Friday, March 6, 2015

Like Father...


Excerpt 12 from The Comfort Bird by Hylke Speerstra; tr. by H.J. Baron



Johannes Boorsma has gained a cruel enemy; his thriving Bicycle and Repair Shop has been hit by the depression in the 1930s.
   It finally comes down to the fact that the Bicycle Sales and Repair Shop is barely making it.  In the 20s the pace was still steady, but since the dry summer and the three fall storms of 1928 it’s been trouble.  Not that the people of Workum and surroundings had much awareness that right after Thursday, 23 October – Black Thursday – the stock market collapsed here too.  There had been a winter, and they had felt that.  The winter of 1929.
   It became icy cold.  Johannes and Pytsje could barely keep the stove burning.  The whole month of February they sat close to the stove in their coats.  The frozen canal between Workum and Bolsward creaked with frost; it became quiet on the country roads. 
   On the Workum schoolyard his son was tagged as “the son of the Kaiser from the little houseboat.”  Time and again he had to defend himself and his brother and sisters till blood flowed.  With both fists.  That morning before school started his attackers drove him into the corner of the schoolyard, and when he had finally fought himself free, he saw the school principal standing motionless in the school door.  At that moment Meindert made up his mind.
   “No, I’m never going back to school.  Never!  I can take care of myself.”  He’s not going to humiliate himself by telling his parents about the taunting and the bullying.

   “They want to keep our kind of people dumb.”  Johannes Boorsma breathes heavily and his words come out hoarse.  “And this way they’re going to succeed too.  Because, dammit, we don’t have enough education.  My dad as a kid gathered shitty tufts of sheep wool to stay alive and on the rebound I sat under a cow when I was only twelve.  And then I recently had to place our own daughter, our Lysbeth of twelve, with a farmer.  My child in a cow barn bed with manure on its doors.  Isn’t there ever going to come an end to this slavery!”
   The Dad turns back to his son and says, now more quietly: “I’m willing to crawl on my knees, boy, if you’ll go to school and get an education.”
   “I don’t want Dad to crawl for me, I want to take care of myself.”
   “Can’t you get it through your head then that knowledge is power?”
   “I don’t need power!”  The boy is shouting now.  “When ten big boys together want to beat me up, there’s no use.”  The boy rushes out, grabs his leaping pole from the flat roof, takes a run-up, leaps across the canal and heads for the fields, in search of freedom, justice, and work.  Yes, work, for he’s not afraid of that.  Working, he can be anybody’s equal.
When his son comes home around bedtime, a mother stands in the door trembling with worry waiting for him.  …

He speaks: “I just placed myself as junior farm helper with Tsjipke Goslinga.  The boss said that I can take lessons on the side in Parrega.  For the rest I can take of myself.”
On an early and dark morning in November 1930 he may go along with his dad to catch golden plovers with a clapnet by the Heidenskip Skar.
  The dad tells him about the grandfather: “I’m telling you, the man in his youth carved a bird whistle out of a cow bone and dolled it up with little copperplates and it became a miraculous instrument.  When it was finished, he could imitate any meadow bird, and so amazingly beautiful and realistic that the birds thought of him as a bird.”
   The boy speaks: “Grandpa wanted to travel with the birds to faraway lands, but he thought that he would then have to leave his soul behind.  In his heart he wanted to go to America, but because of that he held back.  Dad would have liked to go to America too, but because Grandpa didn’t go, you stayed here too.”
   It’s quiet for a long time, then the boy says: “When I’m grown up, I’ll travel anywhere.”
   “Then you should know that in a flight of plovers, sometimes a bird travels with them to comfort others.  One who undertakes a long journey needs comfort.”
   “Mom is my comfort bird.  For the rest I’ll take care of myself.” 



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