Philipp Winkler - Hooligan

After waiting for ages at a railroad crossing for a single engine to roll by at walking speed, I finally arrive at the hospital in Neustadt. There are no parking spots left, so I have to park next door at the nursing school. The hospital hadn’t changed a bit, only I’m not having to see it in early morning twilight for once. Can remember it exactly. How I always smoked in front of the door, and the block-like hospital building seemed like a huge monster in the bluish light. If Yvonne hadn’t have been there, I’d have wanted to blow my brains out every morning. But she hasn’t worked here for years either. Transferred to the regional hospital in Stadthagen. Can only hope none of the other coworkers from then is still here and recognizes me. I go to reception and ask where Hans Kolbe is at. Without looking up once, the reception lady says I have to go to the second floor. Room 202. Sure, I know how to get there, I say as she starts to explain the way.

I come out of the elevator, and the first thing I see when I turn to the left is Andreas. He’s sitting in the hallway with his legs crossed and is swiping away at his smartphone.

“Hey, Heiko, you decided to show up?”

I ignore him and open the door to room 202. It smells like a mixture of iodine and freshly served hospital grub. I see Manuela straight ahead, wearing a light purple polo shirt. She has a sweater tied around her hips.

“Well, that sure is good news,” she says and places her hand on the chrome bar at the foot of the bed. “Then you can get out of here next week.” I walk around the corner of the bathroom that cuts into the room and briefly greet the group. “Hey,” Hans says and blinks at me over his fork, which is planted in a large piece of gray meat.

Mie sits on a chair between Hans’s bed and that of an elderly man of Turkish or Arabic origin who’s wearing headphones and staring at the television, hypnotized. Mie smiles at me. I walk past Manuela and lean against the windowsill.

“Everything okay here?” I ask.

“The doctor says the operation went well and, with the screws in the bone, Papa will already be able to put weight on the affected side.”

“Great,” I say and tug at my sleeves.

“He’s a quack,” Hans mumbles under his mustache, which covers his upper lip in all its bushy glory. “Have you taken a look at him? That’s a fag, guaranteed.”

“Papa!” Manuela hisses, embarrassed, “that’s not true. And even if, then it’s none of your business.”

“I’m not gonna let him touch me,” he answers and opens his mouth wide to push in a chunk of meat.

“Where’s Damian?” I ask, changing the topic.

“He’s down in the playroom with Andreas.”

“Um… Andreas is sitting outside the door.”

She looks at me with such disgust, as if I’d wiped my finger in my butt crack and was poking it in Hans’s food. Then she goes to the door. Immediately, they can be heard starting to yell at each other.

“Sheesh,” my father says, “trouble in paradise.”

“You would know.” It slipped out of me.

“What do you mean?”

“Never mind,” I say. “Then you’ll be out next week?”

“That’s what it looks like.”

Then no one says anything more. Hans eats his ham or whatever the hospital chef calls that shoe sole. Mie tries to push the cart with the food closer to my father because the fifth pea has rolled under his covers without him noticing. And I push up my sleeves and out of boredom slap my forearm and leave a red handprint on my arm, but it always disappears immediately.

Manuela returns. She slips her phone in her bag. Unexpectedly, she puts on a smile and says, “I have a little surprise for you.”

“Some real food?” Hans asks, and the next pea rolls toward his crotch and leaves a trail of brown sauce on the sheet.

Manuela taps her fingertips in front of her stomach and says, “Mother’s on her way here.”

“What?” I explode. Mie stops fiddling with the table, and Hans lets his fork clatter on the plate.

“That’s right,” Manuela says, “we’ve been back in touch since a couple of weeks ago. I thought it’d be a nice opportunity to bring the family back together again. She’s bringing her boyfriend along.”

My chin drops.

“You’re in touch? You?” I can hardly hold back my surprise.

All these years, my sister has never said a single word about our mother, and now she pulls this out of the fucking blue.

“Are you crazy?” Hans yells, and his fellow patient looks over and timidly pushes his headphones from one ear. “Why are you bringing her here?”

Manuela gives Hans an ice-cold look and says with a bossy teacher voice, “Because. I think it’s the right thing to do. Just look at us! Just look at us! This is no family. All I want is for it to get better.” The authority seeps from her voice and is transformed into an insistent whimpering. “Maybe not like with Andreas’s parents. But a little normalcy, is that too much to ask?”

Hans pushes the table aside, hitting Mie’s upper arm. She squeaks in shock or pain. The fork thuds to the side of the bed and from there to the floor.

“If I can overcome my fears and call Mom, then you could come my way a little! Especially you, Heiko. I thought you of all people would be happy.”

“I don’t want to see the dumb bitch!” Hans bellows. “She’s not coming in here. And no way in hell with her squeeze. I think I’m losing my damn mind!”

Looking for help, Manuela glances my way, but she can’t expect anything from me. Hans continues screaming that he wants to get out immediately, but with every new motion he grimaces in pain and remains prone, completely exhausted, and is still grumbling insults to himself, several for each of us, while Mie pats his arm.

“Out! Everyone out!” he screams. “Get lost!”

“Heiko,” Manuela says and leaves her mouth open.

But I just shake my head. I feel my nostrils flare and suck in a deep breath. Then I push away from the windowsill and very quietly, so it almost disappears under Hans’s curses, say, “You’re all completely crazy,” pushing myself sideways past Manuela so we don’t touch. She turns along with me. “Just leave me alone.”

My sister calls after me, but I slam the door shut behind me. Andreas is coming up the stairs. He’s pulling Damian behind him by the hand. Andreas opens his dirty, untrusting mouth, but before he can say anything, I slam my fist into his face. Not with full force, but hard enough so it’s more than sufficient for him. He falls half backwards. He pulls on Damian’s arm, who yells, “Ouch!” I’m already stomping down the stairs when I hear Andreas yelling after me that he’ll press charges and what all else. He should go ahead. I don’t have anything anyway. That stupid son of a bitch.

Tomorrow’s the day. Tomorrow’s when the boys from Braunschweig will pay for what they did to Kai. Axel filled me in on the crucial details by SMS. The whole thing is going to take place in the passageways of the Ihme complex, as I suggested. At 5 p.m., so we can, in the best-case scenario, follow the broadcast of the game at Timpen. Or the others can. I’ll be getting in my car and driving to Kai in the hospital. And even if we can only follow the game on the radio or internet, I’ll smuggle in some beer and we’ll make a toast, regardless of how the game ends up. And then everything will have come to an end. Kai will be healthy again, we’ll be able to start again. Axel will transfer the leadership to me because I’ve proven myself. Jojo and Ulf will come back, and together we’ll shake up the whole damn scene.

They all stare at me when I come into Kai’s room. Jojo and Ulf are sitting next to his bed. Look at me with googly eyes, as if I were a passerby who’d stumbled into a secret meeting in some random dark alley.