Jacob had put his hands deep in his jacket pocket. Mr. Wielemaker had Bob on his lap; the dog was heavy but he kept him nicely warm.
After a long silence, Mr. Wielemaker asked Jacob, ‘What do you think has become of the animals?’
Jacob did not answer for a moment but then he said quite frankly, ‘I don’t think they have much chance up there. After all...’
The farmer nodded. He knew what Jacob was going to say. The water would be too high now, even on the dike.
After an hour or so, Kees woke up.
‘Did you sleep well, lad?’ Jacob asked.
It took Kees a moment or so to realize where he was. Normally he felt refreshed when he woke up, but now his hands and feet were quite numb; he had a terrible backache and could hardly move. On top of that, he was exhausted. He tried to be brave but he hadn’t the strength.
Jacob could see what state he was in. And rescue wasn’t anywhere near—if ever it came at all.
‘Take Bob on your lap,’ he said. ‘He’ll act as a hot water bottle.’
Bob growled a little at being disturbed, but then licked Kees’s hands and shut his eyes again. Kees saw to it that he was tucked up well under his blanket.
‘Are you all right?’ Father asked.
Kees did not answer. He was dead tired. He envied Sjaantje for being able to sleep so soundly.
Jacob could see that Kees was losing courage. There was nothing left of the old, lively Kees; he was miserable and despondent. Something must be done about it, Jacob decided. His own hands and feet were ice-cold, and he, too, was dead tired, but he knew he had to help his young friend.
‘Are you awake, Kees?’ Jacob asked. Kees did not answer but Jacob could see that he was. He prodded Kees’s side. ‘Oi, Kees, say something. You’re not asleep, are you?’
‘No,’ Kees said curtly. You could hardly hear his voice against the sound of the storm and the water.
‘Well, I’m glad. I’m glad you’re awake, because I need your help.’ Kees could only just hear what Jacob was saying. How can I possibly help him, he thought indifferently.
‘I need a word,’ Jacob went on. ‘A six-letter word meaning enigma. Have you any idea what it could be?’
Kees listened to what Jacob was saying through a haze. He was not in the least interested. All he cared about was getting away from where they were and resting, resting in a good, soft, warm bed, or even on a haystack.
‘I’ve got it,’ he heard the voice next to him say. ‘The word is mystery.’ Mystery...Kees didn’t care. What were mysteries to him now. Mystery...
‘No, that’s wrong; “mystery” has seven letters,’ he suddenly said.
Kees was very surprised at himself. There he was doing crossword puzzles in spite of himself.
‘You’re wrong,’ Jacob said. ‘It has six letters.’
So Kees checked again. Jacob couldn’t count, he decided.
‘No, it has seven letters,’ he said, a bit louder, this time. ‘Oh,’ Jacob said, ‘could I have made a mistake after all?’ He spelled out the word and counted the number of letters on his fingers. ‘You’re quite right; I have made a mistake. Well, it has to be another word. Enigma in six letters. And I think the second letter is probably a u. Do try and think.’
By now Kees was fully awake.
‘A six-letter word meaning enigma, second letter u,’ he said to himself. ‘I’ve got it: it’s puzzle.’
‘Very good,’ Jacob said, full of admiration. ‘That’s it. I’m so glad you’re awake. I’ve been racking my brains for hours. Puzzle...of course. And now I want another word. Just let me look.’
‘How can you read the clues in the dark?’ Kees asked.
‘Oh, that’s easy. I can remember it from before. I’d almost finished the top left-hand corner. Now I’m doing the right side. We’ve just got to try and finish it in spite of the dark.’
Kees was too tired to realize that Jacob was making up his own clues, just to keep him interested. And the trick was working.
‘A drink with two f’s in the middle?’
‘Easy, that’s coffee,’ Kees answered in a flash but with a deep sigh.
‘Good, now I want a French definite article with two letters. But, then, you don’t know anything about French, do you?’
‘I do; what do you mean?’ Kees said rather crossly. ‘After all, I’ve been doing French for a year now.’
‘Stop showing off,’ Jacob chuckled and Kees joined in his laughter. His father listened without saying anything. He knew what game Jacob was playing with his son and he knew it was really no game, but a matter of life and death. He wondered whether his wife and Trui were listening. He looked round but all he could see was two motion-less figures. He decided they were still dozing and that it was better not to rouse them.
After a while, Kees complained again. ‘My leg hurts so much,’ he said. ‘It seems to be on fire.’ No wonder, they had been sitting in the same position for hours. Even though Jacob had done his best to make them comfortable, it was still very different from sitting in an arm-chair. Jacob pushed Bob, who had been lying on his lap, on to Mr. Wielemaker’s knees.
‘You’d better stand up,’ Father told Kees, ‘and stretch your legs to let the blood run right through your body. But be careful. I’ll hold on to you.’
He caught hold of Kees’s hands, and Kees made a great effort to stand up.
‘I can’t,’ he said, his voice trembling. ‘I just can’t stand up.’
Jacob tried to coax him.
‘Don’t worry. Of course, it isn’t easy. After all, your legs have been cramped and they’ve got to get used to being stretched out. Try again. You see, you can manage much better already. Don’t worry, I shan’t let go.’
At last Kees was standing up. His back was bent like a tired old man’s. He had terrible pins and needles all over his arms and legs. It was so bad that he wanted to scream out aloud, and he only just managed not to by biting his lower lip again.
Would it never stop raining? Kees felt as if someone behind him were emptying buckets of water over his back. He was cold all over, right into his bones. But standing up like this, with Jacob holding on to him, he could feel the blood gradually getting back into his feet. He would have liked to stamp them but he couldn’t lift them up. Then he tried to look round at Mother and Trui behind him. They’re probably asleep, he decided. They were sitting close together, with Sjaantje stretched out on their knees.
‘Are you all right, Kees?’ It was his mother’s voice. So she was awake after all. Suddenly he forgot his own misery. Hadn’t Mother and Trui gone through the same thing? And even if they were older, they were, after all, only women. A big boy ought to be able to take at least as much as they could.
‘Oh, I’m all right,’ he said as brightly as he could. ‘I’ve just got a bit stiff.’
Then there was silence again. Now and then Kees noticed white stripes in the gurgling flood waters. It was the spray of the waves. To the left, the horizon looked a little brighter. That was the east. If only we can weather the night, his father had said. Within an hour, or two hours at most, it would be daylight, and then someone was bound to come and take them off. Kees sat down again.
‘Better now?’ his father asked. Kees told him that the pain in his legs was better but he didn’t tell him that he was half frozen and that his fingers felt dead. When his father passed him a slice of sausage later, it dropped out of his hand.
‘I dropped it,’ he said, without further explanation. He was given another slice.
‘Hold on to it,’ his father said. ‘Pity to waste it,’
His fingers strangely crooked. Kees pushed it into his mouth and began to chew. It tasted delicious. Suddenly he realized that he was hungry.
‘Is there any more?’ he asked. Mr. Wielemaker gave him a large hunk of bread out of the box. There wasn’t any butter but, all the same, Kees had never eaten bread that tasted better.
The smell of food woke Bob up. He sniffed at Mr. Wielemake
r’s hands and at the blanket.
‘There you are, you’ve deserved it.’
Kees could hear Bob chewing and swallowing. All the others, as well, wanted to eat now.
‘Let’s have some milk first,’ Trui said. ‘Jacob, pass it, please. You’re nearest.’
They all drank out of the same mug. They felt better for the milk, but it was only now that they noticed how really tired they were. Mother and Trui hadn’t slept a wink all night, and their bodies were craving for rest. But it was very dangerous for the grown-ups to fall asleep sitting here, even though they had all tied themselves to one another for safety.
Then Jacob said, ‘I’ll tell you a story. I read it in an illustrated magazine some time ago. I’m not very good at telling stories; still, I think you’ll like it. Listen.’
It was a story he could not remember very clearly and he made up large chunks of it as he went along, up there in the dark, on the cold windy roof of the farmhouse. He told it to keep the others awake, while he himself was quite stiff from cold and so tired that he could hardly keep his eyes open.
‘What I am going to tell you took place a long time ago, when Napoleon was Emperor of Germany,’ said Jacob.
‘Of France, you mean,’ Kees said.
‘Yes, you’re quite right, of France. You know I was never top of my class in history, so you mustn’t mind me. Well, this Napoleon was quite a fellow, as you know, and his troops were very devoted to him. You see, to them he was not only a good general but also a true friend.
‘One day, one of the soldiers heard that his wife had given him a son. What do you think happened? Well, as soon as the Emperor was told, he gave the soldier two days’ leave. When the soldier got home, he found a great, big iced cake there with a message: “Congratulations from the Emperor”.
‘Napoleon knew much more about his soldiers than they ever suspected. Do you know what he used to do quite often? He would change into civilian clothes and mix with the people. Nobody knew who he was, and in this way he heard a great many things which he would never have known otherwise. One day, some soldiers were sitting in an inn drinking beer. Suddenly the door opened and a gentleman came in. He sat down at a table and ordered a bottle of Coca-Cola.’
‘They didn’t have Coca-Cola in those days,’ Kees said.
‘Well, he ordered something else, then, if you insist. He emptied his glass quite slowly and listened to the conversation of the soldiers who were drinking away happily. As time went on, one after the other left the inn, so that in the end there was only one soldier left, who ordered another beer.
‘“Well, my friend,” the stranger said, “you seem to have a fair amount of money. You’ve had quite a lot to drink already.”
‘“Well, sir, you wouldn’t understand,” the soldier replied. “Soldiering makes you thirsty and now and then you just have to wet your whistle.”
‘The stranger took his glass and sat down at the soldier’s table.
‘“I see you serve in the Imperial Army. Do you like it?”
‘“It’s not too bad,” the soldier said, “but I wish the Emperor weren’t so mean with his money.”
‘“How so?” asked the stranger, who was of course none other than the Emperor himself.
‘“What I mean is he doesn’t give us enough pay.”
‘“Well, you, for one, seem to have too much, what with all the beer you’ve been drinking. How do you manage?” ‘The soldier winked at him slyly.
‘“Can you keep a secret, sir?” He looked round cautiously. ‘“Of course I can. Let’s hear it,” said the Emperor.
‘“When I get through my pay, I take my sword to the pawnshop and get some money for it. When I’m paid again I go back for it. See?” He slapped his thigh and laughed uproariously.
‘“That’s very clever of you,” said Napoleon, who was enjoying himself immensely. “But don’t your officers notice that you haven’t got your sword?”
‘The soldier grinned at him. “I can see you’re not very sharp,” he said. “Do you notice anything peculiar about me?” He stood up so that the Emperor could take a good look at him.
‘“No,” Napoleon said, “I can’t say that I do.”
‘“There you are; now just look at this.” He seized the hilt of his sword and pulled it out of its sheath. To his surprise, the Emperor saw that there was no blade attached to the hilt—merely a wooden stick.
‘“You see,” said Gaston, (for that was his name), “nobody can possibly tell that my sword is in the pawnshop.”
‘The Emperor praised Gaston for his ingenuity. “But what would happen if the Emperor himself were to make a surprise inspection?”
‘The soldier scratched his ear. “We always have warning before an inspection, and even if we didn’t, I’d still have time to get my sword back.”
‘“But what if you didn’t have time?”
‘“The Emperor would never notice, anyway. It’s all right, sir—I’ve thought about it quite a lot. No officer has ever caught me, so why should the Emperor?”‘
Jacob had to light his cigarette again because it had gone out. ‘He’s sure to get caught out now,’ Kees said.
Jacob went on: ‘That same afternoon, the soldiers were having their tea, when a young captain rushed in all of a dither and called out, “Inspection in quarter of an hour’s time. The Emperor himself is coming.”
‘Well, you can understand that they all got in a flap. It meant they had just fifteen minutes to go on parade, with their boots polished, their buttons gleaming, their rifles oiled and all the rest of it. Gaston was particularly upset because he had no time to go to the pawnshop, just after he had boasted to a stranger that he would never be caught, too! Well, there was nothing for it now but to hope that the Emperor wouldn’t notice. After all, it wasn’t very likely that he would....Still, he would have been happier if he had had the real sword instead of the stick.
‘A quarter of an hour later, Gaston was smartly on parade with his friend Georges to his left and his friend Louis to his right.
‘The Emperor appeared, wearing his field-marshal’s uniform and three-cornered hat. Gaston did not recognize him at all as the gentleman to whom he had been talking earlier in the day.
‘The Emperor soon discovered him in the ranks, though he pretended not to know him. Napoleon inspected the ranks with a friendly smile, and looked completely satisfied. The sergeant major, on the other hand, looked very nervous and worried because he knew that you couldn’t expect a company to look very smart at fifteen minutes’ notice. Still, everything seemed to be going pretty well.
‘Suddenly Napoleon’s face went red with anger. He was standing in front of Georges, Gaston’s friend, and gave him a furious look.
‘“You there,” the Emperor roared, “aren’t you ashamed to appear in front of me like this? Is this how you maintain the honour of the Army—with a button that hasn’t been cleaned for a whole year, eh?”
‘He then turned to Gaston on Georges’s right and said, “You, soldier, draw your sword and cut off this slovenly fellow’s head at once. He has no right to live a moment longer.”
‘Gaston paled and stared at the Emperor.
‘“Your Majesty,” he stammered, “I cannot do it. Georges is my best friend.”
‘“How dare you refuse my orders! Do you want your head cut off, too?” the Emperor thundered. “For the last time, draw your sword and chop off his head.”
‘Gaston realized that there was only one thing to do. “Your Majesty,” he said, “if these are your orders, I shall carry them out, but before doing it I shall pray for a miracle. May my sword be turned into wood and my friend thus be spared.”
‘He drew his sword and, to everyone’s amazement, brought up a piece of wood.
‘The Emperor roared with laughter, and that evening he told the Empress the whole story. Gaston, to his surprise, received a beautiful new sword with a gold hilt next day. There was a note with it, saying, “They’ll give you more for this one at the
pawnshop.” Gaston then realized what had happened. From that day on, he was the Emperor’s most loyal and devoted soldier.’
CHAPTER NINE — Another day dawns
Kees had listened with his mouth wide open. While Jacob had been telling the story, he had completely forgotten their predicament.
‘Another half hour gained,’ Jacob said to himself. There was nothing he wanted more than to shut his eyes and go to sleep. While he had been telling the story, a bright line had slowly appeared in the east, and now there was a pale glow over the landscape.
A new day had dawned: Monday, February the 2nd, 1953.
The six of them were sitting on the roof, silently looking at the dim outlines of their surroundings in the pale dawn. The first thing they saw was that the water had crept up further still. Now it covered the guttering of the roof. The door of the cowshed had disappeared; the shed was completely under water now.
Over on the right, a black object floated towards them. When it was quite close, they saw it was a dead horse, being sucked out to sea. Kees was reminded of Witje and swallowed hard to get rid of the lump in his throat.
The wind had let up and it had stopped raining. But they were feeling the cold as badly as ever.
All their limbs were completely numb. Their backs were stiff from sitting down for so long. It was now twelve hours since they had moved up to their little refuge. They knew they ought to be grateful that nothing worse had happened to them. Kees tried hard to be brave about it all. He stroked Bob’s head, while Bob looked at him sadly. He, too, was fed up with the whole thing.
Each of them stood up in turn to stretch his legs, while the others held on tight. Mrs. Wielemaker found it particularly difficult to stand; her husband and Jacob had to help her up. Kees noticed how grey and tired they all looked.
Trui said, ‘If only we had a hot cup of coffee.’ As soon as she said it, she was sorry that she had made the others’ mouths water. Kees tried to imagine what it would be like to have a hot cup of coffee in his frozen hands. The very thought made him dizzy.
The Tide in the Attic Page 7