Amanda in Holland Read online

  Praise for the Amanda Travels Series

  “Adventure, mystery and friendship — I loved learning about Holland through the eyes of Amanda and Leah!”

  —Alex Lyttle, author of From Ant to Eagle

  “The story is told in a conversational voice that will draw all readers in and deftly mixes the cultural details with how Amanda engages in and solves the mystery.”

  —Jacqui Murray, author of Born in a Treacherous Time

  “I had to smile as page after page the essence of the country is superbly captured through Amanda’s eyes.”

  —Irene Butler, author and travel writer

  “Foster’s writing is conversational and easy to read, and young readers will likely find the pages flying by.”

  —Quill & Quire

  “A mysterious travel adventure with a brave, inquisitive, compassionate heroine. This is a fast-paced, fun read! Amanda will take you on a wonderful, visual, descriptive adventure.”

  —Author PJ Sarah Collins & daughter, Elena Collins, Age 11

  “Young readers will have great fun travelling alongside Amanda Ross in this fast-paced mystery that will keep readers guessing until the very last chapter.”

  —Jan L. Coates, Finalist-Governor General’s Literary Awards

  “A charming and fast-paced story that will delight its young audience as Amanda and Leah travel along the historic Danube River to deliver a very unique and mysterious violin.”

  —Suzanne de Montigny, author

  “I love how Ms. Foster puts the reader right in the action and kids get to learn about the exciting places Amanda goes.”

  —This Kid Reviews Books

  The Amanda Travels Series:

  Amanda in Arabia: The Perfume Flask

  Amanda in Spain: The Girl in the Painting

  Amanda in England: The Missing Novel

  Amanda in Alberta: The Writing on the Stone

  Amanda on the Danube: The Sounds of Music

  Amanda in New Mexico: Ghosts in the Wind

  Amanda in Holland: Missing in Action

  Copyright © 2019 Darlene Foster

  Cover and internal design © 2019 Central Avenue Marketing Ltd.

  Cover Image: © iStock

  Map: © facts.co

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Published by Central Avenue Publishing, an imprint of Central Avenue Marketing Ltd.

  www.centralavenuepublishing.com

  Published in Canada

  Printed in United States of America

  978-1-77168-171-1 pbk

  1. JUVENILE FICTION/Travel 2. JUVENILE FICTION / People & Places - Europe

  Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication

  Title: Amanda in Holland : missing in action / Darlene Foster.

  Names: Foster, Darlene, author.

  Series: Foster, Darlene. Amanda travels; 7.

  Description: Series statement: Amanda travels; 7

  Identifiers: Canadiana (print) 20190103817 | Canadiana (ebook) 20190103825 | ISBN 9781771681711 (softcover) | ISBN 9781771681728 (HTML) | ISBN 9781771681735 (Kindle)

  Classification: LCC PS8611.O7883 A69 2019 | DDC jC813/.6—dc23

  To Cecilia and Peggy

  1

  “WHO IS THAT BOY?” ASKED AMANDA.

  Her great-aunt adjusted her glasses and squinted at the faded black-and-white photograph in the battered album. “That is my oldest brother, Harold.” She placed a wrinkled hand on her heart and glanced away. “I believe he was sixteen in that picture. Let me see … yes, it was just before he joined the army and went overseas.”

  “You mean he was in the war?”

  “Yes, he fought in World War II. Harold was so excited to join up he lied about his age.” A tear rolled down Great-Aunt Mary’s cheek. “But he never came back. Missing in action was what they told our parents.” She sighed. “I still miss him after all these years.”

  “That’s so sad. I didn’t know anyone in our family had been in the war. We’ve been learning about twentieth-century wars at school.” Amanda looked at the picture again. “Is that his dog beside him?”

  “Yes, that was Joey, his cocker spaniel. Joey was devoted to Harold. He went to the railway station every day waiting for his master, until he passed away seven years later.” Aunt Mary had a faraway look.

  “Here, you can have this picture.” Aunt Mary carefully took the snapshot from the silver corner tabs holding it in place. “Harold had spunk, just like you. And he wanted to see the world. Last time we heard from him, he was in Holland.”

  “Really? I’m going to Holland to meet my friend Leah Anderson from England next week. She wants me to see the tulip fields. You like tulips, don’t you, Aunt Mary?”

  “Oh, yes. They are my favourite flower. One time, Harold saved up his pennies to buy me a tulip for my birthday.”

  Amanda took one last gulp of tea and brushed her bangs from her eyes. “Thanks so much. I need to get going.” She kissed her great-aunt on the cheek.

  “Have a wonderful time in Holland. Say hi to Leah from me.” Aunt Mary waved from the doorway.

  Amanda hung on to the picture of the great-uncle she never got to meet, wondering what he would have been like.

  Amanda Ross adjusted her glasses and peered up at the tall, colourful houses as she stepped off the curb. The scalloped roofs pierced the sky, making her feel shorter than usual. She didn’t notice the bicycle until it was too late.

  The woman cyclist swerved to miss her. The bike clattered against the railing. An avalanche of vibrant tulips tumbled from the basket, landing at Amanda’s feet.

  “Dombo!” shouted the woman.

  “I’m so sorry.” Amanda dropped to her knees and frantically picked up flowers. She held up a white one with red stripes. “This one is so pretty.”

  “It is called the Canada 150 tulip. It was named for the one hundred and fiftieth anniversary of Canada.”

  “Really? I’m from Canada.”

  “That is very nice, but you really must watch when you cross the street here in Amsterdam. There are many bicycles.”

  “I’m so sorry about that. I’ll be more watchful from now on.” Amanda lowered a large handful of colourful tulips into the basket attached to the front of the woman’s bike. Something moved at the bottom of the basket.

  Before she could see what it was, the woman quickly covered it with tulips. She shoved a Canada 150 tulip under Amanda’s nose. “Here, you can have this one.” She got on her bicycle and skilfully made her way through the throng of pedestrians and other bikes on the bridge that crossed a canal.

  “Are you OK?” Leah ran up to Amanda. “We should have warned you about the bicycles.”

  “Maybe you should stick closer to us.” Leah’s dad noticed the flower in Amanda’s hand. “What have you got there?”

  “A Canada 150 tulip. The woman who almost ran me over gave it to me.”

  Leah pointed. “Hey, there is the Dutch pannenkoeken house I told you about. Let’s get something to eat. I’m starved.”

  This time, Amanda looked both ways before crossing the street.

  “Mmmm, these sure are good.” She took another mouthful of a flat pancake heaped with apples, cinnamon and whipped cream. “Thanks a lot for inviting me to join you here in Holland.”

  “I had to be here on business,
and Leah wanted to come along. It’s one of her favourite places. She needed some company.” Mr. Anderson smiled. “Besides, it’s always nice to see our young Canadian friend.”

  “Yes, and we have so much catching up to do. Emails and texting are great, but it’s always better to chat in real life.” Leah grinned at Amanda.

  When they stepped out of the restaurant, a cluster of bikes flew by. Amanda thought she saw the woman who almost ran into her among them.

  “Can we go on a canal tour boat, Dad?” asked Leah. “It’s such a marvellous way to see the city.”

  “Sure, that’s a good idea. That way Amanda can get a good view of things from the water. I recall she enjoyed the sailboat ride off the coast of the Isle of Wight.” He ruffled Amanda’s short brown bob. “Just a quick ride today.”

  They boarded a long, low boat that took them at a leisurely pace through busy canals. Mr. Anderson explained, “Amsterdam was built around the canals. The city is below sea level.”

  “Why doesn’t it flood then? Why don’t the houses sink? And why are they so tall and skinny?” Amanda had so many questions.

  Leah smirked and pulled back her long blonde hair into a ponytail. “I’m sure my dad, the engineer, will be able to explain all that.”

  Mr. Anderson cleared his throat. “Well, the houses in Amsterdam used to be taxed on frontage, so they built tall, narrow houses to save money. Wooden stilts driven into the wet ground before construction were used to support the houses. That is why they don’t sink.”

  Amanda pointed. “Why is that one over there leaning sideways?”

  “Due to the wet ground, some of the supports are now rotting, causing houses to tilt and sink into the earth. They now build the houses with concrete foundations.”

  Leah rolled her eyes. “I think it’s time to get off the boat, as I’ve had enough of the construction lesson.”

  They disembarked at the next stop, in front of a shop with large wheels of cheese piled high outside the door. Once inside, the sour-milk scent of cheese greeted them. A cheerful girl in a pointy white hat with wings on each side handed out samples.

  “Yum, this cheese is so good.” Amanda smacked her lips. “Let’s buy some for a snack later.”

  Mr. Anderson took out his wallet. “Good idea. We’ll take a wedge of Gouda and one of that one we just sampled.” He pointed to the cheeses.

  “You mean the Edam?” asked the sales clerk. “These are good choices.”

  While Leah’s father paid for the purchase, the girls went outside. Amanda heard a whimpering sound. “Did you hear that?” she asked Leah.

  “Did I hear what?”

  “A sound like a baby or a baby animal. I think it came from over there.” Amanda pointed at a large garbage can across the road. “There it is again!” She stepped off the curb.

  “Amanda, watch for bikes!” Leah shouted.

  One whizzed past, barely missing Amanda. She didn’t even notice. She headed for a cardboard box sitting beside the smelly garbage. Bending over, she opened it. Curled up in the bottom, a brown-and-white puppy with the biggest chocolate-brown eyes she had ever seen stared up at her. The puppy whimpered and put his head between his front paws.

  2

  “WHAT IS IT?” ASKED LEAH AS SHE CAME UP BEHIND AMANDA.

  “You won’t believe this. It’s a puppy!” She reached into the box and pulled out the quivering dog. “He’s soooo sweet.” Amanda hugged his soft, fluffy body close to her.

  “Who would leave a puppy in a box, beside a dustbin?” Leah shook her head. “That’s awful.”

  “What have you two got there?” Mr. Anderson arrived carrying the bag of cheeses.

  “This puppy was just left here in a box, like a bit of rubbish, Dad.” Leah’s voice shook. “We can’t just leave him here.”

  “How about we take him over to the girl at the cheese shop? Maybe she knows who he belongs to or what to do,” replied Mr. Anderson. He led the way back across the road.

  “Hallo!” The young girl’s face lit up when she saw Mr. Anderson and the two girls come back into the shop.

  “We found this puppy in a box by the garbage cans. Do you know who he belongs to?” asked Amanda.

  The girl’s face fell. “No, I don’t. But this has been happening a lot lately. People have a dog they don’t want, and they just throw him away.”

  “What can we do?” The puppy snuggled closer to Amanda.

  “Come back tomorrow. I’ll ask around. Maybe I’ll have some information for you.” The young girl flipped a yellow braid over her shoulder and gave them a broad smile. “My name is Lisa.”

  Amanda put the puppy inside her jacket and held on to him tightly as they walked back to the hotel.

  “I’m not sure the hotel will like us having a dog in the room.” Leah’s dad sighed. “I’d best get some dog food, unless he likes cheese. I think I saw a pet shop down the street. I’ll be right back.”

  The girls spread newspapers on the floor.

  “I wonder how old he is.” Amanda stroked his soft fur.

  “Are we sure it’s a he?” asked Leah.

  “Yes, I checked. He’s a he, all right.”

  “What should we call him?”

  “Let’s call him Joey. That was the name of my great-uncle’s dog.”

  Mr. Anderson soon returned with dog food, a dish, leash, collar and basket. “Here you are, sport. I hope this will do until we find you a home.”

  Joey approached the food warily, looked around and then gulped it down. His little tail wagged all the while.

  “He is rather amusing, but he might need a bath. He’s a little stinky.” Leah’s dad pulled out his cell phone. “Why don’t you two take him across the street to the park for a walk and a wee? I have to make a couple of calls. Make sure you keep him on the leash.” He started dialling. “And watch for bikes; they’re everywhere!”

  Many people took advantage of the sunny day and lounged on the grass across the street in a large, pie-shaped park. The girls took turns walking the dog. Joey darted all over the place, making him hard to control. He saw another dog, got excited and tugged Leah along, straining on the leash. She tripped and let go.

  “Stop! Stop!” yelled Amanda as Joey sped past her. She ran after him as he jumped over people and around shrubs and colourful flower beds. She lost sight of the puppy. “Oh, no. Where has he gone?”

  Her taller friend shouted from behind her, “I think he went over there by those bronze statues.”

  Amanda ran in the direction Leah pointed and found herself in the middle of a large group of people dressed in old-fashioned clothing. They stood completely still. She ran around a musketeer with a big, floppy hat, aiming his long rifle. Confronted by a drummer, she nearly tripped over a metal barking dog. Amanda felt like she had stepped into a play where no one moved.

  “Are you by chance looking for this little fellow?” An older teenage boy with a wide grin held a wiggling Joey in his arms.

  “Yes. Thank you so much. He got away on us.” Amanda took the panting dog from him. “You were very naughty to run away on us like that.”

  “They tend to do that.” The young man brushed his bushy blond hair from his face and chuckled. “Where are you from?”

  “I’m from Canada, and my friend Leah is from England. I’m Amanda, by the way.”

  “Hallo, Amanda and Leah.” He nodded to both of them. “I’m Jan, from the Netherlands. Jan is John in the Dutch language. It is spelled J-A-N but pronounced Yan.”

  “Nice to meet you, Jan. What is this?” Amanda pointed to the figures behind her.

  “That is a 3D replica of Rembrandt’s famous painting, The Night Watch. Rembrandt is Amsterdam’s most famous painter. The original painting is in the Rijksmuseum. These figures make his painting come to life. This place is called Rembrandt Square, and a statue of the great painter is there in the middle.” Jan pointed to a figure of a man on a pedestal wearing a beret and a flowing cape.

  “That’s just awesome. Th
anks for the info, Jan. We’d better get back now.”

  Jan shrugged his square shoulders. “It’s nothing. Enjoy Holland and hang on to that puppy.” As he walked away, he waved to a woman across the street.

  Amanda spied red-and-white-striped tulips in the basket of the bike the woman stood beside. Was it the woman on the bicycle who almost ran into her? She squeezed Joey close to her.

  “Are you OK?” asked Leah. “I’m sorry I let go of the lead.”

  “It’s all right. We got him back.”

  “Jan seems nice.”

  “Everyone here is very nice.” Amanda looked back to see Jan and the woman talking. She mumbled, “Or almost everyone.”

  3

  THAT NIGHT, AMANDA KEPT WAKING UP TO CHECK ON THE puppy sleeping in his basket. The next morning, she found him snuggled against her in bed. She gave him a belly rub and stroked his velvety ears before she got up.

  Leah’s father greeted the girls at breakfast. “I called an animal shelter. It appears to be on the way to my meeting. I’ll take the puppy with me and drop him off.”

  Amanda felt a pang in her heart, although she knew she couldn’t keep him. “What will happen to him?”

  Mr. Anderson patted her hand. “They will find him a good home.” He turned to Leah. “You and Amanda can take the canal boat and stop at the Anne Frank House. You liked it there the last time you visited with your mum, and I know Amanda will find it interesting.”

  “My teacher told us about Anne Frank and read to us from her book. I would love to see the house she and her family hid in during World War II.” Amanda kissed Joey’s soft, fuzzy head and wiped a tear from her cheek before anyone noticed.

  “Come along, Amanda. We’d better get going as there is always a queue.” Leah picked up her backpack.

  The girls boarded a boat. Amanda, in order to get the best pictures of the interesting houses and sights along the banks of the canals, jumped from one side of the boat to the other. Noticing boats with flowers growing in pots on the decks and curtains in the windows, she asked, “Do people live on some of these boats?”