Child of All Nations

  It was only when the ship entered Singapore harbor that I got to see Madame Annelies. She was in a white gown and was escorted by the nurse. She was brought up on deck so she could have a look at Singapore. But it was clear she wasn’t really taking any notice of anything at all. I guessed from the first that it was actually the nurse who wanted to get a look at Singapore, not Madame Annelies. It was as if she had lost interest in everything.

  I quickly moved closer to her, pretending not to know her. She was not looking at Singapore at all. Her head was bowed down as if to watch the waves playing against the side of the ship. But it was clear she wasn’t paying attention to anything really. Her hair was neatly combed, and from where I stood I could smell perfume.

  Her face was very pale. The nurse never let go of Madame’s waist, a sign that she was in a very weak state.

  A few score passengers went ashore to have a look around Singapore. Before disembarking they all had to stop and take a look at Madame Annelies. Those who intended to get their view of Singapore from the ship’s deck felt, just like me, that they must seek a place close to her. Their feeling of pity and compassion showed on their faces, but no one spoke, except here and there somebody might whisper.

  Madame Annelies’s paleness was most evident in her lips, and she took no notice of anybody’s stares.

  I tried to get as close as possible without arousing suspicion. I was going to try to let her know that she wasn’t alone on her journey to the Netherlands. But it seemed she paid no heed to either sound or voice. I spoke out my name as loudly as possible to an old Chinaman who, in fact, did not at all wish for my company: Jan Dapperste alias Panji Darman.

  The old Chinaman was quite surprised at my attentions, but Annelies still didn’t seem to care about anything going on around her. She didn’t even glance around. She just kept on with her observation of the sea below. It was her nurse who turned around. I couldn’t look her in the eye because of a feeling that I was doing something wrong. And the nurse seemed to understand: I had deliberately spoken my name aloud.

  She pulled Madame along, leading her off by the hand away from that spot. I didn’t dare follow close behind. But then just for a moment, no more than a moment, Madame looked at me; I think she recognized me. But she stayed silent, not showing any special interest.

  I followed them from a distance. Annelies was led up and down other stairs with great difficulty and effort until, at last, they went into a cabin that was clearly not a passenger cabin. Perhaps that was her room, perhaps not. There was no name on the door, just a number.

  After I discovered this cabin, I began to hang about there. But there was still no sign of Annelies. Perhaps tomorrow or the day after. But her nurse does from time to time come out of the cabin. Perhaps it is the ship’s clinic? But I soon rejected that idea, because the clinic clearly isn’t there; I know that for sure.

  My good Mama and Minke, this is as much as I can report at the moment. Perhaps at our next port of call there will be some further progress which I can report.

  Then there was Panji Darman’s letter stamped Colombo.

  It appears that the nurse did notice me. One day I was summoned by the captain. His letter was addressed to Panji Darman, alias Robert Jan Dapperste. I went to the cabin mentioned in the letter and, indeed, I found the captain there.

  “You are going to the Netherlands, yes?” I nodded. “You came on board at Surabaya, yes?” I nodded again. “You will continue your schooling there?”

  “No, I am going on business,” I answered.

  “Business. As young as you?”

  “Yes. I think the younger one starts the better.”

  “Very good. What will you be trading in?”

  “Spices, cinnamon from East Java mainly.”

  “Yes, Europe has a craze for cinnamon at the moment. What is the name of your company? Oh, yes, Speceraria, isn’t it?”

  The captain just watched me, completely at ease, then asked as if totally disinterested: “You no doubt have heard the name Mellema?”

  “Everybody in Surabaya has.”

  “What about Annelies Mellema?”

  “I saw her with her husband once at the H.B.S. graduation ceremony.”

  “Does she know you?”

  “Perhaps. Her husband did introduce me to her once.”

  “Don’t keep using that word husband. She has no husband yet.”

  “I know her husband. We graduated together.”

  “Forget all that, Tuan. Are you willing to help us—that is, if you do know Miss Mellema? Her condition is very pathetic, very sad. Every day she must be forced to eat even porridge or an egg. She must also be forced to take a drink. She no longer wants to care for herself. She has handed herself over to others to do as they wish with her. She has lost all her will. Her beauty moves the heart of all who see her.”

  Even though I tried my best to hide my feelings, I still feel my words were too enthusiastic.

  “What can I do to help?”

  “She doesn’t want to speak at all. If she was willing to talk to someone, her condition might improve. Will you help us? Though I must remind you again that she is not Mrs. but Miss.”

  “Of course I am willing to help, Captain.”

  “As long as you remember, she is not Mrs.,” he repeated.

  Mama and Minke,

  Now I will try to tell you in as much detail as possible of my meeting with Madame Annelies. But forgive these inadequate writings of mine. As I said in an earlier letter, I write not because I am good at writing, but in order to carry out my responsibilities.

  The captain took me to his cabin where I had earlier seen the nurse take Madame Annelies. He knocked and then entered. I followed behind. Madame Annelies was sitting propped up in bed. Her eyes were closed. The nurse inside greeted the captain with a “Good morning,” and reported on the patient’s health.

  “Has the doctor been in yet?”

  “Yes, Captain.”

  “This is Mr. Dapperste.”

  “Oh, yes, Mr. Dapperste, can you help us? Keep Miss Mellema company? She won’t speak to us. We will leave you here with Miss Mellema. Perhaps because she knows you, she will want to talk. We thank you beforehand, Mr. Dapperste,” and she left with the captain.

  Madame Annelies just sat there propped up in the bed. Under the bed there was a chamber pot and bottles of water. Everything was tidy, lacking in nothing. The porthole seemed to be kept always half closed. The washbasin and cupboard were both clean. There were no cockroaches to be seen anywhere.

  I came up close to Annelies and whispered into her ear: “Mevrouw, Mevrouw Annelies.”

  She showed no reaction. I pulled a chair over and, sitting down, I watched her. She looked so thin and weak. I took hold of her arm and I felt how loose and thin her flesh was. I tried to think what to do. I tried to recall everything I had ever heard about her and about how she was looked after when she was ill the other time. After observing her for quite some time, I sat on the edge of the bed. I repeated my earlier whisperings. Still no reaction.

  I whispered again: “Mevrouw, Mevrouw, Minke!”

  She opened her eyes but still had no desire to look at me. Then I remembered what Mama said once, as she herself had been told by Dr. Martinet: Annelies didn’t like white people. I held out my arm under her eyes and called her again. She lifted up her eyes and looked at me.

  Mama, Minke, how startled I was to see those eyes without any sparkle in them. How different she had been on that day of the graduation party! How different on her wedding day when I was so busily tidying up all the wedding presents in the wedding room! How great was the torment she had suffered that it could cause the light in her eyes to be put out!

  I know Annelies well, and Mama and Minke too. How much she has suffered, Mama and Minke. I know you all as people of noble heart. No, Mama, Minke, I have no regrets at shedding tears for people who are so generous, helpful, noble; and all these are things praised highly in Christianity. Why now are you al
l suffering this torment, which none of you deserve?

  I continued my whispering: “Robert Jan Dapperste alias Panji Darman is here. Mevrouw is not alone.”

  Her eyes blinked quickly. How grateful I was to have my efforts answered! She was going to talk. But no. She didn’t blink again, her awareness died away, and I heard a long drawn-out breath blown out from her chest. She held my hand. She was going to speak: Madame Annelies moved her lips. But no sound came from her mouth. She nodded weakly.

  I also knew that Dr. Martinet had drugged her the other time. As if I were a doctor, I took a sniff of her breath. There was no smell of medicine. She was obviously not being drugged. But her condition was that of someone under sedation: She was half awake, half asleep.

  All right, it doesn’t matter if there is no response to my whispers. Who knows, she still might be awake. So I explained to her that I had been sent by Mama and Minke to guard her and befriend her on her journey. On hearing the name Minke, her eyes blinked out a flash of light again. But it too lasted only for a moment, then it died away once more.

  I had heard about the advice Dr. Martinet had once given to Minke, so I began to carry out that advice. As if I were Minke himself, I began to tell her beautiful and wonderful stories. I didn’t know whether she was listening or not. I whispered close into her ears. Ah, even if she wasn’t conscious, at least my whisperings would find their way into her dreams. I came so near to her as I whispered that I felt ashamed because I was so intimately close to the wife of a true friend. I shook myself free of those feelings. Forgive me, Minke.

  For about an hour I talked and talked; then I realized that she had fallen asleep, really asleep, propped up against the wall. I laid her down on the bed and covered her with a blanket.

  To be honest, my dear Mama and Minke, I have not been successful. She is still shutting herself off from the outside world.

  Mama and Minke, I promise I will keep on trying, whatever the results. It is God who decides in the end.

  The next letter from Panji Darman was postmarked Port Said and it read as follows.

  Since leaving Colombo and right up until entering the Red Sea, the weather has been exceedingly hot during the day. I can hardly stand staying in the cabin. And on top of all that, there were the great waves and ocean swell before the entrance to the Bab-el-Mandeb Straits; it has been almost unbearable. The ship’s clinic is always full of people. But despite these conditions, Madame Annelies hasn’t been affected at all. It is as if she has become immune to the effects of changes in weather, or has already lost her sensitivity to such things.

  She was never taken to the clinic. The nurse says that the doctor always visits her cabin. But I never meet him, even though I care for Annelies and keep her company every single day. Perhaps he visits before I come to the cabin.

  Mama, Minke, I am caring for and befriending her in appearance only. The reality is not what I hoped for. I still haven’t been able to get her to speak. It is as though there is some dense mist that blankets her mind. I don’t know whether that mist is the result of medicines or something that has grown from within her. I don’t know. Because I have never met the doctor, I have never been able to get an explanation.

  The nurse too has never been willing to give an explanation.

  Forgive my stupidity.

  In that hot weather and during those high seas, Madame Annelies never left her bed. Her health was worsening. Several times I have seen the food spoon-fed into her mouth by the nurse only to stop there, unchewed. I began to worry that the nurse would become cranky with all this. So I have taken over her task. Let her go up on deck to get some fresh air, or do whatever she likes.

  Mama, Minke, forgive me, because I don’t know what Madame Annelies’s religion actually is, even though I know she was married according to Islam. I need to ask your forgiveness because every time I leave her cabin I need to pray at her bedside. I pray for her safety, health, and happiness, then I say good night and return to my own cabin.

  I am not in error to do that, am I? I only know Christian teachings and I only know how to pray in the Christian way. I could never bring myself to surrender her at night to that nurse without leaving her with a little prayer.

  Every night before I sleep I pray also for Mama and Minke, that you both stay strong and wise.

  I am never able to sleep before eleven o’clock. My thoughts do not seem able to get away from Madame Annelies and her withdrawal from the world. Ya, God, Allah, allow me a day when I can meet Annelies again in good health, smiling and talking happily as I have so often seen her in Wonokromo. So far it is only her muteness that I meet.

  Even so, I have not lost hope. God will always give me the strength to try to guard and befriend her.

  The letter postmarked Amsterdam was the longest.

  As time goes on I become more anxious and saddened. Mama, Minke: Madame Annelies’s health is deteriorating rapidly. This started happening after we left the Mediterranean Sea and the Straits of Gibraltar. Somewhere near the Bay of Biscay the ship was attacked by a storm. Great waves rolled over, washing forth all over the ship’s deck. All the ship’s portholes were closed up tight. For the first time, Madame Annelies groaned. Only I was there to befriend her. The floor of the cabin swayed beneath my feet and it felt as if it was going to turn over. The engine’s voice trembled as if giving up all hope. I didn’t stop vomiting.

  In this situation I knelt down beside Madame Annelies’s bed, gripping it with one hand, and I prayed that the ship would not sink and that Madame would quickly recover once we had made land and that she would be recovered forever and that she be given the strength to endure the period of her guardianship, only one or two years.

  Only twice she groaned; then she gave voice no more.

  This storm receded about four hours later. It was then that Madame Annelies started to soil her bed. The nurse only rarely attended to her now. Forgive me, Minke, that I had to care for your wife in such a situation. Christ was leading me in this work. May His love lighten her suffering.

  And that was the situation as we entered the Channel. I prayed even more, because that was all I could do, pray and pray. If the hearts and minds of men can accomplish no more, is it not to God that we then call out?

  I had such high hopes when the ship entered the ‘t Ij Canal. I whispered to her:

  “Mevrouw, we have arrived in the Netherlands, the land of your own ancestors. Awaken now. We will not be tormented by the sea any longer. You can laugh and smile now! Face these new things with courage and in health.”

  She still didn’t speak, just lay there, rolled over on the bed.

  “Mevrouw, we’ve arrived in the Netherlands.”

  Ya Allah! Mama, Minke, she opened her eyes. Her hand moved; she seemed to be looking for my hand.

  “Jan Dapperste is here,” I said to her.

  “Jan,” she called out weakly for the first time.

  “Mevrouw, Jan is here.”

  Without looking at me, she said weakly: “Be a friend to my husband.”

  “Of course. He is following on the next ship. You must get well quickly, Mevrouw.”

  She didn’t speak again.

  Then the captain came into the cabin with the nurse. He thanked me and requested me to leave Madame Annelies. I hesitated but I had no choice; it was an order.

  All the passengers were ordered to assemble so that their identity papers could be examined, as well as, for those who weren’t Netherlands Indies subjects, their health cards and passports. Because I had been in the cabin all this time, I didn’t know where these officials had boarded. There were also Marechausee among them.

  After the inspection I hurriedly found my suitcase and then took up a position where I could keep an eye on the cabin. Two dock workers stood outside. Without my realizing it, the ship had already docked. A policeman then passed me, accompanied by an old woman dressed all in black. They too were headed towards Annelies’s cabin.

  Perhaps that was Mrs. Amelia Mellema-H
ammers?

  Then I heard them talking as they walked past me, frowning seriously: “Why has no one from the Mellema family come to meet her?”

  “It’s enough that I am here with that letter of authority I showed you,” answered the old woman, who, it now turned out, was not Madame Annelies’s guardian.

  “She is seriously ill. You will not be able to take her. She must go straight into a hospital.”

  “A contagious disease?”

  “No!”

  “I will take care of it all in the proper manner.”

  They headed for the cabin where I had spent so much time lately. They ordered the dockers to enter the cabin too. Not long afterwards, Annelies was carried out on a stretcher, accompanied by the nurse, Marechausee, the policeman, and the old woman in her black clothes. I trailed behind them as they disembarked.

  It was drizzling rain and the cold made its way into my bones.

  Seeing me, the nurse said: “You don’t have to follow us.”

  “I only want to know which hospital she’s being taken to. I would like to visit her.”

  “This lady,” she spoke again and pointed to the old woman—“will take her straight to Huizen.”

  “If that’s the case, then let me help her.”

  “I won’t be able to pay you anything,” said the old woman.

  “I hope for no payment, Mevrouw,” I answered.

  “I have no money to pay for your train fare,” she said.

  “I will pay for it myself. You don’t need to worry.”

  “I have no money for food for you either,” she said.

  “I will buy my own food.”

  “You can buy your food from me.”

  “Good.”

  “Very well. Then let’s go.”

  We left for the train station in a horse carriage. The old woman got down and went to buy the train tickets. Madame Annelies was left in my care. We all climbed aboard the train. We laid Annelies down on a seat with her head on my lap. Luckily, there weren’t many passengers that day.

  The woman sat across from me. She didn’t speak. I forced myself to speak to her. Her name was Annie Ronkel, a widow.