Philipp Winkler - Hooligan

Kai and Ulf are the first to turn away and go back to the road. That relieves me too. Relief sounds brutal in this context, but much as I’d like to express my respect and grief, the fact that I’m standing here is just so much fucking torture. I sneak a glance at Jojo, who’s standing next to me. He’s stock still. Doesn’t make a sound. But his upper body is racked by soft shudders. As if he had hiccups. I look at his face. His eyes are pinched tight. His lips are rolled inside his mouth. I can’t stand it, so I leave him with his little brother for a moment.

We’re standing in the middle of the cemetery with our hands on our hips, looking at the ground or up in the sky. Huffing away in the hope it brings some relief. The worst thing is it was only the first half. We’re still waiting patiently for Jojo. He should have all the time he needs. We’re only a couple yards away. Then he finally comes over. As he takes an obligatory deep breath, I place my hand on his shoulder and press tight.

“Well, then,” he says with a cough, picking up the bouquet he’d set down when we’d arrived, and goes ahead of us to the next row of graves.

No one could have guessed beforehand how all this would play out. Which is why, at the time, it wasn’t possible to find two graves next to each other. Which is why Jojo and Joel’s father are one row over.

It’s a large tombstone. “Dieter Seidel” is engraved there. There’s still space on it for his mother’s name. That’s fairly macabre. What must it be like for Ruth, Jojo’s mother, to come here every day? To her son’s and husband’s graves, and see the extra space on the stone. Jojo positions the bouquet, briefly pausing in a crouched position, and asks us for a lighter. Kai hands him his, and Jojo lights the votive candles spread across the grave that have gone out. He very carefully removes the lids, tilts the candles, fills them with flame, and then sets them back down using both hands. Doing some things with both hands is much more respectful than with just one hand. Shaking hands, for example.

The clouds slowly start to dump on us. The thunder has already moved closer. I catch Ulf sneaking a quick glance at the sky. Then his eyes look straight at the ground.

This time I’m the first to leave the grave. It takes unbelievable strength to be the first. You don’t want to seem as if you want to quickly put the whole thing behind you. But I can’t leave this burden on Kai and Ulf. I take the first two steps backward. Then I turn around in a fluid movement, making the rocks squelch under my soles, and go to the main gate. I wait to smoke until Jojo is back with us.

We make plans for the evening, in the gambling hall. Blow some money, that’ll help, Kai says as we climb in. The first thing the ones in the front seats do is rub their faces.

On the way home from picking up some cans and frozen pizza at the supermarket, we gradually shed the heavy cloaks of grief. Have to somehow. And Kai tells us, with growing excitement, he has something to show us later that’ll drive us crazy, but he doesn’t want to reveal any more now.

“Wait till later, dude. I want to present my discovery to all of you. It’s fucking awesome.”

We’re sitting at the bar in the Midas gambling hall, which is located in a former supermarket behind a Mongolian buffet. For the hell of it, to try something new, we’re drinking the traditional beer from Cologne in the typical miniature, kid-sized glasses. It’s still early in the evening. The constantly ringing, blinking machines on the walls are just sparsely manned. The rows of lights divide the hall into islands of red and blue. Where no light falls, it’s so dark you can hardly see anything. You can tell the newbies by the way the first thing they do is fall on their faces in the areas where there’s no lighting.

Jojo walks in. We immediately turn and wave him over. He orders a cup of coffee. It’s surprisingly good here, for a gambling den.

“Coffee? What’s wrong with you?” Kai asks, but I quickly punch his bicep so he leaves Jojo alone. I lean back a little to be able to see Jojo, who sits down to the right of Kai and asks: “Where’d you leave fat Ulf?”

“Had to go home. Saskia had something planned. Who knows what?”

“Well, great.” Kai slams his palms on the bar, which makes the barmaid glare at him, and he waves a kiss back at her. “I discovered something really awesome. I wanted to share it with all of you.”

“Spit it out, whatever it is. Don’t piss me off, Kai!”

“All right.”

He raises his hands as if he were surrendering. Then he pulls out his iPhone and goes into the Facebook app. He has his head over the phone. Pulls back conspiratorially.

“Come a little closer…. Closer ,” he whispers to us.

So we moved closer to him.

“Not so close, Jojo. You have coffee breath.”

“Go fuck yourself, asshole.”

“Come on,” I say, “either you show us the pussy you nailed or I’m going right back to the machines and make myself poor.”

Kai giggles and grins with his shark-like grin.

“It really is a pussy, just not like the one you’re thinking.”

He enters a name in the Search function that doesn’t ring a bell for me, and then shows the profile page of the person he was looking for.

“Yeah?” I say. “Some random asshole.”

“Really, Heiko,” he shakes his head back and forth, pretending to be insulted. “Then take a closer look, please.”

“What am I supposed to…,” and now the scales fall from my eyes: “All right, okay. Then just some random asshole from Braunschweig.”

Kai moans and says, “Dude, do I need to press the phone into your pupils so you finally get it? You can’t tell me he doesn’t look familiar.”

I take another look at the profile picture. Blond, side part, short hair. Stupid druggy grin. Disgusting wart on his cheek. I recognize it as one of the hooligans from Braunschweig.

“Yeah, fuck me,” escapes me.

“Let me see,” Jojo says, and Kai passes the iPhone to him.

“But what does it mean? That you’re going to the other side, you traitor? That the heart in your chest is changing colors?”

“You’re kidding me,” he says with laugh. “Nah. A classmate of mine was born in that filthy town. I’ve been stalking her for a while on Facebook. Of course, I’ve been checking out her friends too, if there are a few hot ones there, and then I notice his infamous face. And this is where things get interesting: typical Braunschweig. Of course, the dickhead is too stupid to keep his profile private. It’s all Greek to him.”

“Do you even know where Greece is?” I ask.

“Shut the fuck up! Anyway. He’s one of the people who are constantly posting pictures and have to inform everyone where they go to drink and everything. With links to friends and place. The whole fucking program!”

Jojo returns his phone and says: “You don’t mean—”

Kai interrupts: “Yes, indeed, my dear Watson. That’s exactly what I mean.”

He turns his head from me to Jojo and back. His mouth is gaping with euphoria.

“What do you think? Should we teach the stupid idiots a lesson in data management?”

I hook the wings of my nose between my finger, drawing a breath between clenched teeth, and say, “Let’s get something straight: you want to go to Braunschweig. To Braunschweig . And mess this guy up bad?”

“The scales have finally fallen, you genius.”

I reach for a beer from the tray and walk over to the wall of machines.

“What?” Kai asks, and I turn toward them again.

“You’re probably wondering what Axel would think about a stunt like that. He’d be heating up hell for us! He’d kick our asses so hard we’d have to clean the shit off his boots afterward.”