After the passing of a week

the swaying black carriage came to

collect Uncle Emiel and ferry him 

further over the polder 

to visit kin 

and shipboard friends 

now docked on dry land 

Jacob watched, heartbroken

as the sea chest was brought down

the staircase and set to wait

                          in the bright sunshine

Uncle Emiel 

bundled into his somber traveling coat

spoke quietly, intently to Mother

as she clutched her brown, 

woolen shawl around herself

           nodding but

look away from him

           nodding

but not speaking 

Jacob sulked in the quiet sitting room,

spinning his top and wishing for Uncle to stay

spinning, spinning his wishes 

and disappointment into the

shadows and chinks

in the bricks of the hearth

and warp and weft of the flowers on

the embroidered 

fire panels 

                          The door creaked open and Emiel slipped into the room

                          black tricorn already upon his head

                          Come here, boy 

Jacob left off spinning

and drifted to the chair Emiel

placed himself upon 

to bring his man's height

down to Jacob's own level

I want to tell you something, before I leave. Some men. . . some men are not the men they would wish themselves to be. Some men believe themselves to be a king, and yet cannot...cannot find their own way to the castle doors. Do you understand me? We may crown ourselves in our own minds, but the world does not . . .always agree. 

Emiel paused, 

searched for words

as if searching his pockets 

for a coin

Care for your mother, Jacob. She's the only sister I have. 

Yes, Uncle. 

Emiel smiled

but the smile was tight and drawn

like someone barely recovered from a sickness

                    and suddenly, without knowing why

                   Jacob whispered: Will the Leviathan pull us down, Uncle? Will we all be drowned?

Emiel's eyes widened and a look of

approval appeared

               I hope...

              Emiel! The carriage!

Mother swept the door open  -- Emiel!

             I'm coming, Margreet, one moment. 

            Jacob...

            One moment.

Mother turned in the doorway, disappearing 

and as she did

Jacob wrapped all of his courage around his wooden top 

and whispered so that only his uncle could hear:

I want to be a sailor, just like you Uncle. I want to smell of the sea and fight off the Leviathan. 

You look like me, and I want to be like you. 

We are both strange boys. 

and just like with the singing

and just like with the whistling

and just like with the setting of the compass points

the ropes between uncle and nephew 

were thrown, grabbed and 

made fast

Emiel nodded,

then rose

and took his leave

             leaving Jacob alone

             in a house, listing and 

             adrift upon the waves

the smell of saltwater

already beginning to 

seep 

from Jacob's skin