Herman Vangusty had good reason leave Georgetown seven years ago. Many reasons made him “migrate” to the “Ancient Country” town of New Amsterdam.
To begin with, he had lost his job as a High School superintendent mainly because of rumours. Those rumours included the dubious fact that his little half brother was involved; allegedly, in the activities of the city latest busy burglary gang. He never fully appreciated what that had to do with his job as the Private School’s overseer. He hardly saw the relation.
Gender matters – with sex in all its connotations – seemed to be holding centre stage suddenly in Georgetown in those days. Perhaps because of his private, non-contentious life-style, Herman soon became fodder for the speculation and spite of the wicked – and the envious. One additional rumour gained currency – that he was homosexual; he just HAD to be gay. No one knew of any female companion since his girlfriend died off a scooter in one of the country’s hundreds of fatal road traffic accidents. Never mind that yet another choice rumour was that she – Fiona was her lovely name – had the contracted HIV, harbinger of death before she died
Herman, a Capricorn-born grandmother grown gentleman of an individual, wondered at the wicked ways and evil intentions of men. The preferred privacy of a loner seemed to irritate the more gregarious, the loud and the aggressive he had withdrawn from eventually. And no wonder the beautiful lines of the advisory DESIDERATA became his life’s private and personal mantra; forbearance and tolerance his watchwords.
So he had called an old schoolmate and trusted buddy: “Hi Harry, I’ll cut to the chase. Can I take you up on that invitation to come share your adequate space in New Amsterdam? I need to escape from Georgetown
