Stephanie de Velasco - Tiger Milk

I put the DVDs and the box into a rubbish bag. Jessi and Pepi are sitting on the sofa watching TV, they’re in normal clothes. I go to the goodie cabinet and grab a packet of cookies and put it on the coffee table in front of them.

Listen up, I say, you stay here just like Mama and Nico said, eat cookies and watch TV, I’ll be right back, don’t open the door for anybody, not even someone you know, understand.

Yes, says Jessi and nods.

I sprint down the street like an idiot, I run as fast as I can, like the red-haired girl in that one movie, I saw it on TV, she ran through the entire city and was just as out of breath as I am now, and just like me she had a plastic bag in her hand though hers had 100,000 euros in it instead of pornos. I run panting across intersections, cars beep their horns, up on top of the minaret of a mosque a muezzin howls, a flock of black birds that Jameelah would say were rooks not ravens takes off fluttering totally directionless around the minaret, swarming, they look like a giant Palestinian scarf floating in the wind.

On the pavement in front of the police station I brace my hands on my knees and pant for breath. The children’s hospital, the lead doctor, the green park, Nico’s kisses, it all seems impossibly far away, like I was never there, I must have dreamed the whole thing. This, this is real life, side stitches, pornos, and the taste of blood. I pull the wad of blood-soaked toilet paper out of my mouth, toss it into the plastic bag with the rest of the crap, and go inside.

The station smells like file cabinets and coffee and like rooms where you’re not allowed to smoke anymore. I run down the hall but I don’t have to go far because I can already see them all sitting there, Nico and Mama, Noura and Jameelah, and two police officers with serious looks on their faces. Nico looks away when I show up. What a coward.

Mama comes up to me.

What have you got yourself into again this time, she says as if this kind of thing happens to me all the time, as if I might as well live up there in the play fort at the playground and constantly watch as girls are stabbed to death by their brothers next to Amir’s linden tree.

Is this the other witness, asks one of the policemen.

Yes, I say, but the thing with the jewellery, I can explain that, I wanted to take it, not her, I say pointing at Jameelah, she had nothing to do with it. At first we threw it all away but then we went back but the bin men had already taken it.

It’s alright, he says, your friend already told us everything.

So, I say, are we going to get in trouble?

No, he says laughing but then he frowns.

You’re bleeding, he says.

Yeah, it’s my wisdom teeth, I say, the stitches popped out.

And that on top of it all, says Mama.

The policeman hands me a tissue as a young female officer comes down the hall.

We got him, she says, he was apprehended at home.

And, asks the policeman, any drama?

Not really, he barricaded himself in and we suspected he was planning to harm himself, but the team got in and was able to subdue him. No corporal damage.

Corporal damage. I let the phrase float past me. I know what it means, everyone around here does because they always say it on the train when somebody jumps in front of an S-bahn and you have to wait until they’ve scraped the corporal damage off the tracks before the train can continue. Sometimes it’s better to die than to live with whatever has happened, which is probably what Tarik was thinking. I’m sure that it’s true.

Mama pulls me to her.

How do you get yourself into these things, she says stroking my hair.

I shrug my shoulders.

No idea, I say, no idea what I’m supposed to say, I didn’t get myself into anything, I didn’t do anything at all. Mama doesn’t get it, she’s forgotten everything off on her island though I’m really only realizing it now. I try to look past Mama to Jameelah but she looks away, off in the other direction, though Nico does look at me and I give him the dirtiest look of all time, at least I hope that’s the way it comes across.

Sorry, says Noura, what has happened with little Selma and her mother?

They’ve been taken to an undisclosed location, says the policewoman, because of the press.

And the boy?

He’ll be released from custody as soon as everything is verified, says the policeman.

And then what? Where will he live?

I don’t know, to begin with he’ll probably be put in a home of some sort.

Can’t he live with us for a while, asks Noura.

Yes, theoretically, says the policewoman, you’ll just have to clear it with the department of youth services.

They’ll certainly allow it, says the male officer putting a hand on Noura’s shoulder, and don’t you worry about the immigration department. There is absolutely no downside to coming forward as a witness like this for you or for your daughter. It would be crazy if it was permitted to have a negative effect.

Mama stands up.

Can we go now? I have two little kids at home.

Sorry, says the policewoman, we still have to take your daughter’s statement, but the rest can go.

Nico gets up. He comes over to me and starts to open his mouth.

Leave me alone, I say and turn to Jameelah.

Noura stands up.

Come on, she says to Jameelah, but Jameelah doesn’t move, she just sits on her chair with her arms crossed and a blank look on her face. Cautiously I sit down next to her.

Did you hear that, I say, you don’t have anything to worry about. Everything’s going to be fine.

Like in slow motion Jameelah turns her head in my direction. I wince.

Traitor, she whispers while glaring at me. If looks could kill.

Ramadan has arrived. I actually like Ramadan, the men sit zonked out on the benches in front of convenience stores and do nothing but fiddle with their strings of beads with their eyes closed and wait for the sun to finally go down.

It’s funny in school. Half the class is hungry and does stupid shit. Orkhan and Tayfun keep having short outbursts. Today Orkhan tipped his chair over backwards and smashed into the wooden map of Germany the class has been working on and it fell to the floor with a huge crash and when the entire class started laughing Frau Struck was so irate that I thought for a second she was going to keel over.

Everyone is agitated the way only Jessi is normally but then it gets dark and the lights go on all over the city and it’s absolutely silent in the streets, all you hear is the faint sound of laughter and clinking dishes wafting out of windows. Then people start streaming out of the buildings, the women carrying Tupperware containers, people wishing each other happy holidays and the best part is that the children are allowed to stay awake as long as they want. Ramadan is like a month of New Year’s Eves, just with no fireworks. Normally I like it. Normally Jameelah comes by in the evening and brings a plate of rice with raisins and roasted carrots. We sit on the balcony and stuff ourselves, drink Tiger Milk out of a chocolate Müller milk container so Mama doesn’t notice, and think up A-words. Ramadan is an A-word so when it’s Ramadan we take a Ramadan from O-words and switch to A-words, which is tougher, but it’s alright, steering becomes staring not storing and Anna-Lena is Frieda Gaga instead of Frieda Giga, which suits her better anyway and I think Jameelah would agree but this year she and I can’t agree on a single thing because this year we don’t spend a single evening on the balcony together speaking in A-words, Jameelah and I don’t speak to each other at all anymore.

I’m standing in front of Frau Stanitzek’s store with my swim things in a bag smoking a Pall Mall I stole from Rainer. The sun is shining. I don’t like standing here, I look over at the entrance to the building. Where is Amir, I don’t want Jameelah to turn up and see me standing here, I think, making circles in the dirt on the pavement with my flip-flops, but on the other hand if she did turn up I could try one last time to speak to her normally, though the note she left, that was bad, what are you supposed to say to somebody like that.