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If I had my cell phone at hand now, I could create a real work of art using a few filters. If. But soon I’ll have it again…
“Oh my fucking God, what’s wrong?” asks Philipp.
“Wrong?”He’s lost me.
“Why are you sighing like that?” He rests his wrists on the steering wheel and searches my gaze in the rearview mirror. “Have you turned into a coward??”
“Nonsense!” I contradict with more vigor than might be appropriate. But now that he brings it up, I do sense a bit of apprehension.
“It’s too late for that now anyway.” Through the windshield, he points to the cones of light from four headlights scanning across the uphill dirt road. “Ourgood folkswill be here in a minute.”
After thegood folkshave withdrawn, and I’m allowed to get out of the car—thank you very much, Philipp!—I almost drop dead.
Stunned, I circle mycarnoodle. “What did they do?” I give Philipp a nasty look. “It didn’t look that bad back when we were in Forest City. Did they take my little car for a joyride?”
“I’m sorry.” Side-illuminated by the beam of the headlights, Philipp’s face takes on a strange, hard pull. “We were too slow. That Kevin guy…” His hands close into fists and reopen. Again and again. Then he shakes himself almost imperceptibly, smirking wryly at me. “If it makes you feel any better, the Antifa-villains didn’t like the condition they found the Fiat in either. Which is why they paid Kevin back in kind.”
“His Benz? Oh no!” I slap my hand over my mouth. “It’s leased. That’s almost worse than if he owned it. Kevin’s going to freak!”
“At least our quick response force was caring enough to keep him from overheating during his rampage. They tied him up and gagged him under the cold shower spray of the bathtub.”
“Oh my God!” Inside me, jubilation over the payback clashes with genuine concern that Kevin will take terrible revenge… “And that’s where he’s been sitting since Monday night?”…if he survives hypothermia.
“Slowly! These guys aren’t quite as dumb as they look after all. When they went away, they left the apartment door open and rang the neighbors’ doorbells.” Philipp holds out the car key to me. “Let’s not dawdle any longer. Matze is waiting for the Fiat.”
Although my heart nearly breaks as I open the dent-strewn driver’s door, I obediently jam myself behind the wheel.
While Philipp climbs into the pickup, I start the engine. And then we drive along winding roads to a small car repair shop on the heights of Odin’s Forest uplands.
The next day we have to sort out—not everything fits into the wardrobes of the apartment he has given me. As I drag the boxes out of Philipp’s truck and look through their contents, the last remnants of the compassion I felt for Kevin fizzle out.
My cell phone, which hasn’t even been scratched in four years, still turns on. But the display is completely shattered, although it can still be repaired. The Kindle is definitely dead. You can still see the shoeprint on the e-reader’s broken casing. All the shots of Kevin have been plucked out of the photo albums of our time together. At least he left the ones of my childhood in peace.
Instead, he took out his anger on several of my clothes. Torn, cut, holes burned in them with a glowing cigarette.
Careful not to start crying, I stuff them into garbage bags. The next time Philipp goes shopping—I’d rather not go out the door looking like this—he can throw them in the old clothes container.
Of what’s still usable, I sort the winter clothes into the closet. The rest I pack in moving boxes, which Philipp still had in a storage room.
After dinner, Philipp picked up something from the Lebanese place. I ask him for the truck key.
“Here.” He tosses it over to me. “What do you need it for?”
I pick the last of the unfortunately far-too-luscious baklavas off the paper plate and throw it in the trash. Then I lick my fingers, which are sticky from the sugar. “I’ve been clearing out. I thought I’d go ahead and put this stuff in your truck.”
“Uh-huh.” He stands up. “And you thought I’d let you haul it all by yourself?” He shakes his head.
“Well, you still have to drive me to the storage room in Gundelsheim tomorrow…” I precede him down the hall to my door.
“Yes, sure…” His tone drips with irony. “If we help together, it’ll be done in no time.” He picks up two of the heavy boxes at once.
Unfortunately, I can’t think of a counterargument. So, I grab one of the old clothes bags and run after him.
After everything is stowed in the loading area, Philipp scratches his cheek with his fingernail. His critical gaze scrutinizes me. “Did you manage to find the contract?”
What does he mean? The rental contract?“Thank goodness you reminded me! That’s right, first thing tomorrow I’m drafting a letter to the landlord asking to be released from the lease.” I smirk wryly. “Fortunately, Horst insisted at the time that we include an agreement in the contract in the event of separation. So, thank God I don’t have to argue with Kevin about it.”
“That’s good,” Philipp replies. “But no, that’s not what I meant. I was talking about the contract between the two of us.”
