Adelé van Soothsbay

by JH Terry

  “Oh Jan, nice to see you too, you and your father are so much alike, always making me laugh with the first thing that comes out of your mouths!” exclaimed Uncle Pieter. “Do you not see her?”

  Angry, Jan said, “No, I do not. If you mean she is dead then you can kindly go now with you boyfriend for all I care.”

  “Urrr,” said Uncle Pieter with an anger that made Jan take a step backwards even with the musket in his hand. “You big fool, Jan. This here boy is Adelé.”

  Jan and Sarie looked in amazement as the boy sure enough took the hat from off of his head to show the long, flowing brown hair and the face that was Adelé.

  Jan and Sarie still stood transfixed by the sight of Adelé as all of their hopes of an easy regain of their lost reputation into society vanished. Adelé was definitely a tomboy as she wore clothes like a boy, unheard of by any woman of the day, even the rebellious ones, and she even walked like one.

  Suddenly Jan heard a thump and looking behind him saw Sarie cold on the floor. As the maid helped with Sarie, Jan turned to Uncle Pieter no longer transfixed, but angry.

  “Who has been caring for my daughter all of this time? She is not in the attire of a lady. I gave her to you to take care of and this is how you bring her up?”

  “Bring her up?” asked Uncle Pieter with a sly smile. “If anything you act as if I asked her to come, you must remember without so much as a word of my accepting her coming she already was on her carriage up here. And if I hadn’t received that letter in time she would be dead by now.”

  “What do you mean?” asked Jan.

  “They were hit by an Indian party, and your precious Adelé here would have made a fine scalp if I hadn’t come in time to save her from her fate, as well as Mary and Pickles, too bad the carriage driver wasn’t so lucky.”

  “Speaking of Mary and Pickles, where are they?”

  “Why, they went to Boston on some business with their children. They say they don’t want to set foot again in this town, how did they say it, too many ignorant people.”

  “The audacity,” said Jan with anger still in his voice rising.

  “Children?” asked Sarie revived.

  “Yes,” said Adelé, speaking for the first time. “Six of them.”

  “My goodness,” said Jan with a sneer. “That shows you how busy they are up there, too busy with having children than to look after my child.”

  “Looking after Adelé is my business, Jan, that is why we are here temporarily.”

  “Temporarily?” asked Jan concerned.

  “Yes,” said Uncle Pieter with a gleam in his eyes. “Did you think that I was going to leave her to a bunch of weasels like you? You still will never understand Jan, your mind is too small like your father’s, perhaps in death you will finally think big.”

  “I do not like your insolent tone, Pieter,” said Jan.

  “Fine then, we’ll go, with a short stop to the pub, if course,” said Pieter turning around with Adelé doing the same.

  “Wait,” said Jan remembering the need for Adelé to stay. “Pieter, Uncle Pieter, I am sorry for the way I have acted. You look different, younger than before,” said Jan, though it was a really big lie.

  “And you definitely look worse, the worst I have ever seen anyone in my life,” said Uncle Pieter truthfully. Jan smiled falsely, though he was angry inside, and said, “Please, do come in.”

  Uncle Pieter smiled, letting Adelé come in first as he trailed behind. Jan closed the door behind them, his eyes filled with anger and worry at the same time.

  XVI. Raucous and Bonfires

  A week had passed since Uncle Pieter and Adelé had come to the van Soothsbay home, and the result was havoc in the household. Jan and Sarie learned early enough that Adelé chewed tobacco, drank ale, could shoot a gun, swore as bad as Pieter, and liked it. Tutors were brought to teach Adelé about etiquette, sewing, and other feminine necessities, as food and drink was brought day and night to Uncle Pieter, who seemed to have been starving for weeks due to his enormous appetite.

  “Already a week and it seems that we have spend more than we ever did in any year,” said Sarie angrily in her room to Jan as she combed her hair and he sat on the bed. “It is ridiculous how much he eats, where does he put it all. I would not be surprised if he just threw it out of the window.”

  “I’ve checked,” said Jan in despair. “Not a crumb.”

  “Then the servant must be helping him.”

  “No, I check the times they are in there, even checking their mouths, nothing.”

  “Then I do not understand, it is humanly impossible. To eat so constantly, and that bell he rings when he wants more. Just yesterday he finished a whole turkey, for breakfast! How can anyone do that?”

  “This is Uncle Pieter, Sarie, he is capable of disappearing and reappearing if he really wanted to. The man is a mystery to me, and he seems to use that mystery to his advantage.”

  “But Adelé, she would know all of those things about him.”

  “Of course, but if Pieter ever found out we asked, then he will not act so polite as to just stay in his room.”

  “And that Adelé, I never knew that she was such an uncivilized girl. She throttled the Etiquette tutor after he pointed at her with a knife. A small thing like her doing that to a man, especially him who is so fat. I cannot believe what is happening in this week alone, yet alone this year. Higgles gone and Adelé a throttler. I did not know that having Adelé around just to get around the problem of Higgles would cost so much.”

  “I don’t know, Sarie,” said Jan with a sigh of despair. “At least she speaks properly, and she is not running after princes or behaves unlike a lady to the degree that Higgles did.”

  “I cannot believe what you are saying,” said Sarie surprised. “Adelé better than Higgles.”

  “We gave Higgles everything and she ran away from us, and Adelé we always threw away and she still came back here to be with us. I don’t know, perhaps Dr. Meukle was right.”

  “There you are being soft again,” said Sarie. “You know as well as I do that Adelé is a freak of nature, raised by that witch made her crazy, and that Mary was no better. We should have been harder on Adelé, taught her how to think properly and those problems with her fighting poor, defenseless Higgles would have never happened. If anything we need to be hard on Adelé, Jan.”

  “Or else what?”

  “Or else nothing, we will destroy all of those other thoughts from her head forever. You must not be weak anymore, Jan, weakness is not good in the least. Listen to what I say, remember I told you not to be too hard on Higgles, look at what happened. Now, listen to me, do not be too kind to Adelé, she uses it to use others and act as if she is innocent. Well, she is not. She is a cold, cunning creature, I should know I had her. I knew it when we first laid eyes on her she would be trouble, but I never knew to this amount. We must be hard upon her in order to make her a better person, Jan. Believe me when I say this, for I am right.”

  Jan looked to Sarie, seeing her eyes determined and unwilling to change her mind. “All right, Sarie,” said Jan. “If you feel it must be done.”

  “I know it must be done,” said Sarie. “Higgles was only in the thought of love about the prince, sooner, rather than later she will get back her mind.”

  Suddenly a scream was heard from the hallway. Jan quickly opened the door to smell something burning coming from out of Adelé’s room, rushing inside he saw something that shocked him. It was Mr. Broek, the table manners teacher, tied up in a chair, his mouth tied closed with a piece of cloth, surrounded by twigs and branches set afire.

  Jan kicked the twigs aside, patting them down with a bed sheet to stop them from burning. Once the fire was put out, Jan untied Mr. Broek’s mouth.

  “What happened?” asked Jan concerned and Mr. Broek’s hands and feet were also untied.

  “Your daughter, Miss van Soothsbay, and I ha
d a misinterpretation.”

  “Misinterpretation?” asked Sarie concerned.

  “I was trying to explain to her the best way to eat and prepare a turkey, when she told me the way Indians do it, a most barbarous way, and I told her so and that Indians and anyone who followed their cooking skills were uncivilized, with a small reference to her Uncle Pieter.”

  “Well?” asked Jan concerned that Uncle Pieter had learned of this.

  “Well, she told her Uncle Pieter (Jan let out short cry), who promptly told me how Indians properly roast Europeans to get the best flavor out of them. He ten proceeded to tie me to this chair, and after she had brought the twigs and he was starting to light them, she was dancing Indian style around me chanting something in some horrible language. They then left me here taking away all of my books and things until you came in.”

  “Where did they take those books?” asked Jan. However, before Mr. Broek could say anything screaming from the street below could be heard.

  “My goodness,” said Sarie. “The front of the house, in the street!”

  Down the stairs Jan, Sarie, and Mr. Broek rushed to the front door to the most horrible scene they had ever seen. Mr. Broek began to cry as all of their faces were flushed with warmth. It was Uncle Pieter, in traditional Indian attire, with the pile of things that were Mr. Broek’s burning in a bonfire, along with food from the stores of Jan’s and Sarie’s home.

  “My books!” exclaimed Mr. Broek in despair. “All from England, gone to be no longer used. It will take me months before I can get new ones, and I am not sure that they have the same books. Oh,” as he sobbed again.

  “Let’s close the door,” said Jan as he did so as Uncle Pieter attracted a larger crowd.

  “Do you think they know that he lives here?” asked Sarie, but as they looked outside they saw the eyes of everyone looking to them and Uncle Pieter pointing to the house.

  “Oh drats,” said Jan angrily. “Now we will have no reputation worth saving at all. What is Uncle Pieter saying?”

  Standing next to the door, Jan heard Uncle Pieter saying to the people outside, “Yes, I come from the Iroquois Nation to the north.”

  “Aren’t you a white man?” asked a little boy.

  “Yes, white by skin but Indian by heart. They are my brothers, as we hunt deer, squirrel, fish, and people in the forest.”

  “You hunt people?” asked a little girl.

  “Yes, but the tastes between people are different. I prefer Dutch, entirely irresistible you know, for they taste like chicken.”

  With screams several people ran away. One man said to Uncle Pieter, “You are crazy!”

  “Perhaps I am, but I think you will taste like turkey, my favorite. I would watch my house if I were you tonight.” Scared, the man ran home and closed his door, but like all the others they closed their doors but still stared at Pieter through their windows. “Remember, dear people of New Amsterdam. I’ll be seeing you all as you sleep tonight!”

  The faces in the windows disappeared. Uncle Pieter laughed out loud when suddenly from behind he heard walking, spinning around he saw it was a constable. The man had a smirk on his face over Uncle Pieter’s clothes as he said, “Good morning.”

  “Good morning,” said Uncle Pieter with a hatchet in his hand.

  “Where might you come from?”

  “I am a fur trader from up north, I am the uncle of Jan van Soothsbay, Pieter Fritter.”

  The constable took one step backwards, not due to what Pieter said but what was behind Pieter. Looking behind, Pieter saw that it was Adelé in her traditional Indian headdress and her face painted with various colors.

  “What is this?” asked the constable.

  “This is Adelé van Soothsbay.”

  “But…urr...you are dead!”

  “We are both dead in this world my friend,” said Uncle Pieter with a smile. “Would you like to join us? All it takes is a touch of my hand, come it won’t hurt a bit.”

  “NO!!!!!!!!!!” screamed the constable as he ran away.

  “I guess he doesn’t like our traditions, Uncle Pieter,” said Adelé.

  “Yes, but then I don’t like his either,” said Uncle Pieter. “What Indian eats people? How ignorant can someone be?”

  Uncle Pieter and Adelé smiled to each other and then went back to dancing around the bonfire. Jan and Sarie stared from inside hopeless against it as Mr. Broek cried over his books.

  XVII. The Strange Man

  Silence filled the street as Uncle Pieter and Adelé stopped dancing once the bonfire was put out. They noticed that everyone had closed their curtains, even the van Soothsbays.

  “I guess our fire is gone out and we have to go back inside, too bad it was very warm,” said Adelé saddened.

  “Who said we have to go back inside?” asked Uncle Pieter with a question-like face. “I would rather cause more havoc in good old New Amsterdam than take their nagging and complaining. So, people here think they are so high and mighty. They forgot a time, long ago when they first came, when they need the Indians help and even ate dead human bodies to survive. Well, I’ll show them how mighty a race they are.”

  Uncle Pieter then stormed down several streets with Adelé behind him, but stopped when into view there came a mob of men, some who were prominent citizens and others of the docks of New Amsterdam. News had already traveled of Uncle Pieter’s display and no one seemed happy to know that amongst his or her “happy, civilized” community there was a cannibal loose. At the head of the party stood Peter Stuyvesant. Though not well liked by the people of New Amsterdam, Peter Stuyvesant was still director general of the colony, since 1647 he had this post. He was a man of the Dutch West India Company and had lost his right leg after an attack on the island of Saint Martin. His hooknose seemed to hide more than the usual mucous of other noses, but a sinister meaning to his life so far. His dark brown eyes seemed to emit an aura of coldness and authority, whilst his long hair seemed groomed to an unreal perfection. Even his wooden leg seemed to have an air of being a master over all. Yes, Stuyvesant was cruel and heavy with his taxes, and very religious, but at least he could help the citizens solve a threat to their normal lives, a threat like Uncle Pieter.

  Stuyvesant walked over slowly to Uncle Pieter, as if his wooden leg were an actual leg just disguised by the human eye. The others stayed behind as he edged over, Uncle Pieter and Adelé staying where they were.

  “Adelé,” said Uncle Pieter concerned. “You had better walk back to the house.”

  “But…”

  “No, but, Adelé,” said Uncle Pieter. “I have serious business.”

  “Who can tote a musket, or drink a shot of whisky, or even ride a wild stallion as good, if not better than you? Me, and you know it. I am going nowhere, do not worry, if anything they will get hurt.”

  Uncle Pieter smiled at Adelé’s courage in willing to help him. “Fine then, stay, but stay here as I walk up to Mr. Stuyvesant.”

  Uncle Pieter walked up to Stuyvesant, with both looking the other in the eyes. There seemed calmness to both on the outside, but a hidden hatred on the inside. “Hello, Pieter,” said Stuyvesant with a smile. “How are your savage friends doing? Sent you to do some scout work, learn about our defenses, destroy our city and kill our men, set our children as slaves, and our women…”

  “Do not tell me you believe the garbage you fill in the heads of others,” said Pieter with a sneer. “Since the West Indies, Stuyvesant, you have been a thorn in my…”

  “Side?”

  “No, lower and more smelly.”

  “You have no respectability, sir, only you would say something so nasty out loud. Do you have no manners? What is it about us here that you hate so much that you live with such savages? Is it because they are uncivilized? What, do you wish that you could be that way too?”

  “If you must know they are more civilized than you have ever been, you just do not understand how c
ivilized they are.”

  “What, wearing that ridiculous dress?”

  “If anything your frilly dress is ridiculous. What is the point of what you are wearing? To look better than everyone around you and have their envy, at least they dress because they need to stay warm and it is the only clothing they have. You will never understand Stuyvesant, never. You and these people are sad, too sad to even try to understand, but perhaps that is the problem. Letting you people off I ignorance has changed nothing, only made that ignorance worse and innocent people will suffer, those who are Indian and Dutch.”

  “Dear me, Pieter, you should have been an orator, you speak so well. I see that your audience, the worms in the ground have gone up to congratulate you for they are the only ones stupid enough to listen.”

  “Too bad you are stupider than a worm, Stuyvesant.”

  Anger showed throughout Stuyvesant now as Uncle Pieter still remained calm, an unnatural ability of his. As Adelé stayed behind she looked to her left as an old woman passed by the side of the street, who smiled at her. The face seemed very familiar to Adelé, but before she could think of this the woman had turned a corner and gone, leaving her face out of Adelé’s memory as if she had not just seen her.