A Dutch Fairytale

Dear readers.

First of all, thanks to SouthernCrossfire for his efforts to make this a digestible story and for ironing out the many mistakes I made.

The beginning of this story, in particular, is rather detailed. Why? Just because I liked it that way. If it is not something for you, please stop reading and look for another story. The ones who are interested can check Google Maps. It's all quite accurate.

That said, all persons, authorities and companies have been made up by me and are entirely fictional.

____________________________

Karel was busy in the kitchen, listening to the intimate tones of the Stabat Mater from Arvo Pärt, when his phone rang. He looked at it and noticed it was his daughter. He thought fondly,

checking on her father.

He answered the call. "Daughter of mine, to what do I own this joyous occasion?"

Anna replied happily, "Father of mine, what are you doing?"

Karel and his daughter Anna always started their phone calls in this manner for over 20 years.

Karel replied, "I'm cleaning carrots."

"Why are you cleaning carrots?"

"Because I'm making a carrot-cocos cake for your children."

"You are spoiling our children way too much, daddy dear."

.

"What kind of opa would I be if I don't spoil my grandchildren, dear daughter? You are still coming for dinner tomorrow I hope?"

"Oh yes. All five of us. Martin will be late, but in time for dinner. What are you going to make for us?"

"I thought for my little girl pissaladière and for the rest, pizza. So the kids can do their own toppings."

Anna was fond of the French version of pizza. but didn't have the time nor the patience to dice and, slowly, fry 2 and a half kilos of onions into a thick brown paste. She said, "I'll retract my comment about spoiling and I'd love to have some pissaldière. And can I take some of it home with me?"

"Your wish is my command. Slicing and dicing two versus three and a half kilos of onions makes little difference.  And I think I'm able to make some extra dough too. But the real question is: who's being spoiled, dear daughter?"

"I know, I know. You spoil us all. Well, Dad, I hear you are okay. I've got to run. See you tomorrow."

Karel van der Goos, age 64. a widower of two years, sighed contentedly. He loved having his children over and he really liked the hustle and bustle of his grandchildren. Three from Anna and Martin, and two from each of his sons Bob and Jimmy. Karel had been married to his childhood sweetheart Anita. She passed away after a short, brutal sickbed and left her husband and their children behind.

In familiar company, like his family or close friends, Karel was a charming, witty, and erudite man, but since the death of his wife, he lived practically like a hermit. He rarely went out, but when he did for anything other than groceries or shopping, it was usually like going out to classical concerts, alone. Or, more often, making long walks, again alone. The last was not really a surprise as long walks, equal to at least 50 kilometers, or, occasionally, a Kennedy Walk, wasn't out of the question. His demeanor towards people Karel was not familiar with, was about the same as with his family, only then he kept his distance. He didn't make jokes or have snappy answers. After his wife passed away, he didn't meet many people and those he met didn't see him as the warm and caring man he actually was.

Karel was a fit, reasonably good looking man. One could call him wiry with his 192 centimeters and 81 kilos. Besides walking, he also did Pilates and Tai Chi. Since his wife passed away, he also wrote little stories to keep himself occupied and for his own amusement, in Dutch for his grandchildren and adult stories, his guilty pleasure, in English. Karel lived in a small house in a suburb in the south-east of Amsterdam. The house was conveniently situated near the metro station, which gave easy access to the city center.

====

The next day the grandchildren loudly announced themselves, "Opa! Ooopa!  Where are you? We made a drawing for you!"

As soon as Anna opened the front door they stormed into the kitchen. "Opa, Opa what are we eating? Did you make cookies? Do we have dessert? Did you write a new story for us?"

Karel laughed out loud and replied, "Patience my dears, patience. And, no, I didn't make cookies."

He saw the disappointed faces of his grandchildren and continued quickly. "But I did make carrot-cocos cake and we're having pizza. You can do the toppings yourself if you wish, but you have to wait a while for the story."

His last sentence got lost in the happy chatter and shouting from the children running into the garden, the story and the drawings already forgotten.

Later, after an early dinner,  Karel and Anna were doing the dishes. Timidly, Anna started, "Dad?"

"Yes, dear."

"You know we love you, don't you?"

"I know, dearest daughter of mine. What's the problem? "

"Daddy, mum's been gone two years now, isn't it time you come out of your shell and go out?"

"Anna, I am going out. You don't have to worry about me. You have three kids and a husband to worry about. Isn't that enough?"

"I know, Dad, but you promised us that you would seek a companion. That's not what you do when going to work, or going alone to concerts or museums or on walks, nor while reading books or writing stories for the kids. We, and I mean my brothers as well, want to see our happy dad again. We now believe that you just are 'existing' and not living, so we worry, Dad. Do we need to set you up with someone? We can, you know. There are lots of people interested in you, especially women."

"Dear daughter of mine, stop right there. No, no,

NO

! Don't go there. When the time's right, you will be the first to know. And I definitely don't want to be 'introduced' to people. Now you have me worrying about you worrying about me. Huh, how did that come out in one try?" Karel said with a little smile on his face.

"Okay, Dad, we'll leave it for now, but you need to get out of your shell."

After Karel and Anna finished the dishes, Anna and her family said their goodbyes and went home. The little house was quiet again. Karel went to his cd collection, took one out, and put it in the cd-player. He thought he earned himself a proper drink, so he poured himself a glass of very old jenever, the Dutch gin.

Silently, while Orlando de Lassus floated through the living, he contemplated the little interlude with Anna in the kitchen.

When I meet the right woman, daughter, when I meet the right woman. And that may prove to be very difficult after the last five years.

he thought.

Finally, he turned on his tablet to check his email. Besides the standard rubbish, and bills, there was one from his editor.

Funny, I'm still working on a story and I didn't send him anything. Let's see.

Karel opened the mail

Hi Charlemagne,

It must be a surprise to receive mail when you don't have a story to edit.

The thing is that my wife and I decided that we want to spend our holiday in Europe and in The Netherlands to be precise. We are, for two weeks, staying in a hotel at the Dam Square near the Central Station in Amsterdam.

We would like to meet you in person, if you'll allow us. Us means my wife, my wife's sister, and myself. Please let me know if you're interested.

Take care,

El Seize

Karel thought a moment and replied,

Greetings El Seize,

Of course I'd like to meet you, your wife, and your sister-in-law. If you'd like, I can even show you some of Amsterdam most tourists don't get to see.

Can I propose that you spend your first week doing the touristy things like The Rijksmuseum, the Van Gogh museum, the canals and so on. Then I free up the next week to show you Amsterdam and some of the rest of The Netherlands most people don't know how to find.

I also advise to book the slots for the museums and, for instance, the Anne Frank house as soon as possible.

Let me know what you think of my proposal and if you like it, contact me so we can exchange phone numbers.

Regards,

Charlemagne (Karel)

====

Minutes after Karel replied, El Seize (though 6 hours earlier on the clock, about 5800 kilometers westwards, over the Great Drink) called out excitedly to his wife and sister-in-law, "He replied already! He wants to meet us and offers to act as a guide. What do you think about that!"

His wife, Tara, replied dryly, "That's nice dear," and went on chatting with her sister, Lucy.

Tara and Lucy were like two peas in a pod. Tara, 57 years old, and Lucy, 56, looked alike, talked alike, and actually could be passed off as twins. There were differences but only someone like EL Seize, aka Louis, could tell. One important difference was their choice in men. Tara and Louis were happily married for over 35 years. Lucy, on the other hand, had had two toxic relationships and had outworn a string of men. Lucy's first relationship ended before she married, finding herself in hospital while he found himself in jail doing 5 years. The second ended when she found her husband in bed with their neighbor. Before she found the baseball bat, the man ran without his pants across the street and locked himself in, in his house. The resulting divorce was very ugly because her husband didn't see sex with a man as cheating on a woman.

Lucy wasn't very enthusiastic about the whole idea. She thought to herself,

What do we need a writer of seedy stories for? We can do without him.

She started trying to derail Louis' plan.

====

The derailing didn't work.

Lucy, Tara, and Louis were waiting for Karel at the courtyard garden at their hotel. At 10 am on the dot, Lucy saw a man entering the garden. He was tall and slender with a flat stomach, and a lined face with sad eyes. Holding himself straight, in silent confidence, he looked around until Louis called out, "Charlemagne, over here!"

Lucy saw the man looking their way. When he started to come their way, Lucy whispered to her sister, "This is not what I expected. He doesn't look like a pervert."

Tara looked shocked at her sister and said, "You just implied that my husband is a pervert. Did I hear that right? They just write stories. They don't reenact them. Behave yourself."

Lucy scowled at her sister but said nothing. Karel arrived at their table and shook hands with Louis who introduced Karel to Tara and Lucy. Lucy looked at Karel and said, "He's white!"

Karel, surprised, looked at the woman. Despite the poisonous remark, he liked what he saw. Almond eyes, dark, smoldering with an inner fire. Short black hair with streaks of gray and high cheekbones. She looked like she was at least 5ft 10in and, while not slim, her body weight was well distributed with emphasis on her breasts and wide hips. She had beautiful caramel colored skin, and long legs completed the picture.

Karel said with a wry smile on his face, "I blame my ancestors. I apologize on their behalf. But if that is an issue with you, I'll just say goodbye and take my leave."

Louis jumped up. Angrily, he said to his sister-in-law, "Apologize! Immediately! That was uncalled for. This is not the way to behave. You are here as our guest as Karel is our guest now. On top of that, he is so friendly to show us around. You keep a civil tongue or you can play the tourist alone for the rest of the holiday."

Lucy looked as she just took a bite out of a lemon. "Sorry. That was out of line."

It didn't sound sincere but Karel let it slide. He looked up and asked, "What have you been doing? I have to ask so we don't have to do that again."

Tara, enthusiastically, started to tell. It took almost half an hour. Karel listened patiently. It was what he expected. When Tara finished he said, "I have a few questions. First, how good is your condition? I need to know because I'd like to plan a walk near the outskirts of Amsterdam. You'll be seeing a couple of windmills up close and a small but very charming river. We can go to Weesp, which is an old city near Amsterdam. And of course I promised to show you some of the city too. If we have time we go to Haarlem."

He looked at Louis and the two ladies. Louis admitted that they were already rather tired from last week, so maybe a walk of two, or three hours?

Karel nodded. "Okay, I'll keep it down to three hours with a break for coffee, lunch or something like that. Next question, how late do you like to start? I mean walk out of the hotel. Any time after 6 am is convenient for me," he added jokingly.

Tara told Karel that ten o'clock would be fine. Lucy asked Karel in a catty tone, "Aren't you afraid that we can outwalk you?"

"Not really." replied Karel with an ironic note in his voice, "Only if you're able to walk more than seventeen hours in one go, I'll ask for clemency."

"You're bluffing!"

"Nope, would you like to put it to the test? But you have to walk the same distance. It's about 50 miles."

"How are you so sure it's 50 miles?"

"It's called a Kennedy walk. The goal is to walk 50 miles in twenty hours. I do three, or four in a season and I need 17 hours to complete one."

Lucy looked at Karel's face. She couldn't detect any sarcasm in his face, nor his voice. It was like he just stated the facts. But no one in his right mind would voluntarily walk 50 miles? She started to get angry with him. Was he made of Teflon or something? Nothing seemed to touch him. She decided to give it another go. She asked, "What did your wife say when you came up with this ridiculous plan to walk 50 miles?"

"O. She didn't like the idea at all. I had to promise her that 50 miles was the longest distance I would take on. And officially organized walks only. So that is what I still do."

"And tell me, where is your wife now that you are having a good time showing us the city?"

"That depends, Her body is in her grave. Her soul? I'm not so sure. Is there a heaven, or a hell?"

Lucy thought to herself,

Ow! That's toeing the line. One more try.

"And what did she have to say about you, writing perverted stories?"

Louis growled, "Lucy leave the man alone and stop taking out your frustrations on him."

Karel looked, first at Louis, then at Lucy and said, "I think it's a rude, but valid question and deserves an answer. My wife passed away two years ago. I started writing after her death. Before I had other things to do, such as taking care of a very sick wife. From the way you question me, I surmise that this will not be a satisfactory answer, but I don't do seances so I'll never know, will I?"

Tara, who was afraid that Louis would explode, asked, "Karel, what do you have in mind for today?"

Karel, grateful for the intervention, answered, "I'd like to show you the Jordaan district."

They left the hotel and walked to the Warmoestraat. After a few minutes Lucy shook Karel's arm. Pointing to a shop window, she asked, "What, for heaven's sake, kind of shop is that?"

Karel laughed and replied, "That, my dear lady, is 'the Condomerie'. It was the first shop in the world where they sell only condoms and related articles for safe sex."

Lucy retorted, "A sex shop."

Karel mildly replied, "I don't think so. They don't sell vibrators, dildo's and those kinds of things. Just condoms, oral dams and related stuff. Do you want to look inside, or shall we move on?"

They decided to move on, with Tara silently observing Lucy and Karel. She didn't understand why her sister tried to get under his skin and anger the man. He was nice to look at, friendly and polite, and seemed to take the needling from Lucy effortlessly in his stride.

Louis, on the other hand, was aggravated and whispered to Tara, "What is your sister trying to accomplish? Ruin the second part of our holiday. She doesn't like Karel? Only because he is writing erotic stories? What's wrong with her?"

Tara knew her husband well and saw this coming. She whispered back, "I'll talk to her tonight. Now please keep calm. It seems that Karel can fend for himself very well and I think that is one of Lucy's problems. She never met a man who didn't blow up under her needling."

Karel chose to walk along The Brouwersgracht until it reached The Prinsengracht. There he took a picture of the three within the background of the opposite corner from both canals. He showed them the photo on his camera and told them, "You, almost, can't have a more picturesque picture from the three of you in Amsterdam."

They crossed the two bridges, one  across The Brouwersgracht, the other across The Prinsengracht. Karel wanted to show them some of the city's almshouses, group homes for primarily elderly or poor women. The Begijnhof, one of the oldest and most famous of these, was almost too famous and was too busy as a result, with its residents almost constantly being disturbed by the steady flow of tourists. Karel took them to Willemstraat instead, where there were several more they could observe without being a bother.

After that, they tried some sweet liquors in The Driehoekstraat and then had lunch somewhere on The Lindegracht. Halfway through the afternoon, Karel took his dead-tired guests back to the hotel. For the next morning, they arranged to meet at the end of metro-line 54 for a stroll in the countryside.

By the time they parted, Tara had started to like Karel very much. She told Louis, "Karel is just the man Lucy needs. He is very balanced. He talks well, knows his business, and isn't exactly hard on the eyes."

Louis's beer almost came back through his nose. He started coughing and snorting at the same time. He hiccupped, "If he has any feelings for her, she'll kill them first with her behavior."

But Tara wasn't that easily discouraged. "I'll think of something," she said with conviction.

====

The next day promised to be a beautiful day, with a typical Dutch sky, blue with silver-white clouds, the sun, and a pleasant temperature for a stroll in the countryside.

Lucy, Tara and Louis emerged from the metro looking around. Karel, already waiting, shouted,  "Over here!" and waved.

While Louis and Tara greeted Karel warmly, Lucy didn't even acknowledge Karel.

Karel, unperturbed, looked at Lucy's shoes and smiled a little. He stated with some irony in his voice, "I see that I'll have to cut the route a bit short to prevent blisters."

Lucy bit back, "Not on my behalf."

"As you wish." He turned and the foursome went to the exit and walked out. Karel walked straight into a suburb with low, tiny houses.

"Why does the tarmac have that pinkish color?" Tara asked Karel.

"That is a bicycle path. Cars are not allowed to use it."

They walked for about half a mile when they arrived at what looked like the entrance of a park. When they crossed a little wooden bridge with a cattle grid on the other side. There, again, was a bicycle path. Lucy noted sourly, "They can't even maintain their parks properly."

Karel laughed, "Because this isn't a park. It's part of a wildlife corridor between two nature reserves, it's mostly maintained by cows. The park is a mile north from here. But we're going south for another half of a mile."

They walked between mature willows and birch for a while, but then the path made a turn and the landscape suddenly opened up. There, they saw meadows with cows and sheep. At the horizon to their right were two church towers and a bright yellow train speeding along. To their left was some farmland and a windmill.

"You see that windmill? Karel asked. That's where we are going. We can extend our walk when we are at the 5 mile mark with another mile to see Fort Nigtevecht, if you wish. The Fort is a part of the 'Stelling van Amsterdam.' A stelling is a defense line. This one consists of 46 forts and is on the world heritage list from Unesco. All were built just before the airplane was invented, which made the line obsolete. But let's see the windmills first."