When I woke the next day, Ellie was spooning me. I shifted a little and realized she was sleeping so I laid there for maybe fifteen minutes until my bladder insisted I get out of bed. When I came out of the bathroom, El was in the kitchen making espresso. She wore a long t-shirt that hung mid-thigh. I was naked so I went upstairs to put on my boxers and shirt—if I was going to sit at the table, naked wouldn’t be so great. When I returned we drank espresso in the kitchen quietly, occasionally looking and smiling at one another. We didn’t speak a word and there was no need. When we were through, Ellie motioned for me to follow her into the bathroom and we showered together.
I loved the silence. It heightened the sensations of the water, her hands on me, mine on her. When we were done we took turns drying one another, taking our time. All the rushing busyness of life had ceased. There was only time, languid, carefree, unending. We were floating through a gravity-less space, a place where speeding up wasn’t possible. With time slowed, life became full. Only when time sped by did life feel empty; the desire for bells and whistles arose mostly because time went too fast to feel anything quiet or gentle.
As I was dressing in the same clothes I wore the previous day, Eliene called Auriana. I asked her how Auri was when she hung up. “Tired, but happy to be coming home today.” Weird to speak and hear Ellie’s voice. El told me she wanted to go out to get a welcome-home surprise for Auriana so I packed my things and got ready to go. I didn’t want to leave. I wanted to spend more time with her and see Auriana, but I recognized they needed time to themselves. I said to Ellie, though, “I don’t know what to do after the last couple of days. Everything is so … different. I’ll miss you.” She hugged me and gave me a kiss on the cheek. “I’m here. Send me an email, we’ll get together again. Auriana wants to see you again, too. She’ll be tired today, though.” I understood.
We hugged and I said goodbye, walking down the stairs in a daze. When I walked outside I hadn't left the apartment in days. Lifetimes had passed. Everything looked different. Even my bike seemed different, not in a way that was foreign, though. Actually, the bicycle seemed more personal, like a family member. I unlocked her and kissed her handlebars while rubbing her seat. “Ready to go, babe?” I hopped on the bike, felt the thrill, and pedaled away.
Freedom! The air was light and crisp, filling my nostrils with freshness. I realized I hadn’t had a cigarette in two days. I didn’t think about it once. Weird. Good weird. I still didn’t want one. I smiled, looked up at the thin clouds, appreciating the bright but cloudy sky. The thin clouds made the morning easygoing. My movements and those all around me had a liquidity, even on busier streets like Overtoom. I cut through Vondelpark, got off my bike, and walked it along a path before sitting on a bench. Walkers passed as well as joggers and cyclists, all moving slowly with measured paces, as if they didn’t want to upset the quiet or make an impression on the earth.
A flash of Ellie crossed my mind. I didn’t miss her; she was still with me, watching through my eyes. Everyone I cared about lived within me. Not in spirit, but as beings of memory and emotion, not detached from who they were independent of me, but as I perceived them even when I was with them. I wasn’t sure if this was true, but I didn't care if it was or not. I accepted the feelings and ideas as they were then got back on my bike to ride home.
When I arrived, I grabbed Susan’s mail. I went inside the apartment, took off my backpack and coat, and checked the plants to see if they needed watering. Most looked okay, but I watered a couple that seemed to be overly dry. I hopped in the shower, got dressed, and tried to think. I couldn’t, but I realized why: I hadn’t eaten breakfast. It was near noon so I ate a sandwich and drank some water. After eating I felt a little clearer. I hadn’t eaten much, really, but enough to give me fuel to check out my next indexing assignment. I downloaded the PDFs, read through a couple chapters, realized the work was going to be straight forward, and shut down my laptop. Work wasn't speaking to me. I wanted to see Daniel.
Years had passed since I last pedaled over the Magere Brug down Nieuwe Kerkstraat and Plantage Kerklaan to Bloem. I locked my bike on the crowded rack outside and walked toward the door. I wasn’t sure if it was the environment or what, but I had an urge to smoke. I sighed, pulled out a cig, and lit up. I took two drags and put it out. Disgusting. I popped a mint in my mouth and walked inside. I didn’t see Daniel and at first it looked like the place was empty—it was nearly mid-afternoon so that wasn’t a surprise, but as I walked through the entryway and past the spiral staircase to the main area of the café, I noticed that my favorite table was occupied by two women.
I walked past and sat at the table next to theirs. I was angled toward the bar and the women sitting at my damn table. Daniel was still nowhere to be found so I listened to the women speak to one another in Dutch. One woman looked somewhat Spanish and the other I couldn’t place. My first thought was that she was from Iceland. She looked like she may have been a cousin of Bjork: Half pixie, half human. She had jet black hair, shorter, and she wore all black including stylish boots. Her skin was soft and supple, white as snow. She looked toward me. Her eyes were huge, rounded as much as oval, and her eyelashes were lush, shimmering blackness, long and feathery. They were real, I was sure of it. The color of her eyes were rich dark brown chocolate, but soft. They seemed otherworldly and yet earthy. Without realizing, I was flipping through my memory banks trying to find a woman with a comparative presence, but I drew a blank. Bjork was the closest, but there was still a world between them. Her looks were unique as far as I could tell. I also noticed she was busty; her black sweater wasn’t tight, but that didn’t hide the fact. She wasn’t disproportionate, though. If I was sculpting or sketching her I wouldn’t have changed a thing.
I didn’t get as good a view of her Spanish-looking friend. I was too enthralled by the otherworldly Icelandic half pixie to pay much attention to anyone or anything else. Daniel saved me from gawking by introducing me. The Spanish-looking woman was named Sophia and the Icelander went by the name Piper. They motioned for me to sit with them and I did, almost falling on the floor as I did so. This caused some giggles and I looked up at Piper and her smile just about sent me all the way to the floor. This made her laugh harder. I smiled, sheepishly. I could feel myself blushing and I covered by saying, “I like to make an impression when I meet Daniel’s friends.” Sophia looked up at Daniel and winked. I saw Daniel blush a little and thought, “Oh, more than friends. Damn, he has it going, doesn’t he?”
Piper was still smiling. Those dimples! I was having trouble thinking and I had to make myself look away. Daniel brought them glasses of wine and asked me if I wanted anything. I thought, yeah, I want Piper! Instead I said, “I’ll have what they’re having.” Sophia said it was a Spanish wine and I found out as we talked that she was half Spanish and half Dutch. I asked Piper if she was Dutch—knowing she couldn’t be—and she said, no, she was from Canada. She was “native” from a very small tribe very far north but had been adopted by Canadian parents who owned a cookie company. Her mother had started it based on a recipe of her own. I learned later from Daniel that it was a very successful international business.
Piper was studying genetics as a graduate student at the University of Amsterdam. She and Daniel used to work together. I couldn’t place her age but I figured early-to-mid twenties. Sophia I couldn’t place at all; if I had to guess, mid-to-late twenties. She was a chef working at a swank café on Nes. I loved that lane, a kick-ass little sliver of land in the center. I had gotten lost in that area many times because I often had to double back after turning to the east while looking for a smart shop or a café. Inevitably, I would ride up to a canal without a bridge, forcing me to snake around to find a way to cross into the Oude Zijde. The only street name I knew in that area was Nes. It was also the site of my falling out with Sterre; remembering that incident reminded me that she had sent me an email I hadn't read. I quickly forgot about her, though, while gazing at Piper.
Daniel sat down with us. We were the only customers in the café, each of us a friend of Daniel’s, though I could tell there was a chemistry between Daniel and Sophia that suggested much more. As if to confirm my suspicions, Daniel put his arm around her and she nuzzled into his body. I had no idea when this relationship started but it looked like it was in the honeymoon stage. Sophia was affectionate, extroverted, and gregarious. Sexiness dripped from her. She and Daniel talked food and wine and told stories of bad experiences with customers in their respective cafés. Piper and I listened, smiling or laughing at times, but we were clearly out of the loop. Daniel and Sophia slowly got lost into one another. Piper seemed bored and I felt uncomfortable.
I turned to Piper to talk with her. The problem was that whenever I looked at her I got tongue-tied. I had been with Ellie just hours ago, but Piper nearly obliterated memories of intimacy with her. I couldn’t explain why, not specifically. Fuck, how was it that I continued to stumble into the presence of women who floored me, each new meeting somehow more puzzling and intoxicating than the last? Amsterdam wasn’t really Amsterdam; it was Elysium.
I kept trying to think of something to say, but nothing appropriate formed. The questions and statements that went through my mind were better left unsaid: “What’s it like to be the spiritual sister of Bjork?”; “Do you ever need to say anything or do you make your way through the world by exuding who you are?”; “I feel wholly inadequate to be in your presence; the only explanation for this blessing is that I’ve done extraordinary things in past lives and being here with you is my reward”; “Would it be okay to hold your hand or will I die from euphoria instantly?”; “How many men and women have died blissfully while looking into your eyes?”
Piper spoke without opening her mouth. When she blinked I felt a flutter of breeze on my skin. Those lashes! If she batted her eyes at me I would fall off my seat again and then just lie there happily listening to the music of her laughter. Piper saved me from myself by asking about my life. I fumbled for a bit before telling her I was living in Amsterdam for a few months, that I worked from home for American publishers, and that I loved Amsterdam. Piper smiled and said, “I know, I love the city, too. I would love to open a bar, just drink and serve drinks to my friends all day.” From geneticist to barkeep. Endearing.
She mentioned she recently had been hired by Gollem II in De Pijp. I was familiar with Gollem on the Nieuwe Zijde, but I didn’t realize there was another bar in De Pijp. She said she was nervous. “I know my beer, but …” She trailed off and I recalled the giant chalkboards of beer names at Gollem. I could understand being nervous about working in such a place. It would take time even to memorize all those names as well as functionally working the bar. She had mentioned working with Daniel so she knew what she was doing. To land a gig at Gollem II she would have to know something. The fact that she was studying genetics spoke to her intelligence.
There was something else about Piper that struck me: Her voice. She had an accent and a certain way of speaking that I had never heard. It wasn’t a Dutch accent and while she may have been from Canada it wasn’t that, either. It was, like her looks, something I had never before encountered. She became all the more alluring because of it. Was there anything about her that wasn’t alluring? The combination of everything, her background, her intelligence, her education, her unique physical beauty, her voice, and her undeniably otherworldly presence filled me with awe. Awe, by its nature and definition, is not something anyone can get used to feeling. I felt awe so often in the city that I thought eventually feelings of awe would eventually dissipate, but that didn’t happen; it wasn’t possible in Amsterdam, not the way I was living within it, not with the people I was meeting and getting to know.
I started recognizing what it was about Piper. She gave off a spiritual scent that made me drunk with joy. I was tongue-tied from the combination of happiness and awe. I was embarrassed by it, but it was a pleasing humiliation. My only concern was whether she would run away from me because I was comparatively uninteresting. It would have been heartbreaking if she left for any reason, though. I thought of offering to pay her to be in her presence for a few number of hours each day. How much would she charge for me to sit quietly nearby while she studied?
Before I could ask, Sophia walked to the WC and Daniel asked us to join him for a smoke. Piper declined, but I went out with him. I needed a breather, to collect myself before I started trembling and drooling. Once outside, I asked Daniel about Sophia as much as anything to shift my attention away from thinking about Piper. He said they had been seeing each other for about a week. He looked like he was in love and I told him so. He blushed just a bit and shrugged. “Maybe. It’s new.” I said, “She’s a firecracker, man. Sexy, full of life.” Daniel took a drag from his smoke, his eyes lively. She was infectious; he was under her spell. Then again, she was under his, too. A good match, but it was surprising to see Daniel feeling that way about someone. Even with Anabel he hadn’t come across like this, but she was preparing to leave for six months at that time so I didn't know how he had felt about Anabel earlier in their relationship, whatever their relationship was or might have been. I reminded myself that I had only known Daniel for a few months. He was too complex and mysterious to read in such a short time. Maybe ever.
I couldn’t hold back any longer so I asked Daniel about Piper. “Is she seeing anyone?” He said, “Well, she was seeing the owner at O’Reilly’s, but I don't know how serious that is now. I told you about them, right?” I remembered. He had said she could do better. Now that I had met her I understood completely; in fact, I was stunned that Piper was the woman he had mentioned that night. What the hell was she doing with him? Saying she could do better was the understatement of the year. Then I remembered Daniel often spoke without exaggeration, that understatement was par for the course, that what I perceived as understatements he saw as clear evidence without the need to elaborate. Such a fucking interesting guy. He seemed so used to profundity that what seemed extraordinary to me was ordinary for him.
I asked Daniel if he and Piper had ever gone out. He said no. “We messed around a few times, but nothing serious.” I couldn’t hold back. “She’s fucking amazing.” Daniel nodded. “She’s special. She deserves better.” I thought to myself, “I’m better. Unfortunately, she deserves better than me, too.” Still, I couldn’t stop thinking about her. Damnit.
We went back inside and Daniel went to the bar to do … something. Looked like he was organizing receipts. I sat down with Piper as Sophia came out of the restroom and asked where Daniel was. I nodded and she said, “Oh. Well, I’m going to go out for a smoke if you want to join me.” I told her I just had one and Piper declined. I was happy about that and yet I still had no idea what to say to her. I needed to relax and take her down off the pedestal. Fucking emotions. There was an uncomfortable silence for about fifteen seconds. Piper broke the ice. “How do you know Daniel?” I told her the story about the day I met Daniel, Anabel, and Nina in the fall, even about the melancholy I felt, the loneliness, and how those three angels were at exactly the right place at the perfect time for me. The story brought a smile to her face. She was obviously moved—or at least more engaged.
When I finished speaking, she leaned closer and quietly said, with seriousness and affection, “Daniel is special. He’s,” she looked over at him as he remained lost in his work, “I don’t know how to say it.” She looked back at me and I looked at her with a depth I was surprised to find, perhaps because I was thinking about the impact Daniel had had on my life, and said, “He’s unlike anyone I’ve ever met.” Then I looked her in the eye and said, “He’s like a celestial body pulling other special people into orbit around him. You’re one of them. It’s obvious.” Piper leaned back in her chair. She looked slightly uncomfortable, but she smiled softly. I calmed a little and managed a relaxed smile. I raised my glass and said, “To good friends.” She raised her glass and said, “Yes, to good friends.”
Sophia came back inside just as Daniel was finishing up behind the bar. They met at the end of the bar and she pulled his head down to give him a lingering kiss. Sophia was the definition of passion. I understood why Daniel felt the way he did. Piper looked slightly uncomfortable still and I wondered if she didn’t carry a flame for Daniel. She said “Daniel is special” with such power it practically radiated from her. Yet, the comment did not seem romantic or sexual, more a recognition of his being, made from a quality or composition of qualities that defied description. “Special” was the only word that seemed to fit and I agreed completely. The thing was, when I said his friends were amazing as well, I meant that without romance as well. Nina, Anabel, Piper, Suzette, Alexander, Andy, Tom, and the list went on and on, yet I had met but a fraction of the people the man likely knew.
Each person in his orbit was unique. I felt privileged to be among them. I was fortunate to have the type of job that allowed me to spend so much time with Daniel and the others I was meeting either through him or on my own. I was also grateful he worked in a place so easily accessible to me every day of the week. He usually took one day a week off, either Sunday or Monday, but otherwise, if Bloem was open, Daniel was usually there. He had a definite affinity for his work and he had a passion to make Bloem into a place that reflected his vision.
As the afternoon grew late, Piper and Sophia left. I had been full of love from the morning with El and by the time they left I was overflowing. Isa had arrived to work and other customers were arriving for after-work dinners and drinks. I went out to share a cigarette with Daniel before it got too busy. I told him I was going to get going, too. I tried to say something about Piper, that there was something about her, but I couldn’t finish. He could tell, though. He gave me a look. “Piper, huh?” He looked up, slightly lost in thought, and then he smiled, a smile to himself, as if amused. I went over to my bike and as I was unlocking it Daniel finished his cigarette. He walked to the side door, but before he grabbed the door handle he turned to me. He looked as if he was going to say something. Instead, he nodded and smiled before saying, “Piper, huh?” He opened the door and walked back into Bloem, chuckling to himself.
