What do I wish for her? I wish her the best. I wish her luck and good health and then I wish that we wouldn't fight so much. So that she wouldn't have to be sad.
Another star falls.
“Did you make a wish on that one?” Mum asks.
I nod.
And Mum smiles.
10
“So have you ever had pets?” Laura asks me.
“A few. Nothing with fur, though. A few fish, a turtle that ran away. And a budgie.”
“I had a budgie, too, once. But I killed it,” says Phillip.
“What?” I say. Laura starts to laugh.
“Shut up, Laura!” Phillip snaps. “It was really tragic. He used to fly free in my room and one day I went into my room and forgot that I'd left the cage open. I slammed the door shut as soon as I noticed, but Hansi was caught in the middle.”
Now Laura's really having a fit.
“What do you mean, in the middle?” I ask.
“I crushed him. With the door.”
“Ouch!”
“Yeah, it was not a great moment,” Phillip says, but even he can't stop smiling a little.
“It was my fault that our budgie Joker died,” I say. “I left him out in the sun too long and his weak heart couldn't take it.”
I still remember the Ferrero Rocher box that we buried him in. Funny. That box never showed up again.
“He was a good budgie,” I say.
Laura raises her cup high. “To Joker. He was a good budgie.”
“It's all a bit macabre, isn't it?” I say then. “I was pretty devastated at the time.”
“Me, too,” Phillip says.
“They're just animals,” Laura says.
“Come on!” Phillip says.
“Why? If someone I really cared about died, that would be worse. A human being, I mean.”
“I think the worst is for parents whose children die,” I say.
“I would be the saddest if Pia died.” Laura looks down at the table and starts sweeping a few spilled grains of sugar back and forth.
“Who's Pia?” I ask.
“My baby sister. She is so sweet. I miss her so much. She lives with my father.”
Phillip stands up and gets himself some more coffee.
“Anyone else?” he asks, lifting the pot.
I shake my head, but Laura hands him her cup.
“When is your mother coming back?” he asks as he pours the coffee.
“Next weekend.” Laura finally brushes the crumbs off the table. “Hey, listen, why don't we go somewhere next weekend â leave Saturday and come back on Sunday!”
Phillip shrugs and looks in my direction.
“Where would we go, and how would we get there?” I ask. Just go somewhere? Can you do that?
“We just buy a ticket and go. Don't know where. Wherever we want! Phillip, where should we go?”
Phillip thinks for a minute.
“I have an uncle in the east...”
Laura beams. “Isn't it great to have a big family? Here's to family!” And she lifts her mug high.
***
“Mum?”
It's just before ten. The movie's about half over.
“Mmmmh?” Mum yawns.
“Mum, we're thinking of going away for the weekend.”
“And who is we?”
“Laura, Phillip and I. We're going to go to Phillip's uncle's place. Just for one night.”
“And does his uncle know about this?”
“Yes.” Does she believe me?
“And you'll be back home on Sunday?”
“Yes.”
Mum yawns again. “Do you have enough money?”
“Yeah. It's really cheap if you go on a weekend.”
“Okay then.”
“Thanks!” Yippee! Wahoo!
Mum yawns again. “I can't stay awake any longer. Turn the lights out before you go up, okay?” And she goes up to her room.
I pull the phone onto the sofa and call Laura.
“It's okay. I can come.”
“Fantastic. Phillip has already called his uncle, and it's okay with him, too.”
The living-room door opens and Dennis comes in and sits down.
“I have to hang up,” I say. “I'll see you tomorrow.” Then I hang up the phone.
Dennis takes the TV guide off the table, leafs through it and looks up at the screen now and then.
The movie is extremely boring. I'll go to bed. I have a math exam in the morning.
“Hey, Miriam,” he says. I stop at the door. “Everything okay?”
He turns around and looks at me. I can only see his eyes above the arm of the sofa.
I nod and then I go up to bed.
11
“So what are you doing this weekend?” Ines asks after math.
“We're going away for the weekend.”
“Really? Where are you going?”
Laura didn't mention it this morning. I don't want Suse and Ines to know where we're going. And above all, I don't want them to know who “we” are.
“Heading east.”
Ines nods and fishes around in her backpack.
“Are you free later today?” she asks.
I shrug. Look briefly at Laura, who is copying stuff into her notebook.
“Why?”
“I was going to drop by,” Ines says and adds quickly, “I mean for real. I'm not just using you as an excuse.”
“Okay. No problem.” Laura closes her notebook and goes outside.
“When?”
“Around three?”
“Sure.”
Ines hasn't been to my house very often lately. And I haven't been to her place in a long time, either.
I like Ines. I like her better than Suse. We've known each other since fifth grade, but always with Suse. When it was just two of us it would be me and Suse or Suse and Ines.
Ines has been with Flo for half a year. They met at some holiday camp last summer. Flo's okay, but sometimes I wonder how he sees her. She always looks pretty ordinary. I mean, when you look at Suse you can see that she thinks about what she puts on every morning. Ines just wears any old junk. Jeans and a sweater. Shoes. Jacket. Nothing special. Yet one morning when she came into the washroom she pulled up this plain gray sweatshirt and underneath it she was wearing a strapless corset. Dark red with black lace and bows and garters. And matching panties. All for Flo. She showed it to us like it was a new book or CD she'd just bought. As if it was totally normal.
Ines comes over in the afternoon. I get a bottle of sparkling water from the cellar, glasses from the kitchen and carry it all up to my room. Put on some music. Ines sits down and takes a glass but she doesn't drink anything. I really want to ask her whether she's here because Flo was busy, but I bite my tongue. That would be mean.
“So, what's new?” I ask her.
“Same as always. Oh, no, wait. Flo's actually allowed to come over on my birthday.”
“Great. How come?”
“I'm turning sixteen.”
Sixteen means not just alcohol and real ID, it means love.
Sixteen means that Ines can have her boyfriend up to her room with the door shut.
“What's new with you?” she asks.
“Nothing.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
“Something's going on with you, Miriam.”
“What do you mean?”
“You're different. Is something going on that I don't know about?”
Who can I tell? Laura sure doesn't want to talk about it. And why should it be a secret? Why not tell Ines?
So I nod.
“Is it a secret?”
“Yes,” I say.
“A good one or a bad one?” Ines frowns.
“Good. I think,” I add quickly.
“Are you in love?”
I nod gently.
She grins. “So, who is it? Do I know him?”
And then I wonder if she will really understand. That there is no “him.” That it's Laura. And I don't know any more whether I know Ines well enough, because I don't know how she will react.
“No.”
“So? How long has it been going on? Are you sleeping together?”
“No.”
Ines leans forward a bit and a bit of soda spills onto my carpet.
“Does he even know?”
I shake my head.
“Why not?”
“Because. It's complicated.”
“But why?”
“Because he (he!)...just wants to be friends.”
“Oh, shit.” Ines finally takes a sip from her glass. “So what are you going to do now?”
“I don't know. Besides, everything's good the way it is. Maybe it's better this way. You can never have enough friends, right?”
Ines shrugs her shoulders and puts down her glass. She stands up and opens the balcony door, sits on the bench and lights a cigarette.
“Do you have the hots for him?”
“What do you mean?”
“You know, do you want to touch him and kiss him and everything.”
“Yes.”
“There, see? Having friends is all well and good. But love is also great. Maybe even a bit better.” Ines grins at me.
“Yeah?”
“So what are you waiting for?”
I grin and shrug. Then I go out to the balcony and take a drag from her cigarette.
12
At eight o'clock Saturday morning I'm at the train station standing on platform three. Eight o'clock! There's just one old lady here sitting on a bench with her shopping bags. I'm carrying my little backpack and a bag full of snacks. The trip takes six hours. That's a long time. In fifteen minutes we get on our first train â the first of five.
I'm happy. Really happy.
The big train station clock ticks, and after sixty seconds the big hand wobbles and moves slowly â unbelievably slowly â one more notch.
At ten after, Laura and Phillip arrive. They're arguing.
“Where have you been?” I ask.
Phillip starts in. “Once again her ladyship here could not walk past the gumball machine.”
Laura shrugs. “We have loads of time!” She looks at me. “Here, hold out your hand.” And she presses a big handful of gumballs into it.
“Did you get the tickets?” I ask Phillip. He holds them up.
“Got them yesterday.”
“You're such a freak,” Laura says.
Then the train arrives and we're finally leaving.
The sun comes out. I have a seat next to the window and I close my eyes.
“I'll bet Mi was a cat in another life,” says Laura. When I open my eyes she's wearing red sunglasses. “In the next life I want to be a cat, too.”
Phillip makes a face.
“You see, Mi,” she says, “people are divided into two groups. Those who like cats and those who like dogs. Just like with tea and coffee, showers and baths.”
“Sweet or salty,” Phillip adds.
“Exactly,” Laura says. “And I think that cats have a better life. For one thing they're pretty. And they have soft fur coats. And besides that they just sleep. And people pat them and otherwise leave them alone. They can spend all their time doing whatever they want.”
Phillip gives her a sarcastic look but says nothing.
“Unlike dogs,” Laura continues, “they don't have to save lives, fetch sticks or lead blind people around. You see, Phil, cats simply have better lives.”
Phillip grins contemptuously and looks out the window again. The landscape is still familiar. We have to change trains again in town.
“Mi was definitely a cat,” Laura says again. “Look at her, Phil. The way she just looked around. That was pure cat! Maybe she'll even purr if you scratch her under the chin!”
“No, she just hums,” he says, and he blows a bubble.
“You also have a cat face, my little kitten,” Laura whispers to me. Then she jumps on Phil and starts to tickle him.
***
“What is it about these gum machines?” I ask Laura when we're standing on the platform at the train station in town.
“Not telling,” she says.
“Gumballs aren't even that good,” I say.
“I know.” She looks at the schedule.
“I'll tell her!” Phillip says suddenly.
“You so won't!” Laura snaps at him.
Phillip pretends to be about to explain, until Laura finally says, “I'll explain it to you another time.” Then she glares at Phillip and adds, “
I
will tell her!”
***
Lunchtime. Fanta, sandwiches. A tunnel and forests.
“Wha...what's your uncle like?” asks Laura with her mouth full.
“He's a music critic. I told you about him. He is very cool. Didn't make a big deal about us coming. Just wanted to know how many of us there were and what we wanted to eat.”
“Great,” says Laura. She takes a swig of Fanta and it drips down her chin and spills on her sweater.
I think about Dennis, Mum and Dad back at home,
about Suse and Ines at school. It all suddenly seems so far away and none of it matters when I think about it because the sight of Laura pushes all these thoughts away. The sight of her face with her damp lips as she smiles at me and then turns and looks out the window again. The sight of her is so sweet, and it hurts and feels good at the same time. I would like to never have to think about anything else ever again.
“So, my dears, now I'm going to sleep for a bit,” Laura says, pulling her jacket up under her chin and leaning against the window.
Whoever came up with this face? This long straight nose with freckles and the green eyes, the straight black eyelashes, the mouth that looks as though someone painted it. So beautiful. She is beautiful, the way she sleeps. And when I tell her something and she listens to me. And when she listens to a new song, and when she's happy. Or sad. Always so beautiful.
I look over at Phillip and he smiles at me and then looks out the window.
Three more hours.
Here comes another tunnel.
13
When we arrive at the train station Phillip pulls a piece of paper out of his pocket.
“So, we have to find the streetcar â number 81. That will take us to Waldschlösschen.”
He looks around. Laura looks around. The sun is still shining, it's cold and this is the first time I've been in this city. It is old and gray and dusty. It's beautiful here. The houses are old and the apartments in them probably have incredibly high ceilings. In our town houses like this would immediately be renovated and painted some weird color so that they wouldn't be gray any more. So that the people who live in the new-old expensive apartments can be happy that they don't live in an old gray house, but in one that's yellow. Or sky blue.