The Natalie Incident Ch. 03

When we were ready we stood with our arms around each other and looked at ourselves in the full length mirror. Natalie looked beautiful, and I looked like myself. But what I really liked, was how we looked together. It almost made me forget that this would be our last night in each other’s company for a while. We grabbed our things and left the room behind us, held hands as we took the stairs, and went to see what the bright lights of Amsterdam had to offer.

**********

‘Oh my God,’ said Natalie, leaning against me and laughing nervously. I put my arm around her waist as we stood in the middle of the small bridge that crossed the black canal and looked along both sides of the bank at the sight.

‘I always thought this place was a myth,’ I said. ‘You know, like Atlantis.’

Nat laughed again. ‘I knew it was here, but I didn’t expect this.’

After leaving the hotel we’d eaten a leisurely dinner and shared a bottle of wine, before walking slowly into the heart of the city as the sun finally settled and night spread it’s wings. It was clear and warm, perfect to be outdoors, and the coloured lights illuminating the old architecture were a fabulous sight. We crossed Dam Square again, now even more beautiful, and I suggested we found somewhere else to get a drink; the wine had given me a taste and I really fancied a beer. We walked on, crossed another couple of canals, the small streets still full of people, and finally ended up on the bridge where we now stood.

We both stared at the thin line of water and buildings both sides that stretched for maybe a third of a mile and made up Amsterdam’s infamous Red Light District. It was bright, lit up with Neon that dripped reflections into the canal, busy with people strolling up and down taking everything in, and noisy, with bars spitting out music and well-built guys in suits trying to persuade the masses to come through the doors of various establishments. Most amazingly though, were the women displaying themselves behind windows and glass fronted doors, many dressed in underwear or bikinis. Where they stood was literally at the edge of the street, and as I watched I saw a guy walk up to a door a speak to a pretty Chinese girl wearing jeans, a glittered bra and huge smile. A brief conversation took place, the guy nodded his head and walked away, and the girl closed the door. Natalie turned to me.

‘Did you see that?’

I nodded. ‘Yeah. I guess the price was too high.’

‘I’m not totally naive,’ said Nat, ‘but these are prostitutes, right?’

‘Got to be,’ I said. ‘But I’ve never seen it so, well, obvious before.’ I’d been approached by hookers a few times in my life. You live in Los Angeles for a year, and it’s going to happen sooner or later. Those were women who lived in the shadows of buildings and crept back into them almost as soon as you said you weren’t interested, but this appeared to be a whole new concept. This looked as easy to buy sex as going to the local market to buy groceries.

As soon as the shock had registered with me my first thought was to get Natalie away from the area. It wasn’t the kind of place for her to be and I could tell by the tone of her voice and the way she was gripping my hand that she was a little scared. But as I looked around I could see that we weren’t the only couple, in fact both streets lining the canal were filled with men and women, some young like us, some of my parents age. They’re were a few groups of guys hanging around, making noise and daring each other on, but there were also groups of girls as well. I’d always imagined a place like this would have been full of single guys with dark eyes, long raincoats and suspicious looking packages under their arms. What I saw just looked like any busy night in a popular part of any town, with the exception that the quota of sex was hiked way up. It should have been sleazy, and I suppose it reality it was, but it also looked pretty safe and relaxed. The rest of the city was, so why not here?

‘Do you want to carry on down here,’ I said, ‘or shall we go? Your choice.’

‘I don’t know, it’s pretty weird,’ Natalie replied, and then she paused, looked like she was thinking hard. ‘No, come on, let’s look. Just stay close to me, okay?’

I kissed her hair and linked her arm through mine. ‘Don’t worry, you’re not going anywhere,’ I said. ‘You sure you’re not worried about being recognized around here?’

She grinned. ‘I don’t think anyone’s going to be looking at me.’

‘I will be,’ I said, and kissed her again. ‘C’mon.’

We walked off the bridge to left and started down the roughly bricked street, past a couple of sex shops that left nothing to the imagination, and then past a club called Moulin Rouge, advertising live stage shows every hour. Natalie said she wondered if Nicole and Ewan would be performing, and I replied that if they were, that was a story I wanted to read. We laughed, and then a man wearing a suit as black as his skin asked us if we wanted to see the show, and I shook my head while Natalie declined the offer in such a sweet voice that my heart melted for her just that little more. We walked past maybe a dozen of the windows containing the girls, and now we were no more than five feet away I could see just how nice some of them were. Whenever either of us caught their eye they would smile, or tap on the glass and beckon us over, and I wondered if any couples like us ever took advantage and fulfilled some threesome-style fantasy.

‘Why do you think they do it, Rich?’ Nat said in a quiet voice, as we passed one of the glass doors that separated a young looking blonde girl wearing a mini skirt and a tiny top. ‘They’re so pretty, they could be models or something.’

‘I know, I can’t work it out,’ I replied. ‘Maybe they make really good money.’ Natalie looked up at me and I could see that she needed a better answer than that, but I didn’t have one to give. In truth, I was pretty much baffled by the whole thing myself. I vaguely remembered reading somewhere that prostitution, alongside marijuana, was legal in Holland, and regulated by the Government. I guess that taking it from the underground and making it more acceptable maybe made it seem more attractive as a career move. It definitely seemed acceptable here; we passed two uniformed police officers who were leaning against railings watching the people pass by while a small, smartly dressed man negotiated a price just a few feet away. I gripped Natalie’s hand and shook my head; Amsterdam had surprised me in all sorts of ways in the last few days.

For the next half-hour we wandered slowly through the red light district, and gradually Natalie started to relax, which in turn made me feel more at ease. We were asked to view a couple more shows, which we resisted, although we did creep into a couple of sex shops, giggle at the video covers, and I almost fell over with laughter when Nat picked up a dildo roughly the size of my forearm and looked at it in horror. The owner of the store saw her do it and told her in broken English that the dildo was one of his best sellers, and she could have it for a good price, and she dropped it like it was made of hot lava and blushed crimson. That of course cracked me up even more, and she punched me on the arm and virtually wrestled me up the steps and out of the shop. By the time we were back outside she was laughing too, and we kissed and hugged each other before we carried on.

We mooched around a few other places, watched the people gaping at the windows just as we had, and stared as a fat guy walked straight out of a bar, across the street and fell head-first into the canal. The two cops we had seen earlier threw him a line and pulled him out to cheers from his waiting friends, and he proceeded to shake the water off, thank the cops and march straight first back into the bar dripping wet. I remarked to Natalie that you just had to admire that dedication to having a good time.

‘I don’t need to get wet for that,’ she said. ‘I’m having the best time being with you.’

We’d stopped at another bridge that crossed the canal at various points, and I held her. ‘You always know the right things to say, honey,’ I smiled.

‘That’s because I’m your girl. It’s my job.’

I think it was at that point that I just knew it was right, that me and Natalie were right together, regardless of what had passed between us before. I didn’t expect it to happen in the middle of a city sex area, and yet maybe that was all the more appropriate. I’d never have dreamed of walking around a place like this with any other girl; I didn’t have many male friends I’d have done it with. But the two of us complimented each other so well that we seemed to cancel out any fear or anxieties. There was no awkwardness between us, no insecurity. We were not only lovers but best friends. This will sound odd, but I felt like I’d known her all my life yet still had the thrill of just meeting her. Strange, I know, but it’s very hard to describe unless you’ve ever felt like I did right then. One thing I knew for sure; separating from her tomorrow morning, regardless of how short the time was, would feel like an ice-pick being jammed into my heart.

‘You still want that drink?’ said Natalie, her hand on my chest.

I nodded. ‘I think we’ve earned it, don’t you?’

‘Definitely. How about over there?’

She nodded her head in a direction behind me, and I turned and looked across the bridge towards a simple looking building that had a two large doors, no windows and a simple red neon sign above the entrance: Excalibur Rock Bar. The last two letters of the word Rock buzzed and faded in and out in an appropriate fashion. As I watched one of the doors swung open and two guys came out, and I could see the interior was fairly busy. I also heard some solid guitar coming from within.

‘Looks pretty good to me, as long as you’re okay with it?’ I said. She grinned and kissed my cheek, took me by the hand and led me across the small bridge. We waited for an elderly couple walking a small and scruffy little dog to pass the entrance, strolling along as if they were in a park instead of sex district, and then Natalie led us into the bar.

It was an average sized place, not too many frills or refinements, but straight away I liked it. A long bar ran a good length of one side, and there were a scattering of tables to the other and some booths with well worn red leather seats to our right. The walls were decorated like something out of biker’s wet dream; pictures of the open road, the confederate flag, and most impressively, three worn and dusty motorcycles that had somehow been bolted to the wall. On the one nearest to the door a skeleton wearing shades and a rag around his skull had been propped on the seat with a frozen grin, looking like a like Satan’s own Hell’s Angel. The floor was wooden and was strewn with sawdust, and on a small stage at the back a three-piece band were knocking out a version of Sabbath’s Paranoid, and doing it justice.

Back home, this was the kind of joint I liked, but it was also the kind that you kept your eyes open in and with one hand wrapped around the neck of a beer bottle. But here, like everywhere I’d been in Amsterdam, there was a decent feeling to the place, a good vibe. That might have had something to do with the dope that was obviously being smoked, I’d smelt the distinct sweetness as soon as we’d come in, but I suspected it was just because everyone was out for a good time, not looking for trouble. Still, it was a little rough around the edges, and I turned to Natalie. She was bobbing her head along to the band and looking around the place with wide eyes.

‘You all right being here?’ I said.

‘You bet,’ she replied, and slid her arm around my waist. We crossed over to the bar, filled with the old-fashioned style pump handles and backwall of optics that seemed to consist of nothing more than Jack Daniels and Vodka. There were two people working the bar, one a woman who looked to be in her late thirties and was wearing leather trousers that looked like she’d been poured into them, and a younger guy ,around my age, with red streaks in his short blonde hair and open white shirt. He was closest to where we stood, and he slapped some coins into the hand of the customer next to me and then moved to us. I indicated towards the bottled beer and he reached for a couple, flipped the tops off and placed them infront of us. As I handed him the money he looked at Natalie.

‘Does the lady want a glass?’ he said, in perfect English with a deep south accent. Natalie said she was fine and picked up the bottle, and he continued. ‘Don’t I know you?’

Nat shook her head. ‘I don’t think so. I’ve never been in here before.’

He frowned. ‘You look familiar.’ He shrugged and rang our beers through the till, slammed it closed and gave me my change.

‘You’re American?’ I said, slipping the coins into my back pocket.

‘Is it that obvious?’ he grinned, and we both nodded. ‘I guess you never really lose it.’

‘Guess not,’ I said. ‘Where are you from?’

‘Mississippi, the old crossword puzzle favorite,' he said, wiping a damp rag across the bar. ‘Jackson, to be precise. You know it?’

‘I know of it. Blues country.’

‘That’s the one. I came out here for a ten day vacation, never went home. That was eight years ago.’ He dropped the rag and stuck out his hand. ‘Eddie.’

We both shook hands and introduced ourselves, told him where we were from. ‘This your place?’ I said, taking a good pull on my beer. ‘Pretty cool.’

‘No, I just work here. That’s my sister, Rachel.’ Eddie jerked his thumb towards the woman in the leather trousers, who was upending a tequila bottle across a row of glasses. ‘We both mean to get real jobs, but it’s kind of fun around here. Good music, good people.’ He paused again and looked at Natalie, who regarded him over the top of her bottle with a sweet smile. ‘Damn, I know you,’ he said, ‘just can’t work it out. It’ll come to me.’ Natalie opened her mouth to say something but before she could Eddie was distracted by customers, and he excused himself.

We picked up our drinks and threaded our way through the people until we found one of the booths that was free. Natalie slid across the seat beside me, smoothing her dress under her thighs as she did so, and leaned against me and watched the band, who were now strutting through an old Hendrix number. They were good, and for a couple of minutes we just sat and listened to the music. Only when the last chords had rung out, and many of Excalibur’s patrons were clapping wildly, did we speak. Nat shifted her position to face me, rested one thigh across mine and took my hand.

‘You okay?’

I took a drink. ‘Fantastic. I’m listening to my favourite kind of music in a funky bar in the middle of Amsterdam with the most beautiful girl on Earth by my side.’ She smiled and looked down for a moment, as if she still didn’t believe I really meant the things that I said to her. I raised her chin. ‘So yes, I’m feeling more than okay.’

‘Funny, that guy being here for all this time.’

‘Yeah. I guess he must have just found his calling in life. Heavy rock and booze. Could be worse.’ I stopped and took a drink. ‘That’s probably how I’ll end up,’ I said, looking away.

Natalie tapped me on the arm, and I returned my eyes to hers. ‘No it won’t,’ she said softly. ‘You need to start having some faith in yourself, and I know that whatever you want to do, you’ll do it.’ She squeezed my leg. ‘I believe in you, and you’d better start doing as well, or I’ll be kicking your butt.’ She grinned. ‘Now kiss me infront of all these people.’

I did, feeling her tongue slide into my mouth and play with mine, her soft lips pressing against me, her breath fresh and with the slightest hint of beer. Her hands touched the buttons on my shirt, and when we parted they stayed there.

‘I want to thank you,’ she said, her face close to mine.

‘What for? You don’t have to thank me for anything.’

‘I do. For the way you make me feel. For tonight, the things you’ve shown me.’

I laughed softly. ‘Right, you’ve been to this city a bunch of times, but the first time with me you end up in the red light district and then a greasy rock bar. You shouldn’t be thanking me for that.’

‘No, I should. I’d never have come into a place like this if it wasn’t for you. But when I’m with you it’s all right. You give me the confidence to do things I wouldn’t normally do.’

‘You’re confident, honey,’ I said. ‘I see it all the time.’

‘No, I’m really shy,’ she replied, and placed her small palm against my cheek, stroked my skin. ‘I do things, but I have to build myself up to them. But you make it seem so easy for me, you just let me be myself, and that’s something I’ll always be grateful for.’ She paused, held both my hands in her own, and blinked at me a couple of times, her dark eyes dancing with pinpoints of reflected light.

‘That’s something I’ll always love you for,’ she whispered. ‘Because I do love you.’

Hearing her say that was overwhelming, almost too much for me to take. Not only was it wonderful to hear, but it was also a confirmation that the feelings I’d given to her weren’t in vain, that she felt for me as strongly I did for her. It’s hard enough in this life to find people who you can just get along with, but to find someone who loves you; that’s a rare thing.

Before I could say anything there was a banging of bottles on the table infront of us, and we both looked to see the barman Eddie standing there. ‘Two beers,’ he announced. ‘On the house.’

I grinned. ‘What’s the occasion?’

He pointed at Natalie. ‘You were the little girl in that crazy hitman movie. You’ve grown up, that’s why I didn’t recognize you at first.’

‘That was nearly ten years ago,’ said Nat. ‘I’ve changed a lot since then.’

‘You can say that again,’ he said, and gave me a sideways glance of approval. ‘Damn, that was a great film. You ever made anything else?’

Both myself and Natalie looked at each other with bemusement. ‘Couple of things, not much,’ she replied, her smile now matching the barman’s.

‘How long did you say you’d been out here, Eddie?’ I said.

‘Nearly eight years.’

‘You wouldn’t know,’ I said, and felt Natalie jab me in the leg with her thumb. Eddie laughed out loud, said he was sorry to disturb us and told us to enjoy the drinks. We thanked him, and watched as he made his way back to the bar, picking up dead glasses and weaving through people.

We sat there in silence for a minute, holding hands, not needing to say anything to each other. The band had started up again, this time with a slower tune that at first I hadn’t really noticed but now knew as one of my favourites. I watched the guitarist, dressed in regulation jeans and black t-shirt, run his hand down the neck of his Gibson and pick out chords that shimmered with brightness through his amplifier. I thought of my own guitar back home, and remembered how I’d sat on the back porch of my parents farmhouse and strummed through old blues tunes while Natalie had slept peacefully upstairs. That had been the first night she’d come back into my life. Time had certainly moved things on since then.

‘Have you ever heard this song before?’ I said, as I wrapped my arm around her waist and pulled her back against me. She shook her head as she relaxed into my chest and ran her fingers lazily up and down my arm, and for the next few minutes we listened as the band worked through a superb cover of Nothing Else Matters. There were few people in the bar that night who weren’t watching the band; even the roughnecks on the pool table had laid down their cues and were giving their full attention to Metallica’s classic ballad to love and loss. Although I’d heard the song hundreds of times, even played it myself occasionally, the version the bar band did that night would stay with me for a long time. I realized as the bass player sang the verses that I’d never really understood what the lyrics were trying to say: “Never opened myself this way, Life is ours we live it our way, All these words I don’t just say, And nothing else matters.” Suddenly it took on a whole new meaning, especially after the last week I’d spent with Natalie. I hugged her and was grateful when the guitarist stepped towards the edge of the small stage and launched into an emotional, overdriven solo that made the hair stand up on the back of my neck and had much of the Excalibur bar cheering. With everyone concentrating on the stage no one would see the tears in my eyes.