When the guy went away disappearing among the crowd in the street Albert and Sylvanus had the clear sensation they had eaten salty food. That was what they picked from that brief encounter. They were happy as ever. The sky was serene and peaceable over them. The name Shuff penetrated their ears deeply: this was what the guy had whispered to them earlier. It was not a friendly way to introduce himself but for the two friend it was enough to say they had a sort of peaceful relationship with the shop owner. They had simply to be careful to leave the place tidy and clean until the day they would give it back to the owner. They hoped that that day would arrive as soon as possible. They felt they had been brilliant by the way they had dealt with the man. A shop for them, that was it. It was not the most glamorous part of the city but a lot of people gathered there every day. Later on, they went to subscribe themselves in the register of independent workers. They must be careful not to make a fake move. A job was a job. They were in the seventh heaven. They had already in mind the way they would organize their job. They would sell special meat of any kind. They dreamt of wearing aprons dirty with blood to show fondness of the job. They were sure that their enterprise would be a success.
Hilarious and contrived they went around Amsterdam to look for the tools for the activity as a start they wanted to use an unfolded stock. Ideas over ideas were overflowing. They envisaged themselves giving pork to the first customer. They envisaged themselves dealing with money with the first sale. They ran and ran with their thoughts.
It was later on in the evening that they decided to inform Araon and Jill of the news. It was never too late for a friend to make a phone call. But the line was busy so they postponed the call to the following day. They spent the entire day speculating on this and that. They were euphoric. They arrived quite late at Sylvanus house where they spent the night. Their high spirit status prevented them from sleeping the whole night. They were both looking forward to the next step to start their brand-new job. The moon outside was sparkling over the shade of their nice flat. No noise of the traffic or whatever would annoy them. Albert was in his bedroom, while Sylvanus was sleeping on the sofa of the sitting- room. This last got up now and then to have a glass of water. The taste of their affair was insipid.
Morning finally arrived for the two exhausted businessmen who alternated sleeplessness with good sleep during the night. Albert watched himself in front of the mirror and noticed a small wrinkle in his check. He sounded invisibly depressed. Youth was going away but the enthusiasm for life flame would never extinguish itself. For Sylvanus things were different. He was all focused on the new job opportunity to forget anything unpleasant that would happen to him. They arrived at the shop at nine am as agreed. Shuff was a bit late. When he finally arrived the two friends started to breath normally again. It was the beginning of a new chapter in their life and this would bring them joy and peace. They had reached the status they had always dreamt of.
Jill had a tiring day at the knitting course. Her knitting needle had a spike as tiny as an ant. Absent-minded as she was, she stung herself in the finger that started immediately to bleed. She was cuddled with an immediate aid from her nearby colleague. “What’s wrong today Jill?” She tried to comfort her.
“Nothing’s wrong. I just feel I am not at my best today.”
The teacher approached the two women as her duty suggested her to do and had some spare words of complaining to Jill. She had noticed that while her colleagues finished their job in a perfect way Jill had sewed a piece of cloth that resembled a handkerchief. Definitely that was not good. The teacher promised Jill that for the next week she would send another teacher for novices on purpose for her.
After that Jill carried on knitting with absolute indifference. She was devastated with her mind full of trouble because of her discovery of Araon’s blood test result hidden in the cellar. “How stupid!” she thought. “Maybe he is just concerned with his fertility situation even if he was dealing with this issue in the wrong way.” She was so distracted that she noticed late that all women of the course were allowed to have a break and some tea with biscuits and to chat. Jill was consumed with anger but she found it easy to communicate with the eldest of her colleagues. The subject was, of course, her desire to become mum soon.. Her colleague, a woman of fifty-five, told her a story about a lady in her middle forties who had lost her womb because of a fibroma she finally could have a baby thanks to a new technique that allowed an aspiring mum to have a womb from one donor to be used until the end of the pregnancy. “Imagine the joy,” the woman whispered with charm.
“I wouldn’t do it even if I needed it,” said Jill relaxed. “I don’t know why these practices cause moral issues. I cannot see anything wrong with it. Anyway, this is not my case. I’m just waiting for my pregnancy test I repeat every week, results positive. I guess you have children and that you are proud of,” said Jill.
“Of course. I have four children. The eldest is married and has a four-year-old baby. I am a grandmother. I have joined this course just to relax myself. I have to look after my niece and I do it with a sense of huge responsibility. But I have not to deny, I enjoy myself a lot here. As you can see, we are surrounded by nice ladies who are committed to their hobby and that they all have their own story to tell. I noticed you immediately when you arrived here for the inauguration day. You looked lost in despair. I tried to figure out what was that sadness in your eyes. Such a cruel thing for a beautiful woman like you. You reminded me of an old schoolmate who had lost her sense of direction when she was a teenager because of a love story which went wrong. Of course, I haven’t read such desperation in you but you looked so forlorn. I’m still waiting that you reveal to me something plain about your life. I am not used to make comparisons between the people I know but you have inspired me to do so at first sight. I have also my problems but I’ll tell about them to you later on. So. Come on, speak now. Don’t be shy.”
“OK, you have won. I speak first. Motherhood has always been my main issue in my life. And with a bit of patience life has blessed me with the gift of four children. I wish the same good luck to you. You’ll see your pregnancy test will read positive soon. There is no dream that cannot be fulfilled,” said the lady with warm manners.
“You have helped me a lot with your enthusiasm. I do not wish to have a brood of four. For me one is more than enough. My husband trembles and gets nervous more and more every time I go to repeat my pregnancy test. My doctor advised me to be patient. The big news will arrive at the proper moment. I am thirty-three years old and I don’t think this will benefit my dream of becoming a mother. With the years our body works less as you know. I hate people who are judgmental. My husband and me haven’t coveted to have a baby so far. Sometimes I feel stupid to believe my husband hides something from me. I have found accidentally some papers concerning fertility test in the cellar of my flat and I got cantankerous. Why does my husband need to be so hush-hush to me? But at the end I understand he is simply worried that something may go wrong. Definitely I have to calm down,” answered Jill softly.
“Are you ready to start again?” asked the teacher to all the women who went immediately to their place. Jill swore to herself that she had to improve. The chat with the lady had boosted her mood. Now she was happy to keep the same rhythm of the women surrounding her. She took away the plaster from her finger which was not bleeding any more and picked the tool of her expertise. She handled the knitting needle with great skill and craft. At least she could manage to create a sleeve in her piece of woollen cloth. The bell rung at twelve am., time to finish the lesson.
Jill arrived home making her heart beat faster. She was full of joy. Araon was already there waiting for her. He looked soaked and dumb. “Hi, love,” she said- How long have you been waiting for me?”
“I have just arrived. I was at work until now. It was a so called brave new world. Just joking Jill. I just want to seem erudite.”
“What is the news?”
“Nothing special apart from th
e request from a labourer of mine to issue him with a certificate that states he is able to use the plough. He is looking for a part-time job to do when he leaves the yard at five pm. What about you? How are things going at your knitting course?”
“It was a special day for me since I have learnt a lot and improved my skills terrifically. I had a long chat with a nice lady at half-time and, of course, I was thinking of you as usual.”
“I was also thinking of you all the time. You know what’s weird? When I was chatting with my colleague, I had the mirror in front of me and I noticed a tiny wrinkle in my cheek. When I was on my way back home, I looked at myself in the hand mirror and I noticed that the wrinkle was actually a scar. I was worried about looking older than my age. But what about you? Why are you so soaked?”
“I sweated a lot when I was working.”
The two gave vent to their passion and waited for the day to run quickly.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Mark the homeless was a man of great joy when it came to being entirely committed to his enterprises. But it was an anonymous day at the riding school when a large attendance of the public tried his patience. He had to deal first with the juniors. There were only ten ponies available for twenty teens waiting to start their galloping. Luckily, Mark was an expert in disentangling the most difficult situations. He managed to make the young guys mount the horses for half an hour each without missing any details of the ride they were supposed to embrace in an hour. Mark had been able to entertain them with an obstacle race among other things.
The weather was blistering hot but it didn’t cause difficulties of any kind. Then the turn of the adults arrived. He called first a couple of Swedes who had been living in Amsterdam for ten years. The man was famous for being a big skirt-chaser. His wife had always refused the idea of a divorce, worried if she could cope with her financial difficulties. When they arrived at the horse, Mark sniffed a bad stinking smell coming from the woman pants. It was a prone to vomit situation. And apart from that, the bad smell of the woman wasn’t much different from the smell of the blood of the acrostic he found on the pub door. His mind started giggling over the issue.
All that kept Mark busy with his puzzle more and more How could the pub owner not have noticed the blood on the door? Probably that day he was in a hurry for being an hour late and he opened the door without making the glass slide and making the blood visible. It was clear that Mark was the first customer to come in and clean those horrendous traces of death. Or maybe they were traces of life. Busy as he was with his puzzle, he forgot to give the couple any instruction to mount the horse. He had chosen a bay horse for the lady who showed herself to be particularly attentive to any gesture of organization from the owner of the riding school. Her husband didn’t feel at ease among all those people. He was a sinner and he was frightened that an inappropriate gesture could be misleading, or even worse, could reveal a less than innocent glance of him at the rest of the group. On the other side, he refused to believe that his wife was interested only in his money. He was vain because of his class and intelligence and he was sure to have won his wife despite everything. That day it was different. He noticed how his jewel, his wife, kept her distance furiously as if he was not there at all. He was the one who decided to join that course and his wife had accepted it submissive as she was. Her face didn’t show the slightest emotion. He lost control of the situation and his horse was running faster than due making him fall into the grass. He was half-wounded. “This is the last time for me,” he cried painfully. Aid arrived instantly and he was asked to lay on the bench. He had nothing else to do other than watching his wife pompous on her bay horse. She seemed so icy and indifferent to the accident. She carried on with her ride proud to be a better jockey than her husband.
Mark, who had witnessed all the sequence went to have a brief chat with the guy. “Lucky you,” he said looking at the bandaged leg of the man. “I’m sorry we have not introduced each other properly today. My name is Mark as everybody knows here. What is your name?”
“My name is Ale and my wife is Fen. We wanted to spend a day enjoying ourselves with a different to usual hobby before the end of our holidays. We work very far from here but we have heard of you from a couple of friends who had a lesson here a week ago and they were very happy about it. As you can see my wife is still agile. I have never seen her so nimble in our life. After all she is twenty years my junior. We married three years ago and I have lived my marriage as a villain with the risk of smashing it into pieces. I don’t want to hide from you the truth that everybody knows. Luckily, we haven’t got children. My vices haven’t moved away the woe I have made when I married and I hope that my low life won’t make me end with a divorce,” said the man with a hint of sadness.
“From what I hear, I consider myself lucky because I am not married. It’s not long I have been working here and the prospect of marriage has not faced me yet. Today I’m very busy but I can manage to have an eye of surveillance to you and your wife anyway. It’s the first time I have had to deal with fifty people in an hour. That means good money and I am glad about it. If I only think that a couple of months ago, I was living in the streets. Yes. That’s the truth That is the reason why they call me Mark the homeless. A hospital has taken care of me and housed me. And after a while they offered me this job I’m doing now. I feel as bright as a falling star. But let’s stop talking about it. It’s a very busy day for me today. I have to go and have a look at the other jockeys. I wish you good luck for your leg.”
Mark was strangely nervous. He knew that Ale was not a good fellow though he had listened to his story with great interest. The stink of Fer seemed an important anomaly. It made his thoughts fly in a different direction though he had left these smart considerations to his spare time.
Five p.m. arrived quickly. Mark was extremely exhausted. He had organized his day very well but he was under the influence of the signs of the time. He had to rush to the hospital and check if the notebook he used to write anything in was in the same place. In fact, one of the notes was addressed to his involvement into the mystery of the blood at the pub door. Nobody in the hospital should be aware of it. Lucky enough he found the pieces of the messed papers under his bed. He added a word to the others: stink. He had to be fast-thinking to reach a conclusion with this last element. He crossed his fingers and went to lay on the bed to relax and think incessantly. “What a nice flavour!” Were the spare words he said aloud. He felt to be the weirdest of the weird. Nobody would irritate him while he was in the room. He repeated the letters of the acrostic and he tried to figure out a link between them and the stink of the lady. It was obviously the stink of menstrual blood.
Agonizing shouts could be heard from the brothel nearby in Plaza Dam. “Speak, speak. Say what you know,” the owner of the place telling Rose, whipping her till she bled. “What did the police want from you?”
Rose didn’t speak despite the pain. She was the niece of the fat old lady who had learnt she had started again the low life. Rose at the end whispered some words out of her sufferance. “The police were enquiring about the disappearance of one of us. They came to know it because her flat here in Amsterdam is still receiving post and her relatives have failed in finding an address where to direct the correspondence.”
While she was busy with her director her colleagues pretended to hear nothing. One of them was enjoying a wax, another one was pampering herself with a gentle soap, another one was idling away while waiting for the first customer to come. Rose was still under stress. Her boss wanted to know more to make sure that the government hadn’t found out that he hadn’t paid all the taxes the previous month. “Are you sure that they asked only about your colleague? he repeated nervously.
Her relationship with her co-workers was sacred but it was not her own decision to talk. “Yes, I can swear it. I didn’t know the name of the prostitute they are looking for but it’s clear she disappeared over three months ago. Her relatives decided to look for her just now
because they didn’t consider weird the fact that they hadn’t heard from her in such a long time. She left Amsterdam without leaving details of her new profession and pledging that she would get in touch with them as soon as she could. Her relatives were happy she had changed life and waited patiently for her call to arrive. But all this time nothing happened and her relatives created an uproar sending police everywhere. There is nothing else I can tell you.
“But why did the police question you and not all your colleagues?”
“Because I was her closest friend and that was what her relatives have reported to the police so far.”
“OK, you have convinced me that I had better wait. You are free to carry on with your daily duty now.”
The boss of the brothel gave Rose a piece of cloth to take the blood out of her backbone. Rose relieved her pain with soft gestures of her hands and went immediately to her place in the window, free to give herself to the first customer. This arrived quite soon. He was a bearded fascinating guy in his early forties. He introduced himself as Charlie, a Frenchman with Dutch origin. Rose was so happy to see the result of her fatigue early in the morning. She was probably the first one of the prostitutes to have somebody to deal with. She addressed Charlie in her room and started to touch him, to caress him to whisper words of solace. Charlie wanted to be sure to have safe sex and gave Rose a condom as a start. He confessed to have trespassed the limits of his moral side because of his wife’s lack of attention. He was in Amsterdam for a job, being a countryman. He was shocked to find that Rose had her backbone covered with bruises. “What happened to you? I can see your backbone is a disaster.”
“Nothing wrong. The fact is that I have been exposed to the bonfire for a long time and here are the results.”
The Red Box Page 25
