Forums

“Well, we're almost done. The only thing left is the interviews with the new students.”
“What's on the list, Carsten?”
“Twenty-nine students. One is in the graduating class. Twelfth and eleventh each have an addition. Tenth is empty this time. Two have registered in ninth. The same goes for eighth. Seven has one boy and two girls more. There are four in the sixth. Finally, the new fifth class consists of fifteen new students. Does anyone have any suggestions?”
“I'll take the four from the sixth. They're my age, Carsten.”
“Okay, Maria. Ralph, would you please...”
“Hm, the ones from eight and nine? What do you think, Britta, in the team?”
“Sure Ralph, you take the boys and I'll take the girls! That way you won't get any stupid ideas.”
The editorial team present laughed.
Britta and Ralph had been a couple for a few weeks. And it really didn't look like they would be going their separate ways anytime soon. As Ralph Carsten once told Carsten, he had already fallen for her in ninth grade. He had spent a year trying to get her attention. His efforts had now paid off, and the heavens were still full of violins. The fact that they teased each other was probably part of their flirting ritual and was by no means disrespectful. Which, in turn, reminded Carsten that he was still single.
“I don't mind, you two.”
“Okay, I think Michael, Carolin, Thomas and Svenja will take the complete five.”
“I would like to take the three from the seventh! Christiane, Carsten, is that okay?”
“Sure, Michael! Florian, how about you, the five?”
“I don't know.”
“You can do it! I think the others will help you.”
“Good.”
“Carsten, I'll take the high school graduate and Paul, you're in the 11th grade, aren't you?”
“Yes, should I take the one from my class, Christiane?”
“Good idea. Then there's only one left. Carsten?”
“Agreed. What's his name, Christiane?”
“Andreas! Andreas Zahradník. If I pronounced the name correctly.”
“Okay, I'll take it on. The results should be available in two weeks. You can find a selection of interview questions on our server under JHP News. That's it for today.”
“Yes, you've already done a lot for the first issue this week, which is why Carsten and I spoke to Patrick earlier. There is still iced tea, coffee and cake waiting for you in the dining room. And you can get an ice cream in the kitchen.”
The group of students dispersed. The offer was far too tempting in the early summer weather. Christiane, Max and Carsten were the last in the boarding school editorial office. They cared a great deal about the JHP News, the 'student newspaper'. After all, it was their project, which they had started in the previous school year. With a handpicked editorial team, they had created a high-quality newspaper that had also been recognized by the teachers. What more could a young journalist want?
The first edition after the summer vacation was ready. Christiane turned off the Macintoshs. Carsten grabbed his Powerbook and put it in the shoulder bag that came with it. When Max saw that, she got up and joined him. She nudged his left leg with her snout. He stroked her head kindly and grabbed the handle of the dog harness.
Together they went out into the corridor. Christiane locked the door behind her. Their paths parted. Christiane went down to the secretary's office to hand in the disk with the virtual edition for printing. Okay, the director would take a look at it first, but the print release was a mere formality.
Carsten went with Max to his room. There he put the bag down next to his desk. Opened the window. A cool, moist breeze blew into the room. He had missed that it had rained. No matter. The main thing was fresh air. He stood there breathing deeply and listened as his Golden Retriever slurped the water from his water bowl.
“Come on, my little one, let's go for another walk. Agreed?”
Woof!
Carsten put on his running clothes and grabbed the leash for the dog. He removed the handle so that the dog could move more freely. He would only attach the leash outside anyway, since Max usually crouched down as soon as she had found a suitable place for it. On the stairs, she still walked politely next to the boy. On the last landing, he heard the front door open. Max's discipline was over. She stormed out into the open. And then he heard it: the voice.
Maybe just a nuance, but for Carsten it was 'unique'. A pleasant feeling spread through him.
He stopped. Analyzed! His hearing perceived a series of phonetic properties. Carsten couldn't say exactly which region his counterpart came from. He spoke with only a slight dialect. He was sure that it was a boy. It could be one of the new boarding school students arriving that week. He estimated the age to be between sixteen and eighteen years old. Some characteristically low sounds indicated that. The fact that the voice had not yet completely broken was indicated by some uncertain tone fluctuations. The pronunciation itself was clear and calm. Carsten noticed that the emphasis on the syllables radiated self-confidence and had a certain magical effect on him. It seemed as if his counterpart formed every single word before pronouncing it. This question, addressed to him, was constantly repeating itself in his head. It would not let go of him. He was fascinated by this warm voice.
After he slowly realized that he could bring himself to answer, the question was asked again.
Andreas stood with a bag and a backpack packed in front of the portal of the large house. Above the door was the boarding school logo carved in stone. It looked good there. Below it was written in large letters, 'Johann Heinrich Pestalozzi Boarding School'. His home for the next two years. He walked up the wide staircase to the front door. The oak door opened more easily than it might seem. But before he could go in, a dog rushed past him. On the stairs, Andreas was confronted by a boy his age. He had dark blond, slightly wavy, short hair. In the incoming daylight, it seemed to shimmer slightly reddish. His stature gave a sporty impression. Although Andreas wouldn't claim that he was muscular. No, his counterpart seemed rather graceful. And his running clothes suggested that he wanted to go jogging. With his right hand, the boy held on to the banister of the stairs, in the other he held a dog leash. His fingers looked fine and delicate. His face held something mysterious, something that magically fascinated him. His blue eyes held him.
“Hello! Can you tell me how to get to the secretary's office?”
At first, it seemed to Andreas as if the man opposite him had not understood him. So he repeated his question. And this time the man struggled to answer.
“Hello. Yes, turn right from where you are, through the glass door. Then just follow the signs. Have you seen a golden retriever?”
“Thanks! And yes, a specimen just stormed past me and out the door. Should I have stopped it?”
“Faithless soul, that dog. And no, she'll be waiting for me outside.”
Andreas saw a radiant smile on the boy's face and took his statement as not meant so seriously. He turned around and soon saw the signs marked 'Secretariat'. He followed them until he stood in front of the said room. He looked at the door sign, which was at shoulder height. The inscription 'Secretariat' was underlaid with 'dots', and Andreas involuntarily let his fingers glide over it. Then he knocked. It took a while before he was invited to enter. Behind a desk sat an older woman, dressed in a simple, modern suit, working on a computer keyboard.
“You wish?” She asked without looking up from the screen.
“My name is Andreas Zahradník, I should report here.”
This answer prompted her to look up in astonishment and pay attention to him. Then she stood up.
“Oh, I didn't expect you so early, Andreas. Dr. Neubert is still in the school building. He should be back in a quarter of an hour. You'll have to wait a little longer. Please have a seat. Yes? Can I offer you something, cookies or a drink?”
“A Coke, please! I was lucky enough to catch an earlier train.”
“That's good, here you go, your Coke. There are glasses over there if you want to take one. Oh, where did I leave my manners, I'm Ms. Schmitt.”
Andreas looked into a friendly face, gratefully accepted the drink and sat down in the designated, leatherette-covered seating area. On the small table in front of it were brochures of the house and an issue of the JHP News. Andreas took the news, which at second glance turned out to be the boarding school newspaper.
Every now and then he looked over at the typist, who was busy again. She got up and went to a small cupboard. She opened one of the upper drawers, took out a brown-beige folder and went back to her desk. But before that, she gave the drawer a little push, which closed silently. Then he immersed himself in an article about boarding schools. Andreas was thrilled by the presentation. The advertisements and articles looked as if they had been researched and edited by professionals.
Suddenly the door was pushed open and a man with small, metal-rimmed glasses entered spiritedly. Andreas scrutinized the man, who hadn't yet noticed him. He was wearing jeans and a light corduroy jacket with leather pads sewn onto the elbows. The jacket pocket facing him showed white chalk marks. On the whole, Andreas found him likeable.
“Ms. Schmitt, please bring me a cappuccino and the Zahradník file. I think the young man will be arriving this afternoon.”
“The cappuccino will be right there. The file and the boy are here. May I introduce Andreas Zahradník, Dr. Neubert.”
The man turned around and looked over the rim of his glasses at the boy. He approached him and held out his hand. Andreas stood up and returned the greeting. Then the man turned to the secretary.
“Ms. Schmitt, I'll take the file with me in a moment and add biscuits and something to drink for the young man to my cappuccino. Come with me, Andreas, we'll go to my office.”
“Could I please have a latte?”
Ms. Schmitt looked at the boy and nodded. Dr. Neubert went to a leather-covered door, opened it and instructed Andreas to follow him.
“Please sit down. First of all, welcome to the Johann Heinrich Pestalozzi boarding school, Andreas. Ms. Schmitt has already revealed that I am Dr. Neubert. I don't attach much importance to the doctorate, so you can leave that out. I hope you didn't know that I'm going to be your math and physics teacher.”
“Yes, that is new to me. Are you also my class teacher?”
“No. Your class teacher is Mrs. Möller-Klein, and now let me take a quick look at your file.”
The director opened the folder, read for a moment and closed it again. On a small tray, Ms. Schmitt brought in the cappuccino, the latte and the biscuits. She put everything on the table, and the director took his cup. Then he sat down with the boy. Andreas looked calmly at his counterpart. Since the latter made no move to say something, he looked around the room. It really was a study. A large desk with a TFT screen and many files on it, on the wall next to it a shelf with books. Opposite that, a white and a blue bulletin board. There were many colorful magnetic boxes stuck on each one. Andreas didn't notice how the director turned from the file to him. He watched the boy.
“The white board is the timetable and curriculum. The blue one includes the room distribution in the boarding school. I still have every plan on my computer, but I find the large boards clearer. Maybe it's also a silent protest. Who knows?”
“You know it: it's their protest.”
“You're perceptive, Andreas. What makes you say that?”
“If it wasn't, they wouldn't have mentioned it.” ‘They have something against digitization?”
“A little, yes. In my opinion, reducing everything to ’ones‘ and ’zeros' does not correspond to life.”
“You're right there. Life is colorful, not just black and white. And students are not digits that reflect their, let me put it this way, economic value. However, information such as a timetable is concrete and can be reduced to a 'yes' or 'no'. Perhaps they find the pinboards clearer, but that is their personal opinion. Another director may find the PC graphics more advantageous for themselves.”
“Are you sure you're not the teacher and I'm the student?”
“I'm sure of that: I'm the student. A fool is he who claims to be a master.”
“It's fun talking to you, Andreas. But I'm digressing from the topic. I just skimmed through the letter from your former principal again. My colleague paints a good picture of you. And your grades seem okay too. The subject colleagues will still test you, it's all routine. According to the attached reading list, some of the teaching materials differ, so we'll have to wait and see. But now to something completely different. Why do you want to go to boarding school?”
“Since my parents died, my grandparents have taken care of me. Now they can no longer take care of me as they would like to. And I also realized that it was slowly becoming too much for them. That's when the idea of boarding school came up. Your institute was recommended to us by one of my parents' lawyers.”
“Yes, Mr. Johansson spoke with me. He asked me to give you his warmest regards. Moving on. How are you doing with your creativity?”
“I've been dealing with it more badly than well. Subjects like music and art, etc. were canceled in my previous schedule due to a lack of funding and personnel.”
“Good to know, Andreas. It is very important to me that my students actively engage with more than just the curriculum. We offer a variety of courses for this. You are free to choose.”
“Do I have to decide right away?”
“No, take a look around first... maybe you'll develop your own project. It's happened here before. What's important to me is that you use your imagination.”
With these words, he opened the folder again and leafed through it a little. The turning of the pages produced soft, creasing sounds. It seemed to Andreas as if his counterpart was looking for something. He watched Mr. Neubert as he paused for a moment and read.
Meanwhile, Andreas thought about his current situation. Even though he had often talked to teachers, Dr. Neubert took a lot of time for him. Something the boy had never experienced before. He felt respected as a person, not just as a student.
“Mr. Neubert, may I ask you a question?”
“You have already done that, Andreas.”
The pedagogue grinned at him.
“If your question is whether I always make time for my students, my answer is yes. When I look at a picture, I want to recognize it. I hope to learn a little about the painter from it. I see the brushstroke, the colors, sometimes even how the artist had stood in relation to the light. I need time for that. I can only get to know a person if I engage with them. That doesn't work in passing.”
Andreas's answer made sense to him. He was shown trust and was interesting for a teacher. Mr. Neubert was making an effort with him. Should he? He resolved to return the trust placed in him.
“Mr. Neubert, you will surely find out sooner or later anyway. It's better if it comes from me.”
“Yes?”
“At my old school, there were problems because I'm gay.”
Mr. Neubert only looked up briefly from the edge of his glasses. His expression left little room for interpretation for Andreas. Only the corners of his mouth showed a smile.
“Yes, I noticed that, Andreas. Unfortunately, my colleague felt it necessary to inform me of this fact in writing. But of course it doesn't change anything here, my boy. First of all, I'm afraid I can't tell you whether there will be problems. Let's just wait and see. In any case, the teaching staff is trained and, I insist on this, respects every student. I would like to leave it at that. I hope that's okay! It's up to you who you want to tell, but I won't tell anyone. I'll shred the letter after our conversation. On to the next topic. I'm sure you already know what I expect from you: your best in all areas until you graduate. As you have probably already noticed, we have already started here. We usually use the first few days for organizational things in the classes. So you haven't missed much yet. And 'class' is also my cue: you are coming to the twelfth grade. So now let me see again.”
With that, he opened the folder that was still on his lap, took out a sheet of paper and a note with some points on it. Then he stood up. He slid the sheet into a device on his wastebasket, which then devoured the paper with a soft humming sound. Then he went over to the bulletin board.
“I know, now I'll show you a little of the boarding school and your room. I'll have your school documents brought to your new room. Tell me, do you have an allergy?”
“Fortunately not. Why do you ask?”
“We have some residents who have animals in their rooms. An allergy to animal hair, for example, would not be very beneficial. And that's exactly the case. Your roommate has a roommate like that. I hope that doesn't bother you.”
The director took a tile from the blue board and repositioned it. That must have been Andreas' magnet.
“I don't mind if there are hamsters or parakeets in the room.”
“Good, I'm glad. Do you have any luggage?”
“A suitcase and a backpack, they are still in the anteroom. And in the next few days I expect more large pieces of luggage. It was just too much for me to take everything with me. So I hired a courier service to do it.”
“That was certainly a wise decision. They arrived today already, I'll tell the caretaker where to put them.”
Mr. Neubert opened the door and both went back to the secretary's office one after the other.
Here the director gave instructions as to which room the luggage should be brought to. The same applied to the remaining documents.
Then they set off on the tour. For the next hour and a half, Andreas was shown around the boarding school complex. There was already a lot to see. They started with the main building. The administration, kitchen and dining room were located on the ground floor. In another part of the building, which the pedagogue called the east wing, they found social rooms, smaller group rooms and two music rooms.
In addition, some teachers were housed here on the third floor. Nevertheless, the majority lived in the surrounding area. In the south wing and in the west wing, the students were housed separately according to gender.
Then they went out. In between, the pedagogue explained something about the boarding school and its namesake to the boy.
“In his time, Mr. Pestalozzi advocated the education of the general public. You can imagine that this endeavor at the beginning of the 18th century was not without problems with the upper class. In his, I would like to put it this way, boarding school, he taught theory, in addition to manual work. We have a similar approach here at the boarding school, which is why we have named ourselves after him. The main focus is of course on theoretical training. The 'manual' practice is to be replaced by creative activities here. And here too, we are not aiming for economic efficiency, as was necessary in Pestalozzi's time.”
Andreas had quickly gained the impression that Dr. Neubert was keen to know who this 'Johann Heinrich Pestalozzi' was. During the conversation they went back to the main building. On the way they looked at the somewhat neglected school garden, including a small greenhouse and a small house that belonged to the institute. It seemed to be of (sporting) advantage to have an own dock at a large lake.
After that, they strolled to Andreas' new accommodation. 'Andreas Zahradník' was written on the nameplate below 'Carsten von Feldbach'. And again, the surface was not flat, but underlaid with dots. As it turned out, the caretaker had already done his duty. Luggage and two boxes with his name were already there. The director noted this with satisfaction.
Andreas looked around the room. It didn't quite match his idea of a boarding school room. Each side of the room was a generously furnished youth room. The bed and wardrobe were arranged on the corridor side. Next to it was a shelf unit. The desk was placed under a small sloping ceiling by a window, of which there were three in total. In the middle was a small round table with two chairs. Next to the entrance door was a bathroom unit with a bulletin board on the outside. There was a water bowl under the sink.
“Do you like it, Andreas?”
“Yes, it's really comfortable here.”
“What did you think it would be, a monk's cell?”
“Something like that... No, but it looks so big and really friendly. It's certainly bigger than mine at my grandma and grandpa's.”
“This is one of the largest, because Max – Carsten's dog – also has to be accommodated here. But basically all the rooms here are generously proportioned. Make yourself comfortable as you like, you should feel at home here. The only thing you can't do is move the cupboard, it's attached to the wall. See you tomorrow afternoon at school.”
With that, the director left the boy alone in his new room. Andreas took his luggage and threw it on the free bed. Then he went over to his desk, leaned forward and opened the window. He then opened the one in the middle. Carsten had his tilted. A good choice in this changeable weather. He stood by the open window for a moment and looked out. Next to Carsten's window was a large spruce that reached up to the window. The view from the middle window looked out onto a forest bordering the institute. A light fog had settled over it due to the rain. Andreas listened, but didn't hear much besides the sounds of the forest. He took a deep reflex breath. The air tasted fresh and moist. After a few minutes, he turned around again. He looked at Carsten's side. He found it a bit modest, with no posters or anything on the walls. There were a few worn items next to his bed. And – in his opinion – unsuccessful clay works. In addition, a larger rectangular digital alarm clock. A device that didn't quite fit Andreas' idea of a teenager. Even modern clock radios have a better design. This one, however, looked like a brick. That was about all the decoration. On the other hand, his roommate had a great hi-fi system and a rather elegant keyboard was standing in a corner. It seemed that someone was musical. Andreas went to his bed and started putting his clothes in the closet. He put a set of bed linen – with a cartoon character design – at the head of the bed. Hopefully Carsten wouldn't mind, since his bed was covered with a plain blue set. If he made fun of it, he didn't care. He put the rest in the closet as well. Then he took the box with the school documents. At the top was a copy of the house rules, with a small key attached to it with adhesive tape. He threw it carelessly on the desk. He put the books on the shelf for now. Some of them even looked familiar to him. So it seemed that some things transcend national borders. After the box was empty, he put it with the suitcase next to the door. The second box contained sweat shirts and T-shirts in royal blue. A note informed him that these were the official school clothes. A 'suit' would follow in the coming days. To do that, he had to report to the secretary's office again. These, too, quickly disappeared into the closet.
The last thing he opened was the backpack, and on top was the family picture. His parents, grandparents, and him in the middle. He took it and held it for a few moments. His expression became sad, then he placed it on a console next to the bed.
He put a towel on the wash niche and his washing things in a small open shelf above the wash basin. The boy noticed that Carsten must be a very fussy person. In the shelf, which Carsten occupied, everything lay neatly next to each other. As if you could take the things out with closed eyes. A look at his desk confirmed it. Not a sheet of paper or a writing instrument lying around spoiled its surface.
Andreas sincerely hoped that Carsten would tolerate his own clutter. Otherwise it could be a difficult year.
He put the cardboard tube with the few posters on the table. He put his laptop, a gift from his grandmother, next to the desk. He had to ask Carsten if there was internet. He had already spotted a network socket with a plug in it. Then he put some game CDs on the shelf. His own books were in the courier package, which was still untouched in the corner. He also placed his alarm clock on the console. Finally, he made the bed. Now it looked more homely. He looked again at the other side of the room. Carsten's half looked as if a blind man had to find his way around in it. Only a small blanket didn't quite fit into this arrangement. It lay crumpled on the floor between the shelf and the desk. His roommate hadn't really kept his eyes open there.
Then he went to the individual light switches. The room light came on. The lighting above the washbasins also worked. The small halogen desk lamp failed to work. He picked up the lamp and tried another socket, but it still didn't work. What a way to start the day! But never mind, tomorrow is another day. Andreas put the lamp back on the table. A light breeze from the forest blew in through the open window. He lay down on his bed and it wasn't long before he fell asleep.
A draft of air brushed over Andreas' hair and woke him up. He looked around disoriented. Then he realized that he was in the boarding school, in his new room. Carsten sat at his desk with his back to him and typed something on the keyboard of his laptop. Then he slid his fingers over a small panel. The Braille characters passed under his fingers as if on a conveyor belt and he read.
He was not disturbed by a noise from the other side of the room. His new roommate seems to have escaped Morpheus' arms again. However, when Andreas greeted him, his concentration was gone.
Carsten recognized the voice from the stairwell. He was pleased on the inside, but he had to get to know his new roommate first. What did he get out of the fact that the new guy had a wonderful voice but an unpleasant character?
“Hello Carsten! What are you doing?”
“Hello! I'm reading, did I wake you up?”
“No, I didn't even hear you come into the room. Have you been here long?”
“We're just a quiet bunch. And yes, we've been back for a while. When I came into the room earlier, you didn't hear me. I didn't want to wake you, so we went downstairs to play the piano.”
We? Just at that moment, a golden retriever looked over the edge of the bed directly into Andreas's face. Such a big dog's face, just ten centimeters from one's nose, can be quite intimidating. He was not prepared for it. A small scream left his throat.
“Max, heel!”
The dog turned around and trotted over to her master. She nudged his leg with her nose and was patted on the head. Carsten turned around, along with his chair. Andreas was speechless. It was the boy from the stairs sitting in front of him.
“Good Max. I hope she didn't scare you.”
“A little bit, yes. Does she bite?”
“No, she likes people and is – let's put it this way – a little curious? So you're Andreas, my new roommate!”
“How did you know?”
“Neubert informed me earlier; I met him on the way to the music room. Besides, your name has been on the doorplate since the beginning of the week.”
“Tell me, Carsten, what I noticed earlier. Are you a cleanliness fanatic?”
“What makes you say that?”
“Well, everything looks so tidy and neat in your room. Only the dog blanket is crumpled! Didn't you notice?”
Just then he noticed that Carsten was only looking in his direction. He wasn't looking directly at him, though. His bright blue eyes were anything but uninteresting. He continued to watch as Carsten reached for his wrist and opened his watch. His fingers traced the dial. Andreas had a strange feeling. He straightened up. Carsten didn't react to this movement.
“No, I didn't see it. And even if I had, Max must feel comfortable with it, not me. She likes it rumpled, so it should stay that way. But your question is aimed at something else. I don't have a cleaning tic. It serves its purpose and I hope you can live with it. Even more than that. You would have to get used to not letting anything stand in the way. I'm blind.”
“Oh, I didn't know...”
“Then no one has told you, how could you have found out?”
“Yes, but the director, he could have said something!”
“He takes me as I am. For everyone here, having a blind student among them is nothing special. Besides me, there are others in the lower grades. But you could have easily figured it out yourself. Just look around. You won't find any pictures or anything like that on my side. And the arrangement of the furniture is also not typical for someone who can see! Even my alarm clock looks more like a brick than an electrical appliance.”
Andreas laughed out loud.
“What's the matter? Did I say something funny or is Max making a fool of himself?”
“Neither. Earlier, when I looked at your half, it occurred to me that your watch looks like a brick. No offense. As for the missing posters, it's a matter of taste whether or not to hang them. Your keyboard and your stereo don't suggest a blind person either. But you're right, there are missing objects and things that others have around them.”
“Then it's all right. I thought everything was normal here. Take me as I am. And Andreas!”
“Yes?”
“No pity.”
“I'll take care of that Carsten. But now it makes sense why the door signs are all underlaid with braille. I was already wondering!”
“Different topic. Are you hungry? It's seven past and dinner time.”
“Yes, I'm hungry and food is always a good idea.”
“Then you're exactly the right person for this room. We rarely say no to food either.”
Andreas got up, went over to the sink and washed his face. Watched by the dog, he dried himself. Carsten turned back to his laptop.
“Carsten, have I understood this correctly, Max is a 'she'?”
“Yes, why?”
“Well, Max is anything but a female name!”
“It's actually just an abbreviation of 'Maxime von Arco'. She just didn't like Maxime. She just didn't listen to that name. Isn't that right, my little one?”
With that, he stroked her flank again. Then the boy closed his Powerbook.
The boys headed for the dining room. While Carsten held on to the railing, the female dog walked alongside them. On the way, they met Christiane. Carsten introduced the two of them and they continued on.
Andreas looked around the dining room. The tables were arranged in groups and rows. Most of the tables were already occupied. In the food counter, some sample plates with dishes were displayed. Since everything was in a glass case, a waiter stood behind the counter and offered help.
“I'll have the three tonight. Fried potatoes with scrambled eggs and cucumber. For dessert, a vanilla pudding and an apple spritzer. And the usual for Max.”
“Which table are you sitting at, Carsten?”
“As always at table three, Inge! Here's my food card.”
“Okay, it'll be right up.”
“Good choice Carsten, but I'll stick with a salad. For dessert, I'll have a fruit quark. And a spritzer too.”
Christiane received what she wanted and placed it on her tray. The waitress looked over at Andreas.
“Can you recommend something?”
“Daniel and Patrik, our chefs, are really good, so you can choose whatever you like.”
“Thank you, Christiane.”
“I'll have the farmer's breakfast and a vanilla cream with it. Do you also have malt beer?”
“Yes, here you go.”
He went on to the checkout after receiving everything.
“Christiane?”
“Yes, what is it?”
“I don't have any money with me!”
“You don't need any, you have your chip card!”
“No, I don't.”
Meanwhile, the girl received her card back. The cashier looked at Andreas.
“Your card, please!”
“I don't have one, how much is it?”
The 'cashier' shook his head and smiled. The young man opened a drawer and took out a list.
“What is your name?”
“Andreas Zahradník”
“You arrived today, Andreas?”
“Yes!”
“What's your room number?”
“III - 3 - 16!”
His finger slid over the list, stopped and slid down a line. He typed a few digits into the cash register. Then he nodded.
“All right, you'll get your meal ticket here tomorrow at breakfast. Enjoy your meal, Andreas.”
The cashier went on to the next customer. Andreas followed Christiane to the table where Carsten and some of his new classmates were already waiting for her. The greeting was still restrained. Shortly thereafter, Carsten's meal was brought, along with the bowl of dog food. Max was already wagging her tail eagerly.
“Carsten: Ten o'clock, six, and five past two!”
“Thank you.”
“What was that about?”
“My food, where I can find it, Andreas. Imagine the plate as the face of a clock. At ten o'clock I find the fried potatoes, at twelve o'clock the scrambled eggs and at six o'clock the cucumber. The apple spritzer is at two o'clock and the pudding at one o'clock.”
Dinner dragged on. The atmosphere relaxed. Ralph told a joke and everyone laughed. Andreas asked some questions and his new classmates tried to answer him, but also wanted to know some things from him. Even if he went a little too far here and there, he was a very pleasant person on the whole. Carsten was pleased that everyone got along well. There was no question in his mind that he liked the boy, who was still unknown to him. Britta said goodbye after the meal and left with Ralph. Max stood next to Carsten, he took the handle. Then they went out into the garden. Carsten wanted to take the dog for a walk and Andreas joined him. The boys disappeared into the forest.
A padding sound woke Andreas even before the alarm clock. When he turned around and looked around, he saw Carsten's empty bed. Max was standing at their water bowl and slobbering. Andreas pushed the blanket aside and got up. It wouldn't have made sense for him to continue sleeping anyway. Then he went to his desk, leaned forward, and opened the window. A bit cumbersome, another solution was needed. The easiest thing would be to put the desks together. But would Carsten agree to that?
Observed by puppy-dog eyes, he went to his closet, took a bath towel and grabbed his washing utensils. Then he went out into the corridor. On the way, he noticed the bustle in the hallway. He hadn't realized that there were so many teenagers here. There were two rooms with sanitary facilities in the hallway. First he visited the toilet, then the washroom with the showers.
Half an hour later he entered his room again. Carsten was standing at his desk putting some things into his school bag. He was wearing one of those royal blue T-shirts and denim shorts. Carsten looked really sexy in them. But Andreas kept that to himself.
“Good morning, Andreas. Did you sleep well?”
“Good morning. Yes, thank you for asking!”
“I have to take Max out, will I see you for breakfast?”
“Yes, oh, that reminds me, do I have to wear the school uniform?”
“Yep, on ordinary days a T-shirt, sweatshirt or shirt and jeans are fine. On special days and official appointments, you wear the boarding school uniform.”
“Uniform?”
“Yes, a blazer with the school crest, shirt, tie or necktie, and dark trousers. Finished off with black loafers.”
“I thought uniforms were out? And how do you know that?”
“It makes sense. We are a not cheap boarding school, so many students are from rich and wealthy families. On the other hand, there are scholarship holders for whom material things are not so abundant. The clothing is a start to not judge students by their background. Well, it's time, Max is getting impatient and breakfast is served until a quarter to nine. See you soon. Oh, and before I forget: I can read Andreas.”
Max and Carsten left the room. Andreas went over to the cupboard, took one of the shirts and put it on. It didn't look too bad, and the small logo of the boarding school looked good on it. He quickly finished putting the rest of his clothes on and went down to the dining room. Carsten, Christiane and some of his classmates were sitting at one of the long rows of tables. Andreas got the essentials. At the checkout, he received his Mensacard and sat down with the others. His classmates weren't particularly lively either. But everyone managed to say “good morning” or “hello”. Only Christiane and Carsten were not grumpy in the morning. They talked animatedly about an upcoming anniversary. He was busy with his breakfast and lost himself in thought.
“And Andreas, do you already know what you're going to do?”
“Christiane, it seems to me that Andreas is still in another sphere.”
“Hm, excuse me?”
“We wanted to know what you would like to do today after class?”
“After class, I would like to take a closer look at the editorial office and the newspaper.”
“Yes, come around five, and I'll show you around. We're always short-staffed, aren't we Carsten?”
“That's right, and a fresh mind is always good. Chris will answer all your questions. She's competent.”
“Aren't you there, Carsten?”
Andreas regretted this spontaneous question. But it seemed to have gone unnoticed by everyone present. And Carsten answered in his infectiously cheerful manner.
“You won't miss me, Andreas. No, this afternoon I have piano lessons. After that, I go to swimming training. After lunch, I won't see you again until dinner. And one more thing about earlier. I don't know colors. Nor do I know the characteristics 'light' or 'dark'. The fact that I rarely go wrong with my clothes is because Mom marked them accordingly.”
A gong sounded in the middle of the conversation. This was the signal to finish breakfast. Chairs were pushed and many of those present got up. The blue snake at the tray delivery grew. But to Andreas it all looked neat and orderly. As a matter of course, Christiane took Carstens' tray. She put Max's empty bowl on top and joined the queue. Britta and Andreas followed her. Together they went over to the teaching complex.
The school building dated from the Wilhelminian period. The facade had been renovated and looked anything but unfriendly to Andreas. The same applied to his classroom. As the director had explained to him the day before, each grade level had its own room. Everything except the natural sciences was taught in them. There were separate laboratories and lecture halls for these units. The classroom itself was characterized by multimedia equipment, including a projector and such devices. A classic blackboard was the only thing that indicated that it was really a classroom.
The student desks, in the style of the nineteenth century, were on the one hand 'normal' tables with a fold-up tabletop that was wonderful to write on. However, state-of-the-art equipment was hidden underneath. The underside of the tabletop housed a TFT monitor. In the compartment itself was a keyboard and various connections; Andreas couldn't find a PC or anything like that, though.
“If you're looking for the computer, you won't find it here, Andreas.”
“So this is just a terminal, Christiane?”
“You've guessed it. The computer center is located elsewhere. Each class has its own high-performance computer there. And to make sure everything works, there's an administrator.”
“Do we work on it a lot?”
“It's pretty balanced. Some days we don't need it at all and then there are days when you're glad to close the desk. Only Carsten always works with it. The data is processed in a blind-friendly way for him and he can load his notes onto his Powerbook.”
“So where is my place?”
“We still have two free desks. The one above and the one by the window. Choose one.”
“I like the one by the window better.”
“Then that's how it will be. This is your desk until the end of the school year.”
The teacher entering the room silenced the conversations. Everyone took their seats. Carsten sat down next to Andreas and Max snuck into the back of her seat. It would have been too cramped for the animal between the desks. Andreas looked around for a moment. As I said, Carsten was sitting next to him. Christiane, Britta and Ralph were further forward.
“Good morning.”
“Good morning, Ms. Möller-Klein.”
“As you may have noticed, we have a new student. Andreas Zahradník. I think you have already introduced yourselves a little. If not, you should do so. I will refrain from introducing myself again. Andreas, officially: Welcome to my class. Furthermore, Ms. Schmitt asked me to tell you that you may report to the secretary's office. Now, I would like to continue with the lesson...”
Andreas quickly realized that not all lessons are the same. The time until the break went by very entertainingly, although the topic of 'religions' didn't necessarily appeal to Andreas. In the following unit, technology was used. A projector and terminals made the history lesson really exciting. The American War of Independence was covered in ninety minutes. From the reasons for its origin to the signing of the Peace of Paris, there was no lack of information. Presented in graphics, animation videos and so on. Mr. Gabriel also informed Andreas that he could access all the teaching materials via the intranet. The third unit was about the English language. Here Andreas scored points with the teacher. He had a penchant for languages. Whether it was because his parents were multilingual themselves, he couldn't say. He just enjoyed being able to communicate in other languages.
In the meantime, he looked around at Carsten. He cared a lot about what he thought of himself. Carsten looked very satisfied. Which Andreas could not say about every one of his classmates. Some of them looked tortured. During the lunch break, he addressed the topic.
“You're setting new standards, Andreas. Some of us will probably have to study a little harder.”
“I don't want to, Christiane.”
“Too late. But don't worry about it. It's always good to bring a breath of fresh air into the classroom. Britta is ultra-fit in biology, what do you think happened? The class average went up by one point. Besides, anyone who heard you speak will have noticed that you just enjoy it. You've just got a talent for it.”
“I hope you'll help me, I'm not doing so well in English. What I'm curious about now is whether you speak any other languages?”
“Yes, Carsten, Italian, Czech and French. The first ones are the respective mother tongues of my parents. Mom grew up in Italy and Dad in what was then Czechoslovakia. They always spoke German to me. Nevertheless, I was already able to speak these three languages in kindergarten.”
“That opens up possibilities!”
“Sure, Christiane. Rant in Italian or Czech. If someone doesn't understand it, they might think you're paying them a compliment.”
Laughing, the group broke up. Carsten and Max left while the others went back to the classrooms. On the way, Britta explained to Andreas that Carsten was exempt from joint science classes. It wasn't that he didn't have chemistry, physics or biology. No, he was taught by special teaching staff here. It would have been a bit too dangerous for him in class during experiments and practical work. And the class accepted this measure.
Andreas also quickly realized that a different tone was set here. At his old school, the teacher would scold him when something went wrong during an experiment. Here, he almost got the impression that the teacher apologized for it. Above all, the boy was impressed by the help offered by the teacher.
After class, Andreas went to the administration office. Ms. Schmitt handed him the rest of the school clothes, after trying them on. In response to Andreas's request for a halogen bulb, she gave him two more incandescent bulbs. He then went back to his room.
In the late afternoon, Andreas knocked on the door of the editorial office. Christiane invited him in and greeted him. In the following minutes, he was shown around the editorial office. For example, there was a “conference room” equipped with a large round table. On its surface, some 'drink marks' could still be seen. Then they went to the darkroom.
“Isn't it a bit old-fashioned in the age of digital photography?”
“We don't need the lab that often for the newspaper anymore. Digital photography has largely replaced film for that. But if you still want to develop film and photos yourself, the lab is available. I, for example, like to take black and white photos. Developing them in a commercial lab costs a fortune and the results leave something to be desired. I prefer to do it myself here.”
“Good to know, I still have an SLR camera with film.”
“Great, then hopefully I won't be the only one using this room. Come on.”
With that, they left the room again and now turned to the heart of the editorial office: the actual workroom. Equipped with several computers for research, there was still a 'big' Macintosh available for the layout.
“Have you already thought about what you would like to do?”
“I would like to help with the layout.”
“Great. Do you already know the graphics program Leonardo IV?”
“No!”
“Come, I'll show you using the example of the last issue.”
Andreas was quite amazed at how Christiane handled the computer. Based on various settings, Andreas could see how the layout of the JHP News developed. He also tried his hand at it. The results were anything but skillful. Nevertheless, the boy did not let himself be intimidated. On the contrary, Christiane found it interesting. It seemed that Andreas had a graphical understanding.
“How did the newspaper come about?”
“The JHP News itself has been around for several years. It has just been somewhat neglected over time. Last year, Carsten and I drew up a new concept together. Mr. Neubert only approved it if we set up an editorial team in which all classes were represented. We stuck to that. Carsten is responsible for the content of the newspaper, I'm responsible for the layout.”
“And is there censorship? There was something like that at the school magazine of my old school. The headmaster basically 'reworked' the articles with a black felt-tip pen.”
“Our newspaper is not really a school magazine in that sense, but an institute magazine. With it, we present the boarding school. And yes, there is a kind of censorship. Carsten reads every article and every ad. But he doesn't change anything. On the contrary, he sits down with the respective author if his article is 'offensive'. I would like to have his patience sometimes. If he has to, he reserves the right not to publish the text in the newspaper at all. But, Andreas, he discusses that with me and Dr. Neubert beforehand. That's what we're editors-in-chief for, and we stick our necks out for it.”
“Critical articles and information?”
“We always welcome critical articles and information. No matter whether it is positive or negative criticism and from which camp it comes. We attach great importance to the fact that everyone has the right to express their opinion as long as it is not offensive and unobjective.”
“Do the people here also have special areas?”
“Yes, there are two sports journalists, a team that compiles information on the subject of economics, and one for gossip and culture. Features and current reports are handled by different students. Categories such as letters to the editor, humor and entertainment are covered by everyone at some point. Even our graphic designers have to pitch in. Our two chefs are responsible for the menu, recipes, etc. Ms. Schmitt communicates changes in everyday boarding school life, events and excursions. You could say the entire boarding school is involved in the newspaper.”
“How big is the team?”
“Including the students, we should be a total of twenty. Six are assigned to layout, the rest take care of the texts. Of these, two are in turn responsible for bringing the texts into a uniform print format. This makes our work as graphic designers much easier.”
“And how does Carsten manage to read all the texts?”
“A so-called Braille display is installed on his Powerbook, as well as on one of the local computers. That thing where his fingers move over it. The data is transferred to it. We also tried a speech program once, but Carsten prefers to read himself. By the way, he reads very fast and the lines change under his fingers accordingly. He needs three days for the texts of an edition, including correction. The editorial meeting is once a week. That's when he addresses these things.”
“And you two hold the threads in your hands?”
“If you look at it that way, yes.”
Andreas was a little startled because the answer came from Carsten, who was standing behind them. Even Christiane flinched. Then she stood up, went over to Carsten, gave him a warm hug and greeted him warmly. At that moment Andreas felt a sharp pain; the sight hurt him.
“Man, you always like to sneak up on people?”
“Not really, Andreas. It's not my fault you two are so absorbed in your conversation that you don't notice your surroundings. I wanted to ask if it's going to take much longer; it's almost supper time.”
“What do you mean? I completely lost track of time! No, we're wrapping it up here. Unless there's something else, Andreas?”
“I think I now know what I'm letting myself in for with your troop.”
“Does that mean you'll join us?”
“Of course.”
“Then welcome to the JHP editorial team.”
Christiane turned off the computer and her team scurried out into the corridor. Then she locked up.
The cafeteria was busy, but not as busy as at lunchtime. This was probably because supper was served an hour later.
The three of them sat down at a small table after they had procured the necessities. This time Andreas tried to locate food.
“Casserole: Two o'clock, side dish nine. Dessert seven and spritzer eight.”
“Almost, Andreas. You can't see the imaginary clock from your point of view, but from mine.”
“How do you know that again?”
“No matter which waiter brings me the food, the dessert is always on one and my drink always on two. Never on seven and eight.”
“Sorry!”
“You don't have to apologize. Tomorrow you'll get it right, it's just a matter of practice. Enjoy your meal, guys.”
“And how was your day, Carsten?”
“Modest, Christiane. I have aching muscles from training. It's taking its toll that I didn't swim as much during the holidays. And Mr. Kramer presented me with my music program.”
“Am I right in assuming that you are talking about the music teacher?”
“No, Andreas. Mr. Kramer is my piano teacher. Mr. Walz is responsible for music lessons at the boarding school. If you ever see a absent-minded professor, there is a high probability that it is Mr. Kramer. But don't underestimate him! When it comes to music, no one can fool him. Anyway, I have a lot to do this semester.”
“What are they?”
“For one thing, I'm supposed to give the anniversary concert together with the JHP student orchestra. That's been discussed with Walz. Then there's a separate piano recital in January or February. I'm supposed to organize that myself. And because that's not enough, he's given me an audio recording with an orchestral recording. The professor wants me to use it to rehearse Mendelssohn's piano concerto in E major for two pianos and orchestra. But only the first piano part. Michael, the class representative of seven, has written me an email. He asks if I would be willing to take over the musical direction of a Christmas musical. I've already accepted. He's doing the choreography himself and it'll certainly be fun to work with him and class seven.”
“That's a tall order, to say the least, Carsten. Why do you have to do it? Isn't there another student? And how are you going to manage it all?”
“That's three questions at once! First of all, because music is my major subject and I love making music. Secondly, there are other students who have music as a major subject and they have to do the same kind of work. I'm just saying: orchestra! Andreas. Thirdly, it sounds worse than it really is. We already gave the concert last fall, so we only need a few rehearsals. Incidentally, this is the principal's idea. There is also a template for the musical. I'll meet with Michael in the next few days. He invited me and Mr. Kramer to a meeting. The piano recital is the challenge. The program should cover the areas from classical to modern. I honestly have no idea what I should do.”
“I'm confident that you'll come up with something, Carsten. But you already know the Mendelssohn!”
“You're right, Britta, I know the piano score. It depends on the interpretation of the orchestra. The Berlin Philharmonic put different accents than, for example, the Boston Symphony Orchestra. I think that's what Mr. Kramer is aiming for. So, guys, I want to take Max for a walk. I've neglected her a bit today. I'd like to make up for it. Please excuse me, okay?”
The empty plates and the dog bowl had been on the trays for a while. Carsten rose and the group broke up. While one of them went out with the dog, the others met at Ralph's for an evening of games. Andreas had enjoyed playing with some of the class. It was just a shame that Carsten wasn't there. Since it was already quite late, he quietly opened the door to his room.
“Oops, Carsten, you're still up.”
“Yeah, I don't know. I feel exhausted and yet I can't get the necessary rest. Besides, my muscles are sore. I wish my mother were here to massage me.”
“If you want, I could massage you. I don't have much experience with it...”
“I'll gladly accept the offer.”
“Then just fling yourself on your bed. I'll go to the washroom first.”
“Do that, see you in a bit!”
Andreas disappeared from the room and Carsten switched off his Powerbook. Then he lay down on his bed. Andreas came back. Carsten took off his top. Andreas sat down on the edge of the bed next to Carsten and began the massage. His hands glided over the boy's back and felt the tension. After a while, Andreas noticed how Carsten relaxed. So he seemed to be doing just the right thing.
“Is that good?”
“Yes, Andreas. It feels good. You and no experience, may I laugh?”
Andreas smiled to himself. Carsten felt that pleasant feeling in his stomach again. It confused him. Still, the tiredness of the day slowly gained the upper hand and he fell asleep.
Andreas noticed that his roommate had fallen asleep. He got up carefully and covered Carsten. There was a pretty smile on his face. He got dressed himself, looked over at Max one more time, who was blissfully asleep in her spot. He turned off the light and it wasn't long before he fell asleep himself.
In the following days, the boys spent a lot of time together. Andreas' suggestion to rearrange the desks was well received by Carsten. Especially since a small side effect was that not only Max's corner became more spacious. Carsten had concerns at first. Because whenever they sat at the desk together, Andreas had to look at him. But the boy dispelled his doubts. Since moving in, he had been keen on spreading greenery around the room. There were always some flowers on the desk, which the boy took from the garden. He distributed plants in the corners and on the shelves. Carsten didn't see them, but he felt their presence. And Max? She sniffed at them once, after which they were of no interest to her. Andreas was quickly accepted in class. The girls raved about the 'new guy', if only because of his appearance. They described Andreas as a 'southerner'. By this they meant the brown-olive color of his skin and his dark hair. Despite his striking facial features, he looked rather boyish. What didn't quite match were his gray-green eyes. They gave him something 'magical and mysterious'. So far it had remained with starry-eyed looks and softly sighing voices. Andreas welcomed this, but he still didn't feel entirely comfortable in his own skin. While studying with Carsten, he casually brought it up.
“Do you actually know what the girls in the house are saying?”
“No, Carsten. I've noticed that people are whispering behind my back. But I don't know what they're saying. Do you know more?”
“I think so, Andreas. First of all, you attract the attention of the female students. But more importantly, there's a rumor going around that you're already taken!”
“How did they come up with that?”
“It's simple: you don't let any of the fairer sex get close to you. You are friendly but distant in conversation with them. You don't spend a minute more than necessary with them. You are a mystery to them, waiting to be solved. Only with Christiane and Britta do you thaw out. You joke with them and act completely relaxed. I've noticed that too.”
“Well, I spend a lot of time with Christiane in the editorial office. She shows no further ambitions other than friendly interest. Britta is in Ralph's firm hands, I hope. Especially since he made it clear to me in a quiet moment.”
“Yes, I think so too. By the way, Christiane has a boyfriend in the village. The son of the ice cream parlor owner.”
“Oh, I thought it was you and her!”
“No! There was a time when she showed interest in yours truly. But I lacked that certain something. The way I am, I told her straight out. The consequence was that she fled to the ice cream parlor and grabbed the ice cream seller. Since then, we've been best friends. What makes you think that?”
“Well, you always greet each other so warmly.”
“Oh, that's a relic. She once had serious problems with her boyfriend. She poured her heart out to me, I guess she needed someone she could tell everything to. Anyway, in the end I just gave her a big hug. Since then we've been doing it that way, there's nothing more to it.”
“Maybe I'm being a bit indiscreet now, but do you have a girlfriend?”
“No Andreas, no girlfriend. I'm still available!”
“Why is that? You look good, you're charming, intelligent, musical and have a sense of humor. They should be beating down your door.”
“I'm blind, that's a deterrent. Who wants a 'disabled' friend? In return, why are you being reserved?”
Carsten realized that he probably shouldn't have asked that question. Andreas, it seemed to him, held his breath for a moment. He feverishly considered how he could elegantly circumvent the now uncomfortable situation. Max suddenly stood next to him and made a move to get out.
“Sorry, Andreas, to interrupt, Max needs to take a turn. I'll quickly take her outside. After that, we can continue our conversation. Yes?”
“Yes. All right.”
Carsten got up, took his white cane and went out with Max. He couldn't tell whether she really had to go or not. But he had the feeling that he had touched Andreas on a sore spot. Instinctively, Max sensed the tense situation between the boys and did what a good guide dog does: he relaxed the situation. Carsten took her down to the lake. There he let her run around. He sat down on one of the benches and thought about Andreas.
Why did it hurt him when Andreas hesitated just now? Didn't he trust him? He felt his vulnerability in that moment. How did he feel about this boy himself? Many questions shot through his mind and the answers failed to materialize. Carsten decided to leave it be for the time being. When Andreas was ready, he would probably let him in on it. Friends give each other that time. Carsten noticed Max jumping onto the bench next to him. She lay down and put her head on Carsten's lap. The boy was only too happy to oblige and calmly scratched behind her ears.
Andreas saw Carsten sitting with Max at the lake from the corridor window. He looked pensive and sad. Why had he hesitated? Hadn't Carsten answered his question honestly? Had it not painfully pierced him when he mentioned his blindness?
Yes, he was afraid. Afraid that Carsten would avoid him if he found out he was gay. Even more, that he had fallen in love with him. Andreas began to hate himself for his lack of courage. Why did everything have to be so complicated?
“Hello Andreas, do you know where Carsten is?”
“Yes, he's down by the lake with Max, Christiane.”
“They both look peaceful, don't you think?”
“Yes, they look peaceful, a dream team.”
“That's right. They are a true symbiosis. Carsten can rely on their abilities. And especially because Max gained his trust in no time.”
“What do you mean?”
“Their predecessor had problems and Carsten found it difficult to let him go. For some time he felt completely insecure. Then two years ago, their training as a guide dog for the blind was completed. Max moved in with him during the summer vacation. In just six weeks, she learned what was important to Carsten. Even more, she instinctively guided him safely through these halls. Although Max had never been here before. She made him feel safe. He was his happy, happy self again. There was an invisible bond between him and Max. If you ask me, they communicate in a way that remains a mystery to me. And the way they're sitting there, they're talking to each other. I'd only be in the way. Just tell him I'm waiting for him at the office. Yes? Thanks, Andreas.”
With these words she disappeared again. Andreas looked down for a moment longer. He saw Max raise her head and turn to him.
“Thank you, Max. What do you think, should we go back up or play the piano a little more first?”
Woof!
“Let's play some more music.”
Carsten stood up. With his cane, he felt his way to the music room in the east wing. Max obediently followed him.
While he settled down at his piano, Max made himself comfortable next to the door. Carsten began with his finger exercises. He played a few etudes to warm up. Then he started with whatever came to mind. In the meantime, he heard someone enter the room.
“Là ci darem la mano – Give me your hand, my life.”
“Christiane, how do you know that?”
“Clever guy, don't I also have music lessons? It's an aria from Don Giovanni.”
“Yes, but we haven't covered Mozart's opera yet.”
“Man Carsten, you're a walking hard drive. It's Mario's favorite piece. He sometimes sings it to me when I'm sad. It always cheers me up and tells me that he loves me. Are you sad?”
“I'm thoughtful! These variations by Beethoven on the Mozart theme help me approach a matter from different angles.”
“Would you like to share your thoughts with me?”
“Maybe that's a good idea.”
A quiet noise made Christiane look over at Max.
The dog looked at Carsten. Then she crawled to the door and made herself comfortable there.
Christiane just shook her head.
“I just wonder what would happen if I could see. What would change? How would my life go? Certainly different than it is now. But I would also have to do without abilities. Above all, I instinctively analyze voices. What phonetic properties, how is the pronunciation, what sound does the voice have, and so on. You follow me?”
“Still, you examine voices and sounds, probably just as unconsciously as many of us sighted pay attention to the outside world.”
“A good comparison. There's a voice I can't get out of my head anymore. Sometimes I even dream about it. Especially what it triggers in me. I'm happy when I hear it. The words have more content for me than just the meaning they would yield. Subtleties are well concealed and, above all, the person hides a great deal of their feelings in them. I don't think she even realizes that. In any case, during a conversation today, I noticed that I had unconsciously touched a sore spot. A nuance of insecurity gave it away. Christiane, it hurt me.”
“Hm, for once I would advise you to avoid the topic, whatever it may have been. Surely it will come up sooner or later. I think there is just a lack of trust. The mere fact that it hurt you is a sign that you like this person very much.”
“You're right. I really like her.”
“What I'm really interested in now...”
“You want to know who the person is?”
“That too, but I'm not holding out any hope of hearing it from you. No, what about the analysis of my voice?”
“There's nothing much to analyze. Only the Swabian dialect is interesting.”
“I'm from Hannover, there's nothing 'Swabian' about it!”
“I didn't say you were from the region either. You probably took on this peculiarity from your parents or grandparents.”
“Grandma! You heard that?”
“It's not hard for me, Christiane. Merz wouldn't notice.”
“He wouldn't even notice if Christoph spoke Hessian.”
“You're right, as a German teacher, he misses things like that. But he knows his literature. That's quite a different matter. Were you looking for me?”
“Yes, I need you to help me in the editorial office. I've roughly estimated how much space we need: it's not enough, Carsten.”
“Come on, let's go over there, we'll surely find a solution. Max!”
The dog joined the boy. Together they left the music cabinet. In the editorial office, the boy quickly realized what the problem was. There was too much text for the next issue. The outstanding interviews alone would take up more than two-thirds of the space. Carsten suggested packaging the students' statements in a small series. This saved a lot of space. Christiane agreed. They informed the team about their plans in a circular letter and asked for suggestions on how best to implement them. It was to be discussed at the next editorial meeting.
Carsten's golden retriever had probably had enough, at least she put her paw on his leg.
The boy understood the hint and reached for his watch.
“Oops, Christiane, it's almost eight o'clock, if we still want something to eat, we should get going!”
“Wow, it's that late already. Well, come on you two, let's get something to eat. We're having fish today.”