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KARSTEN

April 2017

“I just don’t want you to be alone, son. Especially now, in this difficult moment... Do you understand?”

“Yes, Mom,” I replied, even though her words barely reached me.

I felt so numb...

“It’s been such a long while, over a year. I’m really worried about you, son,” she wept.

“I’ll be fine...”

“I know! But, a mother always worries. It hurts me much to know you’re so far away, and I can’t even hug you! I’ll buy you a plane ticket; what do you say?” She suggested delicately.

“I don’t know... I haven’t made up my mind yet.”

“It doesn’t matter; you can decide later. You really should be with us, son... Once all this is over, please quit your job, and come to Adelaide. We are all waiting for you.”

‘It’s...” I looked away at a large group of people gathering by the church’s entrance. “It’s complicated. I’ll call you later, okay? It starts soon.”

“Sure,” she said quietly. “Be strong, son. I’m so sorry I can’t be there with you today.”

“It’s okay. I can deal with this.”

“I know. You’re so brave, son. I love you so much. Call me later. Or at least text.”

“All right. I love you too, Mom,” I reassured her and hung up.

Just in time, it was precisely ten to ten... I glanced at the guests again. In their black clothes, they were oddly similar to crows. I couldn’t believe that they were all my father’s friends... He was always a loner in my eyes. Perhaps though, I just didn’t know him enough.

We were almost strangers to each other.

And yet, here I was...

I took a deep breath, put my hands in my suit pants’ pockets, and ran up the wide stone steps. I quickly passed by the guests’ group, skillfully avoiding their gaze. Not that they knew who I was, anyways. The majority surely didn’t.

I entered the church’s cold vestibule and saw Uncle Ulrich with his wife, Aunt Marie. Uncle Ulrich was my father’s brother - and my godfather, too. I hardly knew him, though. He lived here, in Chemnitz; I stayed first in Berlin and now, in Dresden.

Uncle Ulrich and I nearly never saw each other, and he only sent me money for more important occasions, such as first communion or confirmation, which I attended despite being an agnostic.

I had a somewhat friendlier relationship with Aunt Marie. She loved posting cards and sent them to my mother every year, carefully writing the names of our whole family, never forgetting to include my stepfather Rolf and my half-sister Judith. Aunt Marie was somebody who always remembered and cared, even though we barely kept in touch.

“Karsten,” she said to me now and attempted to smile, but the corners of her mouth curved downwards instead of upwards. For a moment, I had the impression that she’d cry at any moment. “I’m so sorry about your dad.”

I didn’t say anything.

I had no idea what.

On the one hand, I knew that this funeral was an extremely important event, my father’s last farewell. But on the other... I just wanted to run away and pretend it wasn’t happening at all. It was just too tough to cope with.

“If you need anything, Karsten,” Uncle Ulrich cleared his throat, “you can count on us, always.”

I thanked him not only for these words but also for organizing everything. There was no way I’d be able to...

We left the vestibule and entered the church’s main hall.

“Go sit down,” Aunt Marie whispered to me, slightly patting my right shoulder. “We will go talk to other guests...”

“Okay,” I replied, but seeing the coffin standing between the rows of benches made me feel faint. Once again, I felt overwhelmed by the need to run out and pretend this was just a bad dream...

Nevertheless, I forced myself to come closer. I sat down on one of the benches near the altar, trying to dismiss it as ’a natural course of life.’ But in reality, I was fighting not to fall apart emotionally.

Then, suddenly, someone tapped me on the shoulder. I turned my head and saw my boyfriend, Markus. He looked very attractive in a suit, but the mere fact that he was wearing it, only emphasized that we were attending a funeral.

“Hi,” he greeted me. There was no smile on his face, which was very serious. I could see from his storm-blue eyes, though, that he had much compassion for me. No wonder; he was very attached to his father.

“Hey,” I said simply. “Thanks for coming.”

“Don’t even mention it. Move,” he waved his hand.

I did as he requested me to, and he sat down next to me. When he did, I felt the scent of his new perfume. I didn’t manage to get used to it yet, so it failed to bring me comfort.

“What about Volt’s birthday?” I asked.

“Nothing,” Markus echoed, shrugging. “I told him I was with you.”

“What about the gift? Have you chosen something?”

“Yeah. I got him a Steam gift card.”

“Oh, okay.”

After this short conversation, we both quieted down. I glanced away so as not to look at the coffin again. Markus touched my hand to remind me that he was still there. I appreciated it; I really did - even though things between us weren’t going great recently...

The last summer felt like a wonderful dream. He had unexpectedly fallen in love with me, and after we got together, life became mesmerizing. Each moment, gesture, and touch felt so precious. We kissed in the last tempests of the season, and as autumn started, we moved to Dresden. We took countless long walks around this baroque city, listening to the trees rustling in the wind, holding hands, and drinking takeaway tea - not a single care in the world. I was incredibly in love with him, and vice-versa.

But later, as more weeks passed, things cooled down a little - at least from my side. Somehow, my romantic feelings for him got weaker. I didn’t know why; he hadn’t done anything that would hurt me; on the contrary - he was always a loving boyfriend.

I spent many nights thinking about it and eventually realized I never believed that he wouldn’t leave one day. The longer we were together and the more comfortable we got, the closer that date appeared to be. I couldn’t overcome the feeling that we were together only because we didn’t encounter any real obstacles.

As a result, I was always vigilant, always guarding my feelings and never letting them take too much control over me. I suppressed my love for him, little by little, and now, as we sat in this church together, I realized that it was almost completely gone.

*

The mass was short. The priest neatly ignored the fact that my father never went to church, was an unrepentant atheist, and never cared for his only son. Instead, he focused on the positives: he mentioned that he was a good brother and an excellent worker and that he would be missed by everybody.

Listening to it, I couldn’t overcome the thought that everyone except me knew him very well. This made me feel even more out of place. A part of me just wanted to stand up and leave. But that would be childish; I was better than that. Even if this day was challenging, I had to endure it. I had to suppress my grief, be tough, and keep a straight face.

Markus would probably tell me that this attitude was emotionally unhealthy, and he’d probably be right. After his unsuccessful suicide attempt, he ended up taking recovery into his hands, learning many things about emotions. He often shared his favorite teachings with me, but they didn’t quite resonate... Perhaps, my life philosophy was just too different.

Or perhaps... I was slowly falling apart, which I had been trying to deny up until this moment.

*

After the mass, the coffin was moved into the ornamental funeral car. Half of the guests took the bus to the old cemetery, but Markus and I would get there in Uncle Ulrich’s car.

When the more distant family saw us together, they didn’t ask if we were dating, but it seemed pretty obvious - my father had been gay all his life, except for that one failed love story with my mother...

We walked into the parking lot. There, I noticed a familiar silhouette.

“Ilse?!” I exclaimed incredulously, wondering if it was her or another girl with short, matte hair. But then, she turned around, making her short black dress flow on the wind; and our eyes met, and, I knew, it was her.

“Karsten, Markus, you are here!” She started walking towards us, stumbling every now and then in her heels, which were definitely new and already managed to hurt her feet.

“What are you doing here, Ilse?” I asked her. “I thought you were working today?”

“I took a day off. I thought I’d be on time for mass, but it didn’t work... The train from Berlin to Dresden was late, and as a result, I missed the bus to this town...” She complained, then paused for a moment to glance at my boyfriend. “Why haven’t you told him I’d be here?”

“I wanted to do it today, but there was no opportunity... I was late myself, sorry,” Markus excused himself. “I overslept this morning.”

“In any case, thanks for coming,” I said gratefully and added: “You look damn sad in black, Ilse.”

“You too,” she replied quietly, taking a step forwards. As she reached out to embrace me, I noticed that she was wearing her favorite obsidian bracelet with her favorite chess piece, the queen. She hugged me, and as she did, I felt somewhat more alive... It’s been such a while since we had last seen each other. “My condolences. What exactly happened?”

“An aneurysm,” I said blankly. “The coworkers called an ambulance, but by the time they arrived, it was over.”

“Jesus... Such bad luck,” she shook her head regretfully. “He was still young, yeah?”

“Uh-huh. Only forty-seven years old.”

“Karsten, your uncle, and aunt are on their way here,” Markus pointed out, then looked at Ilse. “Are you coming with us?”

“If there’s a free seat, then yes, please.”

*

As we walked through the cemetery’s iron gates, strong emotions came back, making me feel worse. I blinked my eyes and looked at the blue sky. It was a beautiful day, the sun was shining, and there was a light, cool breeze...

Of course, I didn’t notice a stone in the path and had to trip. Markus and Ilse both grabbed me by the forearms just in time.

“Careful!” Markus warned me.

“Are you okay?” Ilse asked.

I didn’t answer anything; I was far from OK, but I didn’t let it show.

We walked towards the empty tomb. I had to separate from them and then stand next to my family. The priest said the last prayers over the coffin, which was then lowered down into the grave.

Then, the cemetery workers covered the grave with slabs, and my relatives laid their flowers on it. Several hugged me, even though we’d seen each other maybe twice.

*

Afterward, everything happened very quickly; we went to the funeral meal, and later, my aunt and uncle drove the three of us back to Dresden. Ilse managed to catch the last train to Berlin; Markus and I went to his apartment. I rented my own separate room, but I didn’t want to be there alone. I spent the past few days there upon receiving the news and felt myself going crazy.

At night, I stood in the shower for about an hour, trying to wash off that whole awful day and pull myself together. Of course, it didn’t help; but maybe sleep would. I left the bathroom, wearing fresh clothes belonging to my boyfriend - and toweling my hair - when I saw Norbert, the white cockatoo, sitting on the perch.