Tonnie's Yellow Dress
When we moved to our second apartment
in Hoogvliet at Klaasjezevensterstraat (translated little claude's sever
star street, I kid you not) I left behind my dearest friend Robbie Ringeling
(honest I am not making this stuf up). There were no other friends.
I had not started kindergarten yet, my bizarre extended family never encouraged
cousins playing together, we were only allowed to sit neatly on had chairs
until adults deemed it time to go home. Dry Calvinist types my aunts
and uncles. Most of the time it was my dog and my parents, I seem
to have lacked the imagination for invisible friends. When mum had
to go off singing and I very inconveniently got sniffles or flu it was
our downstairs neighbour Mrs. Ringeling who watched me. She had a
son Robbie the same age I was.
When Mrs. Ringeling watched me during
the day she'd sometimes take me to the bunny club. In the parkette
beside the dark masonry apartment buildings was a very upbeat communal
garden/parkette where Mr. Ringeling as a labour of love had built a series
of rabbit hutches and the bunnies were for all the kids of Bahrain Street
to enjoy, in case they had no pets of their own. Very little in life
is as calming as petting a contented bunny. Robbie's mum also make
bread with jam, not the health food jam my mom had at home but the very
red, very sugary kind I was not supposed to have, yummy. I loved
those afternoons.
Life was going to change.
No more bunny club, Robbie, and out black and white cat Piereke had just
fallen of the balcony and this time it killed the cat. Changes, lots
of them. As an incentive to really liking the move I was asked to
choose the colour of linoleum I wanted on the gloor in my room. Such
marvelous colours, not the brown and beige of the other apartment.
Purple, it had to be purple. I got it too, this was not just a bait
piece, no, I was actually getting a purple floor, It was a considerable
move up from the concrete floor with seagrass mats. We were also going
to have music piped in, classical music all day long.
A piano was being moved in.
Just to get out of the way I settled on a quiet corner on the large balcony.
I could see the sea, ships crossing the North see sparked on the horizon.
From out previous balcony all one could see were the across the street's
neighbours and I knew it was rude to look at other people in their homes.
for me looking out was an entirely new experience. This was a new
polder, We now lived in the polder's newest building there was n
other building that we could see looking in this direction. Everything
was very new, the balcony sheet metal was still covered in primer.
The man with the linoleum arrived
a burly man with hairy arms and he was sweating a lot. He was a bit
scary and he was working with a very scary knife. So when my mother
beckoned me to come with her I happily did so, My mother took me
downstairs and knocked on the door of the apartment directly under us,
A very thin, grim faced woman answered the door. She had a wonderful
smile which I'd not seen coming it was really very surprising. It
was all very jovial and I could only assume that this was a friend to my
mother. In the living room was an older man I assumed was the husband.
I remember thinking that everyone was wearing an awful lot of brown.
"Tonni", the woman yelled the name.
My goodness that woman as thin as her could have so very much voice was
utterly beyond belief. I'm quite sure I must have looked very shocked.
I did hope someone would come soon because I really did not want her to
yell again.
There was a rapid klip klop sound
down the hallway. I found myself marvelling at the near mirror shine
on the pale blue linoleum floor, I stepped closer and there was a little
girl exactly the same size as I, in little pretty white shoes and a pretty
dress with red flowers. She had wavy blonde hair with barrettes in.
I thought she was very pretty. I found myself a bit out of place
in my blue knee pants with striped shirt,and those ugly orthopedic shoes.
Apparently the arrangement was that
while my parents finished with the movers and the linoleum man I should
stay down here with he van der Linden's and play with Tonni. A fine
arrangement. I just hoped she could like me even though I did not
have a pretty dress like that. I had very much wanted one of those
frilly flouncy dresses. My mother was opposed to them. Vulgar
was what she said, they ere vulgar, for the lower classes Mother
was adament about it.
After getting to know Tonni we got
on very well, which worked out well for mother since she did need someone
to mind me whenever I would be sick and she had a concert to sing,
Mrs, van der Linden was so very nice when I was sick, she'd bring me sugarwater
with crumbled aspiring, she would hug Tonni and me while telling bedtime
stories, I was also allowed to wear one of Tonni's frilly dresses
while I was there,
One afternoon Mrs. van der Linden
had suggested I take home the yellow frilly dress I liked so much.
Tony didn't like the yellow so much so it was alright with her, I
showed it to mum when I got upstairs and in the door. "That awful
thing", my mother scowled. "It's a rag, it's trashy, you can't wear
that". and then the coup de grace. "Take it back." I think
I must have been so tearful that Mrs. van der Linden decided not to ask
why, She just hugged me and said I could still wear it while visiting,
She was a wonderful mom. I used to pretend to myself while staying there
whenever mom had concerts, that she was my real mother
My mother must have noticed how
fond I was of the family, she took every chance to point out just how vulgar
and lower class they were. I knew it was a mean thing to say, but
very unclear of it's meaning. I stayed in touch with Tonni until
she died at age 19, she was engaged at the time, and killed when
she waved at her boyfriend and did not see the truck. She died instantly.
I was told that it was probably best, she would otherwise have died from
a brain tumour, which gratefully she knew nothing of at the time.
I visited the family once after
that. They were terribly sad even years later. Tonni had been
their only child, her mother was nearly fifty when she had her. All I could
think to do was tell them just how very much they had all meant to me growing
up.
Other Stories in this series
will be posted every few weeks or so |
