by JH Terry
“Some people need their traditions, Adelé,” said Louis. “It makes them feel as if they are like carrots, with roots in the soil for something. Without those roots they have nothing. Besides, do you Indian friends have customs and traditions?”
“Yes, but their customs are gentle.”
“Really?”
“Yes, they are.”
“My mother was killed by Indians in the West Indies when I was a boy. I do not call that gentle Adelé.”
“Then she must have provoked them, or else they would not.”
“You must understand, Adelé, that no one is better than anyone else. Even Indians have their different tribes, and fight their own wars to gain over the others. No one is without his or her prejudices, and no one is free from his or her own differences. To say that one were would be foolish and the speaker even more foolish.”
Adelé thought about Louis’s words, and knew them to be right. Even the Indians fought each other. She supposed no one was without his or her prejudices. But then she remembered something. “At least the Indians are not here to reap the benefits of the land, they love the land and take care of it. They understand how precious it is and do not use it.”
“True, but then again gaining profit off of the land is not all that bad.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, the New World has valuable resources that we can utilize. I feel that it is beneficial to the economy of the Netherlands to use it.”
“Why?”
“The world is run on money, Adelé. The New World has assets that drive nations. If the Netherlands comes here first and uses them entirely to their benefit we will be a global power, or else we will be swept over by England, France and Spain. Spain already owns most of Central and South America, Adelé, the necessity of the New World is purely for money. If we are not at the head, then we will be in danger as others will take that place willingly.”
“Is that all you care about - money?”
“No,” said Louis truthfully, “but there is no point in saying that the world is all flowers and teacakes, I mean that it is all happy and truthful. I know you probably cannot understand right now, Adelé, but that is the truth about life.”
“No it is not. You can be different Louis, if you wanted to be. What is so wrong in being different?”
“Being different never pays for anything, Adelé. If you want to be successful you must play by the rules of others.”
“You are nothing but a coward.”
Louis looked angrily to Adelé, who still kept her feet firm about what she had said. “Perhaps I am,” said Louis coldly as he stopped ten feet away from a little brick house. “We are here. You can go up yourself, but I, the coward, shall wait out here for you.”
Adelé seemed saddened by what she had said, sensing that the word ‘coward’ had hurt Louis deeply. “Louis,” she said suddenly. “I am sorry, please do come in.”
“No,” said Louis firmly. “I would rather not.” Louis, then looking to Adelé guilty face said, “Oh no, not because of you. She would not like me to come as well. We haven’t talked in nearly twenty years, so I suppose that you should go yourself.”
“Of course,” said Adelé unsure of going, but still she walked up to the brick house. On a wooden sign on the house, which was shining with a lacquer finish, read the words: Helen Heinz, midwife extraordinary.
Adelé walked up to the wooden door of the house, but upon knocking on it she noticed that the door was already open. Unsure of what to do, Adelé heard a strong, lively voice say, “Come in already, I haven’t all day.”
Quickly Adelé gave one look to where Louis had been, but was surprised to see that he was gone. She supposed it was the word coward that had made him not want to enter, and then she walked into the little house. Adelé saw the creamy color of the house inside, along with cozy chairs and a continuous fire, which seemed to never die out.
“Good afternoon, Miss Adelé van Soothsbay,” said the old woman of before with a smile.
“Good afternoon,” said Adelé unsure of the old woman now and her motives.
“I see that you do not remember or just do not know me. I am Helen Heinz, midwife. I took care of you when you were just a little baby, and your parents did not want you around.”
“You?” asked Adelé. “You were the one Mary told me all about, who took care of me while my mother and everyone else were unable to take care of me.”
“Well, dear,” said Heinz as she squished her lips together like a fish, making her wrinkles show clearly. “Your mother and everyone else could have taken care of you, but I was the only one willing to take care of you.”
“The only one?” asked Adelé saddened. “What about Mary?”
“Mary would have if she could, of course, but she was the maid to your parents. If you must know that Mary is the reason why you are here today. If you had been left to your parents you would have died, no changes in that.”
“But why did my parents not want me?” asked Adelé.
“That is not the question Adelé, it is why did they want you. They had Higgles, and for her they wanted a playmate, but when you were not exactly what they wanted they turned against you. You see, Adelé, you must understand your parents before you can fully judge them. You must find out why they did this to you, not just get angry with them. Believe me you are not the first to suffer so, and you will definitely not be the last.”
“I never knew a mother could hate a child so.”
“You mother does not hate you, Adelé,” said Heinz with a warming smile. “She is just blind with a certain prejudice against you. It may take a little time for you to understand it, but soon you will. However, you must remember that your father is a very weak man at times, very influenced by your mother and older sister. He probably spoiled them rotten, and this is how they turned up. Now, I know that there is no good reason for what he did, but you must understand him. Soon Adelé you will be leaving New Amsterdam forever, and you must know about these things or else they will live in your heart hurt forever.”
Adelé looked to Mrs. Heinz with uncertainty in her heart, but by what Mrs. Heinz said it would make sense why her parents acted the way that they did to her all of her life. “Thank you, Mrs. Heinz.”
“Thank you for coming, Adelé. Now, tell Mr. Louis van Pargoo that the next time he comes here that he should enter and not think that I am still angry with him. Twenty years is too long of a time to wait to tell him something very important.”
“Yes, Miss…ur…Mrs.”
“You can call me Helen,” said Mrs. Heinz with a sweet smile.
“Thank you, Helen,” said Adelé happily. With that she left the house and walked outside. She watched her movements as she did not want to be hurt by anyone as she was walking. Suddenly she felt someone next to her. Looking around she saw that it was Louis, coming out of nowhere.
“How was it?” asked Louis coldly.
“Where did you go?” asked Adelé. “She wants to see you next time in friendship.”
“Oh,” said Louis his manner still cold. “I just went for a walk in the woods.”
“Oh,” said Adelé. “I really hope you know that I thank you for escorting me. That was very brave of you.”
“Did Mrs. Heinz tell you to say that too?”
“What?”
“Never mind, I have work to do Adelé, we must hurry quickly to your house.”
“Yes, Louis,” said Adelé slightly hurt by Louis’s attitude as they walked quickly to her home.
Upon bringing her to the door, however, Louis stopped and said, “Enjoy the rest of your day, Miss van Soothsbay.”
“I do not know what is bothering you Louis, but I do hope it was not because of what I said. I would not like to hurt anyone, least of all you.”
Louis looked into her eyes with a slight anger, which hurt Adelé completely. She edged for the door when he said, “Why me least of all?”
Adelé looked to him stunned, “Because you have been the kindest to me in New Amsterdam since my visit. Goodbye, Louis.”
With this Adelé walked into her house as Louis walked away, down the street to his father’s business.
XIX: Trouble in Ohio
It had been four weeks since she had left her father, Jan, and mother, Sarie, in New Amsterdam, but Higgles van Soothsbay was completely miserable. The trail to the plot of Prince Raspereski in Ohio was very rickety with Indians as trouble along the way. Higgles had never been outdoors before, bad for the complexion of course, let alone been to anywhere outside of New Amsterdam. Higgles seemed happy with the trip at first, being with the prince, but afterwards even he began to get on her nerves and she hoped that as soon as they came to Ohio, they would return to New Amsterdam. She did not understand why the prince liked Ohio so much, it seemed to have more trees and mud than anything civilized.
To spend the time, as boring as it was, Higgles began to ask Isaac all about himself, to which the reply was always cold and that a wife should not ask that of her husband. Yes, the two were married, but Higgles wished she could undo all of that now. She was no longer happy with Isaac, who also seemed bored with her. She was not happy in the least. Her hair had so much moisture from rains that the color of her hair had turned from gold to hay yellow. That definitely made matters worse.
“I cannot stand this place, Isaac,” Higgles would moan always. “I want to go back home.”
“Do not be silly,” Isaac would say. “We have not even reached there yet. Once you get there, your majesty (said by Isaac with a sneer in his voice), then you can be as cozy as you were in New Amsterdam.”
However, within two weeks, just when it seemed that they were about to cause mutiny, the coach stopped at a spot of land with several tree roots sticking out of it, save for a small log cabin in its middle. Isaac opened his window, and said to the driver, “Where are we?”
“Your home, prince,” said the carriage driver.
Higgles looked and saw the log cabin, giving a scream of disgust and crying out several tears.
“Are you sure this is the place?” asked Isaac of the carriage driver.
“Yes, prince, as on the map.”
“I have been robbed,” said Isaac as Higgles continued to cry. “Oh, shut up you foolish girl. It is only a log cabin. We can stay there for a while.”
“STAY THERE?” asked Higgles stunned. “I was just crying that that was the only house that we had. I am not staying there.”
“Oh yes you are Princess Raspereski,” said Isaac with anger in his voice. “Or I’ll leave you here alone, you spoiled little brat.” Higgles cried, but she got out of the carriage, walking over to the log cabin as Raspereski watch the carriage driver unload their items. All of the time he told the driver, “I am watching you, no funny business, understand me?”
The man would hiss at Isaac, meaning that he was not happy with the arrangement, but continued unloading, putting all of their things into the log cabin. Then, once he was finished, he said, “Would you like me to fetch for you some provisions, Prince Isaac?”
“No,” said Prince Isaac, “but you can go now, leaving your carriage.”
“But, there are Indians…”
“That is your problem,” said Prince Isaac with a smile. “Now, get out of here.”
The man left as Higgles looked to Isaac in disgust. “That was low of you,” she said with an air of being better than him.
“As if you were not that low either,” said Isaac as Higgles turned her head away. “Let’s get inside our home, dear.” Isaac pushed Higgles forward as they headed to the log cabin. It was cold, damp and small inside. There was only a table with two chairs and a small bed inside. “Make yourself at home,” said Isaac to Higgles as he closed shut the door.
* * * * * * * * *
It had turned to nightfall as Higgles finished taking care of the little log cabin that was theirs. Isaac had told her that as a woman it was her job to clean the house and that as she did it he would be trying to shoot down some dinner for them to eat. He said that if she was not done by nightfall that he would make her sleep outside in the rain.
Higgles felt miserable. She had never before realized that a woman was so inferior to a man in society, and now she was suffering for all her years of being a spoiled child, spoiled into believing that she could always get her way.
The house was clean, of course, but it wasn’t what one would call truly clean. If anything, the house was more ‘wiped.’ Since Higgles had no experience with cleaning she did not know what to do, but at least she knew what clean looked like and her efforts were far from it. She felt angered by her inability to do this right, and began to get scared of what Isaac would do to her. However, as time dragged on she noticed something. It was already pitch dark and Isaac was nowhere near.
Higgles became scared. Even though she hated Isaac she needed his help. Where was he? Did he run off? She did know that he did take a horse from the carriage, but then again that was Isaac’s type of attitude to everything - in style. However, the forest around the cabin was heavily wooded - no horse could travel amongst it easily. Higgles then began to know what happened. Isaac used the cleaning as a diversion as he ran away. Looking into his things, she saw a letter written to him by someone named Gregory Rembrandt. Looking to the letter she read:
Ernest,
Do not worry, I am living here in New Amsterdam, you will be safe here. I am living with a family of idiots called the van Soothsbays. They would not notice the difference of you being here even if you licked their faces everyday. Besides, they have a horror of a child named Higgles, beautiful mind you, but don’t you get into trouble with her, she’s like poison. You take care of yourself and I await your arrival.
Your brother,
Gregory
Higgles was astounded by this letter, but also angered by what it said about her and her family. Then, she found another piece of paper, a clipping, which read:
Today, the criminal Ernest Rembrandt, who paints people faces with different Rembrandt works as he finishes the deed murdered two people. This makes the total equal to eight as this elusive criminal is still at large. It may take days before he is caught, but as the constable who first found the murdered victims points out, “When I get that Rembrandt I will paint something on his face, something that will be make his like milk to my cannon fire!” Of course, the constable said before was slightly drunk after what had happened, but you would be too if you saw one dead with a great piece of artwork of his or her face.
Higgles did not understand, though, what was Isaac doing with these things. What did he have to do with Ernest or Gregory Rembrandt? Was he trying to get a hold of them? Suddenly she heard a noise from outside. She stuffed the letter and clipping under her dress as the door opened. However, to her own horror, she did not see Isaac there, but an Indian man with a hatchet in his hand smiling wickedly. Higgles, being as she was, fainted as the man’s face dimmed from her sight and she dreamt horrible things happening to her. She even heard Isaac’s voice saying, “You got what you need, just make sure you do a good job. I do not want another problem.”
Another problem? Higgles did not understand as she was led away to whichever way her captors were taking her.
* * * * * * * * *
It was morning when Higgles woke up again. She was very tired and strained from the night before. She looked around her to see that she was in a log cabin with several others in there with her, several other woman Indians. She was surprised how calm and peaceful the women were as they worked, their children amongst them. They seemed to be working exceptionally hard as they milled corn to make flour and other items. Higgles was surprised by all of this, but then she remembered, where was she? Then suspicions clouded her mind as in walked a tall Indian man with moccasins on his feet and hide for pants and a shirt. He walked over to Higgles, who began to screa
m and resist, but the man picked her up onto his shoulder, carrying her outside. She saw several more Indians working together peacefully, just looking at her for a moment as she screamed, and then returning happily to work.
After about a five minute walk the man entered another log cabin, which was warm with fire. He placed Higgles down on the ground gently before a group of old Indian men. Higgles was scared and the man who had carried her left the cabin.
Out of nowhere Higgles heard a voice say in a French accent, “My dear, what is your name?”
Looking to the right corner of the cabin she saw a balding priest who seemed quite thin, but not very old, at most fifty. “Higgles,” she blurted out without thinking.
“Higgles, I am Father Bernard DuPré, a fur trader in these parts. I was lucky enough to find a party of Indian men taking you to a cliff to drop you over. Luckier still, I had some of my Mississippian friends here help me to save your life. Of course one of the rogue Indians, I believe that he was Iroquois, more and more of them lately sadly, left to tell whoever sent him to do it news of its failure. However, that means that you are not safe, my dear. The Mississippians are fighters, of course, but the Iroquois are very strong, and if we do not want these people to suffer with use as a bother as well we must leave at once.”