Page 55 - AIT0117_E-Paper

Redings Essay

HARE FUR AND HYACINT

often: “I’ll bet that I will get the motorbike driving licence in three weeks!” She did covered, for a short moment, her reflection in the glass tabletop. “I’m getting old...,”
it in two weeks. “I’ll bet that I will swim in the sea right now!” She swam in the she muttered in a low voice. I don’t think that she wanted me to hear these words.
North Sea, at plus five degrees. “I’ll bet that I can walk on the ridge!” She walked “I’ll bet that I can show you at least five stores with genuine heart and soul!” I shout-
on the ridge, lost her balance and climbed out of the rain gutter with several bruises. ed with a lot of positive energy in my voice. She looked up. “You already lost,” she
Back then in Sydney I heard her say it for the first time: “I’ll bet that ... I can beat said and shook her head. “Well, I need a cactus, a winter hat, a long yellow button
him!” She beat him. Caro returned to Germany, moved to the Wendland and bought for my 70s blouse, sheet music of Reinhard Mey songs and magic ink.” “Uh-huh,” I
an ivy-covered farmhouse. Once a year she visited me in Berlin. “I’ll come here so replied. So we set off.
that the ivy does not become too much for me,” she said at the station as she got “I’d like to have a cactus which is so small that it still fits into the pocket of my jack-
off the train: “This time I won’t buy a thing. For sure.” It never worked. One time she et.” Outside, the evening rush hour traffic struggled through Wollankstrasse in
discovered a colourful piece of textile in a fashion store, for which I had not invested Berlin-Wedding; inside the store, cool neon lights gleamed, it smelled of fresh roses,

more than one Euro if it had been a potholder. This is a top, she explained, put it hyacinths, flower fertilizer, and cleanliness. Caro looked at me and whispered:
on and, well, of course, she looked fantastic. The following year Caro did not come “Blumen Blümel? They made this up, didn’t they?” “No, that has been the shop’s
to Berlin. She called me. She has had an accident with her motorbike. Nothing seri- name since 1875,” I replied. “Have you been here before?” “No, but it says so above
ous, only a few scratches. But she had to have a rest. She also did not come the year the shop window.” Caro nodded. “Blumen Blümel? You are really called Blümel?”
after. This time without giving me a call. And the same thing happened the year after Sometimes, Caro was pretty direct. “No, that’s the name of the former owners.” The
that. The Wendland was more beautiful, the garden, the farm, the ivy, enough rea- two women behind the counter laughed: “I am the proprietor, my name is Kurt, and
sons not to go to Berlin, I thought. Then the phone rang. “I am at the main station. the lady next to me is my employee, Mrs Andriadze.” Mrs Andriadze pointed at a
Do you come and pick me up?” I was late, and Caro was already waiting in the rain. 1960s shelf: “The cactuses are over there.” Not only the shelf, everything in here,
We went to a nearby café, a Segafredo or Starbucks coffee shop, to warm up. “There from the terrazzo floor to the shop windows finished with Solnhofener slabs dated
are no real shops anymore, only these stupid chains.” Caro sullenly stirred the coffee from the Konrad Adenauer’s years of government. “Has this place ever served as a
in her cardboard cup. “There is no heart and soul anymore. Shit.” It did not sound shooting venue?” I asked. “Not,” answered Mrs Kurt. “You you rent out the store for
funny, not even ironic. It sounded almost grumpy. “Do you need milk?” “No,” she parties, as event location?” She looked at me in surprise. “No.” “Do you think this
replied. Only now, in the light of the table lamps, I noticed the change in her face store is seriously cult?” “Cult,” Mrs Kurt smiled almost apologetically. “It is a bit
when she moved her fingers through her wet hair. A scar ran across her forehead old.” Caro bought the cactus and three roses, full and red. “It’s cool that your old
and a second, smaller one across her chin. Not especially deep, not especially wide, flower shop still exists,” she said. “Yes, but only for another month, then we will
but two scars – in her face. “Of course there are still beautiful, old stores in Berlin, close it. Forever!” answered Mrs Kurt and lovingly wrapped the roses in paper.
full of heart and soul. You only have to look for them.” “Nonsense! There’s nothing A button is not a button. A button is a symbol. Doesn’t it always look like a face, a
like that. There are only these stupid chains where everything looks the same. It smiling one? With the thread holes looking like eyes and the edge like a mouth? Or
looks so stupid.” Caro pushed the plastic milk jug this way and that way and dis- a symbol of the Earth, circular and able to keep the most contrary things together?

AIT 1/2.2017 • 055