I was sitting gloomily in my favourite cafe. The beer didn’t taste well and the whisky was too strongly flavoured. Yak, I didn’t want to drink some apple scotch. I wanted some plain firewater. The cafe was small and dark. Only one bartender attended his regular customers. Strangers had to earn his attention. It was not very clear for me which conditions the bartender required from the solicitors for a drink. Maybe some queerness?  I had seen only extraordinary people in his small kingdom.   The air was hot and smoky. I yearned for some air. But I could not order my bones to move. They were glued to the table.  Perhaps the bartender did not clean his tables on purpose. Was that allowed in this country?  

               Creek.... The door opened and a ferocious looking man strode inside. “ Are you still serving?”  He asked, as it was nearly midnight. The bartender pretended not to hear him. 

“Only when you sit next to me”, I shouted to the stranger, so the bartender would hear me as well. 

 “Thank you my lady. I am desperate for a drink”, answered the stranger.

“What is your business in this neighbourhood”? I asked him.

“ I just performed in a play and now I want to relax with a cigar and a drink. This is the first cafe after many where I could smell cigar smoke.”  

 A queer thing happened. Did I dream or did he just take of his arms and hands, just like his coat? “Are you ok?” the bartender asked friendly?   “Your face just turned white with blue stripes”. 

“It is ok. I just saw a body disintegrating”, I assured him.

     “Do not panic” spoke the stranger. “I just took off my extra hands”.

Now the bartender got interested. “ Show me again”, he said, “and I will bring you some ale and a cigar”.

  

 

      “No problem” answered the stranger and repeated his action. Then the bartender sat down at our table and started to remove his legs. Their eyes turned expectantly to me. I threw away my speaking Ipad.  The stranger immediately picked it up from the floor. “I want to hear your stories”! He said and returned it to me.

 “I get you more drinks,” the bartender said. “By the way I am Jimmy and this is Gloria. How do you want to be called”?

 “Just call me Freddy the freak”, Freddy answered.

          ‘Why are you calling yourself a freak”? I asked.

 “Because I am proud to be a freak. I show the people it is liberating when you are not expected to behave as a normal person. Calling myself a freak takes me out of the box of normality. People like that because it is very boring and fatiguing to behave normal all the time. And then, in my performance I surprise them by performing in a special and also superhuman way. I do have a black belt in karate you know, and I use it in my show. I am excellent at it. Just as I am a famous drummer in a rock band. But what about you?”, and he gazed intensely at me with his beautiful blue eyes. 

        “Well, I hide out here often when I have some energy left. Jimmy is taking good care of me. In my work as consultant I train people in the care industry to get human again. That is difficult because most survivors in this industry don’t get the support they need to feel really human. Though the care workers try their best but get paid to be efficient in a business model based on economic values only. But I don’t want to talk about this frustrating work. Tell me more about your creative ideas. It is good to hear from a different world”.  

         “What do I get in exchange”?  

“Well, a bite in generous meat”. 

 “Deal. You know what?  Come to see my show tomorrow night. And we have dinner before. I will make the audience shiver and laugh at the same time”. 

“How will you accomplish this”, I asked him inquisitively.” 

“You have to wait to see”, he responded with a conspiring tone. 

 

The next day I was waiting for him in cafe Koosje near the zoo. They know me there. The food is delicious.  It was crowded as it always is on Friday afternoon. The cafe is the hangout of the university across the street.  Freddy entered the cafe. All eyes focus on him as he is dressed in a superb Italian suit. He walks to the bar. Then he sees me. One moment I think he is going to do another strange act, but instead he just orders a drink. He is laughing at the bartender who is preparing our drinks. At the moment the barwoman hands over the glasses he holds down his hand in order to take them. Just as he takes the glass he drops off his hands. The sound of the breaking glass penetrates the entire place. The bartender is shocked and stares at the hand on the floor. I feel a big laugh is coming up. It remains silent for ages. I can’t oppress my sound any longer and begin to giggle at the same time that Freddy says; “Oops, stupid hands! And he starts to laugh as well. The crowd stares at me, and it seems like I’m the only one who makes a sound. Then everybody burst out in laughing because of what happened. In this moment it is like the laughter relieves all the customers. 

   Freddy says to me: “this is why being handicapped isn’t always as bad as it looks. You can make people laugh. It is my favourite trick to make a connection with other people. Laughing at my own stupidity convinces people that I am not afraid of the stupidity of others or themselves. This puts them at ease”. 

‘Well, you are my hero now. I wish I could screw of my head and replace it by another one. I could use a joke like that to get some connection.”

        

 

       “Just start thinking about it. What would you do when you would be a clown in a circus?” He keeps silent.  Jesus. He makes me think seriously. 

       “I could use strange voices to get attention. And with those voices I would make a fool of myself. Some ridiculous voices; some very high and some very low. But then they would never take me serious”. 

      “Don’t deceive yourself. They would rather listen to you when you play the fool and they know you are pleasing them with this role. When they cannot make a connection between what they see, your movements and noises, and what you say with your voice machine they will not listen”.  I was shocked, but then I realised he was right. I had to find a way to become a clown. Being a clown isn’t the way I see myself, but I could try. A red nose and a crazy hat will do the job normally. In my case I had to think how to be funny without raising too much feelings of pity. 

  “Hey let’s dance”, Freddy yelled at me. Normally I refuse because My muscles are quiet anarchistic. They don’t like being bossed around. But Freddy was very challenging. My muscles acted wilder than I had expected. I felt weird, my head dizzy, my stomach queer and butterflies in my belly. My mind lost in reality. I felt like a bird, like an eagle high in the air. I could see Freddy and me swirling around. The music is wild. My muscles vibrate with the music; my heart hammers dangerously in my chest. I gasp the air quicker and quicker, and the eagle flies higher and higher. It is quite a sight. Freddy cannot hold me very tight with his short flippers, as he calls his hands. Or do I hold him? 

Clash…….  We fall apart. I bump into a table. Glasses tinkle and chips and courgettes fly through the air. “Shards bring luck,” shouts one of the guests on that table laughing. And they rush to help us. “Is everything ok?  You must be crazy to dance so wild”.

     “Well we are crazy. It is so much fun. I am fine. My name is Freddy and my friends’ name is Gloria. This is a splendid way to start a conversation. How may I call you?  Gloria, are you still in higher spheres?” 

My head was still dizzy. My eyes saw stars and stripes. I felt wonderful. I couldn’t think. Thinking was not necessary. I felt one with the environment. “Great” I replied. “Never felt better”.

“Gloria, these nice people are”….. “  This is Peter and I am Emma. Lets order champagne to celebrate this dance”, replied Emma.

“Let me hang out on the floor for a minute, till my soul is back in my body, I uttered.”  After a while I got on my feet with Freddy’s help and grabbed the champagne to show my consent.

“It is so nice to meet you in this special way. You are tourists or do you live here”? 

“We live here. I’m teaching Spanish and Peter here teaches economy. And what about you?” 

“I work as a consultant in human resourcing. I have my own office with 2 colleagues. And this freak here, I met him only yesterday.” I replied.

Freddy seized my hand, saying: “Yes and as I recognized her as a fellow freak we decided to get to know each other better. Maybe she can become my partner in my show. By the way I would be honoured, as you two would visit my show tonight in the Bellevue theatre. It starts at 10 pm”. You can join Gloria.”

    “What is it about”, Peter asked. 

Mostly it is a comedian show together with some friends. We play the freak and make fun of ourselves”. 

        “Isn’t that confirming the prejudices”, Peter asked concerned?

“No, I don’t think so. I show the audience that there is nothing wrong with playing with stereotypes. It helps me enormously to develop and adjust my own identity. Am I the stereotype? Or am I someone else? How do I like to be? What do you think Gloria?”

          “Well, I never really thought about exposing myself to the public for money, as you seem to do. But maybe it is good to show that you are not afraid of the outside world and even wants to start a conversation. And when we can all laugh about ourselves, the gap between them and us will disappear.”

         “The only other possibility to create an unity is starting a war against another other”, Emma added.  “Laughing is more civilised”. 

“Well, then my conscious tells me that it is ok to see you”, declared Peter solemnly. When do we leave”?     

     “I have to leave now to prepare myself. You can come half an hour before the show starts. It is not too far. Take tramline 10, and get out at the Leidseplein. I will tell the director to keep 3 tickets apart”.  And off he went, my beautiful gallant friend, showing off in his perfectly tailored Italian suit. 

It was quiet for a while, all sunken in our thoughts. 

 

Let us go to the theatre”, my Ipad suggested. I will call my personal cab driver, Juan. After 10 minutes this ‘guapo’ young man, with a very short body, entered the café. “Bike taxi for my bella amiga”, he shouted through the café. Outside stood a beautiful antique riksha. In gold and green colors. Luckily it was dry and warm weather, as the riksha didn’t protect against rain or cold. 

“ Do we all fit”, asked Peter anxiously. I mean, are we not too heavy. Can it bear our weight?”

“Thus far this bike has carried hundreds of people”, answered Juan on a light tone, “three more will she carry as well, no problemo. Bella show your friends how to get aboard.”

I stepped aboard carefully. Emma, as short as I am, followed. Now it was Peter’s turn. Peter waited. He was a huge man, very muscled. He stood there like a statue. At last he Cautiously he put one leg inside, waiting for some squeak. “Hurry up coward. The worst thing that can happen is that our carriage falls apart”. Emma shouted. And then I will protect you against the street with my body”.

Ok and he shifted his weight inwards, pulled his other leg onside. At the very moment the riksha started to swing dangerously with loud creaks and noises. “ Don’t worry, these are my good springs you are hearing. They need a moment to find the balance”!

  “Astonishing to see that Juan is so strong” said Emma, as the riksha started to move when we were all inside.  ‘Yes, he is fabulous with his short body. I feel very safe with him.’just enjoy the ytrees the river, the canals and the people. It is a nice ride towards the Bellevue Theater. The riksha passed the Stopera, the combination of the city hall and the opera house. Then Juan made a sharp left turn to the fright of some cyclists. “He jack ass, look before you turn. There are more people on the road then just you”. Juan only responded; sorry. Then he came to a stop. You have to get out for a moment. This bridge is too high”. 

“I have a better idea”, answered Peter and he jumped out of the carriage and started to push it.

 “Hi amigo, gracias. You are a good friend”. At the top Peter of the bridge went aboard again and with high speed the carriage rolled towards the “Magere Brug”, the Meager Bridge. Juan started to turn, as we had to cross it. The springs respired heavily and loudly.

We swang from side to side. Even I got a bit terrified as we raced towards the railing of the bridge on one wheel. “Get over to the other side quickly”, Juan cried. But it went too fast. It was impossible. 

Crack, whack, we bumped into the railing. Juan flew through the air and plunged in the river. Peter bumped into Emma and me. A series of cracks followed. The wheels of the carriage broke apart, as did the wheel axis. And the floor of the carriage sunk on the surface of the bridge. 

“Everybody ok”? People rushed to help us. I guessed I was ok. Peter and Emma started to disentangle. Fine as well. And Juan? Where is he? Some old folks pointed at the river. He swam towards the riverbank where the café was. Apparently not severely wounded. An old lady started to laugh. What a slapstick, like in the old days”! she laughed. The bystanders and we joined, feeling lucky that we had no personal damage. But Juan? It was his antique carriage. Dripping he got out of the water with the help from a nice young lady who was as tall as he was short.

“O Juan, we are so sorry. Your beautiful riksha has fallen apart! What can we do now”?

“My friends, is doesn’t matter. I just found the love of my life I think”!   Look, my guardian angel who came to rescue me. What is your name my angel? Or shall I just call you angel? Hell you saved my life. I will buy you anything.”  The tall lady apparently didn’t understand him but laughed at him with her ebony face.

“But we are in a hurry, Juan. The show of Freddy starts within 15 minutes!”

  “Well, call a cab. I want to stay here to get dry feet again, to get to know my new friend and to solve the problem of my broken down treasure.” 

“You don’t mind us leaving you for the show. We will return after! Okidoki. Peter call one.”  And Peter obeyed quickly. It is so handy to have a voice. In those moments I feel very jealous. 

 

Finally we arrived near the theater. The doormen showed us in quickly. “I waited for you. My friend Freddy warned me that you could come late. Follow me”. And he brought us ton ice seats on the front row. The theater was dark already.

 

The show started. Nice rockmusic filled the hall. The spotlights started to shine. There was Freddy. He was the drummer in the band. Wow. Sweeping music. Louder and louder. Violent hits with his sticks on the drums. A volcano that erupted eated rocks.

 Suddenly silence and darkness again. What could we expect now?. This time two karateman occupied the floor. One of them was Freddy. The other was a giant with muscles like a price-winning bull. They started to fight. I couldn’t watch, grightened as I was that he would be knocked out within a second. But no,  the public kept shouting ; “Move around, Freddy, as fast as you can”. 

 I opened My eyes. Freddy was running in the ring and mister Giant couldn’t touch him, let alone hit him. Now the giant stood still, out of air. Freddy stopped as well.

“ Are you afraid of me, Goliath, do you give up the fight”? he adressed the giant. “I will keep my position now. I won’t run away”. Goliath took a deep breath, moved with his feet like an athlete before the start and propelled towards Freddy. Freddy pushed out a foot and  Goliath stumbled. His face glattered against the floor. Freddy quickly landed his foot on him as the victorer. “Hurray, hurray for Freddy!” shouted the public.

The curtains closed again. Quiet whispering surged,  gradually getting more exited and even exalted. 

 

The bolero of Ravel started to play. I like that music inmensely It pulls me in a beat, in another world where the realm of chaotic reality no longer exists; only the beauty of order with pure sounds and rythm. 

The stage enlightenend. There he was, my Freddy, dressed up as a cowboy. All in black and pink colours. A black leather hat ornated his head. Sharp boots with golden spurs covered his feet. Two revolvers and bulletstrings shone over his pink shirt. Knives in his belt. His coat was printed all over with pistols.

He started to dance in the rytmh with sharp, abrupt movements of his body and head. He threw of his hat. His long curly hair appeared in all his wildness. He loosened his shirt, untight his belt. Swung with the revolvers in the air and lost them. His hands played with the knife; He showed how dangerous he could be. Then he threw the knife in a wooden board. Djong. Followed by his shirt. Wow, what a torso. Lean and muscled like an athlete. He kicked his boots off. He waved with his hands and , yes, of course, they flew in the air as well. Now he only had his flippers. Could he untie the belt and the zippers of his trousers? All eyes were glued to his flippers. 

Why did I wonder? Of course he managed with his flexible body.  Off the belt went, zip, there felt his trousers on the floor. He jumped out of them.

Jezus he was naked. How did he dare? He, a cripple. He didn’t give a damn! He was very sexy and knew  it. I was mesmerized by him. I felt like I was all alone in this magic world.. 

I felt so proud. My hero. 

Tickle, touch. I felt a faint touch. someone touched me and then squeezed me. It was Emma. Reality slowly trespassed on me . The public cried out  lustful shouts. “We want more!”  “I want you” !