'Samuel 24'
No feigned modesty here. In my youth I occupied myself exclusively with matters in which I was superior. This implied one draw-back: none of my friends could keep pace with me. As my quest for the Absolute did not tolerate compromise I often set off on my own. Sometimes not without regret, as I wasn’t an island either.
I was about ten years old and strolled along the floating landings of the Delfzijl marina. It was Saturday afternoon and all sorts of odd jobs were done on the moored boats. The training ship, the Pieter A. Koerts floated as sweet as a virgin, as befitted an antique three-master. I was on my way to the main harbour, but before I arrived at my favourite fishing spot, the loading funnel for sand and gravel, I saw some boys running over the gravel piles.
My heart pleaded: ‘May I join?’
But my mind said: ‘But only on my terms.’
I went around a corner, over the rails, to a portal crane. No one was watching and I ran up the high ladder to the crane. Up there I walked along a lead that ran across the warehouse to the gravel deposits. By a ladder I got to the roof of the warehouse. I looked down. The boys were still running across the gravel, the highest hill still was about 5 metres down. My heart began to pound, that would be a beautiful entry, to jump off the roof in the midst of admiring looks. There was, however, a catch to the gravel: if they did not like me there was no way back.
I decided first to shout: ‘Ahoy’ and this turned out to be a wise decision. As soon as they laid eyes on me I was cursed with a vehemence I had not expected. After a short pow-wow they fanned out and it became clear to me that I’d better hurry down if I did not want to be thrown off the warehouse. I ran across the roof, climbed in another portal crane and descended as soon as I could. Below me I heard a boy yelling,
‘Here he is, here!
Another boy joined the first. I hesitated, looked around me, no one else and decided: those I can cope with. The last two metres I jumped, right on top of the boys. Then I ran, to the Watergate (not related).
In that period the centre of Delfzijl was in the process of being shielded against high water levels by the erection of sheetpile walls against the outside of the old dike. I climbed on top of it, panting. Actually I should now be allowed to join this tribe of noble savages. My courage and competence had been demonstrated impressively. I had cut a tail from the King’s robe. With these thoughts I walked back over the sheet piling. As they had not expected me to return, I saw them way before they saw me. They went into poor hidings behind all kinds of objects that can be found on the docks. I was not impressed and called one of them,
‘Hey there, yeah you, may I join you guys?’
The boy appeared a bit stupid from behind an oil drum,
‘Yeah, dunno…’
He looked around. Other boys appeared. A good-natured murmur went up,
‘Why not, he is OK, all right.’
That was what I had hoped for. Underneath the sheet piling lay a heap of sand.
‘My name is Jan’,
I shouted and jumped.
I was hardly on my feet again when I saw a boy come straight at me. Without warning he punched me hard in my face and threw me down in the sand. When he pushed my face in it I came to my senses. I leapt up, seized his arm and swung him around me. The other boys had formed a circle around us. I gave my faithless attacker, who meanwhile had both feet from the ground, an extra twist and let him go into the direction where I had left my bike. I jumped through the breach, found my key while running, but they did not come after me.
Jan Ploeg, Robin and Joan’s house, February 15th 2008