Shortly after the phone rings. The kid stays put while the man answers. When the boy hears that it is Stellas mother calling, he becomes restless. Walks and looks out the window. Sits down at the computer, to almost immediately go get a glass of water. Stellas mother speaks about what she has found out. The man responds and tells the parts he knows. When he exclaims bridge!? the smaller guy becomes scared. He lets go of the glass too far from the kitchen counter. It shatters while the toilet door slams. The tap in the kitchen continues to flow. While the man ends the call he closes the tap. He takes the broom and leaves it by the glass pieces. Then he knocks on the toilet door. "Open, I need to talk to you." No answer. "Come on out, your glass broke." Silence. "I will open the door if you do not come out now." He fetches his tools and opens the lock. "I'm coming in now." At first the room looks empty. Then he realizes that the shower curtain is closed. He sits on the toilet lid. "Tell me about the bridge." A deep sigh behind the curtain, but nothing more. The big guy pulls the curtain. The kid is curled up in the tub. The man is looking straight at him when he says bridge. "Why? You already know!" "No, I do not know." "Yes you do, Stella…" He interrupts the boy. "No, I only got to know that Stella has told her mom that she should ask you about the bridge. So, now I ask you." "I…" Then it gets quiet. "How about coming out of there?"
He hands him a hand. The kid stays. "Not? I have glass to clean up." He cleans the kitchen and mutters a bit when he is sweeping up glass pieces. When he returns to the bathroom the kid has not moved. He squats down next to the tub. "Ok, footbridge or other?" "Other, I…"
He waits a while. Then he waits some more. The kid sighs. "Now, listen I want to know. Start somewhere, anywhere." The boy looks at him. "I said I could!" "Could what? It's going to get crowded, but if you are not get up I'm going in. Then he climbs into the bathtub and squeezes himself down.
The kid's so surprised that he giggles. "What was that you could do?" "Climb! It's crowded here!" "Shall we move into the kitchen? Climb where?" They leave the bathroom. "The bridge by the river." "The railway bridge?" "Yeah, Stella said I couldn't." "You've jumped from the railway bridge?" He raises his voice when he says it. The guy jerks, shakes his head and exclaims terrified "No, I haven't". Before the young guy has time to run away the man puts a hand on his shoulder to make him come to a halt. "Wait, stay here, tell me! Not jumped? No one has jumped?" "No, I should climb, to the mark." "Pretty high?" He nods. "Would all of you climb? No, just you?" Nods. "Would the others be watching?" "Just Stella. She would record it." "Did she?" "Yeah, there was a train." "When you climbed?" "I didn't climb." His voice is almost inaudible. "You didn't?" "No, it was stupid, nasty. I could have become mush." "But ... what did Stella record?" "All! She would show…" "But nobody saw the clip, right?" "I can! But not there!" "What did she use, cell phone? What happened to it?" "It broke." "How? Did you break it?" I took it. I am a thief! I took it! he yells as he bursts into the bedroom and slams the door.
The man stands still, takes a deep breath and pulls his hand over his chin. The sound behind the closed door makes him react. "Stop" he shouts as he takes a few quick steps into the room. He has time to think that it is good with unlockable doors. "Stop, stop!" He catches the wriggling arms and fists. Holding him tight. Feeling the anger in the kid. "Quiet!" The kid stops fighting back, breathing becomes calmer. Without letting go, he asks: "Did she get it back?" "Yes." "In one piece or broken?" "Without images." "Pictures? I thought it was a movie?" "Pictures! Pictures of Stefan!" "Oh? Stella and…" He released him. The kid lets the anger take over and kicks hard on the bed. It hurts, really hurts. He whimpers and collapses down on the bed, holding the foot. The big guy sits down next to him. He lifts the boys chin to examine the red imprint of a hand on the cheek. You can not hurt yourself! You most certainly may be mad, but harming yourself is not..." "Why?" "Because you can hurt…" "Why where their pictures? Why does Stella care about him?" The man feels a bit lost. "It ... I do not know." The boy shouts and hits his fist in the bed where it is soft.
"I have an idea. Wait here... no, follow me." The man feels a little concerned about what might happen if the boy is left by himself right now. The boy hesitant follows him when he takes out a pair of gloves. "Boxing gloves?" "Put them on." The first one is fine, the second demands a bit of help. They are quite large. "Why should I...?" After securing both gloves he holds up a sparring pad. "Now you can start." The guy does a pretty loose punch. "One more time." "Why?" "It is better to get rid of the anger like this." "They are heavy." "That's the point. Tell me about the pictures." "I deleted them." "... and returned the phone?" "I took out the card and the battery thinking that... but I put them back. Pictures, pictures of Stella and Stefan. Only the two of them. Aaaa!"
He hits the pad hard. Really hard, no technique just punches. The pad has no trouble to withstand it. Finally, he is out of energy and sits down on the floor. Breathing reminiscent of sobs. The man sits down next to him and helps him remove the gloves. They sit there in silence for a long time. Then the boy takes a deep breath. "How did you know?" "Know what?" "That it helps with boxing gloves?" "I have done it, when it hurts. It feels to hit a punching bag, but then you don't have to think about other things that hurts." The kid looks at him with big eyes. "There's a lot that can make you feel that way. But to slap your own face…" He shakes his head. "Not!?" The boy shrugs "Alright, okay I won't."