Roses are Blue

By Diet van Velzel

Twelve prickly tales, just as possibly true as roses are blue. Enjoy this unpredictable mix of fantasy, fairy tale, animal fable, adventure story, romance, myth, Christmas story and sci-fi. Even if reality is given a funny twist, you will discover familiar themes like (pleasant) obsessions, class differences, weighing too much, crime and punishment, getting pregnant, getting wrinkles, growing roses, waste management and , last but not least, love. For ages 10 – 100.

• Language: English
• Publisher: VanVelzel
• Release date: Mar 2, 2016
• ISBN: 9789080750906

Book preview

Roses are Blue

twelve tales

Diet van Velzel

Also by Diet van Velzel - aka DvV

in Dutch:

Asja’s Waterbollies & andere verhalen

15 Stories for children (3-5)

Waaike en Windo – in actie voor het Blauwe Meer

Children’s book (7-10)

Lyrics CD De Muizenkleur Ballade & andere liedjes

14 songs (5 – 85)

produced with Ruud Bergamin, musician.

Diet van Velzel - aka DvV

Roses are Blue

twelve tales

Published by VanVelzel

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

First edition

© 2014 Diet van Velzel - aka DvV

All rights reserved.

For contact and information

- address Diet van Velzel on Facebook

- go to www.dietvanvelzel.nl

Book design: Basis Ontwerp, Rotterdam, The Netherlands

Cover illustration Diet van Velzel

Printed edition manufactured by Bestenzet, The Netherlands

Published by VanVelzel

ISBN 978 90 807509 0 6

For Janne van den Noort (1919 -2008) and

Willy van Velzel (1916 – 1973)

Acknowledgements

Several very kind people with critical minds commented on my manuscripts, for which I owe them all a debt of gratitude. Mark Harvey faithfully and analytically read quite a few stories, Barbara Bishop came up with lots of expert advice, Ruud Bergamin discussed unfolding plots with me, and Maria Bolten (†) urged me to go for clear story lines. Elly Fawzi and Shannon de Beus made very useful suggestions regarding a number of stories. Others made helpful comments. Special thanks to Karen Bhowal, Metty Fennema, Dik Habbema, Jan Hendrik van de Kamp, Egbert Kemner, Janice Lakers and Annelies Weener.

And then Bas Hoogstad, graphic designer, prepared everything for publication. Many, many thanks for your patience and enthusiasm!

Last but certainly not least I would like to express my gratitude to Walter de Wilde for greatly helping me turn Roses are Blue into an e-book, while my son, Krijn Leeflang, kindly shared some of his digital know-how with me at critical moments in the process.

Contents

1 Gimmy’s Christmas

2 Skander’s Exam

3 Done Deed

4 Brainy Bessie

5 Drops from Bottles

6 Very Blue

7 The Christmas Present

8 Prince of the Lowland Lakes

9 Felicia

10 Fair Play

11 Mousy Hair

12 A Sneezy Christmas

1    Gimmy’s Christmas

Gimmy manoeuvred herself, big carrier bags and all, expertly through the revolving door of BeeHyves, the city’s most exclusive department store. After hours of serious shopping there was only one thing left to complete her new party outfit. In a wonderful strapless dress she would finally make Bob Bergman fall for her, tonight at the Christmas buffet of the Roddedam Network Society. Bob was a well-known architect and a charming man to boot. If she could seduce him into a relationship, she fantasized, that would be very good for her and her communications agency.

She took her time choosing a chic sexy pantyhose. On this Saturday, only two days before Christmas, there were long queues at the pay desks but she knew how to push her way forward. It got her some angry looks, which she ignored. That was always best. Now for home! It was getting late but she could not resist taking the escalator to Ladies’ Wear, if only to make sure that she had already bought the best party dress possible. Besides, a career girl like her never had enough clothes in her closet.

Right after stepping off the escalator she found herself staring at a window dummy in a red asymmetrical dress by Prala, one of her favourite labels. An outsize Christmas-tree angel, as big as a pigeon, was perched on the mannequin’s lacy left shoulder, his little trumpet charmingly entangled in her hair.

I’ve got to have that stunning dress, Gimmy thought. She could not find it anywhere in the racks so she asked a saleswoman hurrying by.

‘That dress on the doll is the only one left and it’s a small size,’ the woman said.

‘I’d like to try it on.’

‘But it’s really quite small and it’s too busy right now to take it off.’

‘I’ll help,’ Gimmy said.

In the end the shop assistant gave in. With pursed lips she lifted the dummy from its base. ‘If you’d please follow me, madam,’ the woman said and then led the way, the dummy sticking up over her head. It caused a bit of a stir but Gimmy pretended not to notice. They went into a special fitting room where they had some space. With difficulty they freed the Christmas-tree angel from the mannequin’s hair and removed the dress. The saleswoman didn’t say one word more than was strictly necessary. Bad luck for her if she doesn’t like going out of her way for a customer, Gimmy thought.

‘Can I try the dress on in here,’ she asked. It would save her the trouble of finding a free cubicle.

‘Yes, by all means,’ the saleswoman said and left.

Gimmy lost no time and put on the exquisite piece of clothing. As she had expected she looked terrific in it. The soft material clung to her perfect body and the flaming colour beautifully offset her middle blond hair. Unfortunately the long zip in the side seam wouldn’t quite close. A couple of good tugs did the trick. She would hardly be able to eat anything at the buffet but that would be all right. With approval she looked at herself, turning around and around in front of the mirror. Suddenly there was a buzzing sound.

No! It could not be true! It was that Christmas angel! His whizzing wings kept him suspended in mid air, right in front of her!

‘Gabrio Cheruburchin. How do you do?’ a thin voice said.

He flew at her and before she could react he stuck his little trumpet in her ear. High slow notes wafted through her brain.

Her head seemed to be floating. She tried to fend off the cherub, but her arms were too heavy.

‘Resistance is futile. Do as I say!’ he snapped.

‘What? … What do you think …!’ she started and then her tongue became all numb. She could no longer get the words out. Suddenly it was dark. Only the exit sign over the door was still on. When she felt the nasty creature land on her shoulder and stick his trumpet into her ear, she wanted to scream, but a raspy squeak was all that came out of her mouth.

‘Now walk!’ the cherub told her through the trumpet. It was like getting orders through an ear receiver. Without a will of her own she stepped out into the dark shop floor full of panicky customers pushing their way to the still lit stairwells.

People bumped into her but she couldn’t ask for their help.

What was the cherub up to? Where were they going? His penetrating voice never stopped urging her on: ‘Keep going, keep going, turn right! … Just a little further … stop! Here we are. Now stand on the dummy’s base!’

She did as she was told. There was no other way. She couldn’t think anymore. With heavy, unwilling legs she got onto the raised circle in front of her.

‘Now strike a nice elegant pose! Come on! Quickly now! One leg a little forward, one hand on your hip!’

The lights came on again. A soothing voice over the public address system said, ‘Ladies and gentlemen, our apologies for the brief power failure on this floor. It has now been solved. Enjoy your Christmas shopping at BeeHyves.’

She wanted to scream. Her whole body was stiffening up and after some time her mind began to realise the meaning of all this: she, Guilberthe More, Director of More Communication had turned into a window dummy, a stupid doll, an object!

Many critical impersonal female eyes checked her over, in seconds calculating the potential of the dress. A beautiful girl fingered the material. The saleswoman who had helped her before passed by, held her step for a moment and shrugged her shoulders. She probably thought that one of her colleagues had put the dress back on the dummy.

‘This is where you’ll stay for the time being, greedy Gimmy - gimme quick! - gimme more!’ Gabrio commanded. ‘You just pay attention!’ As if she had a choice! Her eyes were open in a fixed stare. She couldn’t flicker an eyelid.

A middle-aged couple shuffled past, two people, lost in their not so happy thoughts, out of place in the smart glittering store. They looked like … no, they were her parents! They obviously were not infected by the spirit of the season when people were eagerly looking forward to spending time with loved ones. If only I had definitely promised to have dinner with them on Christmas Day instead of saying I’d drop by some time with a present, Gimmy wished. I haven’t even bought them proper gifts, just a box of chocolates. I’m their only child. If only I’d …’

‘Look who’s here now!’ the cherub interrupted her thoughts.

It could not be true! It was Bob Bergman, arm in arm with Charlotte, the young student who cleaned his office for some extra pocket money.

‘Let’s see what happens, Gimmy!’ horrible Gabrio whispered. ‘This should be good!’

Bob and the girl were coming straight towards her. ‘Look at that dummy,’ Charlotte cried, ‘just like Gimmy More!’

‘Oh, stop it!’ Bob said. ‘No Gimmy More now, please. The woman has been after me for ages!’ He pulled Charlotte close.

‘Come on, let’s have a cappuccino here.’

Cold doll’s tears were freezing up behind Gimmy’s eyelids.

If only she could disappear from the face of the earth! A jeering little tune from the cherub’s trumpet made the whole situation even more terrible. How she would have liked to lash out at her tormentor!

It was near closing time. The last customers hurried towards the escalators. Within her stiff body Gimmy was fighting a losing battle. The tough, glamorous self-image that she had worked on for so long was falling apart.

‘Ah, here he comes! Watch that man, Gimmy - gimme more!’ the cherub hissed, prodding her ear with his trumpet.

What now? Hadn’t she had enough? She saw nobody she knew. But … that tall, not unattractive man approaching from the right, wasn’t that? No … yes, it was Harry, her assistant! This morning she had left him at the office, typing away at his computer. She knew he was in love with her. Very convenient, she had always thought. He really worked very hard for her.

Here he was now, only a couple of steps away. Protectively he held a big soft package against his chest. A big bear, she guessed; for his nephew. ‘Take me with you!’ she wanted to scream. Why didn’t he see her? He was walking right past. In seconds he would be gone, leaving her behind, leaving her here, alone with this nasty cherub.

Suddenly Harry looked her straight in the face and stood still. His eyes were tired and red-rimmed with working too long and hard. What was he thinking? He swallowed, turned and marched off.

‘Well, Gimmy, what do you make of that?’ Gabrio again.

She wished she was that bear in Harry’s arms. And not just to be rescued from this place. What would it have been like to spend Christmas with Harry? Why had she driven him so hard, heaping mountains of work on him? Did he resent it? Had he given up on her?

By now Women’s Wear was deserted. Some last employees were leaving too. As soon as the lights went out, Gabrio left his perch on her shoulder to make merry with his fellow cherubs somewhere else. Their singing and laughing became louder and louder.

Gimmy was desperate. Was she going to stay, spending the night here in BeeHyves? Alone like this, practically paralysed?Tonight at the buffet her absence would be noticed by some of the guests but they would just think that she had changed her mind about coming. Bob would even be relieved that she wasn’t there. And then? How about tomorrow, Christmas Eve? As it was a Sunday, the store would open in the afternoon but nobody would come and search for her here. Hardly anybody would miss her over Christmas, she realized. Her office was already closed for the holidays, even Harry wouldn’t miss her. And her parents wouldn’t start worrying until well into Boxing Day.

Everything was wrong, she herself was wrong. She had done wrong. If only she had treated other people differently! Warm tears started trickling down her chilly cheeks. All through the night the tears kept coming. She cried until, very early in the morning, the city’s church bells started to chime and Gabrio came flying towards her, precariously holding a steaming cup. To her surprise she could use her hands to take the cup from him. She could smell it was spiced wine. ‘Here, drink up and stop blubbering!’ the cherub said. ‘You’re free to go!’

With each sip of the hot spicy drink she felt life flowing back into her body.

Half an hour later Gabrio showed her out through a back door. ‘A very happy Christmas, Guilberthe,’ he said, without a trace of his usual mockery.

‘Thank you very much, Gabrio,’ she answered, equally serious. ‘You too!’ And then she was out, walking down the quiet streets with her absurd carrier bags.

As soon as she got home she phoned her parents to tell them she’d love to come to dinner on Christmas Day tomorrow. Then she decided to make another call. She knew Harry never slept late, not even on a day off. After a couple of rings that seemed to last for ages he answered the phone. ‘Hi Gimmy,’ he said, his familiar voice still husky from sleep. ‘Anything wrong?’ Her heart skipped a beat.

‘No, nothing is wrong,’ and then, almost shy, she asked