a very good start – father loves it when we stand up for our beliefs and say what we really think wherever we are and to whoever we are talking to."
"Really?" Maria wasn't so sure.
"You must never come to dinner on time," said Friedrich. "Remember – this is a house, not a warship."
"Never eat your soup quietly," was Brigitta´s advice, while her older brother made slurping noises.
"You are allowed to spill. And, during dessert, always blow your nose," said Kurt.
The children were coming closer and closer to her, in a tight circle. One of them even bumped into her, making her sway. Someone tugged at her hat, and Maria raised it above her head.
"Don't believe a word they say, Fräulein Maria!" exclaimed little Gretl, looking up to her.
"Oh, why not?"
"Because I like you!"
"Well, at least one out of seven, that is a start," thought Maria, a bit more encouraged now.
An elderly woman walked in, clapping her hands. Maria wondered briefly if that was not what a governess should look like, at least if that was what Captain von Trapp had been expecting.
"All right now, children. Outside for your walk. Father's orders. Now hurry up. Hurry up." She directed the children to the front door, and they reluctantly obeyed. They kept looking back at Maria with a number of different expressions on their faces. Mischief – yes. But also expectation. It was as if they were expecting something to happen, or expecting her to say something. "Quick, quick, quick, quick, quick."
The woman then turned to Maria.
"Uh, Fräulein Maria. I'm Frau Schmidt, the housekeeper."
"How do you do?" Maria greeted her politely, shaking her and offering her a smile.
"How do you do? I'll show you to your room now. Follow me, please." Frau Schmidt picked up Maria's bag. Grabbing her guitar, Maria started to follow her up the stairs. The children were still at the front door, watching the ladies intently – that alone, should have been a sign to Maria, one that - as she would learn in the following days - was not to be ignored. She took one long, sorrowful look at the little group.
"Poor little dears," she sighed.
Then she felt it – something was wiggling inside her pocket. Startled, Maria dropped her guitar and screamed. Reaching into the pocked, her hand touched something cold and slimy. She pulled it out, in revulsion, flinging it down the stairs, only to realize it was a frog. Maria leaned on the banister, sighing in relief, while the little creature crept out the front door, amongst the children's shoes. The children did not even look at it, and apparently were not bothered at all – their gazes were still fixed in the new governess.
Frau Schmidt broke the silence.
"You're very lucky. With Fräulein Helga it was a snake."
"Ugh!" Maria exclaimed, in revulsion or shock. Or both.
The somber faced children did not make a sound, while they exited through the door.