My brother slipped through the opened door and greets me in the usual way. Poking his head around the corner with a, "whatsup."
I could hear, in the background two or three other people joking and laughing. He had brought friends over. Once again. Without informing me a head of time. Usually I wouldn't mind... actually that's bullshit. I do mind. But what annoys me the most is… <sorry, I had to take this out>.
Either way, this pissed me off. I got angry. And I've been angry far too much these last couple of months. So instead of staying in this house I left. My father had asked me to buy some items he wanted from Germany, that I could bring along to the US next week. So I took this opportunity to do my chores.
After turning off my computer and getting warm clothes on, I stormed to the small hallway to find my shoes. By stepping over three pairs of shoes that were lazily thrown on the floor, I slipped into my shoes just as one of my brother's friends left the bathroom.
"You going to the store?" he asked.
"Nope. Just getting out of here." I replied straightly.
"Right" he said in a way that felt like he was patronizing me. He tried to open the door to my brother's room and found it locked. After a short knock, my brother opened the door with the warm stench of <deleted> flowing out. The friend slipped in and the door was shut and locked.
I threw on my jacket, opened the front door and slammed it shut.
When I am in a state of anger, everything gets me angry. Even little things. One of the reasons my girlfriend and I are having trouble being together these last couple of months. I am just constantly angry. So, when I stormed into the car, the first thing I noticed was the state of it. Trash was everywhere. So, I just threw the garbage out the car and onto the floor, in hope that my brother might notice it the next time he drives the car.
It was around this time, sitting in the car, 92km left in the tank where I began to think where I could go with 92km. How far could I leave my brother behind? Could I just leave the apartment and never come back? Could I just run away from all my responsibilities and live off any money I could get from selling the car? But I am too much of a coward.
I drove out of the parking lot and onto the small streets. I drove the speed limit as I usually do, and as usual every car behind me starts tailgating me. The first thought that comes to my mind is to brake, suddenly. And have the guy behind me crash into my trunk and die. But, I am too much of a coward.
By the time I got to the store, I hadn't cooled down. I still was pissed off. Wishing death upon any and every person who made even the simplest mistake.
Going to the store was a quick in, out. When I got back to the car, only 10 minutes had passed since I left the house. I looked around and thought of what to do so I wouldn't have to go back to the apartment. The grocery store looked inviting, so I decided to get some lunch.
By now my anger had subsided a little. Now, only sadness remained. I dragged my feet through the store, looking for something to eat. After much searching, I found a package of bifi. A cold beef sausage covered in dough. I hadn't had one since I was a child. Without much thinking, I grabbed the package of three, grabbed a bottle of coke and went to the checkout.
While walking to my car, I realized I still have no where to go. I could eat the food in my car, but that's just annoying. Also the bifi would stink it up. But looking at the bifi and thinking of my childhood, I decided to go to the old sledding hill close to where my home was. There, I could eat in peace and reminisce about the great times I spent there.
I threw the coke and bifi on the seat next to me and drove off.
No one was parked at the hill. I was all alone – the way I wanted it to be. I grabbed my nourishment and climbed out of the car. I was greeted with the sweet smell of manure. A smell, I realized then, I hadn't had the privilege of smelling for a long time. I slowly took one step after another, listening to the birds sing, watching the few leaves still left on the branches sway, noticing every leaf I crushed with my feet as I walked across the old, muddy football field. The hill was completely brown from all the leaves that have fallen. They made the walk up very slippery, yet it reminded me of walking up the same hill, in my snowsuit with a sled when I was 7. The top of the hill was very different from what I remembered. While making my way to the bench, I was stepping on broken beer bottles, chips packages, condom wrappers it was truly disgusting.
The bench was in just as bad of a shape. I brushed some leaves off of the front of the bench and sat, uncomfortably on its edge, the only part that was clean. I took a deep breath and opened my package of bifi, opened the coke and took a great bite and swing.
The food wasn't great, but it brought back memories. Memories I wish I could relive. Memories I wish weren't memories, but the present.
"Not again!" a manly voice shouted from behind me.
I turned to see an older man walking up the stairs leading up to the bench. He was rambling.
"You kids constantly come up here and drink and have sex and always leave the city to clean it up, I could..."
He stopped mid-sentence as he looked at me and realized that I wasn't a teenager drinking beer. Although the tacky leather jacket and the long hair did make me look somewhat delinquent-y.
"Oh, I'm sorry. There's just always a lot of teenagers here, making a mess and being loud at night. I just wanted to give them a piece of my mind."
He was a man of stature. Although he was old, I could notice he was a strong man, but he had a kind face. A face, I believed I recognized.
"I understand." I said.
"Is everything okay?" he asked, I guess my sadness was written on my face.
"No, no. Everything is fine. I'm just enjoying the nature."
"I've been on this world long enough to know when someone is lying to me."
He smiled. It was comforting. Maybe I really just needed someone to talk to.
"You're Herr König, right?" I asked, still not completely sure.
"How did you know that?" He was astonished. I laughed to myself, remembering the time I met him when I was 10.
"I met you when I brought you a reward for finding my wallet. I had dropped it on the main street and you found it, brought it to the police and they gave it back to me."
He was looking at me, trying to remember the time but I could see he had trouble remembering. I continued,
"My parents told me, that one usually gives 20% of the money in the wallet as a thank you. But I never had more than a euro in there, so my parents gave me €20 in an envelope to bring to you. And I did."
"You have a good memory." he replied. I still wasn't sure if he remembered the incident as well, but he sat down next to me, no thought for the dirt he just sat on and started a conversation.
"Now tell me. What's wrong?" I looked at him. I didn't want to annoy him with my troubles. It was too personal, too selfish. What does he care?
"I don't know… it's not really that important."
"Well there must be a reason why a guy like you is sitting up here all alone with his lunch."
"Alright…" I said, and I told him everything. I told him about how I was worried about my future, I told him how I hated sharing an apartment with my brother, how I feel like I don't mean anything and if I died tomorrow I'd leave nothing behind.
Herr König listened to everything. Asking me questions and was really interested. I spoke for about twenty minutes and I felt great. But I was overcome with a sudden fear that I had said too much. I just told all of my fears and worries to a somewhat complete stranger. What was I thinking?
We sat in silence for a while afterwards. Looking at the bird in the trees above us and enjoying the fresh air. Herr König cleared his throat as he was looking at the patchy grass in front of him.
"There used to be long grass here. This whole hill had the softest grass I had ever felt. I used to come here and play with my children when they were young, almost everyday." He paused and fixed his gaze on the broken bottles.
"But now... I don't bring my grandchildren here when they visit. Not even when it snows."
"Really?" I replied, "Why can't they go sledding like I used to?"
"No one sleds here anymore."
"What? Why?"
"Well look at this place. Broken bottles, condoms, I wouldn't even be surprised to find needles here. Once the snow comes, it's all only covered. All the sex and drinking happens all year around. This isn't a place for children – hell... it isn't a place for anyone anymore."
He paused again. Then looked at me.
"Listen, this place is a perfect metaphor for life. Things change. What once made you happy will make you sad someday. But you should never forget what made you happy. Embrace nostalgia. That's what I'm doing. I try to keep this place clean as much as I can, so that maybe one day my grand-daughter can play here like her father did."
"Doesn't the city clean here anymore?" I asked, knowing the answer.
"They come, maybe once a month. I written to them to come more often, but they don't. And also, there are certain things that they can't clean. For example, there. See that?" he pointed at a circular patch of dirt where it seemed no grass would ever grow again. "About two months ago some people were up here and started a fire."
I didn't say anything. There was nothing I could say.
"Horrible." He muttered.
He turned to me. I was staring at the ground, thinking.
"But don't you be thinking that I regret life, or that I'm not happy." he was smiling again, "I love life, because of how challenging it is."
"But what if you've already failed?" I replied.
"How do you know you've failed if you don't continue? I had times in my life where I thought I had failed. But I kept on working hard at my life and I became what I wanted to become, despite all odds."
I was confused, so I asked, "What happened?"
He looked off into the distance, with that warm smile on his face. "I was just finishing high school and I had no idea what I wanted to be. But one day I thought about becoming a lawyer. So I did."
"That's it?" I was stumped. That was a great story.
"Of course not. But that time is just a memory for me now. I spent a couple of years working hard, so I can do what I wanted to do later. Which, in my opinion is much better than spending your whole life being miserable."
"I guess you're right."
"So, what is it that you want to do? Do you want to go into filmmaking?" he asked me so precisely. It was like he could read the answers from my face.
"No." I replied straightly.
"What do you want to be, then?"
"I want to be a teacher."
"Then, do it."
I looked at him. Answers were running through my mind, reasons why I can't do it, reasons why I shouldn't...
"I can't." I replied. I looked back down at the grass.
"Why not?"
"My grades aren't good enough to study in Germany, and if I wanted to study I'd have to move to the US."
"Then do it. If you have a chance to do it, why aren't you?" He was asking all the right questions. I was getting more and more annoyed. I knew I have no good reason not to leave and not pursue my career choice.
"Girlfriend." I replied, "I have a girlfriend in Germany."
"Is it serious?"
"Almost three years."
He answered with a sound of understanding and stayed quiet for a while after that.
I broke the silence, "She isn't studying yet, but wants to study in Germany, and I don't know if I should just work in a job I hate for a couple of years until she can support everything and I can stay at home with the kids."
"Is that what you want?"
"Kids? Oh, yeah. More than anything else."
"Well, there you have at least something. Something to look forward to. And if you ever need to make another decision, just think about what will make you a father that your kids will look up to. And make your decision according to that. If you think your girlfriend will want to marry and have kids with a guy who never has had a job, you don't need to look for one."
His last sentence stuck me, deep. I realized that I was not the man someone would want and there was no signs of me wanting to change.
Herr König stood up. The back of his coat was stained with dirt. He looked at me and said,
"Just remember what you're working for and it will become much easier to do. Even if it is picking up the garbage some teenagers left on the ground."
He bent over and picked a couple of pieces of glass from the ground. He stood up straight, smiled and held his hand up with the glass in it.
"See you around." he said and walked down the stairs to his house.
I sat there for another ten minutes, thinking about everything the old man had said. Everything he said was true. I know what I want, I just don't do it for a multitude of reasons. Either I'm scared or I'm too lazy.
I stood up and a bifi wrapper fell to the ground. Without thinking, I picked it up and put it in my pocket, I only realized later that if more people would do the same, maybe Herr König wouldn't have to clean it himself and his grand-daughter and many other children would be able to play up there.
In the car again, I sat, thinking about the conversation. I decided to pay my old street a visit. I hadn't been back there since I moved. The engine turned on and I made my way to my home.
The trip brought back many memories. I was driving on streets I used to walk to school on, or to my friend's house. I remembered little things we did, like playing pokemon on the outside stairs. The way I tried to reconcile two ex-friends to no avail. Or even when I was 16 and the way I was ambushed on my way home from school by little children throwing snowballs.
A knot in my throat began to form as I drove down the street seeing a young me walk beside me, coming home from school. With an absent mind, singing a song to myself without a care in the world.
We arrived at the walkway to my home and my younger self walked down to our home as I watched him disappear in the distance.
I turned the car around and drove back down the street. Another boy was walking the same way, beside me. The same absent mind, the same face, the same body. Yet, he was different. He looked just like me, but he wasn't me. He was my son, walking to school, the same way I did 15 years ago. And I realized something. I could relive my past through my son. Take part in his life, enjoy that life together. Listen to his stories, give him ideas, play with him make sure he realizes how important his life is, and be there for him whenever he needs me, like my parents did.
He disappeared and as I drove on. And I realized that to be able to do all that, I need to become a person who deserves a child first. I need to become someone who a child can look up to and be proud of. And that begins right now. If I want to have children someday, I need to start working on becoming a person worthy of one, right now.
When I got back to the apartment, I wrote a letter to the city, asking if they could clean the sledding hill more often. A little help as a thank you to Herr König for sitting down and talking with me when no one else could.
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