Amanda in Holland

by Foster, Darlene;

  When the food arrived, her eyes almost popped out of her head. A massive meatball sat on top of the mashed vegetables. “Wow! That meatball is the size of a baseball!” She cut off a chunk and took a bite. “It sure tastes good.”

  After they all enjoyed the fantastic dinner, Mr. Anderson asked, “Are we ready to go, or do you want dessert?”

  Amanda looked around. “I should find the bathroom first.”

  “There is a sign over there.” Mr. Anderson pointed. “It looks like you have to go up some stairs.”

  Amanda followed the signs that took her upstairs, around a corner and down a hallway. Other rooms set up for diners lined the corridor. She couldn’t help peering in. Every room had its own style and atmosphere. They all looked inviting, like visiting a friend’s house. Along the walls were more paintings, plates and artefacts. She stopped to look at mannequins of a boy and a girl dressed in black-and-red outfits. The girl wore a traditional white bonnet with wings on each side. Beside them hung pictures of children from the orphanage, all wearing the same black-and-red uniforms. A sign explained how the boys were taught a trade and the girls learned domestic skills. Most went on to lead successful and happy lives. Amanda thought about how awful it would be to be an orphan, but at least it looked like they were treated well.

  She looked around and couldn’t see any signs for the washrooms.

  “Oh boy, where am I?”

  She approached a closed door that looked like it could lead to a bathroom. She pulled the door open and gasped. An angry woman stood on the other side.

  “What are you doing in here?” The woman scowled. She looked familiar.

  “I—I’m sorry. I thought this was the washroom.”

  “Is there a sign on the door that says toilet?”

  “Well, no.” Amanda backed away. Behind the woman, she could see boxes piled high. “I guess I got lost.”

  “The toilets are around the corner and to your left.” The woman slammed the door.

  Amanda heard a key turning in the lock. She followed the instructions and managed to find the bathroom and her way back to the main dining room.

  “This place is a maze. It’s like a number of houses joined together. It’s so interesting! What’s for dessert?”

  She took a bite of her apple pie and suddenly realized the angry woman in the room upstairs looked a lot like the one who almost ran into her on her bike the first day in Amsterdam. She wondered what she was up to in that room and what was in those boxes.

  “Earth calling Amanda.” Leah leaned over and looked directly in her face.

  “Wh-what?”

  “You seemed miles away. Dad was asking if you wanted to go to a wooden-shoe factory tomorrow morning while he’s at his meeting.”

  Amanda’s eyes lit up. “That would be great! Of course, I’d love to do that.” She gave Leah’s father a huge smile. “Thanks!”

  12

  AMANDA TOSSED AND TURNED. SHE COULDN’T SLEEP—HER brain was churning with unanswered questions. What was the connection between Jan, Tom and Ingrid? Why did the lady on the bike keep turning up? What about Lisa from the cheese shop? Where did Joey come from, and why was Tom asking about him?

  The next morning after breakfast, Mr. Anderson dropped the girls off at a small museum that included a wooden-shoe factory. He took Joey in the car with him.

  Amanda read the sign at the desk while Leah paid for two tickets. The admission included a demonstration on making klompen, the Dutch word for wooden shoes. “The next demonstration is about to start,” she said when Leah handed her a ticket. “Let’s get a seat.”

  A friendly fellow holding two blocks of wood stood in front of the group.

  “Welkom. My name is Eric. I am going to show you how I can turn these two blocks of wood into a pair of good-looking and practical shoes.” He looked straight at Amanda. “You don’t believe me that I can do this, do you?”

  Amanda blushed.

  “Well, watch and I will show you how it is done—without using magic.” He winked.

  Leah giggled and leaned over to whisper in Amanda’s ear. “I like this guy. He’s funny.”

  “Klompen, or wooden shoes, have been around in Holland for over eight hundred years. These sturdy shoes protect the feet of agricultural workers from mud and wet and injury from sharp tools or heavy animals standing on your feet,” Eric explained as he positioned a block onto a machine beside him. “When wearing wooden shoes you will never have sweaty feet, because of the natural ventilation of the wood. They are easy to clean and very easy to get in and out of without losing time. And last, the most important thing for us Dutch, the wooden shoe is very cheap footwear which also lasts forever.”

  People in the audience chuckled.

  Eric took the second block and held it up. “Wood from the yellow poplar, or tulip tree, is used to make klompen. It is light, easy to work with and naturally water resistant, perfect for the marshy fields here in the Netherlands.”

  He placed the second block in the machine. “Years ago the blocks of wood, called blanks, were shaped by hand with a knife, but now we have a machine called a shaper that does the work.”

  Eric turned the machine on and the blocks spun around beneath circular saws, much like the way a key is cut. The smell of freshly cut lumber filled the room. He stepped back as bits of wood spurted out.

  Eric turned to the audience and flapped his arms like a bird. “The wood chips always like to fly.”

  Everyone laughed at his antics.

  After a few minutes, he turned the machine off. He removed the clog-shaped wood, holding it up as proud as could be, and then took a bow as everyone clapped.

  He took the clogs over to another machine and placed them on their heels. The machine cleaned out the insides with a tool that looked like an ice-cream scoop. More shavings flew. He took the hollowed-out shoe over to a bench with a long, narrow knife attached to it. There, he trimmed the front and the heel with the blade to give it more shape.

  He held the shoe up and explained, “At this point, we hang it up and let it dry for about two weeks to get nice and hard. Then, we sand and paint them. We have many of these shoes in the gift shop. They make a nice gift to take home. And if you get tired of wearing it, the wooden shoe can be recycled, used as a boat for children to play with or a pot to plant in, or it can be burnt in a fire to keep you warm.”

  He looked at Amanda and grinned. “So what do you think?”

  “I think they are so cool! Do they come in different sizes?”

  “Of course. Each blank is cut for a certain size.” He placed a finger in the back of the shoe. “If there is room for your finger to fit between the back of the shoe and your foot, it is the right size.”

  “I think I need to buy a pair to take home.” Amanda jumped up from her seat. “Thank you so much for your great demonstration, Eric!”

  The girls had a quick look through the small museum. They then went into the gift shop and tried on klompen.

  “There are so many to pick from. I don’t think I’ll be able to make up my mind.” Amanda slipped her foot into a bright-yellow shoe with tulips painted on the front.

  “You’ll never wear them.” Leah ran her finger along the edge of a blue one painted with a windmill. “Mum bought me a pair like this when I was eight, but they just sat on my dresser.”

  “I know, but they will make a fab souvenir. Remember when we went cowboy-boot shopping when you visited me in Alberta?”

  “Now that was fun. And I do wear those boots. My friends back home in London are so jealous!” Leah grinned. “If you’re going to buy a pair, you’d better make up your mind. Dad should be along shortly to pick us up.”

  Amanda decided on a red pair sporting a windmill with tulips surrounding it. “These will remind me of our visit to the Keukenhof Gardens, even if I don’t ever wear them.”

  After she paid for her purchase, Amanda joined Leah in front of the factory to wait for Mr. Anderson. Leah pointed into the distance. “I
wonder what that is.”

  “It looks like a tall building, maybe a hotel or apartment block. Oh my gosh, it looks like there are people swinging from the top of it!”

  Just then, Leah’s father pulled up. Leah scooted into the front seat and Amanda joined Joey in the back.

  “Dad, can we go to that building over there? It looks like there are swings on the top of it.”

  Mr. Anderson glanced across the water. “Oh, that’s the A’DAM Lookout. It’s very new. I think it just recently opened. Apparently, it has Europe’s highest swing. There’s a revolving restaurant on top with great views of the city. We could have lunch there. I sure could use a nice break.” He changed lanes and turned to cross a bridge.

  Mr. Anderson parked the car in the underground parking lot of the tower.

  “What about Joey?” Amanda asked. “Should we bring him along?”

  “No. He’ll be fine in the car. It’s quite cool down here and I’ll leave the windows open enough. We won’t be very long.”

  Joey looked up at them with molten-brown eyes, and Amanda felt a pang in her heart as she patted and reassured him. “Bye, Joey. We’ll be right back.”

  They entered a space-age looking elevator and Leah hit the button for A’DAM Lookout. Amanda’s stomach dropped as they were whisked up to the top at breakneck speed. It felt like a ride at the fairground. The doors opened, and they stepped out to an observation deck.

  “Wow! What amazing views of the city! It’s kind of like the London Eye,” Amanda exclaimed.

  Bright-red swings hung from curved steel girders on the edge of the roof.

  “Dad, can we please go on the swing?” begged Leah.

  Mr. Anderson read a sign for the Over the Edge swing. “It says here the platform is one hundred meters above sea level. Are you sure you want to swing out from here?” He raised his eyebrows.

  “Oh, yes! It would be totally brill.” Leah turned to Amanda. “What do you think?”

  “Um…” Amanda gulped. “It looks like you need to be 1.3 metres tall to go on it. I might be too short.” Amanda stared at the sign, not sure if she was pleased or disappointed.

  “How tall are you?” asked Leah.

  “I’m 4 foot 7 inches.”

  “By my calculations, that’s 1.39 metres.” Mr. Anderson pulled out his wallet. “So you are good to go.” He paid the five euros for each ticket.

  Amanda’s tummy did somersaults as she watched the couple in front of them fly out from the platform. “What have I got myself into?” she mumbled as the staff member buckled her into the harness attached to the swing.

  “You OK, Amanda?” asked Leah as she was buckled in beside her.

  “S-sure.” Amanda grimaced.

  “Here we go!”

  The staff gave the two-seated swing a push over the ledge, and Amanda felt her stomach drop for the second time that day. She squeezed her eyes shut.

  Leah shouted, “Amanda, open your eyes! The view is brilliant, and it feels like we’re flying.”

  Amanda slowly opened her eyes. She gasped. Above her was nothing but fluffy white clouds, and below her was the city. She felt she had sprouted wings. The blue canals separated the land like a jigsaw puzzle. Green splotches of parks stood between tall buildings. Pointy church steeples reached up toward them. “This is crazy. I can’t believe I’m actually doing this. I feel like I’m flying on Harry Potter’s Hippogriff.”

  13

  Amanda’s legs felt like Jell-O when she got off the swing.

  “Are you all right?” asked Leah.

  “I’m OK. It was just a bit scary, that’s all.”

  “But you have to admit, it was magic!”

  “Oh, yes. It was incredible. I’m glad we did it. Can’t wait to tell my friends back home.” Amanda turned to Leah’s dad. “Did you get any pictures?”

  “I did. In fact I videoed it.” He held up his phone. “We’ll send it to your parents.”

  “Mom will freak when she sees it.” Amanda felt giddy. “Maybe we should have lunch now.”

  “Good idea.” Mr. Anderson led them to a restaurant enclosed in glass.

  “It doesn’t matter where we sit. We will have a fab view.” Leah glowed with excitement.

  After lunch, they took the elevator back down to the parking garage.

  As they passed a row of bike racks near the car, Mr. Anderson paled. “Och! What the devil! Looks like someone has broken into the car.” The left side window was smashed. Shattered glass lay everywhere.

  Amanda ran to the car. “Joey!” She looked inside. “No! He’s gone. Someone stole Joey.” She covered her mouth with both hands.

  “That can’t be.” Leah pushed her aside and looked through the open window. “He isn’t in here.” She shook her head. “Who would do such a thing?”

  Mr. Anderson called the rental company.

  Amanda pressed her fists against her eyes, but big, sloppy tears gushed out of the corners anyway. Her body shook. Leah put her arms around her. “Don’t worry. We’ll find him. He probably got scared and jumped out. Come, let’s look around the carpark. He might be hiding somewhere.”

  The girls looked everywhere, calling Joey’s name. But he was nowhere to be found. Sometime later, when they returned to the car, two police officers were asking Mr. Anderson questions and taking notes.

  “The funny thing is, nothing else is missing from the car. Even my laptop is still here. It’s as if all they wanted was the dog.”

  “Was it a valuable dog?” asked one of the officers.

  “I don’t believe so,” answered Leah’s father. “The girls found it by a dustbin.”

  “So it wasn’t your dog then?”

  “Well, no. We are trying to find it a home. The shelters were all full and didn’t want to take him when I contacted them.”

  Amanda fought back tears and looked down at her feet. In amongst the bits of glass, she saw red specks. She bent down to investigate.

  “Amanda, don’t touch the glass. You could cut yourself.” Mr. Anderson drew his eyebrows together and went back to talking to the officers.

  She nudged Leah and pointed to the red spots. The girls followed the specks to the exit.

  “I’m afraid Joey hurt himself.” Amanda swallowed. “Maybe he stepped on a piece of glass.”

  “Or maybe the culprit who smashed the window cut himself on the jagged edge,” said Leah. “We’d better get back.”

  Amanda spotted something orange near a cement support post. She walked over and picked it up. It looked like a piece of reflective plastic. Maybe from a bicycle. She slipped it into her jeans pocket just as Leah called.

  “Hurry. The new rental car is here, and Dad wants to leave.”

  One police officer was about to join his colleague in the car when Amanda asked him, “Will you be able to find Joey?”

  He frowned. “We will try, but Amsterdam is a big place, and many dogs go missing every day. What did he look like? We can ask at the shelters if a dog that looks like him has been handed in.”

  “Well, he is white with a few black spots. His face is white, brown and black and he has soft, floppy brown ears. He has huge brown eyes.” Her eyes filled with tears. “He is really cute.” A tear escaped and rolled down her cheek.

  The police officer closed his notepad and patted her on the shoulder. “We will see what we can do.” He sighed and got in the car.

  The girls climbed into the backseat of the replacement rental, and Leah put her arm around her shaking friend. “We’ll find Joey. Don’t worry.”

  “It’s true what the officer said, Amsterdam is a big city. How will we ever find him?”

  “Seat belts, girls,” said Mr. Anderson as he started the car. “What a bother. This day can’t get any worse.” His phone rang, but he ignored it.

  They returned to the hotel, where Leah’s dad worked on his phone and laptop.

  Amanda glanced at Leah. “We can’t just sit here and do nothing. We have to try to find Joey.”

  Le
ah put down her fashion magazine. “Dad, we’re going outside for a walk. It’s stuffy in here.”

  Mr. Anderson looked up from his computer. “A good idea. The flower market is near here. You might enjoy that.” He reached into his pocket. “Here, take my other mobile and call if there is a problem. Sorry about the dog, girls. I can’t for the life of me understand why anyone would take him.”

  Amanda picked up her map of Amsterdam on the way out. “It looks like we need to turn right, walk two blocks and then go left to get to the flower market.”

  They followed the instructions, crossed a bridge and noticed small greenhouses sitting on barges lined up on one side of the canal.

  “Do you think that’s the flower market?” Amanda said, a bit louder than she’d planned.

  An older woman beside her said, “Yes, that is the Bloemenmarkt. It is the world’s only floating flower market.” She beamed with pride. “It has been here since 1862, when all kinds of flowers were brought into Amsterdam from the countryside by boat. My grandfather used to drive one of those barges. Of course, now they sit here permanently. The flowers now come by vans. You must take a look and get some pictures. Maybe buy some souvenirs to take home.”

  Leah pulled out the phone and held it in front of the woman’s face. “Have you seen a little dog that looks like this?”

  The woman stepped back. “No! No, I haven’t. Did you lose your puppy?”

  “Yes, someone took him from our car.”

  “That is sad. I hope you find him.” She shook her head and muttered something in Dutch as she walked away.

  The girls looked around the colourful market shops filled with the scents of tulips, hibiscus, geraniums and roses. Amanda couldn’t concentrate on the buckets overflowing with gorgeous flowers and the racks of souvenirs. She kept thinking of Joey. They showed his picture to the stall keepers, but no one had seen him.

  Getting more and more discouraged, Amanda absentmindedly stepped onto the cycle path along the canal. Hearing the tinkle of bicycle bells, she stepped back just as tons of bikes flew by.