Child of All Nations (3 page)

So that’s the story, I thought. Damned bejeweled ring, that’s how you’ve come to be in my pocket! If somehow the police knew where to find you now.… I became a bit nervous. I asked: “How was the crime discovered?”

“You’re going pale, Minke. Are you ill?”

I shook my head.

“He sold the booty to Ezekiel. It was discovered by the dead man’s family. They checked all the jewelry shops and found one of their things at Ezekiel’s; then they reported it.”

Vic then told the rest of the story; it was easy to guess. The crime was exposed; the police searched Suurhof’s house. Robert had vanished. Nothing was found. No one knew where Robert had gone, not even his parents.

“You say you know where he is, Minke?”

“Well, at least where he’s been sending his letters from.”

“Letters? To you?” he asked, amazed. His eyes questioned mine. Then, abruptly, he turned the conversation: “There’s no point, Minke. There’s no point complaining to his parents about those letters. You’ll only cause more grief.”

I became suspicious. How embarrassing if he knew about Suurhof’s letters to my wife! How humiliated I would be as a husband! The ring itched in my pocket. Perhaps this cursed ring was the cause of all our misfortune.

Victor could tell I was trying to hide something. “No, Minke, don’t go there. That scoundrel Robert is capable of anything.”

I turned the conversation: “What are you doing these days, Vic?”

“Just as you see me now: in and out of the villages. You know what I am? Don’t laugh. An agent for the shipping company that takes pilgrims to Mecca. Being a
sinyo
like this, it’s hard to get my customers’ trust. I intend to get some other kind of work, but…ah well. Hey, Minke, do you know how many pilgrims will travel
to Mecca from South Africa this year? Five hundred! From an English colony! If I could just get five hundred people here in Surabaya…”

He too wanted to avoid talk about Robert’s letters. He must have known they were addressed to my wife. So it was no secret. How did people know?

“Say, Minke, would you like to swap jobs with me?”

“Thanks, Vic. But I must get on now.”

I left Victor Roomers in the stall. I left with an angry heart—hot, jealous, furious.

The buggy raced off towards Peneleh. From others I met along the way I got the same story and the same advice: Stay away from the Suurhofs. One even said, straight out: “Don’t take any notice if you get letters from him. He’s crazy.”

So all my school friends knew about the letters to Annelies. I was the only one who didn’t. How blind I had been.

Willem Vos, who was working in a timber yard, even went so far as to say: “He made it clear that he was out to get you, Minke. Be careful. He hinted to some people at the graduation party that day that he would get you. But people like him would never dare say such things openly.”

I deliberately avoided the girls from school. Now that they had graduated they were no longer school friends but maidens awaiting proposals from one official or another—Pure European if possible. I would only disturb their waiting.

Late in the day, another friend pointed out: “Ezekiel has been kept under detention, yet Suurhof’s name has never even been mentioned. Why? Because Suurhof has European status. Ezekiel is a Jew from Baghdad, with only Oriental status.”

At five-thirty in the afternoon, my buggy entered the Suurhofs’ front compound. My eyes went straight for the mango tree, where the family liked to sit and enjoy the afternoon air. Yes, there they were, sitting on the wooden benches around the tree trunk, talking amongst themselves.

I had not been to this house since the incident between Robert and me when I first met Annelies at Wonokromo. When they saw my fine buggy enter the yard they all stood up and stared in amazement. I recognized Mr. and Mrs. Suurhof straight away. Both were thin and wasted from consumption. Of their twelve children, only Robert, the eldest, was missing.

As soon as I alighted, Mrs. Suurhof called out in her Indo accent, “Ai-ai,
Nyo
, it looks like you’re a big
tuan
now!”

“Good afternoon, Mr. Suurhof, Mrs. Suurhof, children,” I greeted them, thinking at that moment that my friends were right: I shouldn’t have come.

The whole family looked thin and sickly. What was the use of showing them this cursed ring? And what was the use in protesting about Robert’s letters? Pent-up anger, fury, a hot and jealous heart—all were slowly pushed aside by pity.

The children stood up and moved aside to make a place for me. They sat surrounding me in a horseshoe shape.

“Ah! The newspapers were full indeed of reports about you, Sinyo,” Mr. Suurhof began.

“Yes, but things have eased now. It’s all over.”

“It’s a great pity that it ended so unhappily, Nyo,” Mrs. Suurhof added.

“What can be done?” and the conversation ended.

But our quiet reflections were interrupted. One of the children attacked with the news: “Brother Robert has gone. He’s not here anymore. Didn’t he say good-bye to you?” On seeing me shake my head he went on, “He’s gone to the Netherlands.”

“Who said he’s gone to the Netherlands?” Mr. Suurhof quickly took over the conversation. “He went away just before Sinyo got married. You must know, as a child he was never at ease with himself. A young person, an H.B.S. graduate, restless, forgetful, never wanting to stay at home. Sinyo knows what he was like.” Old Suurhof threw a hard look towards his children. It seemed he meant to forbid them to talk about their elder brother.

But one of the younger children didn’t understand the signals. He came up to me and passed on some proud news: “Yes,
Bang
, in the afternoon Bang Robert would work and in the morning go to H.B.S.”

“That’s very fine. He was a very advanced pupil. What kind of work did he do?” I asked.

“He never used to say, Bang.”

“He might be restless,” Mrs. Suurhof took over from her children, “but we never believed there was evil in his heart. Yes, sometimes he was naughty, uncontrolled, Nyo—you know what he’s like from school, yes?—but a wicked boy? No.”

The smaller child wasn’t going to be ignored. He went on
with his report with great enthusiasm: “He sent us some money, Bang! Fifteen guilders!”

“What are you talking about, Wim?” his mother reprimanded.

“Yes, it’s true, Bang,” another little brother confirmed. “Mama used the money for clothes for us children.”

“It’s true, Bang, they’re being made up now,” Wim added.

“Children!” Mr. Suurhof cut in. He wanted to say something else, but his coughing stopped him.

“It’s true, Bang, it’s true.” Some of the other children supported their brothers.

“That wasn’t from Robert. You heard wrong. The money is from your father’s pension,” Mrs. Suurhof scolded.

“Back pay for a wage increase due five months ago, Nyo,” Mr. Suurhof explained, then tried to divert the conversation: “So Sinyo works for
Nyai
now?”

“Yes, just helping around the place, sir, that’s all.”

“How does it pay?”

“Well enough, sir.”

“Yes, it’s a big company; the salary would be big too.”

“Bang, Bang,” Wim charged in head first again. “Bang Robert has been adopted by a wealthy merchant. He’s living in a three-storied building in Heerengracht.”

“Where’s Heerengracht?” I asked.

“Ah, fancy listening to children’s talk. Don’t take any notice, Nyo.”

The eldest child—who hadn’t been able to continue his schooling—observed the conversation with big suspicious eyes. He listened to each of his parents’ words, and to what I said, but paid no heed to his younger brothers and sisters.

“Robert said”—another child came forward—“after he becomes a lawyer, he’s going to open an office in Surabaya.”

“So he’s living in Heerengracht now?” I repeated my question.

“It’s not true, Nyo. Even my husband and I don’t know where he is now,” Mrs. Suurhof contradicted her children.

Husband and wife were trying to avoid each other’s eyes, while doing their utmost to silence their children.

The eldest, the one who hadn’t even graduated from primary school, didn’t relax his attention for a moment.

“Go on, over there, fix some drinks for Nyo Minke.”

The eldest moved slowly away from the mango tree, his head bowed.

“Come on! All out the back! Check that all the dishes have been washed: You too!” she ordered the smallest. They all obeyed.

“I don’t know where those children learned to fantasize about their brother,” said Mr. Suurhof, frowning at his wife.

“Yes, that’s children for you, Nyo,” Mrs. Suurhof added. “If Sinyo has many children later on, you’ll find out. They eat out your heart. Don’t pay them any attention now, Nyo.”

It was pathetic to see how these two parents tried to defend their family’s good name by refusing to admit anything to the world, and by painting for their other children a flawless picture of their eldest son.

And what of the ring in my pocket? What must I do with it? Must it smolder forever in my pocket and my thoughts? These people will be even more tormented if I return it and tell them it came from Robert. Look: Both of them are waiting to see what will come out of my mouth next, like the accused awaiting the judge’s verdict.

Seeing I was hesitating, Mr. Suurhof began: “You must know yourself, Nyo, what Robert was like. I myself don’t know what he wants, Nyo. He has never given any thought to the troubles he causes his parents.”

“Tuan, where is Robert now?”

“No one knows, Nyo.”

“I know he set sail for Europe on board an English ship,” I said.

Both husband and wife looked at me with hopeless eyes. The approach of one of the younger children, crying, from the direction of the house, saved them. The child complained: “Someone’s stamped on my foot, Ma.”

“Nah! Nyo, this is how it is. Fighting every day. If God permits, you’ll end up thin and dried up! Even when they’re grown, there’s no guarantee they’ll be of any use to you,” Mrs. Suurhof advised. She spoke to the child and led him back into the house.

Now, left with only Mr. Suurhof’s eyes on me, I at last felt more at ease. Yet still there was not enough resolve in my heart to act on my intentions. The ring began to burn again in my pocket.
The gaunt man before me was still trying to guess the reason for my visit.

“So how is your wife, Sinyo?”

His question gave me an opening: “I am here precisely on my wife’s behalf, Tuan.”

“Ha? She had no business with us.”

Pity returned to erode my resolve. No, you must not be weak! Do what you must, I encouraged myself.

Tuan Suurhof searched my face.

“Yes, Tuan,” and I reached down into my trouser pocket. But once again I became unsure and couldn’t do it. “My wife, yes, Tuan, my wife…”

“We’ve never had anything to do with Sinyo’s wife.” Old Suurhof was beginning to feel boxed in.

“…is returning something that she received from Tuan’s family, the Suurhof family.”

“Returning something? We’ve never lent anything to your wife.” He was becoming more and more guarded.

Before I lost my nerve again I reached into my pocket and drew out the handkerchief in which the ring was wrapped. I put it on the table, explaining, “Yes, Tuan, only a small object. On the day we were married, my wife received this gift from Robert. We felt it was too valuable. We wanted to return it.”

“We never agreed with Robert about any present.”

I opened the handkerchief. The diamond glistened in the bright twilight, lying there like an eyeball gouged from its socket.

Tuan Suurhof was abruptly seized by a coughing fit, turning his face away and bending over. His right cheek quivered uncontrollably. He waved the object away: “Wrap it up again, Nyo. I know for certain that Robert had gone before Sinyo was married. Robert, and even we ourselves, have never owned anything like that.”

“It is indeed a very expensive ring, Tuan, perhaps worth more than four hundred guilders, but it did come from Robert.”

“No, Sinyo is mistaken. It couldn’t have been from him. He had long gone.”

“Yes, he was indeed gone, Tuan, but not before our marriage. Even now he is sending letters.”

“How is that possible, Nyo? He doesn’t even write to us. They must be fake.”

“No, Tuan, I know his handwriting well. So what about the ring?”

“No, Nyo, Robert never owned a ring like that. Put it back in your pocket, before anyone sees it,” he said nervously.

“Robert himself put this ring on my wife’s finger. I thought that if we gave it back to you, you could use it for something.”

“No, Nyo, I am happy enough as I am, a clerk in the post office.”

“But we don’t want it,” I persisted.

“Neither do we, Nyo. Indeed we don’t have any right to it.”

The haggard man’s eyes darted everywhere, even behind himself, steadfastly refusing to look at the ring on the table.

“If that is the case, let me take my leave of you.” I stood up.

He too stood up. I walked away but he jumped up and blocked my path. He pleaded: “Take the thing back, Nyo. Don’t be angry with me. Don’t make things even more difficult for us.” He held my hand, pleading.

“It’s up to you, Tuan; you can throw it away. You can burn it.”

“Don’t, Nyo. I don’t even dare touch it.”

I kept walking away. He tugged at me to stop me from going.

“Why are you afraid? It’s Robert’s. If you don’t like it, then keep it and give it back to him when he returns.”

“Don’t, Nyo, don’t cause us more trouble, Nyo. Sinyo knows how many children we have.” His tugs grew stronger.

I stopped, unsure. Indeed I had no right to make trouble for him and his family. They had already suffered enough because of Robert. Victor Roomers was right after all. I shouldn’t be adding to their troubles. Mama’s teachings about principles were being tested. But it wouldn’t be right to go on with this.

I allowed myself to be pulled back, and sat again under the mango tree. I listened to his pleas: “Take it back, Nyo,” he said, pointing with his chin to the ring, which still lay on the handkerchief.

I wrapped up the ring and put it back into my pocket. For the second time, I took my leave. He seemed relieved. All of a sudden, he asked: “Where to now, Nyo?”