Somehow I find it funny. Yet it’s actually fairly sad—about people breaking up yet again. I feel pursued. I should call home. Just to make sure they’re not beating each other over the head. But not right now. It’s nighttime. And besides, Marie’s so close. She’s almost on top of me. I smell her skin. And a wonderful perfume. Sort of sweet. A little bit like Christmas. Like the Christmas tree or Christmas cookies. Makes me think of last Christmas. They were all there, even my uncle. I love my uncle, but they all spend their time bad-mouthing him. Whenever he’s needed, he’s not there. Well, he was always there for me. Including Christmas. He works for one of those big daily newspapers. The long articles on page 3 are usually by him. Sometimes he takes me along when he goes to the office. I like it. All the people work behind big tables. They have to tell people about the world. I couldn’t do it. I can’t even produce a proper piece of homework for school. Last Christmas we had just decided on boarding school and Castle Neuseelen, which was my bad luck, because I was given all sorts of things that would be good for boarding school and Castle Neuseelen. A poster of the local countryside, stuff for all sorts of occasions, a shaving kit, etc. And labels. So that I could stick them all over everything and write my name on them. Benjamin Lebert. Man, I was scared about coming here. And man, I’m still scared now that I’ve got here. Two days already. Two days and one and a half nights. And now here I am in some girls’ dorm room, and there’s a girl lying on top of me. Maybe it’s progress. She’s tickling my neck. Feels strange. I hardly know her. But nice. Janosch says girls in boarding schools are always really up front, particularly the new girls. If I were just a little different, things would happen. What does Janosch mean by
different
? I’m always the same way. Or am I always different? Why is this girl lying on me? Because she’s drunk? Because I’m drunk? Doesn’t matter. Main thing is she’s lying on me. I have another mouthful of beer. I’m getting myself ready to say something, but Marie gets there first. I forget what it was I wanted.
“They told me you were so unusual.”
“Unusual? Okay. I’m a cripple. That’s pretty unusual.”
I take a drag on my cigarette. So does Marie. Her full lips pucker. Sexy. I take another mouthful of beer. Can’s empty. I open the next one. Marie gets up—she wants more chips. I look at her body in the flickering light of the candles. It’s not long before she lies down with me again. Through her top, I can feel her nipples on my stomach.
“Someone once told me cripples are just people too,” she says.
“Funny how much people seem to tell you. Nobody’s ever told me anything. I have to find it all out for myself. But okay, you’re right, cripples are just people too. Rather odd people.” Now it’s Guns n’ Roses from the speakers, singing “Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door.” I’m not in the mood for songs like this, but still, it’s a great song. The old Bob Dylan lyrics haven’t lost anything. There’s a funny feeling inside me. I swallow more beer.
“So how are you a cripple?” Marie wants to know.
“My left side is almost paralyzed.” Marie sighs. “I can hardly move my arm or my leg. They feel numb. I only feel something if someone actually hurts me.” Marie’s face moves till it’s right next to mine. Our lips are almost touching.
“I won’t hurt you,” she whispers. “Never. Nor should anyone, ever. It’s only people who are completely different who can nourish the growth of something new.”
“How old are you?”
“Sixteen,” she says.
“That sounds awfully mature for sixteen.”
“I know. I’m mature.” She grins.
“And what do you think is going to grow out of me?”
“No idea. You’ll have to see for yourself. If you’re lucky!” And she starts grinning again.
I look over at Troy. He’s
different
? I’m always the same way. Or am I always different? Why is this girl lying on me? Because she’s drunk? Because I’m drunk? Doesn’t matter. Main thing is she’s lying on me. I have another mouthful of beer. I’m getting myself ready to say something, but Marie gets there first. I forget what it was I wanted.
“They told me you were so unusual.”
“Unusual? Okay. I’m a cripple. That’s pretty unusual.”
I take a drag on my cigarette. So does Marie. Her full lips pucker. Sexy. I take another mouthful of beer. Can’s empty. I open the next one. Marie gets up—she wants more chips. I look at her body in the flickering light of the candles. It’s not long before she lies down with me again. Through her top, I can feel her nipples on my stomach.
“Someone once told me cripples are just people too,” she says.
“Funny how much people seem to tell you. Nobody’s ever told me anything. I have to find it all out for myself. But okay, you’re right, cripples are just people too. Rather odd people.” Now it’s Guns n’ Roses from the speakers, singing “Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door.” I’m not in the mood for songs like this, but still, it’s a great song. The old Bob Dylan lyrics haven’t lost anything. There’s a funny feeling inside me. I swallow more beer.
“So how are you a cripple?” Marie wants to know.
“My left side is almost paralyzed.” Marie sighs. “I can hardly move my arm or my leg. They feel numb. I only feel something if someone actually hurts me.” Marie’s face moves till it’s right next to mine. Our lips are almost touching.
“I won’t hurt you,” she whispers. “Never. Nor should anyone, ever. It’s only people who are completely different who can nourish the growth of something new.”
“How old are you?”
“Sixteen,” she says.
“That sounds awfully mature for sixteen.”
“I know. I’m mature.” She grins.
“And what do you think is going to grow out of me?”
“No idea. You’ll have to see for yourself. If you’re lucky!” And she starts grinning again.
I look over at Troy. He’s
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