“Well, you might not like talking, but you still manage to get your thoughts across, don’t you! Look, I have to go to the john myself. Let’s go together, all right? The route is too confusing for you to find it by yourself from here anyway.”

And the two of them walk on together, until, halfway there, alarm bells go off inside Willem’s brain.

THE URINAL. Suddenly, as they hurry through room upon fruit-filled room, Willem’s entire future seems to be pending between his legs. In some ways, of course, it is a familiar feeling. After all, Willem is twelve years old, and at this point more and more of his thoughts seem to have their origins there. But this time there is real danger in it. In America, Bill will think to himself years later, people all look different, until you take off their clothes and discover that they are really all the same. In Europe, people all look the same until you take off their clothes and discover that they are different, irreparably different, differences scarred into their flesh. He can’t very well run away now, though. Besides, he has to go.

Just before they reach the men’s room, a woman in her early twenties struts through the corridor, her skirt hugging her hips and swishing around her calves as she swings each leg in front of the other. Willem notices. The guard nudges Willem, muttering down at him. “A knockout, isn’t she.”

Willem nods and quickly looks to the floor. The last thing he needs at this point is to start fantasizing about some girl. The guard leads him into the men’s room and the door swings shut behind them. No one else is there.

“You got a girlfriend yet?” the guard asks with a smile, his voice bubbling like a city fountain.

Willem feels his face turning red. He pictures Jopie and shakes his head. No.

The guard steps up to one of the urinals, unbuttons his pants, and starts babbling.

“It’s rough at your age. It gets better, you’ll see. I remember when I was about your age—well, a few years older really, when I was more of a man, if you know what I mean—and I fell so horribly in love with this girl. Her name was Lies, and wow, was she a knockout. Big on top, big on the bottom, slim in the middle, unbelievable. My sole purpose in life was to see her naked. I had a friend who lived across the street from her, and he had a little spyglass. I used to go over to his house with a bunch of other guys and we’d try to see whether she was home, just waiting for her to show up in the window. And she’d show up all right. The thing is, she knew we were there. She’d lean over by the window and start slowly opening her shirt, like she was really going to take her clothes off right in front of us, but then, right when she got to about the third button, she’d pull the shades. Right then! Just to drive us nuts! Peter got her in the end, but boy, I would have killed for her.”