Stories from the Plantation | Kees
came up recently in a conversation about goodwill. I immediately thought of Kees. The Gutmensch regularly finds itself in a difficult split: he really wants to, but something often comes in between. Kees K., a very nice jovial fellow, came from a confectioner’s family with a great reputation in the croquette sector. Well graduated, married, children, landed in ‘a villa in Delft’ (Jaap Fischer), but (Faust): the man had lost his heart to beer and to the card game (toepen, hearts, banging, a bit of bridge).
He could put away the barley liquor in conceivable quantities. Kees then formed some ‘chat’ (his pet name for lager) and gave with a generous hand. Without the loss of his temper from that ability. He preferred to play cards in the coffee house. When Kees had some success in the game, he shouted loudly: ‘Juliana was signed!’ With the emphasis on the U. Few people knew that the man was highly regarded in the Dutch baseball world.
Early seventies. Easter is just around the corner. Father has traveled to Amsterdam to buy bread for the Easter breakfast from a special bakery for the family. After he has arranged a few things, Kees has to stop by the Leidseplein. To take the gauge with the boys. It will be – unclear – extremely cosy. We won’t keep it dry (free immersion tomorrow). At half past four at night, Kees decides to stay overnight with me in the Plantage. Those holidays are not going away.
The next morning, after the coffee, the first Easter day, the resulting day has started anyway. Kees timidly calls home to say that something has gone wrong. That daddy is coming. Later still, he gets into the car with a dejected face and drives towards South Holland. With the not so fresh rolls (and with Juliana’s faded stamp).