Nomads on the Amstel
47. Truths and consequences
Rob knocked on the door again and waited. All sorts of memories came flooding back, including staggering back in the early morning from riotous nights out with Arend. That first time that Arend had forgotten his key for instance. He looked up at the tall, sash window he had fallen through, after standing on Arend’s none too steady shoulders and trying to prise it open. He still had the scars on his neck where the glass shards had embedded themselves. Total atheists, they had nevertheless gone to the church of St. Nicolaas the next day to light candles of gratitude that he hadn’t been beheaded. Even now, he blushed at the thought that Arend’s giggling had got them thrown out.
A sudden weariness washed over him in the warmth of the early evening and the closeness of the city atmosphere. He could feel the heat radiating from the house bricks and sat down for a moment on the step. He was exhausted from the delays, having been almost twenty four hours on the go. He was still on Vancouver time and jet-lag had set in early. All he really wanted to do was sleep but the need to find out about Arend was paramount so his bags had been hastily deposited in his hotel room and without showering he’d headed straight here.
He had a very bad feeling about it all. Hoping against hope that Arend would open the door and tell him off for being a lazy cow; at the same time he didn’t really expect it. He’d rung several times of course but there’d been no answer and now he realised the foolishness of just turning up. If nobody was home he’d have to go back to the hotel. Suddenly that seemed a very attractive proposition.
He was just about to knock for the third and last time when the door opened. It was Michel, Arend’s younger gay brother. After a moment of puzzled incomprehension, he recognised his visitor.
“Hey, Rob; what a surprise! You’re the last person I expected to see this afternoon. Sorry for the delay mate but I was just having an hour on the bed. I thought you lived in Vancouver. Come in why don’t you? It’s a bit of a mess I’m afraid…”
Rob looked closely at the young man. There was no laughter in his eyes the way they used to be. They were lifeless and surrounded by lines and deep, grey bags. His skin was sallow and spotty and the hair was lank and greasy. This was not the Michel he remembered, or even the Michel from Arend’s letters; this was a young man grown old.
He followed him inside and reeled from the stink of stale smoke and old beer. His heart sank. All the signs were bad. He decided not to wait any longer.
“Michel, I need to know…”
Michel turned round and Rob knew. The eyes were filled with tears and he crumpled as Rob took him in his arms.
“Oh Rob…he’s…he’s gone. We still can’t believe it you know but we…we know it’s true ‘cos they found his belt buckle… that one he brought back from Vancouver, the one with the wolf’s head you know?”
Rob felt the lead weight crash through his heart and into the pit of his stomach. Of course he knew, he’d helped Arend pick it out. It was true then! His worst fears had been confirmed; his best friend was dead.
He helped Michel into the kitchen and sat him down at the table. Taking a chair, he sat on the other side and waited for the boy’s gut wrenching sobs to subside. Out of his jeans pocket, he pulled out a mangled object and laid it on the table. The fire had twisted the wolf’s features into a sort of sick grimace but it was undoubtedly Arend’s belt buckle.
“Are you going to stay here then? You’re very welcome. Actually, I wouldn’t mind at all. I’m on my own at the moment. Huub is in Utrecht with his girlfriend Sjoukje and my friend Henk lost his best friend in the fire and couldn’t cope with all my grief as well as his own anymore. He’s gone back to his family in Maastricht and I don’t know if he’ll be back.”
Rob thought about it and came to the conclusion that he actually didn’t want to do that. There was just too much to take in at the moment and he preferred to do that on his own but then again, looking at Michel’s hang dog expression and the state of the house, he felt obligated. Arend would have been shocked to see Michel at the moment and he felt that the least he could do was try to give his brother back a little stability in his life.
“Okay Michel, listen. I’m booked in the hotel and will go there this evening if you don’t mind? I’m absolutely knackered at the moment and wouldn’t be very good company this evening anyway. If I go back now and clean up and then go to bed, I should be okay. Tomorrow, I’ll bring my stuff here and stay a few days if that’s okay by you?”
“That would be great Rob; actually it would be more than great. I think you’ve arrived at exactly the right time. I think I was on the point of caving in.
I didn’t exactly tell the whole story before. Huub and I had a terrible row at the funeral service. Actually, it wasn’t a real funeral ‘cos there was nothing to bury. You know they told us that apart from the belt thing, there wasn’t anything left! This is Arend you know! Nothing left; how can there be nothing left! I got hysterical; I couldn’t handle it. I kept demanding his ashes. It’s logical though. No ashes and yet a whole heap of ashes and my stupid brother wanted a cremation; it was in his insurance papers! Ironic don’t you think? Well, he got his cremation alright! What the fuck did he have to go there for anyway? Why him and why then? For Christ’s sake, that shithead Dennis has got a lot to answer for and Freek for that matter! If those bastards hadn’t broken his heart he’d still be alive today and making my life a misery. I loved him so much you know; he was my idol; still is! I miss him Rob; I can’t tell you how much. I want him back.”
Once again, Rob gathered him into his arms and squeezed until the panic began to ease off. The lump in his throat was almost unbearable. Michel was expressing emotions Rob hadn’t got to yet and he wasn’t ready but he couldn’t leave him just now; not in this state.
Without any embarrassment, he began to stroke the boy’s hair, cradle his head and rock gently from side to side. It was just as if he had a baby in his arms and it was completely understood that this was necessary for both men.
“You know Michel,” he murmured, “You can’t blame other people for this. If someone goes out for a beer and is knocked over by a tram, you can hardly blame Freddy Heineken can you? God that’s a stupid analogy; what I mean to say is, Arend went out that night of his own free will and was unlucky enough to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Shit happens you know. It’s fucking terrible but it’s a fact. It’s all platitudes I know. There’s nothing I can say to make it any better or to bring Arend back but there are other ways of channelling your anger. Laying the blame on individuals like Dennis or Freek is unfair. They must be feeling pretty shitty too.”
“They don’t know! I didn’t tell them. I wouldn’t tell them. I told them both to fuck off when they rang but first I told them that Arend was fine and didn’t want anything to do with them. Yeah, it sounds really bad now I know but I don’t care, I couldn’t help it; I just saw red.”
Rob wasn’t sure from the miserable and dejected expression on his face that he regretted his actions at all. ‘He’s more screwed up than I thought,’ he mused.
“What happened with Huub then? It seems such a shame if two brothers fall out with each other over such a tragedy. This is just the time you need each other most eh!
No wait, don’t tell me yet; have you eaten today? I thought not; come on, show me where the best Chinese in the neighbourhood is and I’ll treat you. I could do with a good meal too and by the looks of you, you need feeding up.”
Michel didn’t offer any resistance and the two unlikely companions shuffled off down the street; the one crippled by tiredness and the other crippled by his emotions.
It had to be suggested tactfully;
“Have you been to the doctor Michel?”
“Why should I? I’m not sick.”
Michel’s body language radiated defensiveness.
“I’m not saying you’re sick, not in the normal way at least but do you honestly think, if you examine yourself at the moment, that you’re acting as you normally would?”
Rob tried to smile but the truth was he was extremely uncomfortable. He’d spent a few hours with him now and was on the edge of his seat waiting for the next outburst. The unpredictability was unnerving. At first he’d put it down to his own tiredness and inability to think clearly but after the argument in the Chinese take away, when he’d wanted a hole to open up to disappear into and then the screaming at the TV; apparently over an item in the News, he began to get really worried. Michel’s explanation of the bust-up with his brother and his girlfriend more or less confirmed his suspicions. Michel was having a breakdown and a fairly serious one at that.
“I’m fine. How would you be if your brother had just been burned to a crisp in a darkroom! Sex wasn’t meant to kill you! I wish people would stop asking stupid questions about my state of health. It hardly compares does it? I just need some time that’s all. I just need to be left alone and I’ll be fine.”
“Yeah but…”
“Yeah but…nothing! As I told that stupid bitch from Victim Support, I don’t need someone else telling me what to think and how to feel. So, if you’re thinking of trying that Rob, think again and don’t waste your time. I’m fine.”
It was getting late and they were sitting in the living room with no lights on. Rob didn’t think it was his place to put them on. The paper and containers from the Chinese meal were still lying on the table and floor and Michel showed no sign of wanting to clear up. It was as if he just didn’t notice things like that any more. He hadn’t offered Rob a coffee or a drink; it just hadn’t entered his mind. Rob instinctively wanted to take over and sort the whole place out. He wanted to empty the ash trays, wash the dishes, hoover around and generally restore a bit of normality to the house but it wasn’t really his place and tonight he was fading fast from the tiredness. He decided to make a move; tomorrow was another day; he’d feel fresher and maybe better able to deal with things. He got up and stretched.
“What are you doing? You’re not going are you? I thought you said you’d stay; I need you to stay! I don’t want to be alone tonight.”
‘And you think you’re perfectly healthy!’ thought Rob wryly but he’d made his mind up; he was no good to anybody feeling the way he was feeling now.
“No I said I’d come back tomorrow. I’m really tired Michel, I need a shower, I need a change of clothes and most of all I need to sleep. I think it’s best if I go back to the hotel now.”
Michel took a more aggressive tone but his words were conciliatory.
“You can do all that here can’t you? We have plenty of clothes here; Arend has a wardrobe full and I know the bathroom’s not so clean but I’m sure you can shower okay.”
Rob shuddered at the idea of wearing Arend’s clothes but he was almost persuaded until Michel’s next suggestion rocked him back on his heels.
“And after that, you can sleep with me and cuddle me to sleep, or more if you want; I’d enjoy that, it would make me feel safe. Or I could cuddle you and play with you if you’re so tired; it would be really good to lie next to a naked man again; it seems years since the last time.” He reached over and stroked Rob’s leg.
Every alarm bell rang in his head. He jerked back more dramatically than he had meant to and then forced himself to be tactful. This was just getting too weird.
“No! I mean no thanks Michel; it’s a nice idea but I really need to be undisturbed tonight, I only got into Amsterdam a few hours ago you know, I’ve hardly acclimatized yet. I’ll come back tomorrow morning I promise.”
Whatever Michel’s state of mind, he recognised whether he was being rejected or not and he reacted angrily.
“Don’t bother! I don’t need your help. I don’t know what you’re doing here anyway. You’re another one who abandoned Arjan. You deserted him and pissed off to Canada; no wonder he had to resort to sex with strangers; no wonder he’s dead! Fuck off, go on, get out!”
Rob took his jacket and walked slowly towards the door without saying anything else. He wasn’t going to show that Michel had got to him and wasn’t going to hurry. If he was being thrown out he’d do it with dignity. It also gave him a few extra seconds to think and in the hallway, he grabbed Arend’s address and telephone book from the table and stuffed it in his pocket before opening the door and easing his way out. Taking a second to breathe again, he couldn’t think of anything else but crashing onto a bed and sleeping. As luck would have it, an empty taxi came along the street and he was able to hail it. It was only after he had closed the door to his hotel room and sat on the edge of the bed that he could cry and he cried like he felt he’d never done before.
It was almost two o’clock the next afternoon before he woke, still in his clothes and still unwashed. He stared blankly at the ceiling in that way that you do when you’re not quite sure where you are and what time it is. It soon came back though and he reached in his pocket for the list of addresses. There was one thing he had to do before anything else. He dialled the Utrecht number and waited.
“Hello, Sjoukje here.”
“Ah hello, I’m looking for Huub Peters; is he around?”
“Yes, he’s upstairs, I’ll just get him. Who’s speaking please?”
“Just tell him it’s Rob from Vancouver; I think he’ll know from that.”
It took fully twenty minutes before Rob could convince Huub to meet him in Amsterdam.
“You can’t help someone who refuses to be helped Rob. God knows we’ve tried but when he threatened Sjouk with a knife and cut her cheek, we couldn’t take it anymore; we had to get out of there. You’ve no idea how much trouble it’s caused. We can’t sort out the will or anything until Michel accepts the situation.”
“Yes but he’s your brother, you can’t just abandon him can you? I mean, hasn’t there been enough tragedy in the family?”
There was a long pause on the other end of the line and Rob realised that he may have gone too far. This could have the opposite effect to what he’d hoped.
“I’ll take it that you don’t mean to lecture me about our family affairs Rob! I assume you have the best intentions at heart?”
“Listen Huub, all I know is that Arend doted on you two. He worried about you and wanted the very best for you both and felt responsible for your welfare. God knows you gave him enough stress between the two of you but you were so important in his life. He’d be broken-hearted if he saw what was happening now. I’m not just talking out of my arse here. I’ve got all his letters here and I can prove to you that I’m telling the truth.”
He was getting desperate. He really didn’t want to have to deal with Michel on his own.
“No, you’re right, you’re quite right. It’s been so hard on all of us; I’m sure you can appreciate that but you’re right, I’ve handled it really badly. I was planning on coming back soon anyway; I just needed some time to get my thoughts together and to make sure Sjoukje was okay but from what you say, it sounds as if things have deteriorated. God, poor Michel, he’s taken it much worse than any of us. Okay, I’ll meet you this evening in the Hotel Americain if you like. Say seven thirty? Hey thanks Rob, I really appreciate this. It’s a real shame that you have come all the way from Canada to be faced with this though; it’s not exactly a holiday.”
“It was never meant to be a holiday Huub. I knew about the fire of course and I hadn’t heard from Arend and however scatterbrained he was with other things, he was regular as clockwork with his letters. You’ll have to read those letters; I think you’ll learn a lot more about your older brother. No, I had to come; after all, he was my best friend all those years. See you at seven thirty then but first I’ll go round and see how Michel is today.”
It had been a fruitless journey. There was no answer and despite shouting through the letterbox and ringing him on the phone several times, there was no way of telling if he was at home or not. He went around the corner and had a coffee in a poky bar and returned about half an hour later but there was still no sign of life. There was nothing left but to wait until he was due to meet Huub. He took the opportunity to wander round the Vondel Park, something he hadn’t done in years. It hadn’t changed of course and was still Amsterdam’s free playground. The usual buzzing mix of people sitting on the grass, or cycling around contained far more immigrants than Rob could remember but that was the only difference. It was still a place to relax, a place to chill out and get some fresh air at the same time. The leaves were beginning to fall and the grass was brown and bare in some parts but it was such a pleasant afternoon, he felt reasonably positive for the first time since arriving. Sitting under a tree with his knees under his chin, he took the opportunity to assess what had happened. He hadn’t actually had the time to absorb the shock of Arend’s death himself. Now, he sat and told himself that his friend was dead; that he had died a terrible death and that he wouldn’t see him again. The sadness was overwhelming and he shook his head until it sank in but then began to chuckle as one memory after another came back. They had done the craziest things together, most of the time without a care in the world and mostly when they were both much younger. It was agonising that he hadn’t had the chance to say goodbye and he longed for just a couple of minutes so that he could tell Arend what he meant to him. There wasn’t much point in that sort of sentimental wishful thinking though; facts were facts and he’d have to deal with them. He suddenly wished his partner Luc was here with him. At that moment, he desperately needed a shoulder to lean on.
Huub turned up as arranged on the dot of seven thirty. He too looked drained and worn down with the stress of the last few weeks. Rob hoped that both young men would quickly bounce back from this; that the wrinkles and bags under the yellowed eyes would respond to the elasticity of youth and return them to their actual ages and to the real world. He knew what sort of burden they were carrying; he’d seen enough tragedy in his own life and he’d shared Arend’s despair when his aids status was confirmed. How ironic that he should be one of the lucky ones to escape the Aids death sentence, rediscover hope again and then succumb in such a cruel twist of fate.
Together the brother and the friend talked about their loss and gave each other the knowing looks that told of understanding and acceptance. Then they talked of the remaining brother, the extent of whose difficulties was only now becoming apparent. Huub agreed that things couldn’t stay the way they were. It was unlikely that Michel would recover on his own and it seemed obvious that only intervention would save him from deteriorating further but they couldn’t really agree what to do next. Rob was all for alerting the authorities; contacting the family doctor at the very least. In his opinion, if Michel refused to be helped then it had to be forced on him; the boy was sliding down a slippery slope. Huub was more circumspect, more protective of his family. He didn’t want to cause trouble for Michel unless it was absolutely necessary. From his viewpoint, outside intervention may be like opening a can of worms and could result in his losing control over what eventually happened to his brother. He hadn’t seen Michel for a while of course and while he believed what Rob told him, he felt he needed to see for himself before taking any drastic action. Eventually, they agreed to go round to the house again. From what Huub knew, Michel hardly ever left the house these days and it was more than likely that he was ignoring knocks on the door but Huub had a key, so that particular hurdle could be overcome.
As they took a short cut through the edge of the park, Huub suddenly stopped.
“You know Rob; I’m scared; I’m really scared. I suspect you may be right and he may be too far gone to be able to think for himself but he’s my brother and I don’t want to see him in some institution or anything like that. I don’t want to see his spirit broken.”
“Now don’t blow this up too much Huub or rush to any hasty conclusions just yet. I may have panicked you a bit by my reaction but I hadn’t seen him for such a long time, plus I was dead tired and I’d just learned of Arend’s death; maybe I overreacted; maybe he’s not as bad as I thought. In any case, I think all he needs is a doctor, maybe even a psychiatrist, who’ll keep an eye on him and give him some anti-depressants or something like that. He needs someone to guide him through the grieving process. I don’t think he truly believes Arend’s gone yet.”
“He’s not the only one; I find it really difficult sometimes. If the phone rings, I’m convinced it’ll be Arend whinging on about one thing or another. God, I wish it was. No, I think you’re probably right to be worried about Michel. I think there’s something seriously wrong. I have this theory that he’s taking on all the responsibility because he’s gay too. I’ve got other gay friends in Utrecht and it’s like everybody has taken the fire so personally; as if the gays feel a collective loss and collectively responsible.”
“You may be right. I’ve seen that sort of thing before in the bad years of Aids. We all felt something. Every death was a personal loss but then again, I don’t think it’s necessarily just a gay thing; look at the Jewish collective consciousness that sprang from the Holocaust. I think it’s a human reaction of some sort. Look, here we are.”
Huub ran up the steps as if to burst in and then stopped and knocked on the door.
“Seems only right somehow; I don’t think it’s my house any more.”
As expected, there was no response, so after knocking two or three more times, Huub took his key and carefully opened the door. By the look on his face, Rob could see that Huub hadn’t expected that the stench of cigarettes, alcohol and old food. It seemed even worse than yesterday. They tip-toed quietly along the hall, for no other reason than that the house was so deathly quiet itself.
“Michel…Michel! Are you there? It’s me and Rob.”
Nothing, not a sound.
“Maybe he’s asleep. He was asleep yesterday when I arrived.” Rob was whispering.
“Okay, okay, I’ll go upstairs and check then but surely he’d have heard us by now. I think he’s out somewhere, though I wish he wasn’t; this is difficult enough without the idea of him wandering the streets and getting into arguments with people.”
“I’ll go; you check the kitchen and the garden.”
Rob took the opportunity to go upstairs for the first time since he’d arrived. He desperately needed to go to the toilet, so hurried up the last few steps and headed along the landing towards the glimpse of white tiles he saw at the end. First, he took a quick peak in the main bedroom, where the curtains were still drawn and the bed unmade. Another overflowing ashtray littered the floor and there were dirty coffee cups by the bed but no sign of Michel. He unzipped his pants and stepped into the bathroom.
The flow of vomit was uncontrollable, he couldn’t help it and he felt the urine running down his leg. He had to get control of himself but every time he stood up, the retching began again. He staggered out of the room.
“Huub…Huub! Can you hear me?”
“Yeah, there’s no sign of him downstairs but God what a mess and what a stink. He’s been living like a tramp. I’ve got to get this sorted out.”
“Huub! Never mind that; I think you’d better come upstairs; I’ve found him.”
Huub took the stairs two at a time.
“My God, what’s happened to you? Wait a minute…oh no, oh please God no. Please tell me it’s not…”
“On second thoughts Huub, maybe it’s best if you don’t go in. No, don’t do it…Huub.”
It was too late and Rob felt an enormous surge of guilt but what else could he have done? The last brother had every right didn’t he?
Back in Vancouver, Rob tried to explain to Luc.
“I never, ever want to see that again Luc. I’ll never forget it and I’ll never forgive myself for it even though I know there’s nothing to forgive. There were a thousand alternative endings to that story and I couldn’t come up with one! That boy’s face! All that blood in the water and the smell, above all the smell. It’s as if he’d sprayed the bathroom with aftershave before he did it but it was such a sickly smell, so unexpected you know. God, I could throw up at the thought of it! I don’t know how Huub’s going to live with himself now but at the same time I don’t want to know, I really don’t. I don’t want to speak to him, or hear from him ever again; can you understand that? I never want to go back to Amsterdam, or the Netherlands. I never want to see a dead person again and I swear, if it’s the last thing I do, I’ll campaign until every gay bar in Canada is fireproof!
Rob knocked on the door again and waited. All sorts of memories came flooding back, including staggering back in the early morning from riotous nights out with Arend. That first time that Arend had forgotten his key for instance. He looked up at the tall, sash window he had fallen through, after standing on Arend’s none too steady shoulders and trying to prise it open. He still had the scars on his neck where the glass shards had embedded themselves. Total atheists, they had nevertheless gone to the church of St. Nicolaas the next day to light candles of gratitude that he hadn’t been beheaded. Even now, he blushed at the thought that Arend’s giggling had got them thrown out.
A sudden weariness washed over him in the warmth of the early evening and the closeness of the city atmosphere. He could feel the heat radiating from the house bricks and sat down for a moment on the step. He was exhausted from the delays, having been almost twenty four hours on the go. He was still on Vancouver time and jet-lag had set in early. All he really wanted to do was sleep but the need to find out about Arend was paramount so his bags had been hastily deposited in his hotel room and without showering he’d headed straight here.
He had a very bad feeling about it all. Hoping against hope that Arend would open the door and tell him off for being a lazy cow; at the same time he didn’t really expect it. He’d rung several times of course but there’d been no answer and now he realised the foolishness of just turning up. If nobody was home he’d have to go back to the hotel. Suddenly that seemed a very attractive proposition.
He was just about to knock for the third and last time when the door opened. It was Michel, Arend’s younger gay brother. After a moment of puzzled incomprehension, he recognised his visitor.
“Hey, Rob; what a surprise! You’re the last person I expected to see this afternoon. Sorry for the delay mate but I was just having an hour on the bed. I thought you lived in Vancouver. Come in why don’t you? It’s a bit of a mess I’m afraid…”
Rob looked closely at the young man. There was no laughter in his eyes the way they used to be. They were lifeless and surrounded by lines and deep, grey bags. His skin was sallow and spotty and the hair was lank and greasy. This was not the Michel he remembered, or even the Michel from Arend’s letters; this was a young man grown old.
He followed him inside and reeled from the stink of stale smoke and old beer. His heart sank. All the signs were bad. He decided not to wait any longer.
“Michel, I need to know…”
Michel turned round and Rob knew. The eyes were filled with tears and he crumpled as Rob took him in his arms.
“Oh Rob…he’s…he’s gone. We still can’t believe it you know but we…we know it’s true ‘cos they found his belt buckle… that one he brought back from Vancouver, the one with the wolf’s head you know?”
Rob felt the lead weight crash through his heart and into the pit of his stomach. Of course he knew, he’d helped Arend pick it out. It was true then! His worst fears had been confirmed; his best friend was dead.
He helped Michel into the kitchen and sat him down at the table. Taking a chair, he sat on the other side and waited for the boy’s gut wrenching sobs to subside. Out of his jeans pocket, he pulled out a mangled object and laid it on the table. The fire had twisted the wolf’s features into a sort of sick grimace but it was undoubtedly Arend’s belt buckle.
“Are you going to stay here then? You’re very welcome. Actually, I wouldn’t mind at all. I’m on my own at the moment. Huub is in Utrecht with his girlfriend Sjoukje and my friend Henk lost his best friend in the fire and couldn’t cope with all my grief as well as his own anymore. He’s gone back to his family in Maastricht and I don’t know if he’ll be back.”
Rob thought about it and came to the conclusion that he actually didn’t want to do that. There was just too much to take in at the moment and he preferred to do that on his own but then again, looking at Michel’s hang dog expression and the state of the house, he felt obligated. Arend would have been shocked to see Michel at the moment and he felt that the least he could do was try to give his brother back a little stability in his life.
“Okay Michel, listen. I’m booked in the hotel and will go there this evening if you don’t mind? I’m absolutely knackered at the moment and wouldn’t be very good company this evening anyway. If I go back now and clean up and then go to bed, I should be okay. Tomorrow, I’ll bring my stuff here and stay a few days if that’s okay by you?”
“That would be great Rob; actually it would be more than great. I think you’ve arrived at exactly the right time. I think I was on the point of caving in.
I didn’t exactly tell the whole story before. Huub and I had a terrible row at the funeral service. Actually, it wasn’t a real funeral ‘cos there was nothing to bury. You know they told us that apart from the belt thing, there wasn’t anything left! This is Arend you know! Nothing left; how can there be nothing left! I got hysterical; I couldn’t handle it. I kept demanding his ashes. It’s logical though. No ashes and yet a whole heap of ashes and my stupid brother wanted a cremation; it was in his insurance papers! Ironic don’t you think? Well, he got his cremation alright! What the fuck did he have to go there for anyway? Why him and why then? For Christ’s sake, that shithead Dennis has got a lot to answer for and Freek for that matter! If those bastards hadn’t broken his heart he’d still be alive today and making my life a misery. I loved him so much you know; he was my idol; still is! I miss him Rob; I can’t tell you how much. I want him back.”
Once again, Rob gathered him into his arms and squeezed until the panic began to ease off. The lump in his throat was almost unbearable. Michel was expressing emotions Rob hadn’t got to yet and he wasn’t ready but he couldn’t leave him just now; not in this state.
Without any embarrassment, he began to stroke the boy’s hair, cradle his head and rock gently from side to side. It was just as if he had a baby in his arms and it was completely understood that this was necessary for both men.
“You know Michel,” he murmured, “You can’t blame other people for this. If someone goes out for a beer and is knocked over by a tram, you can hardly blame Freddy Heineken can you? God that’s a stupid analogy; what I mean to say is, Arend went out that night of his own free will and was unlucky enough to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Shit happens you know. It’s fucking terrible but it’s a fact. It’s all platitudes I know. There’s nothing I can say to make it any better or to bring Arend back but there are other ways of channelling your anger. Laying the blame on individuals like Dennis or Freek is unfair. They must be feeling pretty shitty too.”
“They don’t know! I didn’t tell them. I wouldn’t tell them. I told them both to fuck off when they rang but first I told them that Arend was fine and didn’t want anything to do with them. Yeah, it sounds really bad now I know but I don’t care, I couldn’t help it; I just saw red.”
Rob wasn’t sure from the miserable and dejected expression on his face that he regretted his actions at all. ‘He’s more screwed up than I thought,’ he mused.
“What happened with Huub then? It seems such a shame if two brothers fall out with each other over such a tragedy. This is just the time you need each other most eh!
No wait, don’t tell me yet; have you eaten today? I thought not; come on, show me where the best Chinese in the neighbourhood is and I’ll treat you. I could do with a good meal too and by the looks of you, you need feeding up.”
Michel didn’t offer any resistance and the two unlikely companions shuffled off down the street; the one crippled by tiredness and the other crippled by his emotions.
It had to be suggested tactfully;
“Have you been to the doctor Michel?”
“Why should I? I’m not sick.”
Michel’s body language radiated defensiveness.
“I’m not saying you’re sick, not in the normal way at least but do you honestly think, if you examine yourself at the moment, that you’re acting as you normally would?”
Rob tried to smile but the truth was he was extremely uncomfortable. He’d spent a few hours with him now and was on the edge of his seat waiting for the next outburst. The unpredictability was unnerving. At first he’d put it down to his own tiredness and inability to think clearly but after the argument in the Chinese take away, when he’d wanted a hole to open up to disappear into and then the screaming at the TV; apparently over an item in the News, he began to get really worried. Michel’s explanation of the bust-up with his brother and his girlfriend more or less confirmed his suspicions. Michel was having a breakdown and a fairly serious one at that.
“I’m fine. How would you be if your brother had just been burned to a crisp in a darkroom! Sex wasn’t meant to kill you! I wish people would stop asking stupid questions about my state of health. It hardly compares does it? I just need some time that’s all. I just need to be left alone and I’ll be fine.”
“Yeah but…”
“Yeah but…nothing! As I told that stupid bitch from Victim Support, I don’t need someone else telling me what to think and how to feel. So, if you’re thinking of trying that Rob, think again and don’t waste your time. I’m fine.”
It was getting late and they were sitting in the living room with no lights on. Rob didn’t think it was his place to put them on. The paper and containers from the Chinese meal were still lying on the table and floor and Michel showed no sign of wanting to clear up. It was as if he just didn’t notice things like that any more. He hadn’t offered Rob a coffee or a drink; it just hadn’t entered his mind. Rob instinctively wanted to take over and sort the whole place out. He wanted to empty the ash trays, wash the dishes, hoover around and generally restore a bit of normality to the house but it wasn’t really his place and tonight he was fading fast from the tiredness. He decided to make a move; tomorrow was another day; he’d feel fresher and maybe better able to deal with things. He got up and stretched.
“What are you doing? You’re not going are you? I thought you said you’d stay; I need you to stay! I don’t want to be alone tonight.”
‘And you think you’re perfectly healthy!’ thought Rob wryly but he’d made his mind up; he was no good to anybody feeling the way he was feeling now.
“No I said I’d come back tomorrow. I’m really tired Michel, I need a shower, I need a change of clothes and most of all I need to sleep. I think it’s best if I go back to the hotel now.”
Michel took a more aggressive tone but his words were conciliatory.
“You can do all that here can’t you? We have plenty of clothes here; Arend has a wardrobe full and I know the bathroom’s not so clean but I’m sure you can shower okay.”
Rob shuddered at the idea of wearing Arend’s clothes but he was almost persuaded until Michel’s next suggestion rocked him back on his heels.
“And after that, you can sleep with me and cuddle me to sleep, or more if you want; I’d enjoy that, it would make me feel safe. Or I could cuddle you and play with you if you’re so tired; it would be really good to lie next to a naked man again; it seems years since the last time.” He reached over and stroked Rob’s leg.
Every alarm bell rang in his head. He jerked back more dramatically than he had meant to and then forced himself to be tactful. This was just getting too weird.
“No! I mean no thanks Michel; it’s a nice idea but I really need to be undisturbed tonight, I only got into Amsterdam a few hours ago you know, I’ve hardly acclimatized yet. I’ll come back tomorrow morning I promise.”
Whatever Michel’s state of mind, he recognised whether he was being rejected or not and he reacted angrily.
“Don’t bother! I don’t need your help. I don’t know what you’re doing here anyway. You’re another one who abandoned Arjan. You deserted him and pissed off to Canada; no wonder he had to resort to sex with strangers; no wonder he’s dead! Fuck off, go on, get out!”
Rob took his jacket and walked slowly towards the door without saying anything else. He wasn’t going to show that Michel had got to him and wasn’t going to hurry. If he was being thrown out he’d do it with dignity. It also gave him a few extra seconds to think and in the hallway, he grabbed Arend’s address and telephone book from the table and stuffed it in his pocket before opening the door and easing his way out. Taking a second to breathe again, he couldn’t think of anything else but crashing onto a bed and sleeping. As luck would have it, an empty taxi came along the street and he was able to hail it. It was only after he had closed the door to his hotel room and sat on the edge of the bed that he could cry and he cried like he felt he’d never done before.
It was almost two o’clock the next afternoon before he woke, still in his clothes and still unwashed. He stared blankly at the ceiling in that way that you do when you’re not quite sure where you are and what time it is. It soon came back though and he reached in his pocket for the list of addresses. There was one thing he had to do before anything else. He dialled the Utrecht number and waited.
“Hello, Sjoukje here.”
“Ah hello, I’m looking for Huub Peters; is he around?”
“Yes, he’s upstairs, I’ll just get him. Who’s speaking please?”
“Just tell him it’s Rob from Vancouver; I think he’ll know from that.”
It took fully twenty minutes before Rob could convince Huub to meet him in Amsterdam.
“You can’t help someone who refuses to be helped Rob. God knows we’ve tried but when he threatened Sjouk with a knife and cut her cheek, we couldn’t take it anymore; we had to get out of there. You’ve no idea how much trouble it’s caused. We can’t sort out the will or anything until Michel accepts the situation.”
“Yes but he’s your brother, you can’t just abandon him can you? I mean, hasn’t there been enough tragedy in the family?”
There was a long pause on the other end of the line and Rob realised that he may have gone too far. This could have the opposite effect to what he’d hoped.
“I’ll take it that you don’t mean to lecture me about our family affairs Rob! I assume you have the best intentions at heart?”
“Listen Huub, all I know is that Arend doted on you two. He worried about you and wanted the very best for you both and felt responsible for your welfare. God knows you gave him enough stress between the two of you but you were so important in his life. He’d be broken-hearted if he saw what was happening now. I’m not just talking out of my arse here. I’ve got all his letters here and I can prove to you that I’m telling the truth.”
He was getting desperate. He really didn’t want to have to deal with Michel on his own.
“No, you’re right, you’re quite right. It’s been so hard on all of us; I’m sure you can appreciate that but you’re right, I’ve handled it really badly. I was planning on coming back soon anyway; I just needed some time to get my thoughts together and to make sure Sjoukje was okay but from what you say, it sounds as if things have deteriorated. God, poor Michel, he’s taken it much worse than any of us. Okay, I’ll meet you this evening in the Hotel Americain if you like. Say seven thirty? Hey thanks Rob, I really appreciate this. It’s a real shame that you have come all the way from Canada to be faced with this though; it’s not exactly a holiday.”
“It was never meant to be a holiday Huub. I knew about the fire of course and I hadn’t heard from Arend and however scatterbrained he was with other things, he was regular as clockwork with his letters. You’ll have to read those letters; I think you’ll learn a lot more about your older brother. No, I had to come; after all, he was my best friend all those years. See you at seven thirty then but first I’ll go round and see how Michel is today.”
It had been a fruitless journey. There was no answer and despite shouting through the letterbox and ringing him on the phone several times, there was no way of telling if he was at home or not. He went around the corner and had a coffee in a poky bar and returned about half an hour later but there was still no sign of life. There was nothing left but to wait until he was due to meet Huub. He took the opportunity to wander round the Vondel Park, something he hadn’t done in years. It hadn’t changed of course and was still Amsterdam’s free playground. The usual buzzing mix of people sitting on the grass, or cycling around contained far more immigrants than Rob could remember but that was the only difference. It was still a place to relax, a place to chill out and get some fresh air at the same time. The leaves were beginning to fall and the grass was brown and bare in some parts but it was such a pleasant afternoon, he felt reasonably positive for the first time since arriving. Sitting under a tree with his knees under his chin, he took the opportunity to assess what had happened. He hadn’t actually had the time to absorb the shock of Arend’s death himself. Now, he sat and told himself that his friend was dead; that he had died a terrible death and that he wouldn’t see him again. The sadness was overwhelming and he shook his head until it sank in but then began to chuckle as one memory after another came back. They had done the craziest things together, most of the time without a care in the world and mostly when they were both much younger. It was agonising that he hadn’t had the chance to say goodbye and he longed for just a couple of minutes so that he could tell Arend what he meant to him. There wasn’t much point in that sort of sentimental wishful thinking though; facts were facts and he’d have to deal with them. He suddenly wished his partner Luc was here with him. At that moment, he desperately needed a shoulder to lean on.
Huub turned up as arranged on the dot of seven thirty. He too looked drained and worn down with the stress of the last few weeks. Rob hoped that both young men would quickly bounce back from this; that the wrinkles and bags under the yellowed eyes would respond to the elasticity of youth and return them to their actual ages and to the real world. He knew what sort of burden they were carrying; he’d seen enough tragedy in his own life and he’d shared Arend’s despair when his aids status was confirmed. How ironic that he should be one of the lucky ones to escape the Aids death sentence, rediscover hope again and then succumb in such a cruel twist of fate.
Together the brother and the friend talked about their loss and gave each other the knowing looks that told of understanding and acceptance. Then they talked of the remaining brother, the extent of whose difficulties was only now becoming apparent. Huub agreed that things couldn’t stay the way they were. It was unlikely that Michel would recover on his own and it seemed obvious that only intervention would save him from deteriorating further but they couldn’t really agree what to do next. Rob was all for alerting the authorities; contacting the family doctor at the very least. In his opinion, if Michel refused to be helped then it had to be forced on him; the boy was sliding down a slippery slope. Huub was more circumspect, more protective of his family. He didn’t want to cause trouble for Michel unless it was absolutely necessary. From his viewpoint, outside intervention may be like opening a can of worms and could result in his losing control over what eventually happened to his brother. He hadn’t seen Michel for a while of course and while he believed what Rob told him, he felt he needed to see for himself before taking any drastic action. Eventually, they agreed to go round to the house again. From what Huub knew, Michel hardly ever left the house these days and it was more than likely that he was ignoring knocks on the door but Huub had a key, so that particular hurdle could be overcome.
As they took a short cut through the edge of the park, Huub suddenly stopped.
“You know Rob; I’m scared; I’m really scared. I suspect you may be right and he may be too far gone to be able to think for himself but he’s my brother and I don’t want to see him in some institution or anything like that. I don’t want to see his spirit broken.”
“Now don’t blow this up too much Huub or rush to any hasty conclusions just yet. I may have panicked you a bit by my reaction but I hadn’t seen him for such a long time, plus I was dead tired and I’d just learned of Arend’s death; maybe I overreacted; maybe he’s not as bad as I thought. In any case, I think all he needs is a doctor, maybe even a psychiatrist, who’ll keep an eye on him and give him some anti-depressants or something like that. He needs someone to guide him through the grieving process. I don’t think he truly believes Arend’s gone yet.”
“He’s not the only one; I find it really difficult sometimes. If the phone rings, I’m convinced it’ll be Arend whinging on about one thing or another. God, I wish it was. No, I think you’re probably right to be worried about Michel. I think there’s something seriously wrong. I have this theory that he’s taking on all the responsibility because he’s gay too. I’ve got other gay friends in Utrecht and it’s like everybody has taken the fire so personally; as if the gays feel a collective loss and collectively responsible.”
“You may be right. I’ve seen that sort of thing before in the bad years of Aids. We all felt something. Every death was a personal loss but then again, I don’t think it’s necessarily just a gay thing; look at the Jewish collective consciousness that sprang from the Holocaust. I think it’s a human reaction of some sort. Look, here we are.”
Huub ran up the steps as if to burst in and then stopped and knocked on the door.
“Seems only right somehow; I don’t think it’s my house any more.”
As expected, there was no response, so after knocking two or three more times, Huub took his key and carefully opened the door. By the look on his face, Rob could see that Huub hadn’t expected that the stench of cigarettes, alcohol and old food. It seemed even worse than yesterday. They tip-toed quietly along the hall, for no other reason than that the house was so deathly quiet itself.
“Michel…Michel! Are you there? It’s me and Rob.”
Nothing, not a sound.
“Maybe he’s asleep. He was asleep yesterday when I arrived.” Rob was whispering.
“Okay, okay, I’ll go upstairs and check then but surely he’d have heard us by now. I think he’s out somewhere, though I wish he wasn’t; this is difficult enough without the idea of him wandering the streets and getting into arguments with people.”
“I’ll go; you check the kitchen and the garden.”
Rob took the opportunity to go upstairs for the first time since he’d arrived. He desperately needed to go to the toilet, so hurried up the last few steps and headed along the landing towards the glimpse of white tiles he saw at the end. First, he took a quick peak in the main bedroom, where the curtains were still drawn and the bed unmade. Another overflowing ashtray littered the floor and there were dirty coffee cups by the bed but no sign of Michel. He unzipped his pants and stepped into the bathroom.
The flow of vomit was uncontrollable, he couldn’t help it and he felt the urine running down his leg. He had to get control of himself but every time he stood up, the retching began again. He staggered out of the room.
“Huub…Huub! Can you hear me?”
“Yeah, there’s no sign of him downstairs but God what a mess and what a stink. He’s been living like a tramp. I’ve got to get this sorted out.”
“Huub! Never mind that; I think you’d better come upstairs; I’ve found him.”
Huub took the stairs two at a time.
“My God, what’s happened to you? Wait a minute…oh no, oh please God no. Please tell me it’s not…”
“On second thoughts Huub, maybe it’s best if you don’t go in. No, don’t do it…Huub.”
It was too late and Rob felt an enormous surge of guilt but what else could he have done? The last brother had every right didn’t he?
Back in Vancouver, Rob tried to explain to Luc.
“I never, ever want to see that again Luc. I’ll never forget it and I’ll never forgive myself for it even though I know there’s nothing to forgive. There were a thousand alternative endings to that story and I couldn’t come up with one! That boy’s face! All that blood in the water and the smell, above all the smell. It’s as if he’d sprayed the bathroom with aftershave before he did it but it was such a sickly smell, so unexpected you know. God, I could throw up at the thought of it! I don’t know how Huub’s going to live with himself now but at the same time I don’t want to know, I really don’t. I don’t want to speak to him, or hear from him ever again; can you understand that? I never want to go back to Amsterdam, or the Netherlands. I never want to see a dead person again and I swear, if it’s the last thing I do, I’ll campaign until every gay bar in Canada is fireproof!
48. Will and Ruud take the reins
With the hairs on the back of his neck prickling in anticipation, Ton Bak motioned them into the room and ambled over to his high-backed, leather armchair, where he thought he would feel most secure. He’d been expecting this visit and hoped that it would be over quickly.
Wil, Ruud and Jan Theunissen sat opposite him in a row. ‘Three wise monkeys’ passed through his mind although it was pretty obvious from their expressions that these monkeys were pretty pissed off. Wil leaned forward and shook his finger in the hospital administrator’s face.
“How could you Ton? Can you imagine what sort of hornet’s nest you’ve stirred up; not to mention what sort of fools it’s made us look?”
“Especially me..!” Jan Theunissen shook his head in disbelief. “My credibility is nil at the moment and for the foreseeable future. So much for my thinking of myself as some sort of spokesman for the gay community. My fucking reputation as a straight talker is ruined; nobody will take me seriously now.”
Ruud, as ever took the more diplomatic route.
“Now Jan, don’t exaggerate, the media will forget this tomorrow; you know what they’re like. Once the full story comes out, everyone will understand. Once Ton here goes public and tells his story, you’ll be in the clear. I still don’t understand why you told us those things though Ton. You don’t say something like that unless you’re sure of your facts.”
“I was sure of my facts, or at least I thought I was. I had two corpses in the hospital morgue, both without identification. Naturally I was informed and I contacted the police for the latest ‘missing’ lists. It was then that I got the phone call saying...”
“Wait a minute…” Wil butted in, “…let me get this straight; the bodies were already at your place? So where did the story come from that they were found in some sort of grotesque embrace?”
Ton snorted in that way of his that he knew was bound to irritate Wil; a sort of irritated, impatient, ‘shut-up-and-don’t-interrupt-me’ hiss.
“If you’ll let me finish! Do you think you can manage that?”
“Oh sorry for breathing, Mr Administrator sir but I’m not the one in the wrong here, you are!”
“Oh Wil, do shut up and let the man finish!”
Ruud’s tone allowed for no response. Ton nodded at him, cracked his knuckles in another annoying mannerism and continued.
“As I said, within half an hour, I got a phone call purporting to be from the Ministry of Internal Affairs. My request had been re-routed and I was told that the information was strictly top-secret and under no circumstances to be leaked to the press or anybody else for that matter.”
“And that person told you that the bodies were of the Prince and Boersen’s son?”
“Yes and I had no reason not to believe it.”
Wil couldn’t resist another interruption.
“Except for the fact that this was a complete stranger, with no form of identification on the end of a phone! This is Amsterdam, or haven’t you noticed Ton? The place is swarming with loonies!”
“That’s easy to say, with hindsight. It was a very confusing time. I’d had several warnings from top police officials about releasing information to the media and this seemed very credible given the secrecy that surrounded practically everything. To my mind, it offered a logical reason why everything was so cloak and dagger.”
Jan Theunissen leaned forward so that his face came close to the beleaguered civil servant and Ton shrank back in his chair, visibly intimidated.
“Okay, let’s look at the facts then. You got this news and naively or not, believed it to be correct, then Wil and Ruud put the pressure on for information specifically about their young friend and for some reason you dropped that bombshell. They then quite rightly told me, because such information if it were true, has a right to be in the public domain, despite what the palace might think. Then of course, on national TV, I told the world. Except of course, it wasn’t true was it Mr. Bak and we only have your word for it that it was passed on to you? The supposedly dead and homosexual Prince and the equally non-gay, parliamentary offspring made very public appearances to confirm that they were alive. The shit hits the fan and everybody’s left with egg on their faces. The problem is; it doesn’t ring true. Why would someone feed you disinformation? What would they have to gain? It’s true what Wil says; for a major world city, Amsterdam has more than its fair share of village idiots but this is a bit far fetched even for your resident jokers. Maybe you can give us your theories as to why this happened? I’d be interested to hear them.”
Wil turned around, a look of incredulity on his face.
“Now wait a minute Jan; Ton has many faults but I think I know him. What are you suggesting here; that he made it all up? As you yourself say, where is the gain in something like that?”
Ruud laid his hand on his friend’s arm and staring Ton Bak directly in the eyes spoke quietly.
“Hold on Wil. Maybe you don’t know Ton as well as you think. I’m quite prepared to believe that the wool was pulled over our eyes as well and that we were gullible idiots. I’d like to hear what Ton says too. It seems pretty convenient that so-called top-secret information was passed on to us, even though we hadn’t asked for it. We were asked to keep our mouths shut but you can’t tell me that Ton didn’t know that it almost certainly would go further. You may think you know him but I’m beginning to suspect that he knows you far better!”
Wil looked like a goldfish surprised to find himself flapping about outside his bowl. He looked at Ruud, then at Jan Theunissen, who nodded sagely and then at Ton Bak, who clearly wished a hole would open up and swallow him whole.
“No! Yes, I mean…no! Fucking hell Ton, will you stop at nothing to get revenge on me?”
“Don’t flatter yourself Wil van Rossum.”
Ton sneered and in an instant, decided to brazen it out.
“What makes you think I would waste my energy on getting one over on someone as insignificant as you? I’ve got better things to do with my time!
“So it was all nonsense?”
Ruud’s question was quietly asked but couldn’t disguise his rising anger.
“But why? For fuck’s sake why? I don’t get it, what could you possibly gain from saying something so irresponsible?”
Wil wasn’t trying to score points, his reaction was one of incredulity but the accumulating pressure was enough. Ton slumped in his chair, all the fight gone out of him.
“I don’t know. I just don’t know okay! It just came out. When Wil and Ruud were pressing me for information, I didn’t have any; I didn’t even know what was going on in my own hospital. I’d lost control ‘cos we weren’t ready for a disaster on this scale. When the bodies and the injured came in, there were too many for us to cope with; or at least too many in one go and people kept asking me what to do and I didn’t really know. For the first time in my working life, I didn’t know what to do next. The pile of dossiers was growing on my desk and they kept asking me for statistics and who was dead and who was alive and I had no idea and no idea how to get the necessary information. I tried of course. I rang everyone I knew but everyone was up to their eyes in the same shit. I needed police records for identification and I needed…oh Christ, what didn’t I need! And then there were the sharks from the press and the TV; all asking the same questions and all asking why I didn’t know. I got sick of churning out the same old clichés and standard responses and the pressure just kept growing you know! I couldn’t cope with it and I’m not a man who can’t cope! That’s how I got to where I am now; through coping with every piece of shit that landed on my desk but this time, I lost the threads and couldn’t see the big picture and…and…”
“…and via Wil and Ruud, you gave them something to feed on, is that it?”
Jan Theunissen’s tone was more conciliatory now; there was little point in whipping a dead horse.
The hospital administrator hung his head and began almost imperceptibly to sob.
“Yes, I thought if I made the news big enough, all attention would focus on that and they would leave me alone for a while to sort everything out. I needed time you see; time to get my own house in order. I didn’t mean any harm by it; nobody was going to get hurt.”
Wil exploded.
“Nobody was going to get hurt! Why you no-good piece of horse shit! Did it never occur to you that I would be hurt, or rather, we would be hurt? Not to mention the fucking prince who had to face this down! God knows, I’d love to have been a fly on the wall at the palace when that little bombshell dropped! A tiny stone tossed into a pond causes ripples Ton, even you should have known that!”
Wil was quite proud of his analogy until Ruud once more shamed him into spluttering silence.
“What we felt is hardly the point. As far as I’m concerned, it’s embarrassing but not much else and when the truth comes out, as it will Ton, our reputations will be more or less clear. The real crime is that you’ve shown zero respect for those who’ve died, those still lying in hospital beds; or those family and friends who are still suffering. Not once amongst all your excuses have you shown any sympathy or compassion for the victims. You probably call it dispassionate professionalism; I call it extreme selfishness. You’re only interested in saving your own miserable skin and you can stop that pathetic crying now! Those crocodile tears would only be impressive if they were tears for someone else instead of yourself and the mess you’ve got yourself into. You disgust me and if you think that I can be persuaded in any way to keep this quiet, think again. I intend to drag your name through as much mud as I can find.”
Ruud’s voice was sinking lower and becoming quieter with every sentence and Wil recognised the signs; there was no way he was going to interrupt at this point.
“I can’t remember ever being this angry over anything; I want to hit you, I really do but that would mean lowering myself to your level and I don’t want to do that but I’ll take great pleasure in seeing your downfall and I mean that from the bottom of my heart!”
The room was deathly quiet. Wil was surprised but understood his friend’s reaction. He knew that sometimes things affected Ruud so deeply that he was capable of the strongest emotions and deep inside he was proud of him. Ruud possessed a restraint that sometimes drove his partner wild but at the same time was jealous of. Wil reacted instinctively and often irrationally but Ruud was a deep thinker. Wil liked to think that he was emotionally honest but knew that he jumped to the wrong conclusion far too often for that to be true. In truth Ruud was the honest one because he thought things through before he reacted. If he said he was angry, then he was really angry and if he said he wanted to strike someone then only Wil knew the extent of his restraint in not doing so.
Jan Theunissen was also taken aback but not only by Ruud’s straight-talking. The ramifications of Ton Bak’s confession were just beginning to sink in. Jan had to evaluate the effect of individuals’ actions on the gay community as a whole. He had long since realised the power of the ‘ripple effect’ with regard to public opinion. The fire had once again exposed the less palatable side of gay life, to a public who had by and large accepted gay culture as another facet of their own. The enormous wave of public sympathy could evaporate overnight if things weren’t handled carefully. De Tribune and others were doing their best to plant the moral blame firmly into the gays’ own back yard but had had only limited success because most thinking people saw it as right wing reaction. Of course, the details of life in the dark rooms were seen as seedy at best and down right disgusting at worst but the tragedy far outweighed the causes and just as with AIDS, most people were prepared to overlook the details and see the bigger picture. A story like this however, could tip the scales of public opinion away from the gay cause. The stereotypes of gay flightiness and untrustworthiness were bound to be highlighted again. De Tribune had only just published another veiled article accusing homosexuals of recruitment tactics and assuming that all men were gay until proved otherwise. This might just help to prove their point. Therefore, much as he applauded Ruud’s stand from a personal point of view; as editor of the country’s largest gay magazine and generally accepted spokesperson for gay affairs, his first instinct was to secretly hope the whole thing would just fade away. He had once been told by a media boss in Hilversum that he was, ‘the acceptable face of homosexual Holland’ and as such would always be welcome on Dutch TV, so long as, ‘he never blotted his copy book.’ He had been worried that his outburst on Vandenbroek on Friday had done just that! If he now went on national TV to say that the rumours had not only been fantasy but a fantasy created by a gay man, he ran the risk of never being taken seriously again. Then again, he had been critical of sections of the gay community then. If he continued that theme and destroyed Jan Bak by isolating him as a dangerous lunatic, albeit a gay lunatic, would that not be seen as honesty and forthrightness? Couldn’t he manipulate it so that the gay community would be seen as unafraid of self-criticism and thus morally on a level higher than its detractors? Maybe he should let Ruud have his own way and expose the whole sorry episode for what it was but then again, wouldn’t it be better if he had total control over the story instead of someone as anonymous as Ruud?
“I’m with you Ruud. I think it would be best if the whole truth came out. I’m sorry Jan but whatever your motives might have been, they didn’t justify such idiotic and badly thought out lies. To my mind, the best we can say about you is that you’ve been bloody stupid but I agree with Ruud that it’s much worse than that. What you’ve done is an insult to all the victims of this tragedy and as such you don’t deserve any form of protection. Listen Ruud, I’m due to go on TV for an interview tomorrow, do you think it would be a good idea if I brought the story out into the open then?”
He could hear himself and wasn’t proud of his manipulations but he knew that his media skills were needed now if damage limitation was to be achieved, or at least that’s what he sincerely believed.
Later that evening, lying in bed, Ruud gathered a sleepy Wil into his arms and dropped a bombshell of his own.
“Let’s move to Spain.”
“Huh…did you say something? I’m absolutely knackered…can’t keep my eyes open. What did you say?”
“I said… let’s move to Spain.”
“Spain? Did you say… move to Spain? What brought this on? Hold on a minute, I need to be awake here.”
Wil extracted himself from Ruud’s ever-tightening grip and sat up, his eyes half closed and looking every bit of his forty eight years. The last few weeks had taken their toll on both of them but his face was always the first to show the ravages of stress. He stared at Ruud, who was clearly wide awake and deep in thought.
“We don’t need to work any more you know that. We have that money from grandma Thea and we’ve got our savings. If we sell up here, we can buy a villa and set up something there, on the Costas to keep some income coming in; a bed and breakfast or something like that. We always said we would retire to the sun didn’t we? Well why don’t we go early?”
“You never cease to amaze me Ruud de Bruijn but why now? It’s not like you to come up with mad ideas or make impulsive decisions; that’s my department.”
“I’m sick of it all Wil. I’m sick of all this shit about the fire; about Jacco and his parents. I’m sick of the gay scene and the two-faced people who never change. I suddenly feel claustrophobic here. Everything’s changed. It’s as if Amsterdam’s lost its innocence. It used to be such a playground and you know most of the time I love it, with all its faults but now I’ve had enough. I want some fresh air. I want to be able to breathe and to stop struggling against all the shittiness. There’s not enough good things left here to outweigh the bad. Let’s get out while we’re still healthy and relatively sane and before this place goes completely to the dogs.”
“Wow, what a speech! What a surprise! But hold on my friend, I need some time to think about this. Uprooting our whole lives? You don’t just do that on a whim.”
With that, he ignored Ruud’s puzzled expression, turned over and lay on his side.
“Wil?”
There was a moment’s silence.
“Okay… I’ve thought about it and I’m afraid….yeah, sorry but…when do we start packing?”
Ruud thumped him far too hard but it didn’t matter; both men felt as though the world had been lifted from their shoulders.
With the hairs on the back of his neck prickling in anticipation, Ton Bak motioned them into the room and ambled over to his high-backed, leather armchair, where he thought he would feel most secure. He’d been expecting this visit and hoped that it would be over quickly.
Wil, Ruud and Jan Theunissen sat opposite him in a row. ‘Three wise monkeys’ passed through his mind although it was pretty obvious from their expressions that these monkeys were pretty pissed off. Wil leaned forward and shook his finger in the hospital administrator’s face.
“How could you Ton? Can you imagine what sort of hornet’s nest you’ve stirred up; not to mention what sort of fools it’s made us look?”
“Especially me..!” Jan Theunissen shook his head in disbelief. “My credibility is nil at the moment and for the foreseeable future. So much for my thinking of myself as some sort of spokesman for the gay community. My fucking reputation as a straight talker is ruined; nobody will take me seriously now.”
Ruud, as ever took the more diplomatic route.
“Now Jan, don’t exaggerate, the media will forget this tomorrow; you know what they’re like. Once the full story comes out, everyone will understand. Once Ton here goes public and tells his story, you’ll be in the clear. I still don’t understand why you told us those things though Ton. You don’t say something like that unless you’re sure of your facts.”
“I was sure of my facts, or at least I thought I was. I had two corpses in the hospital morgue, both without identification. Naturally I was informed and I contacted the police for the latest ‘missing’ lists. It was then that I got the phone call saying...”
“Wait a minute…” Wil butted in, “…let me get this straight; the bodies were already at your place? So where did the story come from that they were found in some sort of grotesque embrace?”
Ton snorted in that way of his that he knew was bound to irritate Wil; a sort of irritated, impatient, ‘shut-up-and-don’t-interrupt-me’ hiss.
“If you’ll let me finish! Do you think you can manage that?”
“Oh sorry for breathing, Mr Administrator sir but I’m not the one in the wrong here, you are!”
“Oh Wil, do shut up and let the man finish!”
Ruud’s tone allowed for no response. Ton nodded at him, cracked his knuckles in another annoying mannerism and continued.
“As I said, within half an hour, I got a phone call purporting to be from the Ministry of Internal Affairs. My request had been re-routed and I was told that the information was strictly top-secret and under no circumstances to be leaked to the press or anybody else for that matter.”
“And that person told you that the bodies were of the Prince and Boersen’s son?”
“Yes and I had no reason not to believe it.”
Wil couldn’t resist another interruption.
“Except for the fact that this was a complete stranger, with no form of identification on the end of a phone! This is Amsterdam, or haven’t you noticed Ton? The place is swarming with loonies!”
“That’s easy to say, with hindsight. It was a very confusing time. I’d had several warnings from top police officials about releasing information to the media and this seemed very credible given the secrecy that surrounded practically everything. To my mind, it offered a logical reason why everything was so cloak and dagger.”
Jan Theunissen leaned forward so that his face came close to the beleaguered civil servant and Ton shrank back in his chair, visibly intimidated.
“Okay, let’s look at the facts then. You got this news and naively or not, believed it to be correct, then Wil and Ruud put the pressure on for information specifically about their young friend and for some reason you dropped that bombshell. They then quite rightly told me, because such information if it were true, has a right to be in the public domain, despite what the palace might think. Then of course, on national TV, I told the world. Except of course, it wasn’t true was it Mr. Bak and we only have your word for it that it was passed on to you? The supposedly dead and homosexual Prince and the equally non-gay, parliamentary offspring made very public appearances to confirm that they were alive. The shit hits the fan and everybody’s left with egg on their faces. The problem is; it doesn’t ring true. Why would someone feed you disinformation? What would they have to gain? It’s true what Wil says; for a major world city, Amsterdam has more than its fair share of village idiots but this is a bit far fetched even for your resident jokers. Maybe you can give us your theories as to why this happened? I’d be interested to hear them.”
Wil turned around, a look of incredulity on his face.
“Now wait a minute Jan; Ton has many faults but I think I know him. What are you suggesting here; that he made it all up? As you yourself say, where is the gain in something like that?”
Ruud laid his hand on his friend’s arm and staring Ton Bak directly in the eyes spoke quietly.
“Hold on Wil. Maybe you don’t know Ton as well as you think. I’m quite prepared to believe that the wool was pulled over our eyes as well and that we were gullible idiots. I’d like to hear what Ton says too. It seems pretty convenient that so-called top-secret information was passed on to us, even though we hadn’t asked for it. We were asked to keep our mouths shut but you can’t tell me that Ton didn’t know that it almost certainly would go further. You may think you know him but I’m beginning to suspect that he knows you far better!”
Wil looked like a goldfish surprised to find himself flapping about outside his bowl. He looked at Ruud, then at Jan Theunissen, who nodded sagely and then at Ton Bak, who clearly wished a hole would open up and swallow him whole.
“No! Yes, I mean…no! Fucking hell Ton, will you stop at nothing to get revenge on me?”
“Don’t flatter yourself Wil van Rossum.”
Ton sneered and in an instant, decided to brazen it out.
“What makes you think I would waste my energy on getting one over on someone as insignificant as you? I’ve got better things to do with my time!
“So it was all nonsense?”
Ruud’s question was quietly asked but couldn’t disguise his rising anger.
“But why? For fuck’s sake why? I don’t get it, what could you possibly gain from saying something so irresponsible?”
Wil wasn’t trying to score points, his reaction was one of incredulity but the accumulating pressure was enough. Ton slumped in his chair, all the fight gone out of him.
“I don’t know. I just don’t know okay! It just came out. When Wil and Ruud were pressing me for information, I didn’t have any; I didn’t even know what was going on in my own hospital. I’d lost control ‘cos we weren’t ready for a disaster on this scale. When the bodies and the injured came in, there were too many for us to cope with; or at least too many in one go and people kept asking me what to do and I didn’t really know. For the first time in my working life, I didn’t know what to do next. The pile of dossiers was growing on my desk and they kept asking me for statistics and who was dead and who was alive and I had no idea and no idea how to get the necessary information. I tried of course. I rang everyone I knew but everyone was up to their eyes in the same shit. I needed police records for identification and I needed…oh Christ, what didn’t I need! And then there were the sharks from the press and the TV; all asking the same questions and all asking why I didn’t know. I got sick of churning out the same old clichés and standard responses and the pressure just kept growing you know! I couldn’t cope with it and I’m not a man who can’t cope! That’s how I got to where I am now; through coping with every piece of shit that landed on my desk but this time, I lost the threads and couldn’t see the big picture and…and…”
“…and via Wil and Ruud, you gave them something to feed on, is that it?”
Jan Theunissen’s tone was more conciliatory now; there was little point in whipping a dead horse.
The hospital administrator hung his head and began almost imperceptibly to sob.
“Yes, I thought if I made the news big enough, all attention would focus on that and they would leave me alone for a while to sort everything out. I needed time you see; time to get my own house in order. I didn’t mean any harm by it; nobody was going to get hurt.”
Wil exploded.
“Nobody was going to get hurt! Why you no-good piece of horse shit! Did it never occur to you that I would be hurt, or rather, we would be hurt? Not to mention the fucking prince who had to face this down! God knows, I’d love to have been a fly on the wall at the palace when that little bombshell dropped! A tiny stone tossed into a pond causes ripples Ton, even you should have known that!”
Wil was quite proud of his analogy until Ruud once more shamed him into spluttering silence.
“What we felt is hardly the point. As far as I’m concerned, it’s embarrassing but not much else and when the truth comes out, as it will Ton, our reputations will be more or less clear. The real crime is that you’ve shown zero respect for those who’ve died, those still lying in hospital beds; or those family and friends who are still suffering. Not once amongst all your excuses have you shown any sympathy or compassion for the victims. You probably call it dispassionate professionalism; I call it extreme selfishness. You’re only interested in saving your own miserable skin and you can stop that pathetic crying now! Those crocodile tears would only be impressive if they were tears for someone else instead of yourself and the mess you’ve got yourself into. You disgust me and if you think that I can be persuaded in any way to keep this quiet, think again. I intend to drag your name through as much mud as I can find.”
Ruud’s voice was sinking lower and becoming quieter with every sentence and Wil recognised the signs; there was no way he was going to interrupt at this point.
“I can’t remember ever being this angry over anything; I want to hit you, I really do but that would mean lowering myself to your level and I don’t want to do that but I’ll take great pleasure in seeing your downfall and I mean that from the bottom of my heart!”
The room was deathly quiet. Wil was surprised but understood his friend’s reaction. He knew that sometimes things affected Ruud so deeply that he was capable of the strongest emotions and deep inside he was proud of him. Ruud possessed a restraint that sometimes drove his partner wild but at the same time was jealous of. Wil reacted instinctively and often irrationally but Ruud was a deep thinker. Wil liked to think that he was emotionally honest but knew that he jumped to the wrong conclusion far too often for that to be true. In truth Ruud was the honest one because he thought things through before he reacted. If he said he was angry, then he was really angry and if he said he wanted to strike someone then only Wil knew the extent of his restraint in not doing so.
Jan Theunissen was also taken aback but not only by Ruud’s straight-talking. The ramifications of Ton Bak’s confession were just beginning to sink in. Jan had to evaluate the effect of individuals’ actions on the gay community as a whole. He had long since realised the power of the ‘ripple effect’ with regard to public opinion. The fire had once again exposed the less palatable side of gay life, to a public who had by and large accepted gay culture as another facet of their own. The enormous wave of public sympathy could evaporate overnight if things weren’t handled carefully. De Tribune and others were doing their best to plant the moral blame firmly into the gays’ own back yard but had had only limited success because most thinking people saw it as right wing reaction. Of course, the details of life in the dark rooms were seen as seedy at best and down right disgusting at worst but the tragedy far outweighed the causes and just as with AIDS, most people were prepared to overlook the details and see the bigger picture. A story like this however, could tip the scales of public opinion away from the gay cause. The stereotypes of gay flightiness and untrustworthiness were bound to be highlighted again. De Tribune had only just published another veiled article accusing homosexuals of recruitment tactics and assuming that all men were gay until proved otherwise. This might just help to prove their point. Therefore, much as he applauded Ruud’s stand from a personal point of view; as editor of the country’s largest gay magazine and generally accepted spokesperson for gay affairs, his first instinct was to secretly hope the whole thing would just fade away. He had once been told by a media boss in Hilversum that he was, ‘the acceptable face of homosexual Holland’ and as such would always be welcome on Dutch TV, so long as, ‘he never blotted his copy book.’ He had been worried that his outburst on Vandenbroek on Friday had done just that! If he now went on national TV to say that the rumours had not only been fantasy but a fantasy created by a gay man, he ran the risk of never being taken seriously again. Then again, he had been critical of sections of the gay community then. If he continued that theme and destroyed Jan Bak by isolating him as a dangerous lunatic, albeit a gay lunatic, would that not be seen as honesty and forthrightness? Couldn’t he manipulate it so that the gay community would be seen as unafraid of self-criticism and thus morally on a level higher than its detractors? Maybe he should let Ruud have his own way and expose the whole sorry episode for what it was but then again, wouldn’t it be better if he had total control over the story instead of someone as anonymous as Ruud?
“I’m with you Ruud. I think it would be best if the whole truth came out. I’m sorry Jan but whatever your motives might have been, they didn’t justify such idiotic and badly thought out lies. To my mind, the best we can say about you is that you’ve been bloody stupid but I agree with Ruud that it’s much worse than that. What you’ve done is an insult to all the victims of this tragedy and as such you don’t deserve any form of protection. Listen Ruud, I’m due to go on TV for an interview tomorrow, do you think it would be a good idea if I brought the story out into the open then?”
He could hear himself and wasn’t proud of his manipulations but he knew that his media skills were needed now if damage limitation was to be achieved, or at least that’s what he sincerely believed.
Later that evening, lying in bed, Ruud gathered a sleepy Wil into his arms and dropped a bombshell of his own.
“Let’s move to Spain.”
“Huh…did you say something? I’m absolutely knackered…can’t keep my eyes open. What did you say?”
“I said… let’s move to Spain.”
“Spain? Did you say… move to Spain? What brought this on? Hold on a minute, I need to be awake here.”
Wil extracted himself from Ruud’s ever-tightening grip and sat up, his eyes half closed and looking every bit of his forty eight years. The last few weeks had taken their toll on both of them but his face was always the first to show the ravages of stress. He stared at Ruud, who was clearly wide awake and deep in thought.
“We don’t need to work any more you know that. We have that money from grandma Thea and we’ve got our savings. If we sell up here, we can buy a villa and set up something there, on the Costas to keep some income coming in; a bed and breakfast or something like that. We always said we would retire to the sun didn’t we? Well why don’t we go early?”
“You never cease to amaze me Ruud de Bruijn but why now? It’s not like you to come up with mad ideas or make impulsive decisions; that’s my department.”
“I’m sick of it all Wil. I’m sick of all this shit about the fire; about Jacco and his parents. I’m sick of the gay scene and the two-faced people who never change. I suddenly feel claustrophobic here. Everything’s changed. It’s as if Amsterdam’s lost its innocence. It used to be such a playground and you know most of the time I love it, with all its faults but now I’ve had enough. I want some fresh air. I want to be able to breathe and to stop struggling against all the shittiness. There’s not enough good things left here to outweigh the bad. Let’s get out while we’re still healthy and relatively sane and before this place goes completely to the dogs.”
“Wow, what a speech! What a surprise! But hold on my friend, I need some time to think about this. Uprooting our whole lives? You don’t just do that on a whim.”
With that, he ignored Ruud’s puzzled expression, turned over and lay on his side.
“Wil?”
There was a moment’s silence.
“Okay… I’ve thought about it and I’m afraid….yeah, sorry but…when do we start packing?”
Ruud thumped him far too hard but it didn’t matter; both men felt as though the world had been lifted from their shoulders.
The Amsterdam Series
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47. Truths and consequences
48. Will and Ruud take the reins
