Mendelevski's Box

by Roger Swindells

  He ran back to her screaming, ‘Maaike, Maaike, I’ve found it, it’s here! The doors, the windows, the house opposite, even the little room at the top where father tried to work on watches, it’s all there. It’s definitely the place. Quickly come and see.’

  They walked back down the alley and stood outside the double doors. Above was a faded sign with yellow lettering still just legible as ‘A.F. de Jong & Zonen’.

  He tried the small door, the paint was peeling but it was securely locked. Looking at the filthy tattered curtains, the upper floors were obviously unoccupied so knocking was useless.

  ‘What do we do now?’

  ‘I need to find someone to ask about who owns this place, maybe they hid us, maybe they betrayed us. I need to get inside.’

  ‘What are you hoping to find?’

  ‘I don’t know, I just need to do it.’

  ‘But there’s no one around, let’s go, I have to get to the bank. You can do it any time now you know where it is.’

  There was at least a two hour wait at the bank so they went straight on to work arriving at Café van Loon just before four.

  Jos was behind the bar himself. There was no sign of his wife or any customers for that matter, with just a solitary regular on the first stool inside the door. ‘Hello you two, you’re early, Maaike, it’s going to be a quiet evening in here I think. They all spent their old money last night, I took twice as much as usual but tonight no one wants to part with their precious new ten guilders, if they’ve even got any new money yet that is.’

  ‘They do have to make it last a week. It seems crazy to me, how is it going to work?’ She looked worried. ‘I haven’t got my new money yet, the bank was too busy.’

  He winked at her. ‘Don’t you worry, I’ll see you alright.’

  ‘But I’ve got more than ten old guilders. I’ve got twenty-five because Grietje Blok paid me in old money.’

  ‘I told you, don’t worry, there are ways and means you know, and you, young fellow, you’ve got no money to change have you?’

  ‘No, and I don’t expect you can pay me yet, people are saying everything will be delayed by a week.’

  ‘I told you, I’ll see you alright, both of you.’

  He reached under the bar and took out a thick leather wallet. ‘Right, here we are, twenty guilders for you, Maaike, and twenty for you, Simon.’

  To their surprise he handed each of them two new five-guilder notes and four new two-and-a half guilder coins.

  ‘But this is too much, more than my usual wages, how did you…?’

  ‘I told you, ways and means. I sold all my excess old guilders, the ones the tax man doesn’t need to know about, at a two for one rate. There are those who are buying them and who have their own ways of getting around the controls. The black marketeers are making even more money out of the government’s plan to stop black money. It’s crazy. There’s been a delay in producing other denominations of the new notes and coins apparently. The British are doing the notes, and they and the Yanks the coins, so it may go on a while. Call it a bonus. Now give me your old notes.’ With that he produced yet more new notes and coins from the wallet. ‘I’ll change yours on a straight one for one basis Maaike, here you are, twenty-five guilders in our sparkling brand new currency. They said they would release my bank account in a week as it’s all in order.’ He laughed. ‘Jos van Loon is officially totally honest, and his money is completely clean so there will be no problem with next week’s wages.’

  ‘Thank you, I told Maaike you’d look after us somehow.’

  ‘Just make sure you keep it to yourselves. Now come on you, we have work to do in the cellar, this morning’s delivery still needs stacking away. Maaike, you can manage up here, somehow I don’t expect a rush. I’ll still accept old notes but the beer price if they pay with old ones is double, alright?’

  Down in the cellar they shifted all the crates, stacking them neatly against the back wall, making sure to cover a square metal plate set in the floor.

  ‘I’ve got a few valuables down there, I went in for a little gold, jewellery and things when the Nazi’s withdrew the one hundred guilder notes a month or so ago. Everyone was doing it. Not a word to my wife though, our secret eh? I’m trusting you now.’

  ‘Of course. Now can I tell you something? You might be able to help.’ He told him about finding the place in Kromme Palmstraat and explained he was trying to find out who owned it or who might have arranged for his family to use it.

  ‘I’ll ask around for you, I know a man who runs a bar on Palmgracht. Oh, and while you’re here, take these.’ He handed him a razor and strop. ‘As you can see I haven’t used them in a while.’

  He was right, there were no more than three customers all night. One, a regular with a drink problem, tried to spend his precious ten guilders in new currency but Jos, in yet another act of generosity, refused to take his money and extended him credit, telling him he could pay in a week.

  The bar was empty by eight and Jos sent them home. Maaike was relieved to have new currency in her bag and he was just relieved to have money of any sort. They discussed going to the Waterlooplein market together to get him a change of clothes and shoes but as she looked after Irene every day it was decided he would have to go alone.

  ‘You’d better discuss it with Grietje first though,’ she smiled, ‘I have the distinct feeling she might want to go with you and supervise her little boy.’

  He left her at the door and ran up the stairs, anxious to tell Grietje about finding the hiding place and to finally pay her some rent.

  Friday 28th September 1945

  Maaike had been quite right, Grietje insisted on coming with him to Waterlooplein to look for clothes. In fairness she argued that she would be much better at bargaining than him, pointing out that he had never tangled with the Waterlooplein dealers before. He’d told her all about finding the hiding place in Kromme Palmstraat. She seemed pleased but she clearly wasn’t as excited or as enthusiastic as him, merely asking what he intended to do next and saying she hoped it would put an end to his obsession. She had refused his offer of rent or housekeeping saying she would wait until the following week when he got his second week’s wages.

  As soon as she had dropped Irene off with Maaike they set off for Waterlooplein.

  ‘I don’t have to be at work until noon today, so we have plenty of time to look around the market, there might not be the choice there used to be and there will be a lot of rubbish. We can’t have you looking worse than you already do.’

  ‘At least I’ve had a proper shave thanks to Jos.’

  ‘And taken half your face off too by the look of it!’

  ‘Maaike and Jos both laughed at me last night, but at least it looks better than it did yesterday morning.’

  ‘It’s finally stopped bleeding you mean. Come on, let’s go, we’ll walk rather than spend money on the tram.’

  They made their way across to Kloveniersburgwal via Oudemanhuispoort. Only two or three of the booksellers were open. The passageway with its numerous lockable alcoves stacked with second-hand books was somewhere that fascinated him and he had spent many hours there as a student before the war, searching for medical books as he dreamed of becoming a doctor.

  Crossing the bridge at the end of Staalstraat they arrived at the market. It didn’t look to him as large as it had before the war. There were certainly fewer traders but the shortages and hardships brought out those in search of cheap goods, particularly clothes it seemed, in large numbers despite the monetary limit the change of currency had imposed.

  ‘I bet these poor devils will be paying with the old zinc rubbish, half of them don’t look like they have ten guilders to change into the new money.’

  They approached a pile of clothes on the ground.

  ‘This is no good, half of it is just army boots and greatcoats, let’s move on.’

  They found another pile and, elbowing her way through a crowd of women to the front, she pulled out five shirt
s and three pairs of trousers. ‘These don’t look too bad, nothing a good hot wash and iron won’t put right. Here, hold them up against you.’

  He did as he was told. One of the pairs of trousers was far too short so she dived back into the pile again, emerging with another pair and a leather belt.

  ‘Right, these will do, now let me go and sort out a price. Give me some money, the new coins not the notes, he can’t have change, there’s nothing smaller than two and a half and I don’t want the old zinc stuff. Then we’ll look for shoes.’

  As promised she got the shirts and trousers for a good price and in lieu of change the seller threw in some underwear, socks and a scarf. ‘That’s how you do it, come on, shoes next.’

  He grimaced. ‘I’m not sure about the underwear.’

  ‘It’ll be fine, I’ll boil them, don’t worry, beggars can’t be choosers.’

  The pile of old, worn and odd shoes looked a real challenge, many were worse than the ones he was wearing. Eventually, after much hunting for the left shoe, she found a pair of the right size in black leather, newly re-heeled but lacking laces. He tried them on, surprised at the good condition and quality. He guessed they had been looted from a Jewish house nearby.

  She secured the purchase with a handful of old coins and his old shoes in exchange and then deftly removed and quickly pocketed the laces from another pair of shoes in the pile. ‘Right, that’ll do for today, I’ll get these washed and ironed for you. You’ll have to get a coat, maybe an ex-army one, when winter comes. That jacket of Jaap’s will have to do for now.’

  He checked the latest Red Cross lists while they were in the area but there was still no mention of his mother or sister. The list of those confirmed dead had grown, which should have given him hope, but the list of known survivors was still less than half a page.

  ‘Shall we go and see Bart?’

  ‘No, we won’t, he’ll probably want to grab my arse again, you can see him the next time you’re over here. Come on, I have to get to work.’

  They set off for the Jordaan.

  ‘Put the underwear in the bucket in the kitchen, boil the kettle and leave them to soak, I’ll take the shirts and trousers round to the woman for washing when I get home. Tell Maaike it will be about five and ask her to feed Irene for me.’

  She gave him the clothes to take back to Slootstraat and left him on Prinsengracht.

  He hurried through the small side streets, very conscious of the bundle of dirty second-hand clothes over his arm. He was embarrassed about the clothing and took it straight upstairs before calling on Maaike.

  She opened the door almost before he knocked, ‘Simon, hello, I saw you coming down the street but then I heard you going upstairs, I hoped you would drop in. Please come inside quietly, Irene is sleeping. Have you eaten yet?’

  ‘No, I was going to buy something on the way back but I only have the two and a half guilder coins so I didn’t know how I would get change. How is anyone managing with the new money?’

  ‘I don’t think they are, it will probably be quiet at work again this evening unless Jos gives everyone credit. How did you get on at the market this morning? I noticed you were carrying clothes and you have smart new shoes.’

  ‘The clothes are rather dirty but Grietje is going to get them laundered and ironed for me, better than the clothes in the camp I suppose.’

  ‘Cheer up, they’ll look nice when they’re washed. Everyone is badly dressed at the moment, some clothes are still on ration so it’s difficult and if you don’t even have a ration book, like you, then it’s even worse. I’ve just got hold of a pair of overalls from a girl who worked at the tram depot. I’m altering them to fit, women are wearing trousers these days you know. I’m not sure how I’ll look but I’ll give them a try.’

  ‘You’ll look lovely, I’m sure. I quite like the shoes, they’re comfortable and not full of holes but Grietje had trouble finding a pair.’

  ‘It’s much easier if you only need one like me,’ she laughed and looked down at her single foot. ‘I’m sorry I don’t have coffee, I need to go shopping. I hope Grietje isn’t late home.’

  ‘She said five and please can you feed Irene. Don’t worry about coffee, I’m going up to Palmgracht to have another look around.’

  She looked disappointed. ‘I’ll see you at work at six then.’

  He made his way to Kromme Palmstraat. The premises were still deserted with the large double doors closed. He noticed the windows had heavy dark drapes behind the dirty grey lace curtains, something else he remembered. They had lived mainly on the first floor and at the back of the house to not show any light, but he and his sister had often crept to the front to steal a look at the street through the curtains. He hadn’t noticed it before, but he could just make out the name ‘Smit’ in faded fancy script on the front door and the number 3b on a blue and white enamel plate next to it. He hammered on the door without any response.

  ‘There’s nobody there, it’s been empty for years.’

  He turned to see a woman standing at the door of the house opposite.

  ‘There were some Jews hiding there in the war, but the Germans arrested them one night. Someone used to visit while they were there and for a day or so after they were taken, but I haven’t seen him for ages. The stable has been rented out for three or four years, I think it’s used as a store. A man in a car comes occasionally.’

  ‘Thank you, I was looking for a friend, that’s all,’ he excused himself.

  The woman went inside and he looked through the crack between the two big doors. As she had said, it was an old stable. The cobbled floor was worn with two distinct grooves from the movements of cart wheels over the years. The walls and low roof were originally whitewashed and there were four stalls on each side, half of which were filled with furniture and packing cases.

  He moved away, conscious of the eyes watching him from behind the curtains opposite, and made his way slowly to work.

  Jos greeted him from behind the bar. Once again there was no sign of his wife or of any customers. ‘Hello Simon, very prompt as usual.’

  ‘It’s quiet again here.’

  ‘Normal for a weekday afternoon, it’ll pick up when they leave work and drop in for a beer on the way home, I hope so anyway. Same as yesterday if they want to pay with old notes, then it’s double the price. I’ll take them, but it will cost me to get rid. No zinc stuff either and if old Hendrik or Daft Willem look like throwing their new money about try to keep them to three or four beers, make a note and give the silly buggers credit. You can manage until Maaike gets here, can’t you?’

  ‘As long as I can add the tabs up, no problem.’

  ‘Good lad, I’ll be down the cellar keeping out of her way.’ He looked up at the ceiling. ‘Oh, and while I remember, I might just have found someone who can help you about the time you were in hiding, but no promises.’

  ‘That would be wonderful, thank you.’ He started washing glasses and putting out clean beer mats with a long overdue smile on his face.

  Maaike arrived at exactly six. There were a few more customers, some at the bar and two upstairs, but he had managed on his own although he wasn’t sure they realised Jos had put the prices up yet.

  ‘On your own?’

  ‘He’s down the cellar having a drink and counting his money I guess. It’s been quiet, and I managed alright, you are a good teacher.’

  He took her coat while she settled herself on the stool, then he told her about his visit to the house and stable, the neighbour and Jos thinking he had found someone to help.

  ‘That’s good, but where do you think it will take you?’

  ‘I’m not sure, but I just have to know how we were betrayed and who by, it’s eating away at me and I owe it to my family.’ He suddenly looked sad. ‘Esther was only eleven.’

  ‘Esther, what a nice name. You’ve never told me her name, in fact you’ve hardly mentioned her before.’

  ‘I’m sorry, it’s just too painful. She was m
y little sister, I should have looked after her and mother. They were separated from my father and me when we arrived there on the train. I never saw them again. If they are dead, and I fear they must be, I hope they didn’t suffer for weeks or months or worse.’

  She stood down from the stool and hopped to him, putting her arms around him. ‘I don’t know what I can say, but I will be here for you.’

  The doors opened and ‘Daft Willem’ came in, took his normal stool and ordered a beer and a jenever, bending to sip the gin from the glass as it stood brimful on the bar.

  ‘Goedenavond Maaike, goedenavond Simon.’

  ‘Hello Willem, what have you been doing today?’

  ‘Waiting at the palace as usual to speak to Wilhelmina about beer prices.’

  She desperately tried to stifle her laughter and he made an excuse and headed for the cellar.

  They walked home together along the canal as usual.

  ‘It’s Saturday tomorrow, I start work earlier and work all day. I really must spend more time with Grietje somehow, she’s been so good to me. She’s not working on Sunday—perhaps I can spend the day with her and Irene.’

  ‘She’d like that, I know she wants to spend more time with you too. We often have lunch together on Sundays and she likes to go to the park in the afternoon.’

  ‘I just wish she had taken some money from me for my keep. Jos gave me twenty guilders after all, and the clothes were not as expensive as I was afraid they would be.’

  ‘You could pay for some of the shopping at the market tomorrow, if she sends you again.’

  ‘Yes, that’s a really good idea, and I could buy her flowers too perhaps.’

  Saturday 29th September 1945

  He rose early, anxious to go to the market before work. Grietje was up and about making coffee and breakfast for Irene when he came through to the kitchen.