By Pieter Thomassen

On the promenade, out of sight of Monsieur Jacques, a bronze man lost among shopping women, mummy retrieves her pastel green customer card from her big red purse. ‘We’ll first go and buy you a new coat at Schunck, and afterwards have chocolate ice cream at La Veneziana.’ After Axel has spent a penny to watch the mechanical toy ape orchestra in action in the department store, his mother firmly takes him up the escalator to the men’s department. There, she selects a yellow duffel coat a size too big, so that he can grow into it, and dressed in the eye-catching garment, Axel is a silent witness to the long-winding conversation which follows between his mother and the till assistant.
      ‘Well, Miets, that took some time,’ are her husband’s welcoming words when they arrive home, spoken from behind his mechanical sewing machine with a blue tailor’s chalk stick stuck between his lips. ‘I could have put together a coat like that myself,’ he mutters, winking at Axel, ‘but well, your mother needs to burn a hole in her pocket.’
      ‘Pah, grumpy,’ she argues, lifting up her chin, ‘Why for heaven’s sake did I marry an accountant?’
      Dad retires to his smoking corner in the kitchen, and a short while later he plays Two Fawn-Coloured Eyes on his mouth organ. That night, Axel dreams that everyone stares at him in class. He is stark naked.

© Pieter Thomassen
© Translation Holland Park Press

Axel 16 – Axel 15 – Axel 14 – Axel 13 – Axel 12 – Axel 11 – Axel 10 – Axel 9 – Axel 8 – Axel 7 – Axel 6 – Axel 5 – Axel 4 – Axel 3 – Axel 2 – Axel 1