A Few Dutch Words

A young couple sat down at the table next to mine where I sat sipping Earl Grey tea and reading the mystery novel which arrived in the mail yesterday evening. Trying to read from then on, because the man spoke in one of those radio announcer voices that even at normal volume carry across a large room. And so, while reading the same three sentences on page 23 over and over, and understanding not a word except 'and' and 'the', I began to eavesdrop.

I didn't help. The context of what they were talking about was as mysterious as those three sentences. Until they changed the subject and the man said: "And after all those rejections, by  the family, university, work , women, he rejected himself!" What?  His companion then asked him the question I wanted to ask: "Rejected himself? What do you mean?"  "He moved to Russia, changed his name, his habits, his way of thinking."

That's all I heard.  They changed the subject again, or did they?  They spoke of family matters, and I don't know why but  got the impression that the man who "rejected himself" was a family member or a friend.  But maybe he was talking about a movie or a novel.

I couldn't hold it any longer, got up and went to the bathroom in the corner of the cafe.   When I returned, the couple was conversing in one of the languages that I fluently don't speak.  I recognized it as Dutch.   Were they Dutch? Their English was free of a foreign accent.  I took a look at their clothes and shoes seeking signs that their foreign make was different from the foreign make of the clothes and shoes we wear in America, but I didn't notice any indications.

But I heard, or thought I heard, in their conversation a few Dutch words that I had managed one way or another to acquire over the years, 'geweer', 'moord', 'vijand', that translate to 'gun', 'murder', 'enemy', respectively.

They finished their cappuccinos, got up, carried their empty cups to the bus tray by the counter, which told me that they knew the routine and had been here before, and stepped out,  crossing the street eastward toward the university.   I looked around me checking if I was in a dream world, or on some other planet, not believing what I had just witnessed.  The table to my right was empty and clean, were these people here a moment ago, did I read it in my mystery novel, or did I make it all up?