Fifty-one
When I emerge from my bedroom, Broodje and Henk are just waking up and are surveying the wreckage like army generals who have lost a major ground battle.
Broodje turns to me, his face twisted in apology. “I’m sorry. I can clean it all later. But we promised we’d meet W at ten to help him move. And we’re already late.”
“I think I’m going to be sick,” Henk says.
Broodje picks up a beer bottle, two-thirds full of cigarette butts. “You can be sick later,” he says. “We made a promise to W.” Broodje looks at me. “And to Willy. I’ll clean the flat later. And Henk’s vomit, which he’s going to keep corked for now.”
“Don’t worry about it,” I say. “I’ll clean it all. I’ll fix everything!”
“You don’t have to be so cheerful about it,” Henk says, wincing and touching his temples.
I grab the keys from the counter. “Sorry,” I say, not sorry at all. I head to the door.
“Where are you going?” Broodje.
“To take the wheel!”
I’m unlocking my bike downstairs when my phone rings. It’s her. Kate.
“I’ve been calling you for the last hour,” I say. “I’m coming to your hotel.”
“My hotel, huh?” she says. I can hear the smile in her voice.
“I was worried you’d leave. And I have a proposition for you.”
“Well, propositions are best proposed in person. But sit tight because I’m actually on my way to you. That’s why I’m calling. Are you home?”
I think of the flat, Broodje and Henk in their boxers, the unbelievable mess. The sun is out, really out, for the first time in days. I suggest we meet at the Sarphatipark instead. “Across the street. Where we were yesterday,” I remind her.
“Proposition downgraded from a hotel to a park, Willem?” she teases. “I’m not sure whether to be flattered or insulted.”
“Yeah, me neither.”
I go straight to the park and wait, sitting down on one of the benches near the sandpit. A little boy and girl are discussing their plans for a fort.
“Can it have one hundred towers?” the little boy asks. The girl says, “I think twenty is better.” Then the boy asks, “Can we live there forever?” The girl considers the sky a moment and says, “Until it rains.”
By the time Kate shows up, they’ve made significant progress, digging a moat and constructing two towers.
“Sorry it took so long,” Kate says, breathless. “I got lost. This city of yours, it runs in circles.”
I start to explain about the concentric canals, the Ceintuurbaan being a belt that goes around the waist of the city. She waves me off. “Don’t bother. I’m hopeless.” She sits down next to me. “Any word from Frau Directeur?”
“Total silence.”
“That sounds ominous.”
I shrug. “Maybe. Nothing I can do. Anyway, I have a new plan.”
“Oh,” Kate says, widening her already big green eyes. “You do?”
“I do. In fact, that’s what my proposition is about.”
“The thick plottens.”
“What?”
She shakes her head. “Never mind.” She crosses her legs, leans in toward me. “I’m ready. Proposition me.”
I take her hand. “I want you.” I pause. “To be my director.”
“Isn’t that a little like shaking hands after making love?” she asks.
“What happened last night,” I begin, “it happened because of you. And I want to work with you. I want to come study with Ruckus. Be an apprentice.”
Kate’s eyes slit into smiles. “How do you know about our apprenticeships?” she drawls.
“I may have looked at your website one or a hundred times. And I know you mostly work with Americans, but I grew up speaking English, I act in English. Most of the time, I dream in English. I want to do Shakespeare. In English. I want to do it. With you.”
The grin has disappeared from Kate’s face. “It wouldn’t be like last night—Orlando on a main stage. Our apprentices do everything. They build sets. They work tech. They study. They act in the ensemble. I’m not saying you wouldn’t play principal roles one day—I would not rule that out, not after last night. But it would take a while. And, there are visa issues to consider, not to mention the union, so you couldn’t come over expecting the spotlight. And I’ve told David he needs to meet you.”
I look at Kate and am about to say that I wouldn’t expect that, that I’d be patient, that I know how to build things. But I stop myself because it occurs to me that I don’t need to convince her of anything.
“Where do you think I was last night?” she asks. “I was waiting for David to get back from his Medea, so I could tell him about you. Then I arranged for him to get his ass on a plane so he could see you tonight before that invalid comes back. He’s on his way, and in fact, I have to leave soon to go to the airport to meet him. After all this trouble, they’d better put you on again, otherwise, you’re going to have to do it solo for him.”
She laughs. “I’m kidding. But Ruckus is a small operation so we make decisions like this communally. That’s another thing you have to be prepared for, how dysfunctionally co-dependent we all are.” She throws up her arms. “But every family is like that.”
“So, wait? You were going to ask me?”
The grin is back. “Was there any doubt? But it pleases me no end, Willem, that you asked me. It shows you’ve been paying attention, which is what a director wants in an actor.” She taps her temple. “Also, very clever of you to move to the States. Good for your career but also it’s where your Lulu is from.”
I think of Tor’s letter, only today the regret and recrimination is gone. She looked for me. I looked for her. And last night, in some strange way, we found each other.
“That’s not why I want to go,” I tell Kate.
She smiles. “I know. I’m just teasing. Though I think you’ll really take to Brooklyn. It has a lot in common with Amsterdam. The brownstones and the rowhouses, the loving tolerance of eccentricity. I think you’ll feel right at home.”
When she says that a feeling comes over me. Of pausing, of resting, of all the clocks in the world going quiet.
Home.