Lolita

Dad and mom are moving.

They cannot take me with them. However, they can take my brother.

I am twelve years old and I cannot miss school, then, once more, they are sending me in the German part of Switzerland, at my Aunt Maria’s who will « provide for ». Aunt Maria is our providence when it comes to finding someone to watch over me. She has a huge family with as many kids and that makes a very generous breeding-ground for me in exchange of a modest pension or some domestic help.

Therefore I definitively leave Belgium, on a bright morning of August. In a few days, the moving truck will take our things and bring it down in a warehouse, somewhere on the French Riviera, on the Mediterranean coast, where my parents decided to settle.

This is a life-long dream for them, even if they never shared it with us because we were « too young to understand ». And now that they just inherited from Aunt Lucy (another “providence” Aunt !) who was the owner of an apartment building very well positioned in Vevey (Switzerland) to be shared among all her heirs, they finally have the money to leave !

They still have no plans, nor any work in sight.

« We’ll see ! » says Papa, who is a great adventurer and who lived so many experiences. And Mom follows him, delighted.

I arrive in Basel and, as expected, I am welcomed by Uncle Walter and Aunt Maria. At the beginning, I will spend a few days with them, who I truly like (they are so sweet !), and then, they will lead me in my host family for a few months. Just the time that my parents get fully settled and able to greet me.

Basel is the city where I was born. Of course, I was a baby when I left, but it always feels good anyway each time I come back. My Uncle and Aunt live in a tiny apartment that overlooks a street in “asse” (strasse = street) I don’t manage to remember more. They never had children. Mom told me that it was because her brother is so selfish that he won’t bother with brats, but I have the impression that it is much more complicated than that. Sometimes, when she looks at me, I find that my Aunt has very sad eyes.

As usual, we start by visiting the Zoo, and then, the next day, we get ready to go on vacation « to a camping place. » The site is located very close to Germany, and it’s a peculiar place as it is one for “naturists”. I like it too. Everyone wanders naked all day and it gives me a sense of freedom that I do not feel otherwise. Most important, each time we go there, Aunt Maria prepares her famous potato salad which is the best in the entire world ! I could get damned for one of her salads !

The days come and go. We read in the sun, we play cards, we sleep in the caravan where a corner is especially booked for me. In the morning, I follow my Uncle up to shower that he takes ice cold. He laughs at me, calling me coward… but I can never take it as cold as he does, even if I try hard ! After that, either we prepare lunch on the barbecue, either we get invited by friends at a place or another of the camping place.

Mid-August comes and with it the time to get back “home”. Soon will be the beginning of school in German-Switzerland. Not like in Belgium or in France where it starts only in mid-september. By the time that we repack our things, return to Basel, we are en route to Riehen, where I will be staying at the “M”family.

The reception is quite warm. I have the impression that Mrs. M will lose her denture the way she’s smiling, trying so hard to have one ear joined by the other one. As for her husband, he’s losing his hair seemingly. They don’t have (any more) children but (to make up for it ?) a very small dog. Dad would call it a « legged sausage ». He is really nice, and Mrs M. promises me that we will walk him on the next morning. We supper together, Uncle, Auntie, the M and I, then my family leaves us and drives back to Basel. Tomorrow, my Uncle will have to go back to work, and next Monday school starts for me. I am a little afraid of this school of German Switzerland even though I know so little of the language.

The next morning we walk the dog very early in the morning, as soon as Mr. M. has left to work. Mrs M. is walking fast, and I find it very difficult to follow her. I fact I have grown quite fat (potatoes salad ?) lately and some physical activities would do me no harm. Walking every day make me get good legs indeed, and lose my « baby fat » as mom would call it.

From the first day on, everything goes well at school. The children here are quite well mannered and, well, since I am not able to understand the nasty things they could tell me, I am quite well protected.

What pleases me most is that not one single day starts without the entire class singing a song or two. They are all in tune and it’s so beautiful. I am very frustrated not being able to sing so well and not knowing these songs, and sometimes I feel angry at our Belgian teacher for not teaching us any. Anyway, I listen and enjoy this opportunity. For the rest, I manage the best I can. Calculation is not too hard, French amuses me and in all other disciplines I flounder. I did find a couple of French books in the attic and that makes me life much more pleasant. However, Mrs M. refuses by all means that I epilate my eyebrows as I used to do at home following Mom’s advice (otherwise I quickly look like a monkey). So, I have to hide a little to do it. But what, at war like in the war right ?

One day, Mrs M. has to go to the hairdresser’s. We get there all together, with Mr M. driving the car. While her hair is being taken care of, Mr M. takes me for a walk. We walk on very nice little path in the country side. It’s very beautiful and the weather’s nicely warm too. I take off my sweater. He takes me by the hand. Later he sits at next to a tree. He asks me if I am not tired, if I am not too hot, if I don’t want (really not ?) to remove my little top. What’s the matter if I am half naked in the sun ? Anyway, nobody comes around here, nobody could see us. I refuse. I am not too hot ; it was just nice to take off my jacket. He insists ; I refuse again.

Then he opens his wallet and takes out an enormous coin. He shows it to me. He says, laughingly : « If you sit on my knees and let me kiss you, you will get it, okay ? »

I jump on the money, grab it, put it in my pocket and say, laughingly too : « I don’t feel like sitting on your knees, I don’t feel like letting you kiss me, but I feel like keeping the money and if you protest I tell it to your wife ok ? He blushes and doesn’t answer.

It’s funny ; I had never seen an adult blush before.

It is time to walk back to the car, get Madam and go back home.

On the next day, with my very bright beautiful piece, I went to the grocery store. I bought two large packages of chocolate cookies. One for her and one for him. I put them on their respective pillows. To make them a surprise.

We never went for a walk again.

Too bad.