“What’s wrong, kid? Ya look terrible.”
“Nothin’, Sarge, it’s just…”
Sergeant Grimes had seen that exact look on the faces of hundreds of young soldiers. “Got a ‘Dear John’ letter, eh?”
“Yeah, and my name’s Eddie,” he said, trying to laugh.
“Ya gotta forget her, kid. That’s what I do.”
Eddie laughed for real this time. “Really? You got a Dear John letter?”
“Dozens of times, kid! Look, it ain’t easy bein’ away from home fightin’ a war, but at least we’re stationed near Amsterdam instead of the Korean front lines, right?”
Eddie nodded.
“Life ain’t a destination, kid; it’s a journey. And that’s where the adventures lie.”
Eddie’s face brightened. “That’s some sage wisdom, Sarge.”
“So is this; ya gotta forget her.”
Eddied sighed, “I don’t know how.”
“Easy. You get laid!” Sarge said, slapping Eddie’s back.
Eddie’s face flushed, betraying his virginity.
“Oh. I see. You’re a virgin, so what? The best way to get over a girl is to get with a new girl. It’s better if she’s pretty, but it’s not a deal-breaker. You don’t want to die a virgin, do you?”
“I-I hadn’t thought about it, but no, I guess not.”
Sarge beamed. “Then tonight’s the night, young man. I’m giving you 24-hour leave. Go to the Roost on Canal Street. Find a pretty girl and…” he pulled a crisp $20 bill from his wallet and stashed it into Eddie’s shirt pocket.
“She’ll do anything you want for this.”
Eddie’s eyes widened.
“But make sure of two things. First, don’t pay before she delivers, got it?”
“Got it. And the second thing?”
“Listen, this is Amsterdam, so verify the woman ain’t a man. Don’t ask me how I know.”
An involuntary shiver raced down Eddie’s spine.
“Check out a jeep and go to town. I’d come with you, but this is your adventure. Be careful. Anything can happen in Amsterdam.”
The jeep bounded down the dirt road to the pavement, jostling Eddie the entire trip. An hour later, darkness gave way to the bright city lights.
He cruised down the major boulevard and passed a large neon rooster rendered in red and yellow lights flashing high above the large timbered doorway.
This must be the place.
Structured in the 1400s from long tree trunks fitted together, it used no concrete, brick, or masonry, making the modern construction of the surrounding buildings look lazy.
Eddie stepped inside, and the earthy scent of pine and countless drinks spilled over the centuries assailed his nostrils as his eyes adjusted to the dim light. Countless souls had trod this planked floor, each one leaving something of themselves behind.
Vintage pictures covered the walls, dating back to the early days of photography through both World Wars. Many showed soldiers like himself with pretty girls on their arms. One cute couple from World War One caught his attention.
Did she wait for him? Or send a Dear John letter?
Two Canadian soldiers, similar in age, followed him inside and remarked, “This establishment is unfamiliar territory for us, soldier-boy. Any tips?”
“It’s my first time too, gentlemen. We’ll figure it out.”
Burt and Charles introduced themselves, and the trio found a table overlooking the canal. A waiter brought pretzels and three beer steins.
“Keep it coming, kind sir.” Burt peeled bills off a large roll and handed them to the man. “Tonight’s on me, boys!”
“Burt, don’t flash your cash like that,” Eddie warned.
“Ah, don’t worry about it. What brings you here, eh?” Burt asked.
“I got a ‘Dear John’ letter, and I’m under orders to, ah, find another girl.”
“We got letters too!” the soldiers laughed. “Let’s see what’s still available, boys,” Charles said.
Burt scanned the bar. “All the pretty ones are spoken for. Hey, what about that girl over there?”
Charles chuckled. “No, but she sure has a nice tooth.”
“Come on, Charles,” Eddie said. “She can’t help it.”
Charles’s lips twisted as if he had eaten a lemon. “Hey, if I’m paying for her company, then she must have most of her teeth.”
The trio studied the remaining women in the bar with fading optimism. After rejecting the last one, a statuesque woman appeared and strolled across the floor as if on a fashion show catwalk, drawing everyone’s attention.
“Wow… whattaya think of her, eh?” Burt asked.
Eddie sipped his beer. “I’ll pass.”
Burt and Charles cocked their heads. “Why?”
“That ‘gal’ has an Adam’s apple.”
The three exchanged glances. “Boys, we need to find another bar, eh?” Burt said.
Their waiter pointed a barrel-chested man with a broom-like mustache toward their table. He approached with outstretched arms and a broad smile. “Gentlemen, how are you this evening?” the man asked in a heavy Dutch accent.
“We’re fine,” Charles said, “but all the pretty girls are taken.”
The big man smiled. “I can solve your problem. My brother’s bar has plenty of beautiful women, and it’s just around the corner.”
“Boys, our luck is changing,” Burt said.
“Good! Follow me,” the stranger said, heading toward the door. “Pretty ladies are waiting for you!”
The fresh-faced young men paraded behind the man, but Eddie stopped short.
“Eddie,” a silky female voice whispered in his ear.
He turned, but nobody was there. At the far corner table sat a stunning young woman about Eddie’s age, sniffling and dabbing her nose with an ivory-colored handkerchief.
How did I miss her?
His orders to ‘get laid’ evaporated from his brain as he stopped and marveled at the vision seated before him.
I’ve gotta meet this girl.
Eddie approached the corner table. “Excuse me, Miss.”
She quickly wiped her nose, then looked at Eddie. “Yes?”
“Did you call my name?”
The pretty girl scoffed. “I don’t know your name.”
“It’s Eddie.”
“Eddie?”
“See? You said it again, and it sounded like that,” he smiled.
The girl matched his smile with a genuine one of her own.
His heart aflutter, he asked, “May I join you?”
She nodded at the empty chair. “Please.”
“I’m Eddie.”
She laughed. “Yes, you told me, I’m Giselle.”
“Pleased to meet you,” he said, pulling out a chair. He pointed to a photograph on the wall behind her. “Odd.”
“What?”
“It’s a picture of an empty table.”
Giselle bit her lip. “Would you rather look at that, or me?”
Focus, boy! Don’t blow it!
“You. Definitely you.”
“Good answer,” she replied.
“That’s an interesting flower,” he said, nodding at her dress.
“Thank you, this is a spider orchid. There’s a local legend that goes with it.”
Intrigued, Eddie leaned in closer, touching her forearm. “Oh?”
She didn’t pull her arm back. “That if a girl wears it, her loved one will return from war,” she whispered.
Eddie’s heart went into freefall as he broke contact.
Of course she has a loved one!
A tear traced down her cheek. “I wore a spider orchid every day and… my brother still died.” She dabbed her nose. “I apologize. It’s just a superstition.”
“I’m sorry about your brother, but maybe… by wearing your spider orchid, you saved someone else?”
She tilted her head as the thought struck her. “I… I hadn’t considered that. I do hope that’s true.” She closed her eyes for a moment as a coy smile appeared. “You know, if I hadn’t been here, you would have left with your friends. Instead, you stayed here… with me.”
Eddie grinned. “I know I got the better deal.” This enchanting young woman made him forget all about the girl back home.
What was her name?
Giselle unpinned the flower and gently placed it in his hand. “This one belongs to you, Eddie.”
“Thank you.” He leaned in closer and inhaled her delicate perfume when two local policemen approached their table.
Eddie stood. “Can I help you?”
“Were you with two young Canadian soldiers tonight?”
“Burt and Charles? Yes.”
“Thugs robbed them and almost killed them. Somebody dragged them out of the canal just in time and told us they’d been here earlier. The bartender says you were with them. What can you tell us?”
Eddie described the barrel-chested stranger to the police. They exchanged glances. “Sounds like The Butcher is back,” one said. “Those boys are lucky to be alive. Why didn’t you join them?”
Eddie nodded to his left. “Because I had to meet this beautiful girl.”
The police stared at Eddie. “What girl?”
Eddie looked at the empty table. “She gave me this.” He held out the fresh flower as proof, only to have it wither in his hand to a crispy brown. “What’s happening?”
The older policeman asked, “Was her name… Giselle?”
“What? Yes!”
The policeman pointed to a photo. “Is that her?”
The photograph of an empty table now showed Giselle sitting there, wearing the spider orchid. “Yes! But how?”
“Nobody knows,” the policeman shrugged. “But it’s happened before.”
Eddie let out a long sigh. His shoulders slumped. He shook his head. Then he smiled as the faint scent of her unmistakable perfume dissipated.