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1
David had left long ago. I was still sitting on the bench. I could still smell him. I didn't want to leave. Eventually, I pulled myself together. For the first time, I came home feeling content with myself and the world. The prospect of possibly finding a friend again, which seemed impossible after Tim's death, made me see the future a little brighter. I couldn't wait to tell Oliver and Rasmus about David. I also wanted to ask Petra if David could stay for dinner the next day. I arrived home full of positive energy. However, the atmosphere was tense. As soon as I walked in, I heard Johannes's loud and excited voice:
"You've lost all sense! You've lost the last vestiges of your mind! I won't pull you out of it again! I hope that was a lesson to you!"
It was Rasmus who was being put down by Johannes. He stood there, completely dejected, listening to Johannes's tirades. Oliver explained to me what had happened.
Rasmus had been caught smoking hash at school. Johannes had persuaded the principal with the utmost sincerity to avoid being expelled. While he had supported Rasmus at school, Johannes now made him look like such a jerk that it was frightening. Oliver, too, was intimidated. I had never seen Johannes like this before, not even when Oliver had initially beaten up a classmate who had called him a "convict."
Finally, he sent Rasmus to his room. Oliver followed him. When the two left the room, Johannes breathed a sigh of relief.
"Was that really necessary?" I asked him. I thought his reaction was a bit exaggerated. After all, Rasmus hadn't injected heroin or taken any other hard drugs. I, too, had smoked a joint occasionally in my previous life.
"Yes, Rafael, that was so necessary," he replied, "even though it hurt me at least as much as it did Rasmus. I'm not concerned about that one joint. That's certainly not a big deal. But he has to get the stuff from somewhere. And whoever sells hash also sells other things. And Rasmus, none of you are yet stable enough to resist temptation in every possible situation. And our still-young family couldn't handle a junkie. That's why I had to react so harshly, even though it wasn't easy.
Now go comfort Rasmus and cheer him up a bit. I'm counting on you," he added, winking at me.
I followed them both to their room. Oliver stood somewhat helplessly at his desk. Rasmus sat on his bed, howling with rage.
"I'm leaving," he hurled at me. "Nobody wants me here anyway."
"Yes, I want you," I replied and sat down on the bed next to him.
“Me too,” murmured Oliver.
"But not Johannes. He hates me."
"That's not true. Believe me, he really loves you more than you think."
"Then why does he treat me like this? I haven't done anything that bad, have I?"
"Because he's afraid for you. He's afraid you'll slip away and fall back into your old life, or worse."
»But I just wanted to try it out...«
"Some things just aren't worth trying once. Rasmus, you've experienced firsthand how dangerous certain things can be and how quickly you can get caught up in something."
“What should I do now?” Rasmus asked tearfully.
"First, calm down and then apologize to Johannes."
"But I'm afraid he'll yell at me like that again, and anyway..."
"Don't worry. He won't," I interrupted. "I'll come with you, too."
I hugged Rasmus until he calmed down. Then we went to Johannes.
"Sorry," Rasmus pressed out, giving Johannes such a dachshund look that I, for one, would have forgiven him for much worse. And of course, Johannes couldn't resist him either. He hugged him tightly.
"Never do that again," he whispered in his ear. Rasmus shook his head vigorously.
"Little one, I'm so worried about you," he added.
Tears welled up in Rasmus's eyes again, and so did I. We were probably both thinking the same thing. We had only experienced someone caring about us for half a year. It still wasn't something we took for granted.
Because of the story with Rasmus, my experience faded into the background. Besides, Petra wasn't there yet, so I postponed the whole thing until dinner. The evening meal was sacred to us. While everyone ate breakfast and lunch whenever it suited them, we always sat at the table for dinner. That was also the time when all the important events of the day were discussed.
Rasmus was, of course, afraid that his faux pas would be brought up again, but I had a good diversionary tactic.
"Petra, I'm having a visitor tomorrow afternoon. Can I ask him if he wants to stay for dinner?" I began.
"So, who's coming?"
"Oh, just David, a classmate"
“Classmate or friend?” asked Johannes, grinning.
"Friend or friend?" Oliver shouted, earning him a kick from Rasmus.
"Ouch, one should still be allowed to ask," he complained.
“I don’t know yet either,” I replied, my face bright red.
"But you want more than just a classmate," Petra concluded. "Of course he can stay for dinner if he wants."
Fortunately, Johannes spared me further discussion by saying:
"That's enough, leave poor Rafael alone, otherwise we'll have to discuss other events of this day."
Rasmus immediately stopped all taunts.
When we had cleared the table and I was about to go to my room, Petra gave me a quick hug and whispered in my ear:
"I wish you lots of luck, big boy. I'm so glad you're getting your mind off things."
"Thanks, I can use it."
I had barely entered my room when Oliver and Rasmus stormed in.
“Come on, tell me,” Rasmus began.
"Now don't be so curious. I didn't ask your Bettina either."
"But you could have." The boy was quick-witted.
So I told them what had happened at lunch.
"You really told him everything? Including what we did in prison?"
"I had to, otherwise the whole story wouldn't have made sense."
"I don't think that's so great," Oliver grumbled. "Now every time he looks at me, I have to think about what intimate things he knows about me.
"I don't think it's that great either, but Rafael is right, without the intimate details you can't understand the story at all," said Rasmus.
“Is he gay?” asked Oliver.
"I don't know, we haven't talked about that."
"If he hugged you like that after the story, he must be gay," Rasmus concluded.
"We'll figure it out," Oliver said.
"You won't do anything. This is none of your business. And you will both promise me now that there will be no ambiguous comments or questions tomorrow. Is that clear?"
"If it absolutely has to be. But we're good at matchmaking. But if you absolutely want to forgo our services..."
"Idiot," I laughed and threw a pillow at his head. That was the starting signal for both of them to pounce on me. I could have easily dispatched one of them, but with two of them, it was much more difficult, and before I knew it, I was lying on the ground with the two of them sitting on top of me so I could barely move.
"We won," Oliver shouted. "Do you surrender?" And to emphasize his demand, he began tickling me.
"Yes, I surrender," was all I could manage to chuckle. Oliver stopped tickling and smiled at me. I think we all had the same thought at the same time. Oliver gave me a kiss and then stood up. Rasmus also released me.
"We haven't been this close in a long time," he said.
"I'm so glad I at least have you," I replied. I hugged them both and we cuddled for a while before they went to their room.
I lay down in bed, but I was far too excited to sleep. I hoped so much that I'd have a little luck this time. Some force guides everything in the right direction, Johannes had said back then. I hoped so much that he was right. I was simply hopelessly in love.
2
I've never walked into school with such joyful anticipation. I met David shortly before school. He looked absolutely gorgeous with his medium-length black hair. I wondered how I had managed to ignore it for the past six months.
“Will this work this afternoon?” I immediately urged him.
"Sure, we agreed."
"Could you stay for dinner?"
"I'll have to check that out at home first, but it'll probably be fine."
Of course, school didn't end that day. I was almost going crazy. When the bell finally rang for the last time, I sighed with relief.
“See you later,” I said goodbye to David in the park.
Luckily, he arrived on time that afternoon. When the doorbell rang, I rushed to the door. When I looked into his green eyes, I wanted to hug him right away. But before I could make any move, he held out his hand. Somewhat disappointed, I shook his hand. I would have liked to smell him a little more. Well, maybe I should take this a little slower.
“Wow, you have a great room,” David marveled when we arrived there.
I also liked my room. It was quite large. After all, it should have been big enough for two. The furnishings were bright and cheerful, even if they weren't designer. Johannes and Petra didn't have that much money. They did get money for us from the youth welfare office, but we cost them quite a bit. At least they had bought us all new furniture. And since there should have been enough for Tim, too, I had double the amount of everything.
David was right on my wavelength. We had a great conversation, starting off about school, of course. First, we went through all the teachers, then we moved on to our classmates. David had virtually no contact with them.
“They’re all just too stupid for me,” he said.
I found that a bit harsh. While I hadn't really wanted to fool around with them, I didn't find them entirely unpleasant.
At some point we came back to talking about me:
"And you really lived on the streets and worked as a prostitute?" he asked, looking at me almost admiringly.
"Yes, I told you." I was almost a little embarrassed.
"But why, you had a home?"
"I wouldn't call it home. It was hell for me."
David nodded thoughtfully.
"Compared to that, life on the streets seemed like heaven to me. No one trying to tell you what to do, no one trying to pressure you, no one trying to beat you up. It was pure freedom. And maybe there was also a bit of a thirst for adventure. You could feel like an outlaw. It wasn't until I met Tim that I realized the whole thing wasn't so great after all. And since I've been living here with Johannes and Petra, I'm quite sure I've traded one hell for another."
"But if this hadn't happened now, you'd probably still prefer the streets to living with your parents?"
"Absolutely."
"Actually, you were pretty lucky," said David, smiling a little crampedly.
“If you look at it that way, maybe,” I said.
The afternoon flew by. However, David was clearly keeping his distance from me. While I was eager to touch him, he tried to prevent it. I thought that was a shame, but maybe I was too hasty. I should just be more patient.
Dinner went smoothly. Oliver and Rasmus stayed quiet as promised. Johannes and Petra were friendly.
When David left, Oliver and Rasmus immediately came into my room.
"And?" asked Rasmus.
"Nothing, we had a good chat."
"Haven't you fucked yet?"
"Oliver, you're a dirty idiot."
"But it was different with Tim."
"That was a completely different situation."
Well, I would have liked it to be a little different, too. But that could still happen. I just couldn't be too impatient.
In any case, I now spent every free minute with David. We either met at my place or went into town, to the movies, or shopping. Unfortunately, we couldn't go to his place. His little sister would be so bitchy, I certainly wouldn't enjoy it. His sister was two years younger than him and went to our school, two grades below us. I had never seen her, and David made no attempt to introduce her to me. Their relationship must not have been that great. From his description, she must have been a real creep. I would have liked to meet her. But I didn't push him. I wasn't interested in his sister, but all the more in her brother. I almost went mad in his presence. I would have loved to ruffle his long hair, I would have loved to nibble on his sweet earlobe, I would have loved to inhale his scent, not to mention other things.
But unfortunately, he still avoided any kind of touch, let alone any attempt to touch me. He wouldn't even allow a simple hug to greet or say goodbye. I didn't know how much longer I could endure this.
"You just have to push harder," Oliver advised. Great. I didn't want to risk everything right away. But this couldn't go on much longer. I'd have to think of something.
3
"Hi Rafael." It was Martin, a classmate, who approached me during a break. I'd spoken to him several times before. He was actually a very pleasant guy.
"Hi," I replied.
"Well, you're hanging out with David all the time now."
"Is it that noticeable?"
"Well, you practically didn't talk to anyone for the first six months, and now you're practically inseparable. It's none of my business, but if I can give you some good advice, be careful with him. There's a reason he doesn't have any friends here. We've all had our experiences."
What was that all about? Had Martin completely gone crazy? Why did he want to spoil my friendship with David? David was probably right that the rest of the class were all assholes.
Before I could respond, Martin left me standing there. I wanted to follow him, but the recess bell forced me back into the classroom.
I couldn't figure out why Martin had spoken to me. Was it resentment, jealousy, but what for? Or was there a grain of truth in it? Shit, he's completely crazy. I wanted to gently ask David about it this afternoon. But today, of all days, he had to tutor his bitchy sister in math. His parents had insisted. I was slowly starting to hate his sister.
At least I had time to think. I decided things couldn't go on like this. Tomorrow, I would take a more targeted approach, even at the risk of him rejecting me. I've had wet dreams about him at night. Admittedly, I've helped myself often enough. But I didn't want to just dream about him all the time; I wanted to hold him in my arms for real.
The next day, everything was back to normal. We hung out in my room and chatted about all sorts of things. At some point, David brought up my time as a prostitute again. I didn't know why he was so interested in this topic. It was starting to get on my nerves. But this time, I was fine with it.
"Do you remember when I first told you this?" I began.
»Hm.«
"Afterwards, you hugged me so lovingly and comforted me. I thought that was wonderful. I never wanted to let you go back then. I enjoyed it immensely. I wish you could hug me like that again..."
"But I'm not gay. I find the whole thing perverse and disgusting," David interrupted harshly.
That was worse than ten slaps in the face. No one had ever scolded me like that before. I couldn't help it; tears welled up in my eyes. I didn't want him to think I was a crybaby, but it hurt so much.
David was also startled, probably by his own reaction. He suddenly looked at me very lovingly, almost like he had back then in the park.
"Sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you. I'm so sorry. I really like you, Rafael. But I'm not gay. I just can't do this." He said this now in a very gentle, loving voice.
But even though that was phrased much more kindly, the result remained the same. David couldn't and didn't want to become my boyfriend.
"But I've fallen madly in love with you. I can't think of anything else, day or night."
"Rafael, before I met you, I wouldn't have even spoken to a gay man, I found it so perverse, deviant, and disgusting. When I met you, I found you likeable, sensitive, and lovable. That's why I approached you. When you told me you were gay, I thought you'd still be the same person. But I still find affection and sex between boys disgusting. Rafael, I like you very much and would like to keep you as a friend, but only as a friend."
I had no idea how this would work. But I didn't have the courage to completely break off contact either. Maybe I secretly still had the hope that...
"I'll be wasting away next to you, but I also want to keep you as a friend," I answered through tears.
"Thank you," and then he added, speaking more to himself, "I find it so hard to make friends."
I was sitting at dinner feeling a bit depressed. Oliver also looked unhappy. His girlfriend had broken up with him. However, this was his second breakup, and his heartbreak didn't last very long. Rasmus used to say that girls were queuing up, practically choking each other out, to see who would comfort him.
But for me it was already over before it had even begun. And unfortunately there was no one lining up to comfort me. Wait, Rasmus and Oliver and also Johannes and Petra tried to comfort me. But all they could do was hug me and tell me that I would definitely find my true love. That didn't help much though. I had already found my true love. The problem was that my true love didn't want me. I spent another sleepless night. In my mind I broke off contact with David at least a hundred times, but a hundred times I thought of strategies how I could still get him.
4
David was strangely reserved the next morning. During the first break, he told me he felt sick and was going home. He had to tutor his sister again that afternoon, so we wouldn't be able to see each other. Somehow, that was fine with me. I needed to sort myself out first.
I went to Tim's grave that afternoon. I'd only been there once before, when Johannes had had a small stone placed there. I didn't associate any memory of Tim with the place. The body being eaten by the worms down there no longer had anything to do with Tim for me. That had been clear to me since the kiss in the morgue. The memory of him was connected to our cell. But of course, I couldn't go there.
Someone had placed a white rose on his grave, which was strange. The stone was already overgrown with moss.
Breaker Team
*27.2.1981
+15.10.1997
That's all the stone said. Although nothing here reminded me of Tim, there was a strange, solemn atmosphere about the place, as is typical of a cemetery.
"Dear God, Johannes always says that you guide everything in the right direction. You also gave me a new family. I'm grateful for that. Can't you give me a friend too? You took Tim away from me, which I still can't understand, and now you probably don't want me to have David either. Have I done something so bad that you're taking all my friends away from me? Please grant me some happiness."
I muttered this to myself. I didn't think anyone would listen, but I felt a little relieved. I even felt a little more positive. Even if I couldn't have David as a lover, I at least wanted to keep him as a friend. After all, he had accepted me as I was, considering what a homophobe he must have been before. And I still had a tiny hope that he would change his mind. After all, this was all completely new to him. I thought again about that afternoon in the park. Back then, I had been quite sure that there was more to his hug than just consolation. But here it was more wishful thinking.
The next day, David was completely normal again. We spent the afternoon together as if nothing had happened. But at some point, he started talking about my time at the train station again. It was starting to get on my nerves.
"What's the point of all this constant questioning and probing about my life as a rent boy?" I asked him, annoyed. "You're not gay. Why do you want to know that so precisely?"
"Maybe I want to understand you better," he replied, just as annoyed.
Was that what stood between us? He probably found it disgusting that I had sold myself to men. But I didn't dare ask for fear of the answer.
Anyway, the good mood was gone and David disappeared pretty soon.
The next few weeks were up and down. Sometimes it was like before, then without warning, his mood would change, and he would suddenly become extremely cold towards me. But one thing remained constant: I still felt a tingling sensation in his presence, an almost irresistible urge to hug him. If I had hoped that this would subside over time, I was probably mistaken.
However, our meetings outside of school became less and less frequent. Sometimes he had to help his idiotic sister with her homework, other times he just didn't feel like it. What worried me more, however, was that he was disappearing more and more often during school hours. At first, he would excuse himself by saying he was nauseous or had a headache, but later he would simply disappear without saying anything. The next math test was a complete disaster, even though math was actually his specialty. When he then failed his English test two weeks later, I was seriously worried. I was wondering again whether it was my fault. Maybe he couldn't handle having a gay friend. If that was the case, we would have to end the friendship. Even though I didn't want to imagine it happening, I didn't want to be responsible for him having such problems at school. Then I would just have to suffer, and hopefully, it would all go away at some point. The thought almost made me vomit.
Nevertheless, when David tried to sneak out of school again the following Monday, I grabbed his arm and tried to pull him into a corner.
"I really need to talk to you."
"Let me go right now, you faggot," he yelled at me. "You're just disgusting."
Frozen with shock, I let go of him. No one else had heard, but no one had ever insulted me so badly. Without another word, David turned around and ran away.
Now I'd finally had enough. I didn't have to put up with this. I'd tried everything I could. I hated him. I never wanted to see him again.
On Tuesday, David didn't show up at school at all. 'I hope he ran in front of a car,' I thought.
He didn't show up on Wednesday either. 'He should stay where the pepper grows.'
On Thursday, he was still missing. 'He'll see what he gets out of it.'
On Friday, he was still missing. 'If I were him, I'd start showing up again.'
The next Monday he didn't come back either. 'I have to ask Martin if he always does it like this.'
"Hey, Martin, can I ask you something?"
"Yeah, sure, is it about David?"
"Exactly, how do you know that?"
"Well, you can see that. You're experiencing what we all experienced with him. At first, he's incredibly friendly, and you think he's the nicest boy ever. And then, at some point, he suddenly starts losing his temper, yells at you, or even wants to beat you up. All out of the blue. That's what happened to you, too, wasn't it?"
"Yes, exactly." So it probably had nothing to do with me being gay after all. After all, it was unlikely that the whole class was gay. Somehow, that calmed me down a little.
"Did he always skip school before, too?" I asked.
"No, this is his first time doing this."
Immediately, I felt a pang of guilt again. Damn, I hadn't done anything to him. So why was I feeling guilty again?
When David still hadn't shown up on Tuesday, I decided to do something. I wanted to go to his house and find out once and for all what was going on. Damn, I didn't even have his address, let alone his phone number. I noticed that David had always avoided talking about home or his parents. The only person he mentioned from time to time was his sister, who seemed to be getting on his nerves. I could ask her about David, after all. But I didn't know her, and I didn't even know exactly what class she was in. Finally, I had a saving grace. I could just ask the school office for his address. I went there during recess.
"Good morning, Ms. Weber. I'm Rafael Schumann. I'm in class 10b. I'm here because of David Jendralsky. He's been absent for a week and I'd like to visit him at home, but I don't have his address. Could you please give it to me?"
"Absence is fine, he's playing truant. I just wrote a letter to his parents," Ms. Weber replied. "Unfortunately, I can't give you his address. We're not allowed to release student information here."
I must have looked at her with complete disappointment. Anyway, she continued:
"But I can give you a tip. Parent representatives usually make class lists with the names, addresses, and phone numbers of all students. Ask your parents; they probably have one."
That was true; I had received it at the beginning and passed it on to Petra. But there might have been another possibility.
"Mrs. Weber, David also has a sister here. I think she must be in 8a or 8b. Perhaps you could tell me which grade she's in."
"David doesn't have a sister, at least not at our school."
I must have misheard. That couldn't be true. I looked at her, completely stunned. That's probably why she added:
"Certainly not, I had picked out his file to write the letter to his parents."
5
What was that all about? Was I on "Candid Camera"? I looked around, searching, but nothing was happening. Damn, why is this asshole lying to me like this? What had been love a moment ago had now completely turned into hate. I'd never been so betrayed, so deceived. What did this asshole think he was doing? I was finally done with him. But I wanted to at least throw that in his face.
So, as soon as I got home, I asked Petra for the class list. It really did exist, and it actually contained all the addresses and phone numbers. All of them, except for one. There was nothing for David Jendralsky: no address, no phone number. What a bummer! Now there was only one possibility. I grabbed the phone book. Luckily, David's name wasn't Meier. At least there were five Jendralskys. Three of them had addresses. I got the map. It couldn't be that far from me. At least you had to be able to reach it on foot. Two Jendralskys were immediately ruled out. She lived on the other side of town. That left one, and the two without addresses. Of course, there was also the possibility that David's parents weren't in the phone book at all. I thought about it for a moment. I didn't want to call, I wanted to speak to him in person. But two Jendralskys didn't have an address. Before I set off in vain, I wanted to check with both of them. So I dialed the first number.
“Jendralsky,” a woman’s voice answered.
"Good day, I would like to speak to David," I began.
"We don't have a David here. You must have dialed the wrong number."
"Please excuse the interruption."
Two more remained. Unfortunately, no one answered the phone at the next number. Okay, then I'll go to the third address: Humboldtring 84. Armed with the map, I set off. It took me a quarter of an hour. Then I stood in front of a huge apartment building. There were at least 100 names on the front door. It took at least 10 minutes before I found Jendralsky. Luckily, it said 5th floor on the right. I was just about to ring the bell when it occurred to me: he probably wouldn't let me in at all, and then I'd be standing down here and everything would have been for nothing. I had to get into the building somehow and ring the doorbell directly. Then he wouldn't be able to escape me.
Luckily, a couple left the building shortly afterward. I took the opportunity to slip inside. I took the elevator to the fifth floor. The apartments were all located on a gallery open to the outside. After some searching, I finally found the right apartment. I took a deep breath and pressed the doorbell.
A two-tone gong sounded. At first, nothing happened. Then I heard a crash, like a chair falling over. Next, I heard the sound of footsteps approaching the door. Finally, the door opened.
I saw a woman, not particularly tall. She was wearing a housewife's smock. If she had once been beautiful, she certainly wasn't anymore. Her face looked worn. Her hair was unkempt and stuck out in all directions. Her eyes were glassy. She seemed to be looking right through me.
"What do you want?" she slurred.
There was no doubt the woman was completely drunk. I must have picked the wrong address. Just to say something, I replied:
"I would like to speak to David."
Instead of answering, she burst into hysterical laughter. I was completely horrified.
"What's going on? Who's here?" I heard a deep voice from the apartment. A short time later, a giant man appeared, wearing stained trousers and a fine-ribbed undershirt.
The woman stopped laughing.
“Someone wants to speak to David,” the woman whispered.
"David isn't here anymore," the man began, almost whispering. "You can look for him at the station, where he belongs." His tone rose. "That cocksucker, that breechloader. And if that bastard dares to show up here again, I'll carry him back to the station myself, after breaking every single bone in him." The man was almost shouting. Then he looked at me piercingly and began again, his voice now threatening:
"And you? Are you part of this group too?" His face took on a disgusted expression.
I had only one thought: just get out of here. I turned around and ran, ran down the five floors, just out of the building. I didn't stop outside either. I ran without looking left or right, ran for at least 15 minutes before I stopped, completely exhausted. Coincidentally, it was the very park where I had sat on the bench with David that day. My lungs hurt when I breathed, I was so out of breath. I sat down.
It was like scales falling from my eyes. Suddenly, everything was clear. Everything fit together like a puzzle: the fictitious sister, the mood swings, the constant questions about my time as a prostitute—I, the idiot, had told him about the initial feeling of freedom, but he probably didn't want to hear the rest—his truancy, and ultimately, his disappearance.
Tears welled up in my eyes, and I cried and cried. And as if fate wanted to mock me even more, I was sitting on the very bench where it all had begun not so long ago. Only this time, no one was there to hold me and comfort me. And today, of all days, I was sure it was more than just comfort. But this realization only made me cry even harder.
6
At some point, I started my way home. When I got home, I ran right into Johannes. When he saw me like that, he immediately pulled me into his study.
"Hey, big guy, what's going on?"
"I only bring bad luck to everyone. Anyone who gets involved with me can make their will," I said through tears.
"What's going on?" he asked, alarmed. "Now tell me everything in order."
I told him what had happened in the last week up until my visit to David's parents.
"I always want the best. But everything I touch turns evil," I concluded.
Johannes took me in his arms.
"You overestimate your infernal power, my boy. What happened with Tim was an unfortunate chain of circumstances in which you had no part whatsoever. And now, this thing with David—that would have happened sooner or later anyway. Maybe you sped it up by a few weeks, but you wouldn't have prevented it. If they'd known beforehand what emotional stress David was under, if he'd said anything, maybe they could have arranged something."
“I just misinterpreted all the signs,” I complained.
"Now stop blaming yourself. You couldn't have seen it. Afterward, it always looks like you could have seen it. But that's not the case."
"Yes, I should have recognized it. I experienced it all myself," I whispered.
"Cheer up, maybe your David can still be helped. I'll contact the youth welfare office and see what can be done," promised Johannes.
“Is it of any use if I forbid you to look for David?” he then asked.
"Please don't do that, I don't want to have to lie to you," I replied.
"You know why I'm concerned?"
"Don't worry. I've found something here I've never had in my entire life: a real home. I won't risk that."
Johannes hugged me and whispered in my ear: “I hope you’re strong enough.”
I just nodded my head slightly.
The very next day, after finishing my homework, I went to the train station. I arrived around 5:00 a.m. That was just the right time. Usually, there weren't any guys there before. It was a strange feeling going back after more than a year. The number of drug addicts seemed to have diminished somewhat. Otherwise, not much had changed. The area where the prostitutes hung out was still as unsightly as it had always been. Some of the guys were already there. David wasn't among them. I didn't know any of the others. Maybe he'd come later, or maybe he wouldn't come at all. In the past, when I had enough money, I often treated myself to a break. So I stood in a corner as inconspicuously as possible and watched what was going on. I automatically began to see the scene through the eyes of a prostitute. People were divided into colleagues/competitors, potential clients, and cops. Everyone else fell through the cracks and were practically unnoticed. All the guys at the station did the same. Of course, the other guys here did too. It wasn't long before one of the other boys, about three years older than me, came over to me.
«Hi»
“Hi,” I replied.
"You're new here." This was a rhetorical question for him. So he didn't wait for an answer, but continued directly:
“Do you know the rules?”
The rules were: no price gouging and no hitting on a client who was already on someone else's list. I still knew everything.
"Hey, I'm just waiting here," I replied. The boy just looked at me in confusion.
"I'm looking for someone," I explained. The penny seemed to drop for him.
"Well, I'd do it for less with you." I had now fallen into the category of a john for him, even though I was still so young myself.
“No, thanks, I’m looking for a specific one,” I tried to explain further.
"Why, I'm sure I can do it better for you," the boy persisted. I almost had to laugh.
"I don't want sex, I'm looking for a friend." Now he finally understood.
"Oh, I see. Do you have 5 marks for me?" That was the usual tactic when a client didn't want you, to at least get something out of you. It was probably so ingrained in him that the question came automatically.
“Hey, you have more money than me,” I replied.
«How did you come up with that?»
"I was in the store myself."
"And why aren't you anymore?"
«I have something better.»
"Are you living with a guy?" That was always a comfortable situation for a prostitute. Having a client you could live with. Then you had the biggest problem—room and board—already solved, and at most you needed to earn a little extra money from time to time.
“No, I have a foster family.” Of course, that didn’t impress the boy.
“Pffff,” he said contemptuously and was about to turn to leave.
"Wait, wait a minute." The boy turned around again. "Do you know a David, long black hair, green eyes?"
“What do you want from him?” the other asked suspiciously.
"He's a friend of mine. I heard he's working here."
"Oh, I was here yesterday. I haven't seen him today. Maybe he'll come. What's his name anyway?"
"Rafael. And you?"
“Tim.” That too!
“I’ll move on then,” Tim finished and left me standing there.
At least now I knew David was really here. All I had to do was wait for him to show up. I was already thinking about how I wanted to approach him. I hoped he wouldn't run off right away. I would suggest that we find a solution together with Johannes. There was no way he could go back home. I was so lost in thought that I wasn't paying attention to my surroundings. So I was really startled when a man spoke to me.
"Are you new here? What do you do?" Of course, what he meant was what sexual practices I offered.
"I'm just waiting here," I said firmly. No thanks, this was really over, this really didn't have to be. The guy mumbled something about "waiting somewhere else" and walked away.
From then on, I was more attentive and changed my seat as soon as I noticed a guy staring at me or making eye contact. I waited another two hours, then I gave up hope that Tim would come and went home.
7
Johannes intercepted me right at the entrance and pulled me into the study.
“And,” he asked.
"I didn't find him, but I found out he was already there. I'll keep looking for him."
"And what do you want to do when you find him?"
"I want to tell him that the path he's chosen is a dead end. And I'll tell him there's another way without having to go back to his parents."
Johannes nodded: "I haven't reached anyone at the youth welfare office yet, but there are certainly options. Okay, now let's get dinner. We've been waiting for you."
Only Johannes and Petra knew about this latest development. We hadn't told Oliver and Rasmus anything. Nevertheless, they both noticed that something was wrong and came to see me later.
"What's going on? You're completely out of your mind," Oliver began.
"Oh, I'm still sad about David."
"Forget about that idiot. If he doesn't want you, it's his own fault," Oliver advised.
"There's something else. The fact that David doesn't want you isn't the whole story," said Rasmus. The boy had an almost uncanny sensitivity. He sensed immediately when something was wrong.
"Come on, Rafael, you always told us everything. Don't you trust us anymore?" He looked at me so sadly that I couldn't help it. I told them what had happened. They were shocked, too, of course.
"That's terrible. What do you want to do now?"
"Go to the train station every day until I find him. And then I have to try to convince him to look for another solution."
"We'll come with you and help you search," Oliver offered. "And if you can't, we can search on our own."
"Absolutely not. Johannes didn't want me to look for him. If I take you to the train station, he'll kill me," I countered. Johannes wasn't even allowed to know that the two of them had this idea.
"Okay," they both agreed, somewhat sadly, "but if we can help you in any way, just let us know." I promised.
The next afternoon, I headed back to the train station. I waited for almost three hours, but David didn't show up.
I didn't have to do any homework on Friday. I postponed it until Saturday morning. So I was at the train station by three. Maybe I'd always been too late to meet him. Despite the early hour, two guys were already there. I already knew one of them and asked him about David. But he hadn't seen him in a while. So I kept waiting. Men were approaching me more and more often, but I kept repeating my little joke that I was just waiting there. Of course, that was becoming increasingly unbelievable. Some guys who had approached me the previous days tried again. Maybe they were still hoping to get some luck. My answer was, of course, a bit silly. No boy waits in a certain place day after day, and certainly not at the train station. But I didn't want to reveal the real reason. It was nobody's business. So I kept waiting and observed the scene. At some point, I saw him. I had to look twice. But there was no doubt about it. It was him. He was the only one I was afraid to meet. If I'd met the guy who raped me, or the sadist who beat me up and then threw me out of the car without paying me, I wouldn't have cared. I would have spit in their faces. But him! I really hoped he wouldn't come here again. I briefly considered running away, but I was paralyzed. My past had caught up with me.
8
Gerhard had been one of my regular suitors. He came almost every week, even when he didn't have time to take me with him. He always brought me something, sometimes without asking for anything in return. He often went out to dinner with me. And he helped me as much as he could when I was having problems. He was the only one I had any emotional contact with during that time. He was almost like a father figure to me. However, he also wanted to sleep with me. And that didn't really fit. Still, if he'd asked me back then if I'd stay with him, I probably would have. I couldn't imagine myself finding a real family again. But Gerhard had never asked me either, since he was married and, of course, didn't want to give that up. My feelings oscillated between gratitude and hatred. I really didn't know how to behave towards him.
Of course, he spotted me immediately and came to me beaming with joy.
“Hi, Rafael, I didn’t think I’d see you again,” he began.
Me neither, I thought, smiling painfully.
"I've been looking for you for months. Where have you been?"
"I messed up. I went to jail."
“What did you do?” he asked.
"I stole something from a customer." Gerhard looked at me reproachfully.
"Was it worth it?"
Yes, I thought to myself, that was it. "No, probably not," I replied.
“But now you’re back,” says Gerhard.
"I'm not..." I began, but Gerhard didn't let me finish.
"I've missed you so much. But after you disappeared, I started looking for someone new. But I didn't find anyone like you. A few weeks ago, I found someone who reminded me a lot of you. But unfortunately, he seems to have disappeared again."
I barely listened to him because I knew what was coming. I frantically considered what to do. It wasn't long before he asked:
«Would you like to come with me?»
Shit, shit, shit, I just thought.
I didn't answer him, but almost as if under compulsion, I nodded.
He took me to that hourly hotel, just like back then. The same sleazy owner was still sitting at the entrance, where you paid the 25 marks for the room. The stairs were still dark with the worn carpeting, the room still shabby. The furnishings consisted of a bed, a table with a chair, and a sink. You didn't need anything else. For what you were doing there, the facilities were perfectly adequate.
I was functioning—yes, you could say that—nothing more, nothing less. Afterwards, though, I felt like crap. Gerhard noticed something was wrong.
“What’s going on?” he asked.
"I'm not on the streets anymore."
“How?” He looked at me in confusion.
I told him what had happened, that I'd found a family through prison and was actually happy there now. Gerhard turned pale.
"Why didn't you tell me? And why did you come along in the first place?"
If only I'd known that myself. I just shrugged.
"And anyway, if you're not on the streets anymore, why are you hanging around here at the train station?"
"I'm looking for someone here," I answered. Gerhard looked at me questioningly.
I told him in broad terms about David: that I had fallen in love with him, but that he wasn't gay, that he had a difficult family situation and that he had probably ended up here.
Gerhard became paler and paler as I told my story.
"David is the boy I told you about earlier," he almost whispered.
I didn't think I heard right. David, the new prostitute of my former regular? I, who loved him, wasn't even allowed to hug him, and Gerhard was allowed to fuck him for 100 bucks. I felt anger rising within me.
"You pig," I yelled at him. "Why are you doing this to him? He's not even gay." Gerhard recoiled.
"Now, take it easy. I didn't force him to do anything, you know that very well. He was a prostitute here, and I wasn't even his first client."
He was right. I couldn't tell whether this was a comedy or a tragedy. David and I had never kissed, let alone had sex, yet we were getting fucked by the same client.
“But still,” I began.
"And as for being gay, he's at least as gay as you are, believe me," he concluded.
“But he did…” I began again.
"If I may remind you, what you always told me: that you're always thinking about a hot chick, otherwise you wouldn't be able to do it. Have you already forgotten that?"
I blushed. He was right. I'd already made my coming out as painful as possible. But why was David doing exactly the same shit now? He knew what had happened to me. I couldn't understand it at all. But a solution was slowly forming in my mind. If he really was gay, all he needed was someone to help him come out. And that should be doable. Gerhard must have noticed that I was thinking.
"If I may give you some advice, you have to hurry. If you want to help your friend, you have to act fast. He's started snorting cocaine. And the last time he told me, a john offered to move in with him. The john would then immediately supply him with cocaine. And since he didn't show up after that, I'm afraid he accepted the offer."
This too. As if that one thing wasn't enough. But it didn't change the solution I had come up with.
"I have to go then," I said. I didn't want any money from Gerhard. Nevertheless, he slipped a 100-euro note into my pocket.
"You never know if you might need it someday," he said. I couldn't imagine what it would be for, but I kept the money anyway. I would put it in my desk. Whatever I bought with it would always remind me of that hour in that dingy dive. So, as far as I was concerned, the money could molder in my desk.
“Take care,” said Gerhard as he said goodbye, this time probably a goodbye forever.
"Take care."
This chapter of my life was probably finally closed after this relapse.
At least I now knew exactly what I wanted to do.
9
As soon as I got home, I rushed to Johannes's study.
"Hello, what's going on? You might have some energy," he greeted me.
"I have a lead on David. I think I can find him within a week."
“Well, get started then,” he urged me.
I told him what I'd learned. I preferred not to mention the 100-mark note crinkling in my pocket and how I came to have it.
“And how do you think we should proceed now?” he asked.
"Well, first I have to find him, and then I have to help him accept himself, and then..." I hesitated and looked at Johannes with my favorite dachshund look.
"Look, Tim was supposed to stay with us, and there's still a free bed in my room. I thought David might be able to join us."
Johannes looked at me sadly and then shook his head.
“I’m sorry, but that’s not possible.” My world collapsed.
“Please,” I begged him, “why can’t this work?”
"Well, first of all, I don't know if he's ready to accept himself like this,"
"Let that be my worry, I can handle it," I interrupted.
"Then I don't know if he fits into our family," he continued.
"We'll manage. We'll bend him so he fits. Rasmus and Oliver will definitely help me. Once he has a family again, everything will be fine."
"And the third and worst thing for me is that he's a drug addict. You yourself saw not so long ago that we still have to be careful about that. I don't want to take in an addict and risk our entire family. David needs 100 percent care now, if he even wants it."
“He would have that with us.”
"But that would ruin our family. The risk is too great for me."
"You wanted to take in four boys from prison. The risk wasn't too great for you," I interjected desperately.
"I had several months to observe you. I could already assess that. Besides, none of you were drug addicts. The only small risk—and I never wanted to tell you this—that I saw was, oddly enough, the relationship between you and Tim. I wouldn't have known what we would have done if you had reoriented yourselves in the changed environment."
"Luckily, you were spared that," I said cynically. He was clearly a bit crazy.
"I just wanted to tell you that I'm also willing to take a risk if it's assessable."
I didn't even hear that anymore.
"You just don't want me to be happy. You always talk about risk when something doesn't suit you. You don't begrudge me my happiness. You should have left me where I was. That would have been more honest, at least," I yelled at him.
"I hate all of you," I added, rushed out of the room, slammed the door behind me, and ran straight into my room, past a horrified Rasmus, who was just passing by. I threw myself onto my bed and cried bitterly. I wouldn't stay here any longer. Once again, I had been so disappointed. I cried so much that I didn't hear the door open quietly. I only jumped up when someone gently stroked my head. It was Rasmus, sitting on my bed.
and wanted to comfort me.
"Get out of here," I yelled at him. "None of you want me."
“Yes, I want you,” he said quietly.
"Maybe you, but not Johannes. He does everything to make me unhappy."
"That's not right. John does everything for us."
"If he loved me, he would allow me to bring David here."
"Maybe he doesn't allow it right now because he loves you."
"That's just nonsense."
"Maybe he doesn't want to see you go under because you can't get David under control."
“But what else can I do?”
"Didn't you talk to him about other ways to help David?"
I shook my head. "I don't know any other."
"And just because you don't know anything else, there's no other option? Why don't you ask John? If there's any option, he'll surely help you."
I was probably so fixated on this one solution that I wasn't open to any alternatives.
"What should I do now? I yelled at Johannes so badly."
"Same as I did back then. You go apologize. I'm sure he'll work with you to find a solution."
So, with my tear-filled eyes, I crept back into Johannes's study. He was sitting at his desk, his eyes red as well.
"Sorry. I must have behaved really badly. I was so fixated that I didn't want to see anything else. Can you forgive me again?" He came over to me and hugged me.
"That really hurt me. Believe me, big boy, I don't want to do anything that will harm you in any way. I love you very much."
"I know that. But I was so desperate."
"So desperate that you didn't even want to look for other solutions."
I just nodded.
“Shall we now look for possibilities together?”
I nodded again.
"Well, originally, I thought David could go to a supported residential group. He would then have been able to go back to school normally, and everything would have progressed, wherever it took him. I had already inquired about that.
If he takes cocaine, it's more difficult. He can't get off it on his own. He needs professional help."
"Yes, I remember. When the addicts were in withdrawal, they were in agony."
"With cocaine, it's a little different. You don't suffer any physical pain when you stop using it."
“Then withdrawal should be much easier.”
"That's not entirely true. Cocaine is insidious. It makes you believe you're great and active. Only when the effect wears off do you fall into a hole. And the more often you take the stuff, the worse the depression afterwards. And to combat that, you need more cocaine. It doesn't hurt, but it's almost worse than heroin."
“And what can you do?”
"This can almost only be done in a closed environment. But the most important thing is that David actually wants it. If he doesn't see the need for it, it's pointless. If he starts where he left off after withdrawal, he'll quickly find himself back where he is today."
“And what can I do about it?”
"You probably know that better than anyone. You can try to make him understand that he's maneuvering himself into a situation that will ultimately be just as bad as the one he fled from. And you can try, if he really is gay, to help him come out personally to relieve this emotional stress."
“That’s pretty difficult,” I mused.
"Well, I think so too."
"But I have to at least try. I owe it to him and to myself."
"You still love him?"
I nodded. Not a day went by without me thinking about that one scene in the park. That was the only time David was actually in front of me. And I loved that David. And it made me despair that he wasn't anymore. My eyes were getting moist again.
"Take care, big guy. I know I can't stop you from looking for David. But be careful. It won't help anyone if you get hurt in the process. Promise me."
“I promise,” I concluded.
10
I continued to spend all my free time at the train station. By now, I was well-known everywhere there, both among prostitutes and clients. But I was no longer harassed. I also met Gerhard again. He asked me about the success of my search, but didn't ask me if I wanted to come with him. He was still looking for a replacement for me. I almost felt sorry for him.
One day, I finally got the first sign of life from David. One of the guys told me he'd been there an hour earlier. Apparently, he really had been staying with a client who had practically plied him with cocaine. But the client had apparently gotten fed up with him and kicked him out. He wasn't in a good mood and had disappeared again soon after.
Well, something at least. Maybe he'd show up again. I waited as long as I could, but David didn't appear. Naturally, I was late for dinner and received disapproving looks.
“How long do you want to keep doing this?” asked Petra.
"I must have spoken to him at least once." At least I was able to report that it probably wouldn't take much longer.
The next day, I ran into Tim at the train station. He immediately started talking to me:
“I think you can forget about your friend.”
"How come?"
"He was here again last night, totally aggressive. He was picking on people and almost started a fight, the idiot. Anyway, he got into trouble with the cops, and they banned him from the premises. I went out with him to calm him down. We ran into a john who was looking for a guy or two to take to Berlin for the weekend. I don't do that sort of thing, even though the guy praised Berlin highly: the stuff is cheaper, the scene is much bigger, and everything is so much cooler. This place, compared to that, is pure provinciality. Well, like I said, I don't do that sort of thing; I've had bad experiences there. But David pricked up his ears. He needed to get away from here for a while anyway, and he could just as easily work as a prostitute in Berlin. Besides, he'd always wanted to go to Berlin. And then he took off with the guy."
Oh shit, that was it. I guess I had to give up the search. Johannes would never allow me to go to Berlin. I thought about it feverishly. Maybe he hadn't come with me after all. Or he'd come back after the weekend. I decided to look for him again at the beginning of the following week. And if I hadn't heard from him by Tuesday, I'd follow him to Berlin too. It was crazy, and I'd probably have to take off without saying anything. Johannes would never have allowed that. But otherwise I wouldn't find any peace. It would be even harder to find him in Berlin, but on the other hand, I could search for him all day and not just for a few hours like here.
I didn't find David on Monday or Tuesday. No one else had seen him either. On Tuesday, I inquired about train connections to Berlin.
The trip would cost 70 marks. I hadn't even thought about that. Fare dodging was out of the question; the journey was too long. I had no chance. My pocket money was pretty much depleted, too. Then I remembered Gerhard's 100-mark note, which was still rotting away in my desk. Yes, that would work. I could use it for that.
I considered whether I should tell Rasmus and Oliver about my plans. But then I decided against it because I didn't want to put them in a conflict. I would have to demand that they keep quiet, while Petra and Johannes would surely grill them about my whereabouts.
I finally decided to write a letter to everyone.
Dear Petra, dear Johannes, dear Rasmus, dear Oliver,
I know you might be disappointed right now, but I can't do anything else. I learned that David left town. I also found out where he went. I simply have to find him and talk to him, no matter the outcome. Otherwise, I can't close this. I promise I'll be back by Sunday at the latest. Please don't worry. I hope you can forgive me.
Your Rafael
Then I took the textbooks out of my school backpack and packed a few things in instead. That should be enough until the weekend.