(Translation of “De Held” from Peper en Zout by Ds M.E Voila, Kok: Kampen (n.d.), a book about the experiences of a Dutch minister in about the 1950’s.)
Although small and skinny, Mr. Lampers still gave an overblown impression. That came from his manner of carrying himself. He was a teacher. Of course, that in itself had nothing to do with his puffed-up air, for I know several teachers with whom that is not at all noticeable. I mean, no one would say they were conceited, because they really weren’t.
But I had better return to Mr. Lampers.
When he straightens his spectacles and tilts his head, there are several girls in the second grade who grow afraid of him. And when, in spring, his high falsetto voice pierces the classroom with sharp rebukes, even the sparrows chirping in the chestnut tree outside the open window fall silent.
In his classroom he rules supreme; outside of it, not to the same degree; and at home, it is his wife that reigns.
Our housemaid Jans let him in, and when he emerged
from behind her formidable form, she said in the same tone she would use with
the cat, “Yes, go on in.”
But Jans is not in the second grade. He solemnly shook my hand.
“Ahem” (that’s how he usually begins his
sentences), “Ahem, Pastor, I would like to ask your advice.”
He had already given me advice on several occasions—unsolicited—so I felt it only fair to return the favour.
“With pleasure, Mr. Lampers. What’s on your mind?”
He coughed importantly, pulled up the legs of his trousers, and sank into a big chair. Then came the story. He had Kees de Bont in his class. Did I know the De Bont family? Indeed, I did. The household was not as clean as one might wish. Well then, a few days earlier he had said to Kees: “. . . you should give yourself a good wash sometime, or you’ll get scabies.” The boy had repeated this at home, and it had not gone down well. The result was that Kees’s father kept him home from school.
“Ahem, mind you, Pastor, I did not say: 'you
have scabies,' but: 'otherwise you’ll get scabies.' Or perhaps: 'that’s
how one gets scabies.'”
What pained Mr. Lampers most of all was that father De Bont demanded an apology.
“And that I cannot do, Pastor. I only gave a well-meant warning. That is my duty, and besides. . .” His voice was already beginning to chirp again. So, I cut him off and advised him simply to go to the De Bont household and explain the matter. He shook his head despondently and left.
But from other quarters I heard that he could not be moved. The headmaster, his colleagues, his wife—everyone tried. All in vain.
Until one evening he appeared again.
He seemed even smaller and thinner than before; this time he looked more deflated than inflated. After much beating about the bush came the confession. He was willing to go to the De Bonts. “But you see, Ahem. . . you may laugh at me, but they have such a large dog there, a terrible brute. And I simply am so afraid of dogs.”
There it was. This time his glasses sat crooked, his head hung low, and the Hero of Grade Two sat pitifully in the big leather chair.
So, I gave him my advice once more, with the
result that he went to the De Bonts . . . together with his wife. And Kees is back in
school.
But every now and then, when I meet him in town, I have the urge to bark.
