Arnon Grunberg - Tirza

Ship's steward considers that he has had a little something with Tirza, but he is not sure. When it comes to love, is it a year and a half ago have been somewhat abrasive. From its fifteenth they already knew that they After her graduation a year to Africa wanted, but when the boys went, changed weekly of opinion. They 'I just good friends,' she said, 'and some of those friends are casual boys, but that does not mean anything. It meant but something.' And then they smiled as if they were a large joke found and ship's steward laughed.

Three years ago, a few weeks after the wife was gone to the houseboat, had at supper Tirza asked: 'Papa, when will I lose your virginity?'

Ship's steward was busy in his desert to surrounded, Panna Cotta from the caterer a few streets away. He heard her question did surrounded with. When he had looked at his watch. 'Everyone is deflowered,' he said. 'Early or late on the everyone, Tirza.'

'For me in the class are nearly all of them deflowered. When will I lose your virginity in God's name? You know everything?'

'Not everything. Little even, really.' He licked his spoon and laid him down. The panna cotta tasted him not more.

'but you will still have everything an opinion? About the oddest things you have a view. What is your opinion about the fact that I have not yet deflowered am? That everyone in my class deflowered, only the nerds and suckers, the pimple heads not, but also everyone but me. What have you got to say?'

Ibi was not there. Ibi was at that time already disappearing, busy trying to resolve to dissociate themselves from the world from which they had come about.

Ship's steward looked at its support framework. He was alone with his youngest daughter he would only remain with her.

'things happen with a reason, and if they do not happen that also has a reason. You have not, you will lose your virginity because you do not have the correct.'

She sighed, Tirza, they said: 'Pffff.' And when once again: 'Pfffff.' There was a half panna cotta on its board, they cut him with her spoon in three pieces. 'Dat is such a crap, PAP,' she said. 'that is so passé. It is not that you lose your virginity by appropriate. The point is that it happens. That is the most important. That is the only thing that counts. I want you to help me. I would like that you say who must go to me came to.'

Ship's steward hustle and bustle his hands against his cheeks as if he suddenly had received serious toothache.

He looked at Tirza, gifted youngest daughter not by just anyone should be deflowered. Previously she had many swimming. She had participated in competitions. Three times per week he brought her after his work on the bike to the Zuiderbad. He was nearly as fanatical as they are. No, he was fanatical. His daughters had to do what he had not done so, what he had failed to do what he by circumstances had failed to do: excel. Because one thing they could not complain ship's steward they could not say that he had not realized that on this world only place was for excellence. The rest was finished, or simply pushed aside, bored in a corner. And even the performances of ontkwamen not always that fate.

To Tirza became ill. When was the last with the swimming.

'I give the names of all suitable boys, and at a given moment you say: "Stop" Okay, we will do the same? I can do not have to choose. I know it is simply not.'

They had stood up from its seat, she was now behind him, she had her arms around him skipped.

And he was there, gazing to his panna cotta, listening to her voice, his hands against his cheeks pressed, and also that the wife is possessed he now perhaps would call, at this very moment to tell where they had been all those weeks.

'You must help me,' said Tirza. 'Fathers are to help their daughters, are nevertheless? fathers Well, help me than, PAP.'

'Tirza,' he said, 'do not as strange. Please do not as strange. Hold on to those nonsense. You can eat panna cotta.'

They are more solid against are hustle and bustle seat.

'I'm going to the names list the boys, with a short description. Are you ready? David, brown, smooth hair, about a meter seventy four.'

'No,' shouted ship's steward. 'No, Tirza. Sit down. Keep this. Sit back.' He did with his hand on table.

They showed him, went back to its own seat.

This was also, and portrait took them a bite of her panna cotta.

'Not sad,' she said. 'Not sad, dad. I would like just so horrible like to lose your virginity. I am not ugly? Why does it not?'

Also he strangled a bite of yet the dessert. They sat down. He rejected his hands off, even though there is nothing to kleefde, and he hustle and bustle them against his cheeks.

'You are very nice, Tirza,' he said. 'terribly nice, this has nothing to do with it. But the boys are shy, only later they are less shy, and even then not always. You must be the guys at their convenience.'

"How?'

He made his hands against his eyes, he remembered how he her to the clinic in Germany had driven, and for the first time of his life he began to pray. Not with words, a singing was, a racket. He were noisy internally as a large insect.

'But how?' she asked again. 'How do i boys on their convenience? They are doing so foolish.'

He made his hands firmer against his eyes. The Racket loved. 'You must not forget,' he said soft, 'dat a little afraid of you. They are for all fears, but the allerbangst are they for you. Therefore you must be the boy who you have chosen to bring with you to a place where no one can see you, a secret place it must be. And you have to have him gently touch. First he will act as a deterrent. But you must not scare. Whatever happens, you should never be alarmed. You need to turn it simply touch. And then you say: "I am Tirza and I love you."'

As far as possible hustle and bustle he even more firmly against his eyes and he hoped but that his hands would absorb the tears, that they do not over his fingers, seep into the vision of the world would be extracted by the hands with which he is so keen on in the garden worked.

'And then if I said that?'

'Dan…' He swallowed. 'Dan — he has a t-shirt or a shirt or a jacket? The boy who you have selected.'

'a shirt.'

'Dan,' said ship's steward, 'dan you should slowly open his shirt, first the upper buttons, and than the lower. He will defend, maybe he will even want to walk, but you have to deal with him in his arm and say: "not drain completely, because I am Tirza and I love you."'

'And then? Tell.'

Ship's steward could almost not more. Sank his head still further away. His eyes were made to red, swollen, hands are wet and old.

'Dan…' he took a deep breath. And again. Such as when he walked up the stairs in search of Ibi which was not returned by the lessee. The same sensation of asphyxia, of suffocation. 'Dan you must add it to your pressing firmly and not forget how afraid he is that he more afraid for you than for the dead, because you are a woman, Tirza. And then you feel him, you must feel him how he is and how he is, you need him, you need him smell kissing, you must attach against him, you have to hold him as if he would like to emerge, and that he would also, but you must continue to hold him. Because he also wants to be held, he wants to escape and he wants to be held, but you have to be stronger, that is the only solution. And then you say: "Who are you? I am Tirza and I love you, but who are you?"'

At that moment a cry Hofmeesters escaped on foot, a slogan as a fog horn. Short but hard, one that can be heard for miles.

Tirza had stood up. Ship's steward, appalled by his own stunt, was also.

'What is there, papa?' she asked. 'What is there?'

Afraid if he was that they would like to see the tears, he pressed up against her. He loved her and he kissed her, on her hair, its cheeks, its nose, its lips, her ears. 'Nothing, Tirza,' he said, 'nothing is there. I had a dream, I had a bad idea. There is nothing. Everything will be fine. Everything is good.'