Читать книгу Ventoux - Bert Wagendorp - Страница 13

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III

The first time we heard Joost say anything, immediately after he had entered our classroom, he made us laugh. It was because of his accent. It was 1969, October or November, I suspect, as we were making dolls of chestnuts and matches.

Miss Hospes introduced him. ‘This is Joost,’ she said, with those nice Eastern os.

‘What a small class’, said Joost. ‘In Amsterdam the class is much bigger. And we have an aquarium, too. Our teacher is called Miss Prins.’

‘Joost’s father is a doctor,’ said Miss Hospes. Joost nodded. ‘First Joost’s father was a doctor in Amsterdam, now he’s a doctor here. Perhaps you will be able to go to Joost’s father sometime, if you’re ill.’

‘Or if you die.’ Joost laughed out loud, but we were shocked and Cora Berg started crying.

‘Don’t say those funny things, Joost,’ said Miss Hospes.

‘And my mother plays the saxophone.’ No one knew what a saxophone was.

‘Really, that’s nice. So tell the class what nice songs she plays.’

‘No songs. Mummy plays jazz.’

‘Oh,’ said Miss Hospes, who knew more about psalms.

‘She puts on records by Charlie Parker and she plays along. It drives Daddy crazy. “Can’t you stop that tooting,” he shouts. “It’s just like a cow.” Then she shouts, “Prick.”’ Joost must have found that very funny, because he almost got the giggles.

‘Do you have any brothers and sisters?’ asked Miss Hospes, with a blush on her cheeks.

‘I have sisters. One is called Louise and the other Sandra. Louise is seven and Sandra is seven, too. They’re twins. I can’t tell them apart, they’re so alike. But I like Sandra better than Louise.’

‘Right, Joost,’ said Miss Hospes, ‘go and sit next to Bart. Bart is that boy with the red sweater. Can you see him?’

‘Yes, he looks like a leprechaun.’

He came over to me and said we were going to the clay tray. He paid scarcely any attention to the other children. I beckoned André, who was sitting opposite me at our table. ‘We’re going to the clay tray, come on.’

‘This is clay,’ said Joost at the clay tray, as if he were giving a commentary. ‘When I pick up a piece of clay, I can make something out of it. For example, a little man. But when I throw the man back in the clay tray and I give him a thump, he becomes clay again.’ He sounded really surprised, as if he himself were listening to something new. André looked at him open-mouthed.

Within a day we were inseparable. AndréJoostandBart.