Sloingen's walkers
The alarm clock read five past six when the annoying sound rang for the second time. An unshaven Thijs rose to his feet. Sleepily He put on his glasses and dressed himself. Before he left his house, he quickly laayed a slice of cheese on a dry cracker and put it in his mouth. He ate it while driving his old Volvo and then tried to fasten a button on his coat with one hand. He slowed down at an older man in a blue jacket with the municipality's logo on it. The man got in while he sighed deeply and said something that was supposed to sound like 'good morning'.
'Good morning Herman!', Thijs said, 'Did you sleep well?' 'We have to fill that shit with concrete', Herman said. Herman didn't like it when it was his turn. They drove on in silence. Thijs took them to the house of the Peters couple.
The Peters had only just moved to Sloingen. They had bought the house for way too much money. They came from the city and were rich. He was rich, she was especially attractive. For the move they hired a moving truck and some big guys. None of the supervisors saw them touch a box themselves. When he arrived at the house Thijs knocked on the door. It was Mr. Peters who opened the door and Thijs hid his disappointment behind a smile.
'Good morning!', Thijs said kindly.
“Good morning gentlemen!” Mr. Peters responded cheerfully.
'And? Are you ready?' Thijs asked.
'Give me a minute', Mr. Peters said, putting on a warm coat. When he stooped to pick up some shoes, he stopped.
'What am I supposed to wear?' he said, then added with a raised eyebrow, 'Since I don't know where we're going…'
'The boots', Herman commanded from behind a hesitant Thijs.
Mr. Peters put on spotless green rubber boots. Thijs even smelled the rubber. He imagined Mr. Peters walking past the boots in a local hardware store and purchasing them impulsively. Because he now lived in the country and 'then you have rubber boots'. The three gentlemen walked to the old Volvo. Thijs got behind the wheel again and Mr. Peters took a seat in the back.
'And have you finished unpacking and stuff yet?” Thijs said as he drove away from the house.
'We've come a long way! But we are still waiting to furnish the living kitchen. You first have to get a feel for such a space,' answered Mr Peters.
‘Ah ok!', said Thijs, thinking of his kitchen where only one person could stand.
'It does feel a bit strange. Two men who pick me up early in the morning to show me something. Karlijn also thought it was strange.'
Herman looked at Thijs, who was clearly somewhere else with his thoughts.
'Don't worry', Thijs said quickly, 'you will see for yourself'. "Mysterious... Now you're making me curious!', Mr. Peters said. But disappointed he flopped back into the backseat and glanced out the window. Thijs drove into the polder for a few minutes until he parked the car next to a muddy country road.
'Are we there?', Mr. Peters said, and looking around.
'Almost, are you coming?', Thijs replied as he unfastened his seatbelt. Herman already got out and marched onto the dirt road, Thijs and Mr. Peters followed him. A hundred yards in front of him loomed a low wooden fence. Behind the fence was a meadow that was completely covered with a thick fog.
'Is that it?', Mr. Peters asked when they arrived at the gate. Herman was already leaning casually on the fence and looking at the fog.
'This is it!', Thijs replied.
'Okay…', Mr. Peters said in surprise. He quickly added:
'well it beautiful with the first light of the sun!'
'This fog hangs here every night . It vanishes when the sun rises', Thijs explained as he leaned on the fence.
'I can understand that you like this,' said Mr. Peters and continued after a few seconds: 'And, are you taking everyone here?'
'Everybody. But take a good look at the fog if you like,' said Thijs and he beconed for Mr. Peters to come closer.
Mr. Peters sniffed and stepped between the men. Yet he soon broke the silence:
'I'm glad that Karlijn didn't come along. He really didn't want to get out of bed for this.'
Thijs looked at Mr. Peters painfully.
'I don't want to sound ungrateful, but I don't really need this', he said.
'There," said Herman suddenly. He pointed and looked focused into the fog.
Deep in the fog, something moved.
‘Oh yes, and there is another one behind that,’ said Thijs.
Mr. Peters leaned over the fence to see what the men were talking about.
Figures walked with bowed heads between the wisps of mist. Worn leather shoes and bare feet with pale skin shuffled through the wet grass under torn clothes. Mr Peters sighed.
'Are they actors or something? I-I still have a lot to do around the house. At least you should have told them what you were up to!'
'We are obliged by the municipality to show it to you', said Thijs. 'It's a somewhat quiet morning, but usually there are more.'
'Do you expect me to believe this?' Mr. Peters said bitterly.
Thijs made a calming gesture with his hand, but Mr. Peters snapped:
'Take me back home NOW, I will tell the municipality…'
Close to the gate a woman walked with thin and wet hair over pale skin covered with green and brown spots. As if she had been in the water for years. Her face was sunken and her rotten teeth showed in a lipless mouth. She was wearing a white baggy dress that was dirty and soaked. With bony arms she held her body as if to keep up with what little warmth she had left. As she passed the gate she turned her head and looked at the three men with glassy gray eyes. Mr. Peters shrank from the gate. The woman looked ahead and shuffled past the men. Thijs turned around and could feel nothing but pity for the terrified look on Mr. Peters' face.
'You're safe here', he said soothingly, 'They can't walk outside the fog'.
A saddled horse with no rider walked by, ribs showing through the holes in her rotten flesh. Mr. Peters put a hand over his mouth.
'However often you see them, they remain repulsive', Thijs said and continued: 'We call them the restless dead, or the walkers. They are cursed to walk forever here through the Tilrau polder, but never arrive. As you saw, they see us, but if you leave them alone, nothing will happen'. Thijs turned around again. Hidden in the fog, some figures shuffled. After a while he started again:
The story goes that when the Spaniards fled five hundred years ago they plundered everything they came across. On their way they passed the shire of a Baroness. She offered them food and clothing so that they would not be plundered….” 'What if it's foggy all over Sloingen?', Mr. Peters suddenly asked. He was still standing a few feet from the fence. Thijs did not dare to look at Mr. Peters while he answered: 'They sometimes walk all the way through the village.' 'You would do best to stay indoors', Herman replied. 'One thing is certain. I'm moving.', muttered Mr. Peters 'I understand that, but it doesn't have to be necessary', said Thijs 'You are free to go. But then we are legally obliged to keep an eye on you,' added Herman and turned to Mr. Peters, 'That goes as far as putting a supervisor in the house.' 'Excuse me?!' 'That goes as far as placing a supervisor in the house. Don't get us wrong. We save. We like to keep the peace here. If everyone just follows the rule, things will go well.' 'Exactly!', Thijs exclaimed, 'And how often is it foggy! If it's foggy, it's usually at night anyway.'
Mister Peters did not look at Thijs.
'Any more surprises?', he snapped at Herman. 'Do you want children?', Herman asked. Peters narrowed his eyes.
'It is of course forbidden to enter the field at night. Teach them to stay away from here. The primary school will help with that.' 'But we never have incidents. Again, if you leave them alone, they will leave you alone.' 'I will. Will you bring me back now?' 'I think so! Herman?' Herman nodded. The three of them headed back to the car as a guard in rusted armor watched them with glassy eyes from the fog.
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