Chapter 21 Gesamtschule
This is a long chapter, but it is filled with lots of action, dialogue and important events. So kick back with your favorite beverage and enjoy!
Gilbert checked the time. Maria was supposed to be home from school any minute now. Willi was waiting by the door, tail fanning at every step outside their apartment. He imagined her walking along with some of her mortal friends, maybe stopping for snacks in the little downtown area of Neustrelitz. He was glad she had asked to go to Gesamtschule instead of Gymnasium, despite Ludwig's and Lili's wishes; he was even prouder that she had made the same case for attending the comprehensive school that he had made four years ago in Stockholm.1 He went back to his laptop and population reports for Brandenburg.
He heard the key fiddle in the lock and Willi bark. The door banged against the wall and slammed shut. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the old Pomeranian spin and dance for Maria's attention, but his daughter ignored him, running to her bedroom, amber hair and school satchel flaps flying.
"How was—"He began but she called, "Fine, it was fine, everything is fine." Her bedroom door slammed shut. Gilbert recognized that tone of voice; Ludwig had used it, he had used it and he knew it meant things were not fine. He and Willi stood outside her door. Willi pawed and whined, and he knocked. "Maria, what's wrong?"
"Nothing. I said it was fine." Her voice was muffled and thick. Gilbert paused and thought a little. It was her room and Lili had told him that a young female needed privacy; in fact, she had been drilling it into his head for the past two years. But he didn't like how this afternoon was starting. Maybe there was something to the old-fashioned belief that a man's home was his castle, whether it included a furtive teenage girl or not. He opened the door.
"Vati!" Maria screeched. She had an armful of new school clothes, the ones that Lili and Monika had bought for her in Berlin's nicest department stores. She was jamming them into her pillowcase, and the pants, skirts, blouses and dresses that Monika had altered to fit her were scattered all over the floor.
Gilbert hated seeing the expensive, unworn clothes tossed about like cheap rags, but Maria's appearance upset him even more. Her shirt collar was torn and the rest of her outfit was stained with dirt, blood and what seemed to be some dark liquid. Her knees were scraped and bleeding, her hair was a mess, and he could see blood under her nose and a puffy, bruised eye. For a moment, he couldn't see straight; his precious girl, the little baby whose soft unmarked skin smelled of the ocean and pines, had been hurt. He wanted to fold her in his arms, clean her bruised face, and destroy whoever had done this to her, all in one moment. Then he focused back on the scowling teen who was yelling at him to get out as she slammed the door shut. He tried to re-enter, but she had locked it.
"Maria," he yelled through the hollow-core door. "Tell me who did this to you! I'll call their parents, I'll call the police, I'll—"
"You'll make it worse. Just leave me alone." Her voice was cruel, decisive. Gilbert contemplated banging down the door and demanding information, but paused. They were all agitated, even the Pomeranian. He breathed deeply, said, "dinner will be ready in about an hour," and retreated, feeling more useless than he had ever felt on a battlefield.
Maria leaned against the door, hearing her father walk away. She cracked it open and let Willi in. She scooped up the little dog and collapsed on her bed. Now she could let herself cry, weeping into the Pomeranian's thick coat as he peered anxiously into her battered face.
She couldn't believe it; they had been her friends, she had known them ever since Grundschule! Just this past summer, she had gone swimming with them at Lake Müritz, and they had chatted and done silly dances. She even remembered Sabine telling her how lucky she was to get to go clothes shopping in Berlin; they had looked at fashion blogs together! And Sabine had been the one to throw the coffee at her, laughing at her shock and hurt before Anna had pulled her hair and Elke had thrown the first punches at her face and stomach.
She had been too stunned to fight back at first; the three girls had managed to drag her to the ground, tearing at her shirt and skirt, her hair, clawing, punching and kicking at her, while calling her Schlampe, hochnäsig Hundin, even Hure; she had never even kissed a boy, and Elke had bragged about going down on one at a party!2 It had taken Anna pulling her legs up, probably to humiliate her by showing her panties to some laughing boys, to stir her into fight mode. She kicked viciously, sending the other girl staggering and clutching her stomach. Then she got to her knees, throwing punches at crotches and bellies, fighting her way to her feet. Vati's words about attacks and defending herself came back to her mind and she spun on the girls, using fists, elbows and feet to send them gasping and cursing from her. Sabine made one last grab at her shirt collar, and she had grabbed her hand, bending and twisting it back until the other girl screeched in pain. Then she grabbed her Italian leather satchel (Onkel Feli's gift to her)and ran, terrified they were going to follow her and attack her again before she got home.
It was the clothes, she decided. The beautiful, expensive clothes that Muti and Tante Monika had bought for her in Berlin. They had looked at fashion blogs and sites together, studied what the teen movie and television stars wore on and off the set, and what would be flattering for her figure. She remembered how much fun it had been to go to the stores and try on outfits, how she felt like she were in a movie, swinging her shopping bags as she strode down the street with tiny Muti and statuesque Tante Monika. She and her aunt had even teased Muti about buying her a pair of leather jeans, until Muti had primly, firmly stated that that could be a gift from Monika when Maria passed the Abitur.
She should have seen it coming, she thought. Her friends had been too complimentary, too curious about how much her shoes cost or which store she had found that sweater in. And she, stupid, trusting fool, had answered honestly because she thought they were her friends. Tomorrow she would have to go back to see them in classes and the lunchroom; she imagined their faces, the whispers to each other and the insults to her. Worse, others had probably heard their side of the story through texts and tweets. Everyone would be staring at her, laughing at her, viewing her as the next easy prey. Mein Gott, she couldn't do it!
She heard Vati in the hallway, talking on the phone. Probably Muti, she thought. He called for her to get the door, and she unlocked it, ready to talk to her mother. But before she could ask for it, Vati took a photo of her, and snapped to the caller, "I'm sending you a picture of what your verdammt daughter did to mine, so you better stop your whining about damages." Maria wailed in embarrassment and rage and slammed the door shut.
Mein Gott, he was going to make it worse, she thought. Whoever got that picture was going to post it, tweet it and tumble it, mocking her bruised eye, bloody nose and puffy, split lip, not to mention the red puffy eyes from crying. Now they'd call her a baby and snitch, new reasons to attack her. She slumped down by the door, sobbing. Willi propped himself up on her knees and kissed her face, licking the tears. She clutched him to herself, wishing her life was as simple as his.
"Maria," Vati's voice was gentle now. "I'm coming in and I'm going to help you clean up." When he entered, she didn't push him away. She was tired and hungry and her bruises and scrapes hurt. Vati helped her get up and walked her to the bathroom, where he dabbed at her face, knuckles and knees with a cool wet washcloth. He examined her face, looking at the split lip. "I don't think you need stitches," he murmured. "Just some salve and time." He smiled a little as he dabbed some on her scrapes and wounds. "You'll be fine, Spatzchen, unlike that little Hexe, whose wrist you sprained, kesesesese."
"Am I gonna get in trouble?" Maria murmured. She wondered if Sabine's parents were going to call the police or make Vati pay for any hospital fees that their insurance didn't cover.
"Not if I can help it, Schatz. I had to take that picture, so we have proof of what happened to you." Vati handed her a brush. "Dinner's ready and you can tell me what happened. I have a feeling it will be very different from Sabine's version." When he looked at her, some of her embarrassment and anger at him faded. Once again, he was her Vati, strong, clever, loving and protective.
School got worse. Maria saw it the next day after the attack, when Elke, the strongest of her former friends, circled her like a dog gauging its prey, while Sabine (wrist in a brace and sling) and Anna made a great show of whispering about her to other girls and even boys. When it was time to enter the school, Elke shoved her hard against the metal frame and then said, "Est tut mir leid, it was an accident" loudly enough so the hall monitor would hear her.
In classes, an undertow of whispers and snickers dragged her attention away from the readings and exercises. She knew it was about her, more insults and lies, maybe even plans to get her during lunch or after school. She thought some girls just looked curious, maybe even sympathetic, but when she tried to find a place at a table for lunch, there was none. Even the poorer girls and foreign students ignored her inquiring gaze or placed their bookbags or purses on the empty chair.
She finally found an empty table and opened up the bento box her father's friend Japan had given her. She had been so excited when she had received it, along with the set of cups, picks, and cut out tools; she had imagined her anime-loving friends exclaiming how kawaii her lunches were and asking her how she made them. Instead, Anna had sneered "Wie ausgefallen!" and Sabine had pointedly commented that she heard those things were popular among Japanese schoolchildren.3 A couple of girls and boys walked by, peered at her lunch, and laughed, shaking their heads.
That day after school, Maria took a different route home. She was relieved that Vati was busy talking to Onkel Ludwig on the phone, so she could sneak into the kitchen and get some large garbage bags. She went to her room and threw yesterday's pillowcase of clothes into the large bag. She opened her school satchel and threw in the bento box, the food picks shaped to look like gemstones, the pastel silicone cups. She went through her closet and drawers, leaving only her jeans, T-shirts, and hoodies, while she threw her woolen skirts, fine sweaters, and cute short dresses into the bag.
Her phone went off. She saw it was a text from Sabine. Maybe she was sorry, maybe she would still be her friend in private. She read it: U r trndng. Look O.O. Don't, a voice warned her, but she hit the link and found the Twitter feed dedicated to rumors and insults about her. It already had over a hundred followers, almost her whole year-class and then some. People she only knew by name were posting and sharing the cruel lies on their accounts.
Maria threw her phone on the bed and began to cry. She was doomed. Before dinner, she wiped her face with a cold wet cloth, mumbled vague replies to her father's questions about the day, and volunteered to take out the garbage for the next day's pick up. When she did, she snuck the bag of clothes out and threw it in the dumpster.
The bullies were clever. They played within the rules that were only half-heartedly reinforced by the adults. So any shoving, pushing or stepping on feet came with a loud apology for any teacher to hear and an insincere, taunting grin directed at Maria. Others besides her former friends joined in, until it seemed every classmate was against her. During class group work, her partners withheld information such as due dates and refused to share notes with her, saying piously, "The school has rules against cheating, Maria," or "You're so verdammt smart, you figure it out," even though they gladly helped each other. She gave up eating in the lunchroom and sat in a stall in the girls' restroom until a teacher found her and scolded her.
She developed new routes for getting to and from school. She no longer carried her Italian satchel or wore nice clothes, but others still found ways and reasons to follow and jump her. Now it wasn't just Sabine, Elke or Anna, but other girls, who called her names and pulled her hair and scratched at her face and kicked her shins. Once when she threatened to tell on them, Sabine snarled, "You do and you better be really careful when you walk that little dog of yours." She made a slitting motion against her throat. Not Willi, Maria thought. So she kept silent.
She expected the attacks now, and she was better prepared to fight. More girls, even the ones who were stars of their athletic clubs, stumbled away, cursing and threatening her, because she had broken their noses, twisted their ankles, or dislocated their shoulders. She was astonished at how little effort it actually took her to hurt a mortal girl. It became her only consolation.
The most frightening day since the first attack occurred when her original tormentors were joined by two older boys. They had followed her, whispering and laughing, keeping their distance until they were away from school grounds. Then they began throwing pebbles and rocks, stinging her back and head. She started running, only half-aware of her newly planned escape route. When she turned too quickly, she tripped herself and fell. Before she could get up, the pack was upon her, the girls punching her as they dragged her kicking into a cluster of woods in the park. When she screamed, Elke slammed her fist into her mouth.
"Save your breath, Hure," she hissed. "You're gonna need it." Maria tried to kick back, but one of the boys grabbed her ankles. Panic set in, and she twisted and spun.
"Verdammt, she's gonna be a fun fuck!" He laughed and Maria cried, "Nein!" Elke pulled her head back by the hair and said, "No teeth now, Schlampe."
The thinking part of Maria's brain stopped, and something surged up her spine, like a chain of lightning. She grunted and twisted loose, oblivious of the hank of hair left in Elke's fist. Her foot connected with the boy's throat and he spun away, cursing and gasping. She sprang to her feet, teeth bared as she grabbed and snapped hands, poked at eyes. A thick red haze obscured her sight, but she saw real fear in her tormentors' faces before she ran back to the apartment.
She ran past a stunned Vati and spinning, whimpering Willi. "Mein Gott, what's happened to you?" He cried after her. She ran to her room , locked the door and looked at herself in the mirror. Bloody mouth, loose tooth, sore, raw knuckles. The adrenalin receded and she felt the pain in her scalp, lips, gums and other body parts. She wanted to clean herself and get medicine, but she still heard Vati banging on the door and demanding to know what was wrong. Finally, she heard a distant knock, and Vati walked away, grumbling to himself. She darted to the bathroom, but before she could get there, Vati called her to the living room. His voice meant business, so she obeyed.
A local police officer was there, his tablet out to take notes. Vati turned to her. "He says he's here because some parents reported you hurt their son." Vati's lip curled slightly. "Ja. They claim my fourteen-year old daughter, who's being bullied at school, has damaged their seventeen-year old son's throat." His contempt for the complainant was obvious.
The mortal mumbled that he was here to hear their side of the story; he had already heard the others and he wanted to be fair. When Vati turned to Maria, his blood-red eyes darkened to wine. "Tell him the truth, Maria. Tell him what you've been afraid to tell me." And she did.
By the end, the police officer asked Vati to talk to him in private. Maria cleaned herself up and came back to the living room. Vati turned to her. "The officer wants to know if you will press assault charges against the young man and girls." The officer explained to her what the others would face, how long it would take and what her role in prosecuting them would be. Maria listened, but all she heard was: Public hearing. Court. Testify. News. Notoriety. Snitch. Liar. Slut. Revenge. She looked down at her feet and saw sweet little Willi staring at her, white flecking his black muzzle and silver-grey face. He deserved a peaceful old age, she thought. "I don't know," she mumbled.
"You'd be showing those bullies that they can't get away with what they're doing," Vati said.
"They all would be tried in juvenile court. If he and the girls are found guilty of attempted assault, they could do anything from community service to jail. It could impact their futures." The officer added. Vati curled his lip at him, his eyes dark and contemptuous. "Ach ja, we can't keep that fine young man from an awesome career as a bench warmer for a local fußball team." The officer blushed, but then turned to Maria. "Do you want to press charges?" He asked.
She thought of how she could make her case; it would be her word against theirs. Five people's story versus one. The damage she had done, which had made Vati smile as she retold it, suddenly seemed as damning as if she had initiated the fight. "If they don't press charges against me, I won't against them."
The officer shrugged. "Let me call and talk to them." He excused himself and went into the building hallway to make his call. Vati stared at her, incredulous.
"Maria, press charges! Show the little Mistkerle they can't do this to you!"4 He urged. She shook her head. The police officer returned and admitted he couldn't promise anything. Vati snarled, "Then we will press charges! I want all of them, even the girls, charged with attempted sexual assault!" The officer got back on his phone, and this time he told them that the parents were willing to drop all charges and try to work things out with Vati.
Maria looked at her father. His eyes had changed back to red. "Kesesese," he hissed, "I'll gladly talk to them." The officer backed away. Maria offered him some coffee and cake, and he gratefully accepted. Vati called each set of parents, wandering off to his bedroom after the initial greeting. By the time he was done, he smiled pleasantly at the officer. "They have agreed to drop all charges, and they are very sorry for the mischief their children have caused." He swaggered over to the kitchen table and helped himself to cake. "Danke for your patience and fairness, my good sir. What was your name again? Ah, ja, ja, I recognize that. Let me walk you back to your car. Believe it or not, I know your family. Strange, ja?" Vati strolled out with the suddenly nervous policeman as Maria cleared the table and pondered if her father's calls would actually protect her.
That night, Vati declared that from now on, he would walk Willi in the early morning and after sunset. He seemed quite contented as they ate. Maria finally asked, "How did you do it, Vati?"
He smiled at her, rubbing a contented Willi's ears. "Remember, Spatzchen, I was the Democratic Republic of Germany. I know who worked for the Stasi and who collaborated with them and informed on their friends, family and neighbors." He grinned, a sly, knowing look that sent a chill up Maria's spine. "How convenient that some of these kids had relatives who collaborated, whose history could stir up a lot of old resentments among their friends and neighbors. Even our good police officer is not immune." He tilted his head and smiled. For a second, he was no longer heroic, protective Vati, but a cruel, shrewd man who could destroy as well as preserve. "Some nations and states still call me a bully," he murmured, gently stroking the dozing Pomeranian. He stared at her, his eyes dark red. "But I am your bully, Maria. Never forget that." She nodded and withdrew.
Vati had declared that he would drive her to and from school everyday, and even when she had complained about the embarrassment, he insisted that she would never be attacked again. Maria wished she had kept at least one of the thick woolen sweaters Muti and Tante Monika had bought her. The hoodies weren't enough, especially since all her tee shirts were thin and short-sleeved. The fights had stopped, but the taunting and "accidents" in the halls and cafeteria still occurred. Even though it was illegal in Germany for anyone to call another person retarded or insane, the word had spread that Maria Bielschmidt-Vogel was "psycho" and her father knew dirt on everyone's grandparents. Now no one spoke to her in or outside school; even the teachers seemed reluctant to call upon her. But Facebook posts, tweets, and tumblr flourished with rumors about her, her father, and her mother. According to them, her father was the son of a high-ranking Stasi officer who somehow was immune from persecution; her mother had been an underaged girl, maybe even Vati's half-sister.
One morning, Maria heard her father storm back into the apartment, cursing as he scrabbled in the kitchen's sink cabinet. When she followed him out to the car, she saw why. Stasi, Nazi, Lesbischen, Pervert had been spraypainted on their old VW. That was the day she asked him to stop driving her to school. "They don't attack me anymore, Vati," she muttered. He stared ahead, knuckles whitening as he listened.
"Ja, Liebling," he whispered. "I won't let them embarrass you. But the moment anyone hurts you, we're back to the car, ja?" She nodded.
That was also the day she began skipping school. She would walk the route, and go right past the school to the park and woods. Then she'd read on her tablet or use her stylus to draw. She wished she could bring Willi with her, but that would have given it away. She would check the Facebook and Twitter rumors: She was in the juvenile justice system, she was doing tricks in Berlin or Amsterdam, she was in a secret training school for the descendants of Stasi or SS officers. She was in the United States or Saudi Arabia, at a special hospital devoted to turning lesbian thugs into straight girls. She was pregnant with her father's child, she was filming porn in Sweden. She had to laugh at the ridiculousness of it all.
At the end of that week, Vati waited for her, waving his phone. "The school's director called, wanting to know why you haven't been there for a week." Maria didn't even try to lie. She just stared at him, amazed he could even ask the question.
"Isn't it obvious? I hate it there! They all hate me, even the teachers! I never want to go back there again!"
"So what are you going to do?" Vati snapped. "Hide in the woods all day? Let them chase you from an education that you have a right to?"
"Why can't I go to school somewhere else? Why can't we move to Rostock?"
"Because I have to be near Brandenburg for my job, Maria."
"Then let's move there and I'll go to school there or in Berlin," she muttered.
Vati snorted. "Berlin?! You can't handle these small-town bullies and you want to go to school there?"
Maria's frustration bubbled up in her throat. She wanted to throw something at him, send stupid little Gilbird fluttering from his head. "Fine! Then send me to a private school! Or homeschool me! You and Muti have all this free time, you can use it to help me study."
"Free time?! I'm working for your state as well as mine, not to mention representing Eastern Germany for the national and world meetings every month. Besides, Onkel Ludwig has outlawed homeschooling. And," Vati was winding himself up, "why should I pay lots of money for some elitist snob school or religious brainwashing when you can get a fine education for free?"
"Because I'm not getting educated, Vati! I get beat up, made fun of, ignored, gossiped about, and I'm miserable! I hate it!" She began to cry, hot tears of helpless rage. "Don't you see it? We had a police officer come here. They jumped me and they wanted to press charges on me!"
"And you defended yourself, Maria." Vati's voice was cold. "By leaving school, you're showing them they won. You're fleeing the field, when you should stand and fight your ground. Scheiße, you can do more damage to them than they to you! Take advantage of it. Make them afraid of you." He stood in front of her and peered fiercely into her eyes. "I want you to go back to school on Monday," he said crisply. "I want you to walk in there, head high. They try to hurt you? Hurt them back, harder! They mock you for being good at school? Be great at it. They were jealous of your clothes from Berlin? Well, I'll call France or Italy or Japan or whoever you want tonight, and I'll get you a wardrobe that'll make their eyes explode from envy! Stop being on the defensive, Maria," he urged. "Regroup, return to the field and kick their asses!"
Maria looked at him and then studied the floor. He didn't get it, she realized. Clothes from Paris or Tokyo? He was signing her death warrant. "Just send me to another school," she whispered.
"Nein, Maria," He said. "I'm not going to let those mortals think they're better than you. You have to remember who you are. You know what's going to happen ten years from now? You'll be a beautiful, well-educated state deciding the policies that affect their lives. You'll be meeting with other states, your uncle, Germany himself! And those sad little Schlampen will be fat sagging mortals stuck in dead-end jobs or on state welfare, with three kids by two fathers, getting drunk and beaten up by unemployed, shiftless hooligans!"
"Ja, and I'll be representing those sluts and hooligans and their brats for my whole existence. Ausgezeichnet."5 Maria sneered. She looked at her father and saw he had realized his mistake. "I hate it here. I hate the people I'm supposed to care for! I wish they'd all move away or die of a plague or something and leave me alone! I wish I could leave and do what I want!" She finally bolted past him to her room.
That Saturday morning, she was surprised to see Muti enter the apartment, rolling suitcase in tow. Part of her wanted to run to her for a hug and tell her everything; surely Muti would understand how awful girls could be. But another part of her withdrew, suspicious.
Vati took Willi out for a walk, and Muti made hot cocoa for Maria and tea for herself. "Vati has told me things have been really rough for you at school." Maria nodded and sipped her cocoa. "He thinks you should tough it out, but he has to realize everyone is not like he is," Muti continued. At last, Maria thought, someone who gets that. "I know it's going to be hard, Liebling, but if you can get through the end of the school year, Vati and I will arrange to get you into the Gymnasium for next year. There should be a better quality of mortal, and you should all be too busy studying for the Abitur to get into fights and spread nasty rumors about each other."
Maria put her cocoa down. Muti really didn't get it, after all. She was in the Gymnasium-level courses at her school and the kids there were just as hostile as the rest of the students. "It won't change anything, Muti," she mumbled. "They'll still be mean, just smarter about it."
"Ja, but you'll get a fresh start, away from the Gesamtschule," Muti said gently. "It might be tough to be a new student for a little while, but you'll make new friends."
"Muti, you should know better. Kids spread stuff on Facebook, Twitter, and Tumblr. I walk into any school in Germany and all people have to do is google me and see what's been posted, and I'm doomed all over again." Maria slumped in her chair.
Muti blushed; she really did know better. "There must be ways to clear or block that," she mused. "I can't believe it's taken so long for anyone to change the laws regarding privacy and reputation on the internet." She patted Maria's arm with her doll-like hand. "I should have waited to take you school shopping, let you see what the other girls were wearing first before rushing out—"
"Muti, it's not your fault." Maria was resigned. "I just don't want to go to school here anymore. Why can't Onkel Ludwig make an exception and let me get homeschooled by Vati or you or another German state?"
"Because entities are not above the laws their mortals create," Muti replied. "We may get a lot of protections and privileges, but disobeying the law is not one of them."
"Fine," Maria said. "Then I'll get my Mittlere Reiffe and leave at the end of my tenth year. I might as well get started on my real life sooner rather than later."
Muti looked at her, shocked. "Nein, Maria! We wanted you to go to Gymnasium, take the Abitur and then go to university, if you like! Even Vati has said that if you pass the Abitur, you can then study whatever you like at uni!"
"Ja, whatever I want, because it's not like I'm going to use it, anyway," Maria muttered. She saw her mother's green eyes widen with hurt, then get the same hard expression Onkel Vash did when he felt disrespected or imposed upon. She immediately felt bad for her sarcasm. "Muti, bitte," she pleaded, "I don't need the Abitur! Just let me finish up somewhere else, anywhere but here, and I'll do my best! But bitte," she started to tear up, "don't make me do all those years here! It'll feel like prison!"
Muti exclaimed sweet little noises and wrapped her arms around her. At the scent and touch of her mother's body, Mari lost it. She had wanted someone to hold her and tell her that she would be safe, she wouldn't have to fight anymore, that they would fix everything for her. Maybe it was finally going to happen.
"I'll talk to Vati," Muti said, "and I will get him to understand we have to do something different to help you. You deserve a nice bath," she cooed. "I brought some of those scented bath bombs you like so much."
The day passed pleasantly; Muti's presence created peace in the apartment. Maria wondered how someone so small, girlish, and soft-spoken could have such power. Gilbird flitted to her shoulder and groomed himself, Willi happily obeyed her commands, and Vati seemed more gentle and patient than he had recently. After dinner, they played racing games, laughing at the spectacular crashes on the television screen and then Maria decided to go to her room and study and watch a movie.
Through her headphones, she could hear raised voices. That was odd; Muti and Vati rarely argued so loudly. She took them off and leaned against her door.
"I told her she'd be a coward if she did that! She has so much going for her if she'd stop thinking like a verdammt victim!" Vati's voice was sharp and bitter. "She can break limbs without any damage to her! She needs to stop being so verdammt soft and start striking terror in them!"
"Ja, so she can end up in juvenile court? That will ruin her education and her future!" Muti's voice was lower, but the anger was still there.
"Mein Gott, Lili, she'll still represent Mecklenburg-Vorpommern! Who cares if she spends some time in reform school if it's for the right reasons?"
"Beating up the mortals you are supposed to represent and advocate for is a good reason to get in trouble with the law?"
"If it shows the little Mistkerle she's a force to be reckoned with, ja! Lili, look back at all of us hundreds of years ago! We were all thugs, we all would have ended up in juvenile hall or jail if we had been mortals!"
"I wouldn't have." Muti's voice was calm and proud.
"Ach nein, of course not! You were busy in your little mountain castle, burning witches." Vati's hissed.6
A long pause. Maria had never heard Vati say anything so vicious to Muti before. They hate each other, she thought, all because of me.
"That was cruel." Muti finally said. Maria could imagine her expression, dignified but hurt. "And it has nothing to do with Maria's problems in school right now. She has fought and suffered enough and she needs to get out of there."
Vati snorted. "She's rolled over on her back and let them trod all over her. She should be the one attacking them on the way to and from school, she should be causing them to skip classes, she should be ruling the school, striking terror in them and making them beg to be her friend! Those little punks should be worshipping her awesomeness and following her like the verdammt puppies they are!"
"Why, Gilbert? Because your sister Maria would have done that?" Maria detected acid in the edges of Muti's voice.
"You bet she would have! Sabine, Elke, and Anna would be begging to be her best friend! They'd have girl crushes on her! She'd rule those Hündinnen! Boys would be lining up out here to drink her verdammt bathwater!"
"Well, then, I guess we should just throw her back in the Baltic Sea and demand a new daughter." Muti sounded contemptuous and exasperated. "Or how about if we tell her that she has to chose a new name? 'Sorry, Liebling, you are not awesome enough for the same name as Vati's sister! Ja, the same one who has not forgiven him for something he did two centuries ago!'" Her voice was now almost as loud and angry as his. "Nein, nein, she needs a name that proves your point about her weakness! How about Katherine? You always said Ukraine was a simpleton and a crybaby! Madéline? A nice French-Canadian name! How about some Polish loser names? Felikja, perhaps? Adeladja? Anything but the awesome Maria!" Her voice ended on a note of tears and taunts.
"Stop it." Now Vati was the cold, controlled one. "We aren't changing her name. You're being foolish—"
"—You're being foolish!" Muti was crying, but there was a steely anger behind the tears. "You want her to be something she's not, just because of a silly name! She is not your sister returned to you! She is her own being, and if you can't love and accept her personality for what it is and do what is appropriate for it, then you are more foolish than I ever imagined! Gilbert, she is miserable, she is dying inside, she needs to get out of that school. All the scolding and shaming and pep talks are not going to make her become a badass like your sister! We don't have to make her stay there, and we shouldn't!"
A long silence. Maria wondered if she should enter the room and tell them to stop fighting about her, that she wasn't worth it. She was afraid she'd hear Muti go back to Vati's bedroom, packing and leaving for good, abandoning her to a father who didn't understand her and who didn't like what she was.
Vati finally spoke. "Then what shall we do about it?"
Maria heard her mother snuffle and pull herself together. "We will solve it," she said, her voice calm, but still thick with tears. "We will find a solution all three of us can agree upon." The adults dropped their voices to mutters and indecipherable sounds. Maria went back to her movie.
That Sunday, the three of them were silent, immersed in their own laptops and activities. Muti had a sweet yeast dough rising in the kitchen, Vati fiddled with the leaking faucet in the main bath, and Maria studied for an English-language test. Willi migrated from one lap to another, while Gilbird puffed himself up and dozed in Vati's hair. No one seemed to acknowledge there had been a fight or even a discussion of Maria's next school year. It would have seemed quite boring and cozy if Maria weren't afraid this might be the last time Muti was visiting them.
But as they drove her to the train station in Neustrelitz, she turned to them, dark green eyes peaceful. "Maria, Liebling, all will be well," she whispered as she held Maria in her small, strong arms. "I will see you in a few weeks again, ja? We'll go to a local store to get you something to wear for the spring." Maria nodded and finally let her go. Muti turned to Vati, and he wrapped his arms around her, kissing her long and tenderly on the mouth. For once, Maria wasn't embarassed; she was relieved to see such intimacy and warmth between her parents.
The ride back home was silent, disrupted only by Willi climbing from her lap to Vati's in the car. Maria had insisted he come with them, terrified of her former friends breaking in to steal and kill him while they were out.
That evening, after she had gotten ready for bed, Vati knocked on her door and asked to come in. Maria agreed. He sat on the bed next to her, stroking her hair. It felt weird but also comforting, like the way he had soothed her to sleep when she had been a child.
"Maria," he said gently, "Muti and I think we have a solution for you. At the end of the school year, we'll spend most of the summer at the resort towns in your state. I'm going to look for a little apartment or rental house we can get somewhere. But come the school year, you and I are going to live most of the time in Potsdam. On Fridays after school, we'll leave for our little place in Mecklenburg-Vorpommern, to keep you strong and connected to your state." He smiled at her and continued. "Muti found a private school in Potsdam that sounds very good. It's got teachers who are qualified enough to teach in Finland and it's got a great international language program. It has Swedish and American assistant principals who developed an anti-bullying program, and they have a strict no-bullying policy. They have American school-style clubs and sports teams as well. They have a pool for a swimming team!" He nudged her. "How does that sound, Spatzchen?"
"Expensive." Maria muttered.
"Ja, but Muti will help with the fees." Vati's hand rested on her shoulder. "She's actually going to be in Berlin tomorrow, talking to Onkel Ludwig about this." He kissed her head and got up. "Just get through this year, and things will be better. Can you do that?"
Maria thought. Five more months of taunts, shoves, rumors, and cold shoulders. But then there would be the summer at the beach and in the woods, and then a new state and school. She could start over, she hoped. "I'll try," she mumbled into her pillow.
"Gut. Gute Nacht, Maria." Vati left the room, leaving her to memories of the cruel things he had said about her to Muti.
So, a lot of important stuff went down in this chapter. I worry if the situation with the assault and the police officer seems believable; German readers, I'd appreciate any feedback you have about whether that seemed realistic for both sides to drop charges after the parents talked to each other. Everybody, what do you think of Maria's situation and how it seems to affect Gilbert and Lili? Thanks for reading and reviewing!
1 See The Cuckoo Bird chpt. 15 "An Education"
2 German: slut, stuck-up bitch, whore
3 German: unusual, eccentric, outlandish, offbeat
4 German: scumbags
5 German: Excellent
6 There were two waves of witch trials in Liechtenstein in the seventeenth century. The first trials were from 1648-51 and 100 men and women were executed. The second wave was from 1679 to 1682, and again, 100 men and women died.