This happened years ago in the north of Holland - the flattest, least scary land in the world. We were still teenagers. I remember it like yesterday.
My friends Anna, Veronica, Chris and I had been spending the day at the beach and were going back home after watching the sunset. We had been walking together over the sandy, broken-shell path between the dunes, but after we had to split up. There were three roads: Anna had her bike and turned left, to a misty polder path. Veronica and Chris turned right, into the forest.
The forests here are nothing exciting: you can see the end before you even enter them. They are sparse and open. I would have taken that route, but Veronica and Chris were newly dating and I wanted to give them some privacy, so I started biking straight ahead, into a street lit by yellow street lamps and lined with tidy cottages. As I was approaching the second cottage, however, I got a very bad feeling. Just as I was trying to shake it off, my tyre popped. I dismounted my bike and stepped right into a pile of broken glass. Annoying.
I would have repaired my bike right then and there - but something just felt off. The light was too orange, the cottage too close to the road. I felt suffocated. I decided to roll the bike home and maybe my dad would fix it in the morning. I did not feel good between these houses though and somehow really wanted to walk with my friends. Anna was long gone, but as Veronica and Chris were walking - and probably making out - I could still catch up with them. I turned my bike around and started jogging best I could. The glass was covering the entire bike lane, how did I not notice this? It was shimmering red in the deep orange light. I picked up my pace.
Soon I caught up with Veronica and Chris, whose handheld eye-gazing was rudely interrupted by my arrival. ‘What’s up?’ said Chris, hiding his annoyance well. I pointed at my bike, which now had two flat tyres, glass sticking out in several places. I said: ‘can I walk home with you? I got the creeps in the lane.’ Veronica sighed, but Chris managed to agree enthusiastically.
We didn’t have to go far, just around one last dune and I’d have to head into the town and find my home, lock my bike against the lantern in front, find my warm bed… but not yet. I was still the cockblock in the misty forest. I tried to find some light small talk, but Veronica quickly shut down every topic. When we finally got to my intersection, she enthusiastically turned to me, hugged me tight, and said: ‘it was SO nice to see you. We should do this again tomorrow! Maybe earlier in the day!’
She let go and I turned to hug Chris, as I heard Anna’s voice behind me: ‘Can I get a hug too?’
A chill ran down my spine. Why was the light so orange? Didn’t Anna get home a long time ago? I turned to see her wrap her arms around Veronica clumsily. I didn’t see her face, but it seemed she only had four fingers on her left hand. Weird, I never noticed that before. I hugged Chris and as I looked up, I looked straight into her face. It was a very soft, white face. Wispy hair, large grey eyes, kind of distant look. Not Anna at all. I don’t know why I thought that. ‘Can I get a hug too, please?’ she asked softly of Chris. I stepped away to let him hug the stranger. I now saw she had five fingers, one was just very small. That’s cool. I wasn’t going to be some kind of person that is creeped out by a handicap. That would not be cool.
She turned to me next. Really, why did I ever think this was Anna? This was the opposite of Anna. I wish it was her. I missed her thick legs, her matter-of-fact way of speaking, her dirty blonde, messy hair, her farmer’s grin. This girl was so wispy and hardly-here, it was hard to believe she was even Dutch. Well, I wasn’t going to be someone who is scared of foreigners. So when she turned to me with her tearful eyes, said: ‘can I get a hug please?’ and my entire body told me: NO! Don’t let her touch you! Get her away from me! - I smiled politely and opened my arms. I felt her hand on my shoulder first. She took her time laying down her fingers on it: one - two- three - four (the small one) - five - six… I wanted to pull away but I felt frozen as she pulled herself toward me, wrapped her arms around me and breathed in my ear: ‘thank you…’
I managed to cycle home on my ruined bike after that and made sure to never stay on the beach past dark again. You know what was strange? My father fixed my bike the next day - he didn’t find any glass. He said it just looked like someone let out the air and the tires were fine.