S. Gazan - The Dinosaur Feather

Johannes looked exasperated.

“Orlando is a reference to the eponymous hero of the novel by Virginia Woolf, obviously. Orlando starts off as a man and is later transformed into a woman. Like me, at nightfall.” He laughed. Anna gawked and said: “Okay.”

“But, no, I’m not gay,” he added, as though he had read her mind.

“So what are you then?” Anna asked, before she could stop herself.

“I’m into women.” He winked at her. “And, in addition, I’m a goth. From time to time I go to goth parties in drag; women’s clothing, that is.”

“So do you all have sex with each other or what?” Anna blurted out.

Johannes raised his eyebrows. “Sounds like someone’s interested in going?”

“Shut up.” Anna threw an eraser at him, but she couldn’t help smiling. “That’s not why I’m asking. I was just curious. You look like a…” she nodded in the direction of the screen. Johannes followed her gaze.

“Yes, I’m well and truly dolled up,” he said, pleased with himself. He drummed his fingers on the table and looked at Anna as though he was debating with himself whether or not he could be bothered to explain this to her.

“There’s no sex at the Red Mask,” he said eventually. “But quite a few people belong to the goth scene as well as the fetish scene. Me, for instance.” He gave her a probing look. “That club is called Inkognito, and events take place twice a month.” He scratched one eyebrow. “And yes, there we have sex. There are darkrooms, and people arrive dressed in latex and leather. Here you can be hung from the wall and given a damned good thrashing if that’s your thing.”

Anna held up her hand. “Yes, thank you, Johannes. That will do.”

“And prudes are very much in demand on the fetish scene. Very.” Johannes flung out his arms by way of invitation. Anna threw a notebook at him; Johannes parried by rolling his chair backward. He roared with laughter. Anna could restrain herself no longer and joined in. With Johannes, everything seemed so easy.

The only time the harmony between them soured was when the subject turned to Professor Helland. Shortly after they had become friends, Anna asked Johannes what was bothering Helland. In her opinion, he was always in a hurry; he was grumpy and vague. To her great surprise, Johannes seemed genuinely baffled. What did she mean? Helland had been a brilliant supervisor for him, he protested, beyond reproach.

“Don’t you find him distracted and apathetic?” she asked.

Johannes didn’t think so at all.

One day they almost had a fight about Helland. Anna happened to mention that she often fantasized about playing practical jokes on the supervisor; hiding his favorite reference book, for example, or removing a small, but vital part of his dissecting microscope, which was worth millions of kroner—just a tiny bolt so the lens wouldn’t focus or the eye pieces couldn’t be adjusted to fit the distance between Helland’s eyes. Or how about grafting mold onto his wallpaper? Or releasing a couple of mice in his office? Something that would wind him up without resulting in serious repercussions for her? They were enjoying a tea break and had discussed a film they had seen, they had been laughing, but Johannes paled when she shared her fantasy.

“That’s not funny,” he said. “Why do you say stuff like that? That’s really not funny.”

“Hey, relax,” Anna said, instantly embarrassed at suddenly finding herself isolated with an evidently highly inappropriate idea.

“You can’t go around playing tricks on people,” Johannes had muttered.

“It was just a joke,” Anna said.

“It didn’t sound like it,” Johannes said.

“Hang on, what are we really talking about?” Anna asked, defensively, and turned on her chair to face Johannes who was bent over his keyboard. “Are you saying you think I would actually hurt Professor Helland?”

“No, of course not.” But Johannes sounded unconvinced.

“It’s beyond me why you always have to defend him,” she continued, outraged.

“And it’s beyond me why you always have to attack him.” Johannes gave her a look of disbelief. “Honestly, Anna, just give the man a chance.”

“He’s not committed,” she said and could hear how ridiculous that sounded.

“And so he deserves mold on his wallpaper that will give him a headache, itchy eyes, and a runny nose?”

“It was a joke!”

Johannes studied her closely.

“Tell me, why do you have to be so harsh sometimes? Your tone… it can be really cutting. And Helland isn’t so bad. In many ways, he’s cool.”

Anna turned to her screen and hammered away at the keyboard. She was close to tears. Johannes reheated the kettle and made more tea.

“Here, gorgeous,” he said, affectionately, placing a cup on her desk. He nudged her softly.

“It was just a joke, all right?” she mumbled.

“But it wasn’t funny,” he replied and went back to his desk.

From that day on Johannes and Anna avoided discussing their mutual supervisor, even though Anna was finding Professor Helland’s behavior increasingly bizarre. One evening, after taking Lily to Cecilie’s, she cycled to the Institute to work. It was dusk and the parking lot behind the building was filled with dancing blue shadows. There was the leafy scent that carried the end to an unusually chilly summer. Pigeons were pecking at the ground by the bicycle stand. They scattered when her bicycle keeled over. Johannes had gone home hours ago, which was a shame.

Professor Helland materialized out of nowhere in the twilight. He stood with his back to her, completely rigid, right where the birds had just been congregating and he looked like a wax figure. He seemed unaware of the birds and didn’t turn around. Anna felt unnerved and carefully walked toward him. The light was fading, and she moved in a soft curve, hoping he would, at least, say “hi.” But still he didn’t turn. He remained with his back to her, apparently doing nothing. Anna looked for his car, but she couldn’t see it. She looked for his bicycle, but couldn’t see that either. Nor did he have car keys in his hand, or a bag slung over his shoulder, and he wasn’t wearing a jacket. She was just inside his field of vision now, so she cleared her throat. Helland turned his head and stared blankly at her; he opened his mouth to say something, but only a bubbling sound and some white froth emerged from the corner of his mouth.

“Are you all right?” Anna called out; she was frightened now.

“Gho whay,” he mumbled and lashed out at the air. He gave her a furious stare, but the blow had missed if, indeed, it had been Helland’s intention to push her away.

“Gho whay,” he repeated, a little louder. Some froth dripped from his mouth and disappeared into the darkness.

“You want me to go away?” Anna asked.

Helland nodded. “Yes, go away,” he said, very clearly this time.

Anna had left him there. Her heart had pounded all the way up to the second floor where she let herself into the photocopier room, which faced the parking lot. She stood in the dark window, watching Professor Helland. He stayed there for a while. Then he shuddered deeply, jerked his head, and shook first one, then his other leg and disappeared around the corner to the main parking lot.

She decided to tell Johannes about the incident the next day, and, to begin with, he looked annoyed with her for breaking their tacit agreement not to discuss Helland. But then, to Anna’s huge surprise, he admitted that he, too, had noticed that Helland wasn’t firing on all cylinders. Johannes and Helland were working on a paper based on Johannes’s dissertation and, to be honest, Helland hadn’t displayed his usual professional acuity.