E.B.E. 21- the Hunt

by Peer Lehregger

  The cell-phone man decided to personally shoot a bullet into Rachmiel's skull on occasion.

  The cell phone man decided to fall asleep and fell asleep.

  Hannes actually said, "Fuck you, come on." A few seconds later, he felt sorry. He had actually, the cell phone man missed that, grabbed Ibby's hand and dragged her on. He was going to get the bags off the bus and go home.

  They sat wordlessly in the tram, then went wordlessly up the stairs to the apartment, in the apartment Ibby disappeared in the bathroom, and Hannes exhaustedly dropped all the bags. He took off his jacket and shoes and went to the kitchen. Somewhere, he knew, there was another beer. He let the remark of the man who had apparently saved her from disaster go through his mind again. So Ibby understood him when he spoke.

  Ibby understood the German language. Then she could certainly speak too, Hannes thought, or write. Understanding a language means more than just hearing. Or is it? Can you understand a language without speaking it? Hannes wasn't sure. He drank his beer and waited for Ibby. It was dead quiet in the bathroom. Hannes got up, went to the bathroom, stopped outside the door for a moment and then knocked. A soft whistle sounded.

  Hannes went back to the kitchen, sat down. Yes, he did, he thought it would work. You can understand a language without speaking it. But reading? What about reading? Hannes remembered his question where Ibby came from. Ibby had added some numbers in the course of the conversation, though clumsily and apparently under difficulties, but at least. Writing and reading the language, coupled with listening, meant more than rudimentary understanding.

  But and this was the poodle’s core, did it mean that if Ibby asked her anything, he would always tell the truth? Suppose Hannes thought the man was telling the truth. Then this meant that he, Hannes, had made a fool of himself with acting because she also understood the words that he, Hannes, had spoken during all the acting.

  Hannes drank his beer dry and waited for Ibby. After half an hour Ibby came out of the bathroom and sat down at the kitchen table. Hannes found that her eyes had lost the sparkle. Otherwise, there was nothing to read in her face, she looked at Hannes. Hannes thought about how to start. To the question 'Do you understand me?' there were two answers. Either nod, that is to say yes, or shake your head, that is to say no, or no reaction and everything would be open again.

  Besides, it could be that, according to his consideration, the disclosure of this little secret would damage or destroy their established closeness, if not even trust.

  Hannes decided to take his chances.

  "Do you understand me, Ibby?"

  Ibby hesitated. Long-time. Then she nodded.

  Hannes was frightened, even though he had expected it. He didn't know what to ask next at first.

  Then he asked the question that seemed most important to him.

  "Can you speak my language?"

  Ibby shook his head.

  "Are you from this planet?"

  Ibby shook his head decidedly.

  "Is your home planet 12 light-years from here?"

  Ibby nodded but made a rocking motion with her hand. Not exactly 12 light-years.

  All right, Hannes thought, fuck the dog.

  "Ibby, do you know why you've always been the trunk of the black car? The one I found you in?"

  Ibby nodded.

  "Can you tell me why you were in there?"

  Ibby shook her head, then, after a moment of reflection, she made the gesture of gossip with one hand, pointed to Hannes and then drove her flat hand over her throat. Hannes understood.

  "Ibby, did you know the man at the Christmas market?"

  Ibby nodded, then made the gesture of gossip. hearsay, rumors.

  "Are you in danger?"

  Ibby shook his head. Hannes didn't understand.

  "Why not?"

  She pointed to Hannes, then to the floor. It took Hannes a moment to understand.

  "You're not in danger because you're here with me?"

  Ibby nodded.

  "And when you leave?"

  Ibby didn't respond.

  "What if I kick you out?"

  Ibby pointed to herself and drove her flat hand over her throat again.

  "If I kick you out, are you dead?"

  Ibby nodded.

  "Can you write?"

  Ibby shook her head. Hannes didn't believe her about this, but he didn't want to let it depend on it now.

  "Ibby, one more question. Do you like being here? With me?"

  Ibby smiled, then she nodded.

  "But not only because you're safe here?"

  She pointed to Hannes and made a strange gesture: She raised both hands to her chest and made fists, opened them and closed them again, several times, then she pointed to him. She smiled when she realized Hannes didn't understand her.

  "What are we supposed to do now, Ibby?"

  She crossed her legs, sat diagonally at the table, supported her head in her hand and looked at the clock, bored when played.

  "Wait and see?"

  Ibby nodded.

  Hannes was lost in thought. Ibby looked at him. Was he angry with her? Had this information of the unknown man disturbed the relationship between her and him? What did he say to her? No, not really. Actually, the situation was amusing, from now on it offered more comfortable possibilities for communication. He looked up.

  "Ibby, I'm tired, I want to sleep now. It's all too much for me. I have to think," Hannes said and wanted to get up. But she didn't want that, pointed to Hannes, then to his chair.

  Hannes truncated but stayed seated. Ibby jumped up, left the kitchen, closed the door and dug into the hallway, then went into the bedroom.

  Hannes heard them and slapped his hand in front of his face. He knew what was ahead of him. He was the rock-solid conviction that every, but also every, female being, no matter what species they belonged to throughout the universe, was practicing this, which would inevitably come, in one form or another. He didn't know at that moment whether to laugh or cry.

  So, Hannes sat on the kitchen chair for another two hours and let Ibby show her the newly bought jackets, trousers, coats and underwear in any combination.

  The big ones

  After the fashion show, which Hannes had survived with difficulty and necessity, and Ibby cleared away the clothes, he went to the bathroom, took a shower, put on fresh underwear in the bedroom and went to bed. He turned off his bedside lamp and rolled around the bed a few times before he found the right position to fall asleep lying on his side. Ibby came into the bedroom a moment later, crawled under the blanket and snuggled up to Hannes back. He grunted half asleep but felt a claw from Ibby that simply cut his undershirt, then cut his underpants, pushed the fabric forward from his back and, apparently pleasurable, continued to cuddle him. He felt her breasts on his back and finally sank into a deep sleep.

  The other morning was a real winter morning in Cologne. Hannes woke up, looked at the alarm clock, already half-past nine, but daylight was hardly visible. He got out of bed yawning, dropped the cut pieces of laundry on the floor and pushed the curtain to the side. A grey, cloudy day, it seemed to be cold, the wind howled around the houses, snow giants swept through the air, brown slush lay on the street and on the sidewalks, few people were to be seen. If you didn't have to go out, you didn't go out. And those who had to get out in spite of everything hurried to the supermarket or the baker with their umbrellas facing the wind. Dogs that had to be walked hurried to do their business.

  Hannes looked at the street, the grey sky and went back to bed. He lay down with Ibby again, pulled the blanket over his head and tried to fall asleep again. Ibby also woke up when he lay down with her, looked at him briefly, Hannes hardly believed it, an alien with sleep-drunk eyes! It looked funny when she blinked, but she closed her eyes again and pulled him in. A pleasant feeling of closeness permeated Hannes. She kissed him on the nose, turned around and went back to sleep.

  Both of them woke up later in the morning. An incredibly loud rumbling ro
ared through the stairwell. Hannes needed a moment to really wake up, but Ibby sat straight as a die in bed and listened. The noise in the stairwell indicated that something heavy must have fallen down. Hannes jumped up, dressed hastily and went to the front door, looked through the spyhole. He saw the neighbor from the floor above him, as he hastily hasted a chest of drawers to Hannes door with another man. Seconds later the neighbor scurried past the spy door with a weepy face and a large flowerpot. Hannes clipped. He had no further contact with the neighbors on the fourth floor, they greeted each other when they crossed each other in the stairwell or outside the house, but otherwise, there was no further contact. The couple was already living in the house when Hannes moved in, it was quiet, Hannes never had any reason to complain about noise or the like.

  This move seemed strange to him, almost overhasty. He put on his shoes and jacket. When the neighbor, Jens or so, came up the stairs again, Hannes opened the door, stepped up to him and asked if he could help, he, Hannes, had the impression that the two were in a great hurry. Jens stopped, put his arms to his hips, stretched himself. "Nice man you want to help," he said, "but we're almost done. Did we wake you? I accidentally banged a corner from the dresser onto the steps. I'm so sorry!"

  Hannes shook his head. "I've slept far too long. Come, I'll help you." The man shook his head. "Not necessary. We're almost done." "Do you want coffee?" Hannes asked. Jens thought about it, then nodded. His girlfriend or wife, Hannes didn't know, came along. "I'll make you a coffee. I'll bring him out, though. It looks like a sow to me." Jens grinned briefly, Hannes went into his kitchen, made two coffees and went to both of them. He gave them the cups and said: "You are early! Where are you going?" Jens slurped on his cup. The other man came up the stairs, passed the three with a disapproving look and went on to the fourth floor.

  "You know, man," Jens said quietly, "we had to take bang off in case. Own consumption from the Big Boss. It all happened really fast. We even got a new apartment; the recommendation is from her. The new apartment is bigger, better neighborhood, but cheaper. I think it's good, but Franziska ...", he pointed with his chin at his partner, "hangs on the hut here. She's always got something to complain about." Hannes saw Franziska's crying face. "She thinks it's a trap. Hah! A trap! We checked out the new apartment yesterday. Really nice! The condition was that we move today. They even got a van and a helper. And: I've seen the next tenants. Yo, dude, they were really strange. That's funny. Like they don't belong here."

  Hannes frowned. "Creepy..." Hannes said to himself.

  "Yes exactly," Jens continued, "Franziska said the same thing. She saw them, too. Franzi said they look like people, but not the way people are, like ... copies. Yeah, copies, decals. Do you understand?"

  Hannes nodded slowly; his alarm bells started ringing.

  "Franzi said they definitely want us out of here right now. "For some weird business."

  Franziska nodded and gave Hannes the cup back. She had hardly drunk anything. "They were so big. Real big and strong men, didn't say anything, just looked around. A little man like that spoke. He was also really funny," she said and went up the stairs to her apartment.

  "Franzi should be happy," said Jens and handed Hannes back his empty cup. "Better apartment, short way to work, cheaper, prettier... And if weird guys move in here: Not my problem. Thanks for the coffee, man. See you!" That was a classic dismissal, Hannes thought, nodded, and went back to the kitchen with the cups. He turned it off and went into Ibby's bedroom. "The neighbors are moving out. It's funny but moving is moving. It makes a lot of noise..." Ibby looked at him expressionlessly. She got up without a word and disappeared into the bathroom. Hannes sat in the kitchen.

  In fact, the move was over after a short time. Silence returned. Ibby came out of the bathroom, sat down at the kitchen table and stared into space. "What is it?" Hannes wanted to know. She raised her hand and made an indefinite movement. I don't know, that meant this. Hannes shrugged his shoulders. "Our landlady wants to have the apartment upstairs to herself. Maybe for one of her children ...", Hannes said, but already when he said it, he remembered that the children of Mrs. Sommer-Baumert both lived abroad, married, with a good job, high earnings, almost already, as she mentioned some time ago casually, in luxury. Mrs. Sommer-Baumert had also said that she would only see her grandchildren once a year when the families would come to her in summer. It could be, Hannes thought, that one of the families wanted to come back to Germany and move into the apartment. Hannes and Ibby sat at the kitchen table, each busy with their own thoughts. Hannes gathered himself up, put the dirty dishes in the sink, cleaned up the kitchen and decided, as he was now in his active phase, to collect the garbage and take it to the basement.

  With the garbage bag in his hand, he met his landlady at the entrance. She feuded the hallway, Hannes remembered boiling hot that he also had to feud his landing, but he then spoke to his landlady about Jens and Franziska's move anyway. "Tach, Mrs. Sommer-Baumert! But the neighbors moved very quickly this morning!"

  Frau Sommer-Baumert flinched and nodded with her lips pinched together without looking at him. "Is one of your kids coming back?" Hannes wanted to know. Mrs. Sommer-Baumert shook her head.

  "Jens said they quit for personal use. Jens said they had to move out really quick. Did something bad happen?"

  Frau Sommer-Baumert shook her head, then looked around as if she wanted to make sure that nobody was listening, nobody was nearby, leaned her hands on the mop and said to Hannes quietly, "I'm not supposed to tell anyone, but funny people are moving in here. You know, I got ten thousand euros if I quit the two of them upstairs, with papers and everything. And they got more than that." She looked around again. "Much more! And people said we'd make it all safe, with notice and then a new contract and stuff. The new tenants want to move in tonight. Two men. Are they gay?"

  Hannes laughed, then said: "Doesn't matter, Mrs. Sommer-Baumert, or did it bother you?" Mrs. Sommer-Baumert shook her head. "No, but what do the neighbors think? You know, they only want to stay here half a year. I'm not supposed to say anything. It's funny to me, Mr. Rachmiel, it's funny! Creepy! Really creepy!" She lowered her voice. "Tell me, Mr. Rachmiel, keep your ears open, what are they?"

  Hannes realized his landlady was scared. "I will. Do you know anything specific?"

  Mrs. Sommer-Baumert shook her head, pinched her eyes together and fixed Hannes. "No. But what I wanted to say was, you got a good girl up there." Hannes froze, but his landlady didn't see it or didn't want to see it.

  "Isn't this apartment too small for both of you?"

  Hannes wiggled his head. He didn't want to talk about Ibby with Mrs. Sommer-Baumert. "It's all right," he muttered.

  Hannes was actually in the mood to continue a conversation with her and just wanted to turn around to go into the basement, there he heard quiet steps on the stairs. Ibby came down. Hannes thought she looked gorgeous. The only thing that bothered him was the sunglasses. Ibby smiled at Mrs. Sommer-Baumert, then Hannes, gave him a fleeting kiss on the cheek, took the garbage bag from his hand and disappeared into the cellar. Hannes stared at her irritated. He felt a slight thump. Mrs. Sommer-Baumert had also looked after Ibby. "No, what a nice girl!" She looked at Hannes. "You have to take good care of it. Now that there are so weird people in this neighborhood. But tell me, what's the young lady's name? Looks so Asian. She's got a narrow face. And so thin. Have you had enough to eat? Now that they're unemployed?"

  Hannes was speechless. It was now clear that Mrs. Sommer-Baumert had opened the letter with the dismissal or at least knew the contents.

  "Yeah, uh," stammered Hannes, "I've been saving up. No problem." He wanted to say something, but Mrs. Sommer-Baumert spoke to him. "What's her name? I want to know who lives here under my roof!" Hannes heard quiet footsteps on the basement stairs. "Her name's Ibby!" "What?" "Yeah, that's her name." "What's your last name?" "She doesn't have one." Mrs. Sommer-Baumert looked at Hannes in amazement. "No last name?" Ibby stood next to Hannes. Mrs. Somm
er-Baumert looked at Ibby. "You don't have a last name?" Ibby shook his head. "Something like that!" said Mrs. Sommer-Baumert. "No last name! Where do you get that?" Hannes had an idea. "Uh, Mrs. Sommer-Baumert, Ibby's from the South Seas." He stopped. "New Caledonia." "Where's that?" Mrs. Sommer-Baumert didn't let up. "In the South Seas. Near Australia." "Oh," made the landlady look at Ibby. "Have you ever been to Australia?" Ibby nodded and held two fingers up. "And? Beautiful?" Ibby nodded enthusiastically. "My son lives there with his wife and children. At the South Coast. In Melbourne. Have you ever been to Melbourne?" Ibby shook his head. "Why didn't I say anything?" Mrs. Sommer-Baumert wanted to know. Ibby pointed to her ears, then raised her thumb, pointed to her throat and pretended to hold something in her hands and then break it. "Oh," said Mrs. Sommer-Baumert, "you can't speak. Accident? How did this happen?" Hannes stepped from one leg to the other. Ibby pretended to ride a motorcycle and then slip to the side. Mrs. Sommer-Baumert made "Oh", then she suddenly turned her head to Hannes. "And how did they meet?" "Pure coincidence," Hannes said, "so we just ran into each other." But the woman was still not satisfied. "And what are you doing here? So far away from home? Work?"

  Hannes didn't know what to answer. When suddenly the telephone in the apartment of Mrs. Sommer-Baumert shrilled, he thanked the sky in a quick prayer. Mrs. Sommer-Baumert said that one could once again talk the days, Hannes should take good care of her and disappeared in her apartment. Hannes grabbed Ibby's arm and pulled her up the stairs. When he reached the top, he closed the apartment door and leaned against it, relieved. "Ibby, that could have gone wrong!" Ibby waved and went into the kitchen, sat down. Hannes followed her. "Why did you follow?" Ibby pointed to Hannes, then down, then looked at her at an imaginary wristwatch. "I've been gone too long?" Ibby nodded, then put her head crooked in her questioning posture. Hannes filed a report.