The phone replaces itself with a ring. Lola streaks down the corridor, paying no heed to the whining voice drifting from the lounge. The staircase is a blur as Lola speeds down it, aware of a subtle tick-tock echoing in her ears. Perhaps she should have taken the elevator?
But there is no time.
Her feet barely hit the pavement along the street as she flies down it. Tick-tock. Tick-tock. Is that the sound of her heart or is it in her head? No time to think. Just run.
As she zooms around a corner, a sea of black and white appears in front of her. She runs straight through the nuns, but one grabs her attention. The one wearing sunglasses.
The Neuigkeiten, Issue 22020th July, 1999
Nun falls short of LightA nun ended her life at St Helga's Cathedral yesterday evening.
Sister Hazel Pietra, 41, jumped from the sixth storey of the building and died instantly.
"She did not despise her life", said fellow nun, Sister Franka, "but she often said that living is a waste of time. I think she ended her life so that she could be with The Lord in His eternal garden much sooner than was naturally meant to be."
A memorial service for Sister Hazel will take place on Sunday 25th at St Helga's Cathedral.
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The sound of furious pedaling approaches Lola from behind.
"Hey, do you need a bike?" A man riding a shiny bicycle now pedals alongside her.
Tick-tock. No time to stop and barter.
"No." A flat reply.
"Suit yourself." He disappears around the corner. Lola concentrates on her path straight ahead. Tick-tock. But doesn't a bike move much faster than flurrying feet? Couldn't she reach Papa sooner?
Wait!
She tears down the street to her left, her vision a blur. The vague image of the man on his bike is drawing nearer. He veers off the road and stops. She stops in front of him. He stares at her expectantly. Tick-tock, over in her head.
But wait. Her eyes shift to a tramp on the curbstone. He digs greedily into a bulging bag.
A tramp. A bag.
Something clicks. She approaches the tramp and peers inside the bag. Piles and piles of notes! The tramp clings protectively to the bag, eyeing her warily.
Tick-tock. She must act fast. No time to lose.
"Is there 100 000 marks in there?"
The tramp is astounded. Lola kneels down so that their eyes are level.
"Look," she demands, impatience seeping through her blood. "This is my boyfriend's money and possibly the only thing that can save his life today!"
She stares harshly into the tramp's eyes. Tick-tock. The sound reverberates through her head.
Then his eyes shift hungrily to the man with the bike, now gulping down a beer from the store.
An idea.
"I'll buy you that bike."
The tramp is interested.
Lola spins around. "How much do you want for the bike?"
"100 marks"
She fishes in her pocket and produces 99 marks 20. "Is that enough?"
"Yeah, that'll get me home happy," he replies and orders another beer.
Berlin Police File Report: Hans KristoffDate: 5th July, 1997
Event: casualty drunk prior to event
Crossed road against red light
Ambulance swerved to avoid casualty and hit tree with full impact
All 4 occupants of ambulance dead
Action taken: casualty taken to emergency ward
Injuries to head and forearm, concussion
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Lola steers the bike to the tramp. He hesitantly exchanges it for the bag.
"Thank-you," she says sincerely, before taking off down the street once again.
Tick-tock. The beats are getting faster. But she has the money. She has the 100 000 marks.
Manni, I have it!
* * * * *
A distressed Manni steps out from the phone booth. He glances at the clock.
11:53
Let her come in time, please. And with the money.
He hands the phone card to the blind woman leaning against the booth.
"Thanks." He starts to turn, but she grasps him around the wrist.
A tramp on a bicycle passes serenely by.
The tramp. The bag.
He cannot see it, but he knows it is there. With a thrust, he gives chase after the tramp.
"Hey!"
The horrified tramp pedals faster. He leads Manni through a whirr of parallel traffic.
They approach an intersection at full speed. Manni does not see the oncoming grey car until it is too late. The tramp speeds through. But Manni is not so fast.
No time to escape. The grey car strikes Manni's body with a dull thud.
* * * * *
Lola sprints along the road, tightly clinging the bag. Tick-tock. Time is running out.
I'm coming, Manni.
A red ambulance drives alongside her, its siren blaring. They both slow down as a slide of glass is carried across the road. So fragile.
Lola reaches the back of the ambulance and disappears inside it. She turns.
Manni!
He is lying unconscious on a stretcher, blood everywhere. A heart monitor beeps irregularly.
"What are you doing here?" A paramedic tries to maintain Manni's heartbeat.
Lola sniffs back tears in disbelief. It can't be. The bag falls from her grip. She takes Manni's lifeless hand in hers as tears fall freely over it. It's not fair! It's not his time to die!
The vehicle suddenly swerves violently, throwing Lola to the floor. It crunches into something solid. Lola feels the deafening blow of Manni's stretcher to her forehead. Her body rolls over. The doors burst open and a familiar black car speeds past.
Through the taste of blood trickling from her forehead, the strike of 12 from the town clock echoes in her mind.