Taboo

Chapter XXII

With the onslaught of the summer crowds, our team was expanding. Nir was obviously top dog, with Steven - sorry, Angel Eyes - next in line, followed by Jimmy, then Chevy and I. There was also Frankie, Jenny, Cara, Lucy, and Ruari. But by the time summer had arrived, we had several new additions.

Cody was from Detroit. Scrawny and gaunt, he earned the unfortunate nickname Aids. We weren't the most mature or politically correct crew in those days. Cody came in pretty cocky, so Chevy and I decided to humble him before fully accepting him. The truth is, we liked Cody. He just needed to tone things down a bit. And we weren't the only ones who liked Cody. He was a big hit with the ladies, and Allen too.

Nicky was from Dublin. He was a redheaded, wiry ball of energy with tattoos, piercings and a permanent smile. The Ginja Ninja was a fun guy to be around, but exhausting at the same time. He never stopped moving or yelling. That's right, Nicky didn't talk, he shouted as loud and fast as possible, usually close enough to smell what his last drink was.

Bim was from England with Finnish roots. He was tall, thin, and had a background in MMA, which was surprising given that he looked more like a DJ than a fighter. He slept in Vondel Park one night, earning the nickname Bum.

Will, a young guy from South Africa, had a German father which gave him dual citizenship. He was pretty quiet and mature, but loved to party as much as the rest of us.

Matt was also from South Africa. He was just a really nice guy. A cruiser, with boy-next-door looks, enjoying being a young dude travelling the world.

Patrick was a tall, lanky, handsome Australian with Heath Ledger vibes. He was humble and charming, with a movie star grin and easy to get along with. Patrick lived on a boat with his Dutch girlfriend, a spot they'd recently acquired after moving out of a squatting situation. Unexpectedly, he got blind drunk one night and lost control of his body. Trying desperately to walk normally, we all cracked up watching him as he moved along the street like the lead singer from the Talking Heads. From that night on, he was known as Floppy.

And last but not least, Zach. As Kiwi as it gets, with his laid-back attitude and extensive background in Outdoor Adventure Sports, his nickname could have only been Bro or Cuz. We went with Cuz since most of us called each other Bro already. At any given time of any given day, Cuz could be found on any one of Amsterdam's endless cafe terraces. He'd sit by himself, unshaven, sporting a pair of jandals, sipping an espresso and smoking rollies.

Closer to our age than the rest, Chevy and I took a liking to Cuz straight away. Over several drunken nights, we'd learned a fair amount about his military background, which explained why, despite appearing calm and laid-back, his leg never stopped moving. Whether standing or sitting, one leg always had a mind of its own, bouncing away relentlessly in stark contrast to the rest of him that nearly begged for a pulse check.

"Where the fuck is Zach?" Jimmy was pacing outside, pulling his hat off, playing with his hair, checking the time, putting his hat back on, and checking the time again. It was a continuous loop. One that indicated stress, which Jimmy was constantly under at the time, both at work and in his love life. He was furious that Cuz had gone awol during one of his first shifts.

"You guys are short-staffed now. He'd better turn up."

For some reason, Jimmy felt threatened by Cuz at first. I never understood why, but he had it in for him: "Zach thinks he's so smart, sitting there with his little coffee and his legs crossed." That was his only criticism, and it made no sense whatsoever. It didn't last, of course, but it was a rocky beginning. Cuz, being his mellow self, was most likely oblivious to the whole thing.

I tried to calm Jimmy down and told him I'd take care of it. A few minutes later, I received an SMS. It was Cuz: "Sorry Bro. A Dutch guy tried hitting on Franzi, so she let him have it. He slapped her, so I finished him. I'll get her home, then be right back."

Chev walked up just as I finished reading it. "Holy shit! Read this. Some guy hit Zach's girlfriend."

Chevy read the text with his mouth open. I told Cuz to have the rest of the night off and to just look after Franzi.

The next day, we tried to get a play-by-play, but Cuz being Cuz, he just repeated what was in the text, followed by a short chuckle, then an apology. Needless to say, we were both glad Cuz was on our side.

A few nights later, Chev and I were at a bar grabbing some beers when Cuz walked up behind us. "Boys, shots!"

We were trying to have an easy night and stay relatively sober, so shots weren't part of the plan. About to break the news to him, he grabbed us both in some sort of Vulcan Death grip, sinking his fingers deep into pressure points below our necks.

"Shots!" He held us there as the shots were poured. It was only after I paid for the round that he let us go.

"What the fuck was that, Mate?!" Chev handed Cuz his shot, then rubbed his neck.

"Cheers Boys!" Cuz downed his in a flash, then stumbled toward the bar. He was pretty drunk and had a faraway look in his eyes.

"I like you fellas. I've been through some shit. It's good to have you two around."

We listened for a while as he opened up about some difficult times, then moved on to the next bar.

Photo by Tim Mossholder on Unsplash

I was a bit clueless back then, so I never followed up with Cuz to see how he was doing the next day. If that happened now, I'd go for a sober stroll with him and let him know he could talk to me anytime. I didn't understand back then the importance of men being able to open up to other men and how difficult it is. Probably because I'd also bought into the farse of toxic masculinity suggesting that discussing emotions is taboo. What a load of shit.

Opening up about your feelings is not a sign of weakness. It takes courage to ask for help. And you know what? Once you learn to ask for help and see how normal it is, it'll make you more conscious of others in need of support. Asking for help leads to offering help. So, essentially, seeking support is a responsibility, one that takes strength.

It's been years since Cuz and I have been in touch. I hope, wherever he is, he's doing alright. And if he needs a friend to talk to, I hope he has one. And I hope the same for all of you.