A Very Old Coat

Clouds hung low and gray in the sky. Rains which came down in a steady downpour, drummed on the Tulip House’s aluminum frame. Marina Van der Veld sat in her rocking chair. She was wrapped in a blanket, trying to keep warm.
While Trudy came home before the rains came, Jani stayed after school, playing floor hockey in the gymnasium. The basketball team practiced on the gym floor, while Jani and his friends played hockey on the cramped auditorium stage. They stacked their coats and backpacks along the open edge of the stage, creating a barrier to stop the puck from going onto the basketball court. Two hockey nets sat at the far sides of the stage.
Rolf grabbed a duffel bag from the equipment locker and stuffed it with four red jerseys and four blue ones. He reached into the duffel bag first, pulling out a blue jersey. Jani pulled a red jersey out of the duffel bag. They passed the duffel bag around to all the boys. Everyone put on their team colors and went to their opposite sides.
“I guess we’re on opposite teams,” said Jani.
Instead of hockey gloves, the boys used catcher’s mitts. Rolf played goalie, tying a scarf around his face, Jani played goalie at the other end, tying his jacket backwards around his waist.
Rolf’s team had a few of the older boys who actually played in a hockey league, including his older brother, Mattias. Rolf’s team took the early lead, 4-1.
Slap slots and wrist shots flew at Jani. The apron of his jacket deflected most of the shots. It was Jani’s best defense. Jani pushed the puck down floor towards his forward. Mattias intercepted the puck and moved in towards Jani. Jani crouched down, ready to stop the shot.
Mattias flung the puck and Jani stretched his legs like a butterfly, catching the puck in the folds of his jacket apron. Mattias lifted his stick, sweeping it between Jani’s legs. The blade hooked Jani’s jacket pocket. Mattias pulled back on his stick, ripping the pocket at the seam wide open. Everyone onstage stopped playing hockey.
“I’m sorry,” said Mattias.
“It’s okay. It’s a very old coat,” said Jani.
“Isn’t your mum going to bad mad?” asked Rolf.
“Maybe she will, maybe she won’t. I can’t change what happened,” he shrugged.
Jani and the boys played for an hour or so more, until an announcement came over the gymnasium speaker.
“Jani Van der Veld, please come to the principal’s office. You have a phone call.”
“That’s probably my mother, wondering where I am,” said Jani. He packed his bags and went to the office. Sure enough, his mother was on the phone,wondering if he was going to be home for dinner.
“What are we having?” asked Jani.
“Will that be the deciding factor on whether you come home or not?” asked his mother.
“No, I don’t think so.”
“I know how much you and your father like surprises, so you’ll find out when you get home,” she replied.
“Oh mom,” groaned Jani.
“Just come home soon,” she said.
Jani hung up the phone and hurried home. Everyone was in their usual places: Trudy in her bedroom, father in the workshop, and his mother was sitting in the Tulip House, sewing patches on the knees of Jani’s pants.
“Goede Avond, dear,” she said.
“Goede Avond, Moeder.” Jani sat in the chair beside her.
“How was your day?” she asked.
“It was good, but not perfect,” he replied.
“Not perfect? Why not?”
Jani displayed the torn pocket.
“That’s no big deal, Jani. As your Great Grandma Gertrude used to say, ‘Everything in the world needs repaired or replace at one time or another.’”
“I was hoping you would say something like that.”
Jani handed the jacket to his mother. She began stitching the torn pocket. “Your father has been in his little cave, banging and sawing things all evening. What do you suppose he’s making?”
Jani shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know.”
“You do, too,” she scolded.
“I made a promise not to tell,” said Jani.
“I don’t know if I can hold out much longer,” said Mrs. Van der Veld.
“Doesn’t knowing ruin the surprise?” asked Jani.
“I don’t think so,” she replied, “You could just give me hints.”
“The things he’s making with Mr. Van Heeswijk aren’t the main gift.”
“Things? He’s making things? Oh, please give me another hint.”
“That’s all you get for today,” replied Jani.
“I guess that’s better than nothing,” she sighed.
Mrs. Van der Veld made the last stitch, then bit the thread with her teeth, chopping it loose. She gave the pocket a tug, testing the seam.
“Try it on,” she said.
Jani donned his jacket, walking back and forth across the garden row.
“No, test the pocket,” urged mother.
“It works like a pocket,” said Jani.
“Good as new,” she said, “I should be a seamstress for Mr. DeVries.”
Jani pulled off his jacket, looking at the label at the back of the neck. The words “DeVries Haberdashery” were printed next to a shield, with a red and white diagonal design upon the shield.
“Why do they call it a coat of arms?” asked Jani.
“Why do they call it a coat of arms?
“In the earliest days, warriors wore a coat over their chain mail. This way people could tell who was in their army and who wasn’t.”
“Like two teams on a voetball field?”
“Precisely,” answered Mrs. Van der Veld, “every army had their own coat of arms.”
“Didn’t the British create the coat of arms?”
“Not so. You’ve been to the castle in DeHaars, right?”
Jani nodded.
“I think they were around before the dark ages.”
Neither Jani nor his mother knew the long history of the Coat of Arms. At one point, every country, every village, even every family had their own coat of arms. Above the entrance at the Castle DeHaars, two lions held a shield in place over the gate.
The Roman Empire extended far beyond the walls of Rome in Italy. The Roman Army had bishops in every province, including Utrecht. His church ruled over the province of Utrecht. The Dom tower was an outpost, with a high vantage point, so the Bishop’s men could keep watch over the land.
Taking a break from the workshop, Mr. Van der Veld came upstairs to see his wife and son.
“What are we talking about today?” asked Mr. Van der Veld.
“Knights and dragons,” said Jani.
“Jani, you know dragons are make believe,” said mother, “We were jut talking about the coat of arms and how Utrecht was in the olden days.”
“What was Utrecht like in the beginning?” asked Jani.
“There were fortresses around the city, like the Castle DeHaar,” said Mr. Van der Veld.
“In third grade, I went there on a field trip.”
“I remember,” said father, “these castles were part of the defense lines, When they were attacked, they would retract their drawbridge and fight from within the castle walls.”
“I remember the moat,” said Jani.
“The entire city of Utrecht used to be surrounded by castle walls and a moat.”
“Why?”
“The Bishop of Utrecht lived at Dom tower. It was very important to protect him any way they could, even if it meant putting a fence and a moat around the entire city.”
“The Dutch probably just considered it another canal to cross,” said Jani.
“Probably,” chuckled Mr. Van der Veld, “but they was a necessity, too. To the Dutch, nothing is as important as the land he stands upon. We fought for every inch of Holland.”
“Why don’t we fight like that today?”
“In those times, Holland was more of a collection of cities than a country.”
“What happened?”
“The French came in and unified the Netherlands.”
“But I don’t speak French.”
“That’s because the Dutch wanted their freedom, too. They became a country and united to free themselves. At one time, the national flag of Holland showed evidence of our Independence.”
“What do you mean?”
“The Dutch flag has three stripes, just like the French flag. Instead of one red stripe, we had one orange stripe, in honor of William of Orange.”
“Is that why our national color is orange?”
“That’s precisely why.”
“Aren’t the stripes red, white, and blue today?”
“The first theory is that the orange used to dye the cloth was hard to produce. The second is that the House of Orange became unpopular.”
“Which one do you believe?”
“I think I prefer the one about the color. As a Netherlander, I am very proud to be Dutch, just like King William was proud of his country.”
“I like that, too.”
After a bit of silence, Mr. Van der Veld’s stomach grumbled.
“I think someone’s hungry,” chuckled Mrs. Van der Veld.
“Even though my tummy isn’t talking, I’m also hungry,” added Jani.
“Luckily, I planned on frying some fish. It’ll be ready in a few moments. Can everyone wait just a few moments?”
Mr. Van der Veld tapped his stomach. “Can you wait a few moments?” His stomach grumbled back at him.
“He said he can’t wait.”
Mrs. Van der Veld grabbed a sweet biscuit from the end table and handed it to her husband.
“This should hold him over until supper’s ready.”
Mrs. Van der Veld went to the kitchen and put a haddock into the oven with lemon and butter slices. She fried potatoes on the stove top. Jani took his mended clothes into his room and put them away. His old jacket, hung on the coat rack, was good as new.
Jani helped his mother, setting places at the table and getting himself ready, too. Within minutes, everyone was gathered around the family dinner table, fighting over their own territory, the baked fish fresh out of the oven.