Up, Over, and In

In the week before Saint Nicholas Day, Jani’s father and Mr. Van Heeswijk worked in the workshop lday and night. Hammers banged and saws buzzed, keeping the Van der Veld’s up later and later every night. Finally, it was the Sunday before the holiday and all noises came to a stop.
Mrs. Van der Veld served breakfast for her children, including molasses-sweetened porridge, milk, and speculaas. Trudy broke off a piece of speculaas and dunked the gingerbread cracker in her milk until it was soft. As they enjoyed their food, their father came in through the front door with Mr. Van Heeswijk.
“Come on, Jani. It’s time,” he said.
“Time for what?” asked Mrs. Van der Veld.
‘You can come, too. We’re going to need all the help we can get.”
“Is it the surprise?”
Mr. Van der Veld led everyone to the workshop. He undid the combination lock which had given his wife such trouble te night before and opened the door. Inside, pieces of handmade furniture lined the walls. Mrs. Van der Veld gasped.
“That’s nothing,” said Jani.
“I know,” replied Mrs. Van der Veld, “Your father has been telling me that for the last month.”
“This isn’t even the real surprise.”
Mrs. Van der Veld gave Jani a curious look, “What do you mean by the real surprise?”
“You’ll see,” said father, “let’s just load up the truck.”
The truck sat in the alley behind the Van der Veld’s house. They loaded the truck quickly. The remaining furniture would have to be taken on the second trip.Before Mr. Van der Veld secured the truck’s back door, mother looked at all the furniture sitting on the truck bed.
“There isn’t enough room in that houseboat for this much furniture,” she exclaimed.
Mr. Van der Veld nodded, “We found a way to make it fit.”
Meanwhile, Mrs. Van Heeswijk sat in the Dom cathedral with both her sons. Being the last sermon before Saint Nicholas Day, the church was filled with people, dressed in their Sunday best.
“Mum, would it be possible if we could stop for lunch after church?” asked Mattias.
“I think that would be nice,” It was an usual treat to enjoy lunch with both her boys, let alone have them sitting neatly dressed in church.
The old Dom Cathedral stood in Utrecht since the beginning. The Spanish built the church for the Bishop of Utrecht. He acted, not only as religious leader, but political leader as well, overseeing the province of Utrecht. After time, the Dutch became unhappy with their leader. They revolted against the Bishop, protesting his methods of religious leadership. Eventually, he was overthrown. After he left, the Netherlanders followed their own form of Christianity. The church also changed from Catholic to Protestant.
While Mattias and Rolf kept their mother occupied, the truck traveled to the Oudegracht. Mr. Van der Veld parked the truck on the narrow street along a house row. He motioned to Mr. Van Heeswijk, who gave a set of keys to Mrs. Van der Veld.
“What are we doing?” she asked.
Mr. Van Heeswijk pointed at the house row. Everyone got out of the truck and went to the back. Mr. Van der Veld pulled out the ramp and threw open the back door. Mrs. Van der Veld looked at the keys. A white tag on the keys said “1328 Rovenolt.” She turned toward the house row, searching through the street numbers.
“Go ahead and open the door,” said father.
She approached the door to 1328 and inserted the key. With a twist of the knob, the door opened.
“Is this the surprise?” asked Mrs. Van der Veld.
“It sure is,” said Mr. Van Heeswijk proudly.
“It’s just beautiful!”
They entered the empty house. The halls were narrow, barely wide enough for a person to pass through. Immediately next to the front door, a set of steps climbed to the second floor. Mr. Van Heeswijk had just polished the wood plank flooring, which shined in the morning light.
Mr. Van Heeswijk and Mr. Van der Veld also painted each of the rooms. The living room was painted bright red and the kitchen was a sunny yellow. Upstairs, the master bedroom was painted in Mrs. Van Heeswijk’s favorite color, light green.
“She’s going to love it!” gasped Mrs. Van der Veld.
“We still have a lot of work to do. Anna and the boys are supposed to arrive at the boathouse just after noon.”
Jani and his father unloaded the smallest piece of furniture from the truck. As they approached the steps, Mr. Van der Veld stopped.
“We’re not even going to be able to fit this one in through the front door,” said Mr. Van der Veld.
“What do we do?” asked Jani.
“What all Dutch do,” he replied.
Mr. Van der Veld went to the truck and picked up a pole with a hook-end then walked into the house and up the stairs. They opened the second floor window. Jutting out from the house just above the window, a long arm held a block and tackle. Mr. Van der Veld untied the rope and sent the hook down to Mr. Van Heeswijk, waiting outside the house.
Mr. Van Heeswijk threw a blanket over the chest and tied the bundle with rope. He attached the hook and whistled. The rope traveled back and forth between two pulleys. One on the window hook and one on the hook attached to the chest. It traveled back to the ground.
Mr. Van Heeswijk tugged on the free end as Jani and his father watched. With each pull, the chest inches toward Jani and his father. When it reached the window, Mr. Van der Veld grabbed the bundle with his hook-arm and pulled it through the window.
They did the same with each piece of furniture. Unlike other houses around the world, Dutch houses stood side-by-side, tall and thin. Because of their constant battles with the sea, the Dutch were frugal, using the land as wisely as possible. Often, it meant building up instead of building out. It also meant sharing.
“Is this what you do at work?” asked Jani.
“I move items from between the inland and sea ports.”
“Do you use block and tackle to move furniture?”
“You’ve seen the warehouses. I just back my truck to the warehouse doors and open the back of my truck. Shippers load my truck, then I take it to another warehouse, where other shippers unload my truck.”
“Sometimes we use block and tackles at the warehouse where I work,” said Mr. Van Heeswijk.
“I thought you did the same job as my dad.”
“The warehouses your father and I work for are very different. The trailer for my truck is usually lifted off a freight ship by a large crane. It’s sort of like what we’re doing here: lifted up from the ground, over the sides of the boat, and into the cargo bay.”
“Why are there so many trucks?” asked Jani.
“Rotterdam, Amsterdam, and The Hague are some of the world’s largest seaports. The Dutch have been famous for their shipping trade for centuries.”
“Why do we trade? Why don’t we just keep all our stuff here?” asked Trudy.
“It goes back to being crowded. The Netherlands is one of the world’s smallest countries, yet it is one of the most crowded countries in the world,” answered her father.
“We have to trade the things we make with other countries so they will send us the things we can’t make ourselves.”
“Like what?” she asked.
“Like wheat, rye, and oats for bread,” said Mrs. Van der Veld.
“And raw iron, which we make into metal products in all of our factories.”
“Where do we get these things?”
“From all over,” answered her father, “A long time ago, New York was called New Amsterdam.”
“Really?”
“The Dutch traders named it after their Dutch home. They also traveled through the Indian Ocean to the Pacific. You’ve heard of New Zealand, right?”
Trudy nodded.
“It’s named after Zeeland, in the Netherlands. The Dutch settled throughout the world, searching for seaports to trade their goods. The Dutch East Indies company was named for their travels in Indonesia and Malaysia. Those islands were once called the Dutch East Indies.”
“Speaking of moving, we still have to pick another load from the workshop,” noted Mr. Van Heeswijk.
The movers got on the road again as Mrs. Van Heeswijk and her sons left Dom cathedral, headed for lunch. The second load was smaller than the first, but still rather large. They rushed in and out of the workshop, loading every last piece before closing up the truck and heading off to the house on Rovenolt Street.
Up, over, and in, the pieces were moved into the house one piece at a time. As was also the Dutch custom, people watched the aerobatics of heavy furniture lifted through second story windows with block and tackle.
Mr. Van Heeswijk looked at his watch. “We’re running out of time,” he stated, “I have to meet Marina and the boys at the houseboat.”
Jani’s father dropped Mr. Van Heeswijk off at the old house before returning to the new house. Mrs. Van der Veld led Jani and Trudy, dusting the furniture one last time. As soon as the truck stopped in front of the house, the children looked out the window. “False alarm,” Jani thought to himself. His father came in the front door and gave everything one last check. Exhausted, they sat down on the stairs, waiting for the Van Heeswijk family.
“We’re home!” Mrs. Van Heeswijk greeted her husband as she entered the houseboat.
“Turn around, we have to take a little trip.”
“I’m exhausted,” said Mrs. Van Heeswijk as she collapsed on the living room couch.
“Get up,” said Mattias as he grabbed his mother by the arm and attempted to pull her from her seat.
“What is with you boys today?” she asked.
“Just come along,” urged Rolf.
“Can’t it wait?” she asked.
“Not really,” replied Mr. Van Heeswijk, “I need you to co-operate for just a little bit.” He tied a bandana in a knot and blindfolded her eyes.
“This must be good,” she said.
The boys guided their mother to the car. With everyone in their seat, mr. Van Heeswijk started the car and drove it to Rovenolt Street. As they pulled in behind Mr. Van der Veld’s delivery truck, Jani went to the window.
“They’re here!”
The Van der Veld’s got up and assembled themselves in an orderly line in the living room.
Out in the car, things were a bit more disorganized. The boys led their mother up the sidewalk, only to have her stumble upon a curb.
“Let me take this off,” she said.
She pulled off the bandana and looked around.
“What is Mr. Van der Veld’s truck doing
Mr. Van Heeswijk offered his hand and his wife took it in hers. He led her to the front door and stopped.
“What?” she said.
“Here,” he replied as he slowly opened the front door
“Surprise!” the Van der Veld family shouted in unision.
Mrs. Van Heeswijk looked around.
“What is this?” she asked.
“We’ve always been talking about moving into a row house, so here you go.”
“What are we gong to do with the houseboat?”
“We can keep it or we can sell it. It really doesn’t matter,” said Mr. Van Heeswijk.
“It’s just fantastic.” Mrs. Van Heeswijk took the grand tour, walking from room to room. The only thing wrong with her new house was the position of the furniture. She enlisted the help of her movers, putting everything in it’s proper place. Still, it was simply a perfect holiday surprise, something Mrs. Van Heeswijk always wanted.