They’re going to send me away to the nunnery, I know it.
It’s the law, says Dr Mahmoudi, I’m sorry.
Noura comes into the waiting room holding a jacket and her handbag.
It’s late we have to go, she says, you know Amir doesn’t like to be alone.
You want to stay at our place tonight, asks Jameelah looking at me.
Sure, I say.
Where were you, calls Amir when Noura unlocks the apartment door, Frau Struck is seriously pissed off at you guys, she said you guys are going to have to go before the discipline committee and that you’re going to get kicked out of school, that’s what she said.
Where’s our school stuff, asks Jameelah.
I put it in my locker, where were you?
Everything’s fine, says Noura hugging Amir, have you had something to eat?
Amir shakes his head. Noura hangs up her coat and goes into the kitchen.
Where were you, Amir asks again.
It doesn’t matter, says Jameelah.
Yes it does, tell me!
No, says Jameelah.
Did you guys make up, he asks.
Jameelah and I look at each other.
I think so, we say at the same time.
Then it doesn’t matter where you were, says Amir smiling.
He points at the little table where the telephone book is.
A letter came by the way.
A letter?
Yes, he says, from the immigration department.
Mama, Jameelah yells, a letter came from the immigration department!
Noura comes back into the hall.
There, says Amir pointing at the little table. Noura grabs it and goes back into the kitchen and we follow her. When she sits down at the kitchen table to open the envelope I can see that her hand is trembling.
Well, asks Jameelah.
I look at Noura’s shoulders and back which are always straight, even when she’s sitting down. She puts the letter down on the table in front of her, braces her head in her hands, and begins to read. Suddenly her shoulders seem to shrink, smaller and smaller, and her normally straight back starts to droop, bending more and more until at some point it looks like Noura doesn’t have any bones at all anymore, like somebody removed them one after another. She puts her head on the table and collapses into herself like a hot-air balloon that’s spent, a balloon that says I just can’t do it anymore, I don’t want to inflate and rise up in the air anymore, I don’t want to carry you anymore, I don’t want to carry anyone or anything, carry yourself.
What is it, I ask.
Yeah, says Amir, what’s going on?
Jameelah yanks the letter out from under Noura’s head, reads it and then drops it on the floor and runs out to the hall. I hear the door to the apartment slam shut.
Wait, I shout.
I run as fast as I can down the stairs but when I get outside I see Jameelah disappear beyond the far side of the playground. I run across the playground toward the train station. The platform is empty. I gasp for air, for a second I think I’m going to suffocate, that’s how bad my lungs hurt. I definitely need to quit smoking, I think, and then I think what a fucked up thought that is and that I’m far too young to be thinking about shit like that. It’s not the time for me to quit smoking, it’s not the time to quit drinking, it’s not the time to quit doing anything, Jameelah and I just started again now that things are better, now that Amir’s back and Anna-Lena will soon be off to the nunnery.
I take the train to Wilmersdorfer and run over to the planet. The sky has gone dark, the clouds hang grey and heavy almost down to the roofs of the buildings. There’s nobody at the planet except Apollo and Aslagon. They are loading a shopping trolley with all sorts of stuff, old blankets, bottles, plastic bags. On top of it all is a blaring radio. The first raindrops start to hit the street.
Have you guys seen Jameelah, I yell.
Apollo shakes his head.
Haven’t seen her, he says and then he looks up at the sky and pulls his hood down over his face.
Come on, says Aslagon pushing the trolley.
What are you doing, I ask, and where are you going?
It’s going to get cold, says Apollo looking at the sky again, we’re going where it’s warm, where we can put on some fresh clothes and have a roof over our heads. Summer is over.
Aslagon nods.
What about the ship, I say, what about Naglfar and the end of the world?
Apollo looks at me and smiles and then takes off his hat like he’s making a formal greeting.
We’ll see you next year, he says.
Like a caravan in the desert, Apollo, Aslagon and the shopping trolley set slowly in motion. Soon I’m all alone at the planet and I don’t know where I should go, the rain is getting harder and spatters down on me. I’m not sure how long I stand there but I’m soaking wet when someone taps me on the shoulder from behind. It’s Nico.
Are you crazy, he says pulling me into the phone booth, you can’t just stand around in weather like this, he says, do you want to kill yourself?
No, I say, I’m looking for Jameelah.
She was just on Kurfürsten, says Nico.
Kurfürstenstrasse?
Yeah, down where the hookers stand. No idea what she’s doing there but she looked really stressed out. Did something happen?
Did you talk to her, I ask.
No, says Nico, I don’t think she saw me. But even if she did she hasn’t talked to me since all the shit with Amir. She’s obviously angry at me.
Probably.
Probably, says Nico looking at me. You were right by the way about just going to the police. I should have asked you again beforehand. It wasn’t right and I’m really sorry.
We can talk about it another time, I say, how long ago did you see Jameelah?
Not sure exactly but it wasn’t long ago.
Do you have any minutes, I ask.
Nico hands me his phone. I dial Jameelah’s number but nobody picks up.
Shit.
I’m sure it’s nothing, says Nico.
I have to go, I say.
I run to the U-bahn and take it to Kurfürsten. When I get out it’s thundering and there are flashes of lightning. I run half blind along Kurfürsten, the women have gathered under the awnings of the convenience stores to avoid getting wet, but not Jameelah, she’s sitting on our electrical box and letting the rain pour down on her. She’s holding a Müller milk in her hand, raindrops plop into it, thick drops that are dripping off Jameelah’s nose. I climb up next to her. For a while nobody says anything, we just sit there and let life float by, twenty-one minutes past, meaning just thirty-nine minutes of life left, I count slowly backwards from there until I reach zero, until I don’t have a minute left to let float by.
What was in the letter?
For a while Jameelah doesn’t say anything and I wonder to myself whether she’s counting backward from thirty-nine too, because that’s about how long it takes her to put the Müller milk container to her lips and gulp it down in one go.
The letter, says Jameelah, the letter said Ladies and Gentlemen, as you have known for a good long time, god’s earth is rotten and as a result you can no longer remain here in Germany. Please pack up your things and fuck off back to wherever it is you came from. With rotten regards, your rotten world. That’s about what it said.
It can’t be true, I say, how can it be so sudden.
My mother went back once after we moved here, says Jameelah, she just wanted to go to her mother’s funeral but they found out somehow.
So what, I say, who cares about that.
They care, says Jameelah pulling Mariacron, maracuja juice and milk out of her rucksack and mixing another round, you’re not allowed to ever go back once you’re here, otherwise you have to go back permanently.
That’s crazy, I say.
We have to turn in our passports tomorrow, says Jameelah.
Why?
So we don’t drop out of sig
ht beforehand. What do they think, that I’m Anne Frank or something?
Dropping out of sight is a good idea, who is it you said managed to do that?
Anne Frank.
Anne Frank, wait, does she go to our school? The name sounds familiar.
Man the diary! The diary of Anne Frank!
Oh right, I say, we read that in Struck’s class. That was boring. And the type was so small.
It was only boring because we read the boring version, there’s another one, in the other one Anne Frank writes about her pussy and the guy she’s in love with, Peter. It’s really good.
I want to read that one. Do you own a copy?
No Lukas loaned it to me, but you can have it. I’m never going to see Lukas again.
Better wait and see, I say.
Do you not get it, Jameelah screams and jumps down from the electrical box, they’re deporting us! I have to leave, I’m not going to become German, I’m never ever going to become German!
Today I found an eyelash and for the first time in ages wished for something. When I was a kid I would pull out an eyelash whenever I wanted to wish for something. Why wait for one to fall out when there were so many just lining my eyes and all I had to do was pull the wishes out, I thought, but none of the wishes ever came true, probably because I didn’t wait for them to fall out. I have no idea how many lashes I must have pulled out for that alone, just so I could wish for Papa to come home, over and over. That’s all I ever used any lashes for whether they fell out or I pulled them out. I know that having Papa come home was a big wish, but none of the smaller wishes ever came true either, not that I expected them to, but still.
I go into the hall and pull on my Chucks.
Let me know when you guys are ready, calls Rainer from the living room.
Yep, I say opening the door to leave.
I walk across the playground and ring at Jameelah’s.
Upstairs she’s standing in the apartment door barefoot with her hair pulled back, that’s how long it’s got.
Hi, she says as I make it up the last step.
Hi, I say.
Everything echoes in the empty rooms. No idea how Noura and Jameelah managed to completely clear out the apartment while still going to school and to work. Noura wanted it that way, I want everything to stay as normal as possible until the very last day, she had said, and I don’t want anyone to find out, she said, it’s bad enough for us without having to be ashamed on top of it all.
Now the apartment is empty, all that’s left are the keys sitting on the spotlessly scrubbed kitchen counter and next to them the letter from the immigration office. It’s folded twice so that all you can see is the part in the middle. I don’t need to read it again anyway, I know it by heart, I must have read it a hundred times, I even copied it by hand and took the copy to Krap-Krüger. Jameelah doesn’t know about it, I only went because I was so desperate and Krap-Krüger’s a human rights activist. I waited until Lukas and Tobi and Nadja and all the rest had left and then I went in to the tea shop, which as usual smelled like god’s rotten earth but I tried to breathe through my mouth so I didn’t have to smell it.
Krap-Krüger was really nice at first, he put on his reading glasses and read the text of the letter but after that he looked at me and shook his head.
What can be done to fight it, I asked him.
Krap-Krüger tossed his glasses onto the couch and said, you’re just coming now?
I didn’t understand what he meant.
Why, I asked, when else was I supposed to come?
It’s too late now, Krap-Krüger had said pointing to the letter, you should have come to me much earlier, these bureaucracies, he said, they’re cold and uncaring, to them it’s not about individual people, this is just a routine transaction to them, with people like that you have to hit them with their own legal language but that takes time, my god my dear, I was here the whole summer.
Here, says Jameelah handing me a piece of scrap paper, this is Amir’s new address.
At that group home?
Yeah but it’s not so bad, I was there, most of the people are out of their chadors but the supervisors are alright. It just takes so long for the whole thing to be resolved, but then he’ll be able to move back in with his mother.
Noura comes into the kitchen.
We have to go, she says.
I call home and soon after Rainer is out front in his taxi. He puts all the luggage in the trunk and holds open the door for Noura. Jameelah and I crawl into the backseat.
Have you been to the new airport yet, asks Rainer adjusting the rearview mirror, it’s the biggest construction site in Europe.
No, says Noura with a tired smile.
I look out the window. Birds fly past in the sky, I tap Jameelah and point to them.
Cranes, she says with an expert’s eye, cranes and back there, she points out the back window, those are swallows.
You can see the airport from a long way off.
Wonder if they’ll ever finish, says Rainer shaking his head. He steers the car into the turning circle and pulls to a stop in front of the main building. He gets out and unloads the bags.
Thanks very much for the ride, says Noura handing Rainer money.
No, says Rainer, it’s on me, put it back in your pocket. Who knows when you might need it.
No, says Noura, I insist.
I won’t have it, says Rainer.
In that case we’ll give it to the children, says Noura and hands the money to me before picking up the bags.
Auf wiedersehen and thanks again.
My pleasure, says Rainer and then he sits back down at the wheel.
Wait for me here, I call to him and walk into the airport building with Jameelah and Noura.
Noura looks at the clock.
We have plenty of time, she says, but it’s better to be early than too late. Are you hungry?
No, says Jameelah.
I look at the money in my hand and something occurs to me.
We have to do something, I say, just over there at the snack shop.
I’m not hungry, says Jameelah, are you deaf?
Come on, I say pulling her with me.
Large order of french fries please, nothing on them, I say holding out the money to the guy behind the counter.
What’s the story, says Jameelah.
I take the tray in my hand and walk over to one of the tables.
Potato party.
I don’t want to, says Jameelah.
I don’t either, I say sitting down, but then I eat a fry anyway, and then another and another.
Man leave a few for me, says Jameelah reaching for the fries.
Potato, I say, is actually an ugly word don’t you think, it sounds bad.
All words that begin with P are bad, says Jameelah with her mouth full, haven’t you ever noticed? Prison, priest, pacification, peril, pallbearer, pain.
True, pain, I say, and poison of course.
See, says Jameelah, potato is the same except that it’s not really bad it just sounds a bit ugly, like palpitation or puke.
We think of a lot more food items that begin with P, one after the next until the fries are gone. I order another round. A cheesy song from the eighties is playing over the speakers.
I hate that song, says Jameelah.
It’s my mother’s favourite song, I say.
Really?
Yeah, it’s what she listened to when she was around our age. Kind of makes you realize how old grown-ups are.
What do you mean?
Well he’s singing about being out in the streets until midnight and drinking seven beers. Like a grandfather.
Jameelah grins.
Staying up until midnight and drinking seven beers, even I could manage that.
And Nico, if he has the next day off he can drink a whole case of beer in a night.
Have you guys talked, asks Jameelah.
Only for a second but not about the whole thing.
Why don’
t you guys make up?
No idea. Maybe I will.
Yeah, says Jameelah, you should.
Did you ever see Lukas again?
No, she says, and I don’t want to. I did hear that Anna-Lena really is going to that boarding school.
We really need to get revenge on Lukas somehow, I say but Jameelah shakes her head.
I don’t want to get revenge, revenge is the most disgusting thing in the world. If there was no revenge then Abu and Youssef wouldn’t be dead and we would never have come to Germany and I would never have to get deported.
Fuck Germany, I say, what kind of country just sends people away.
Stop, says Jameelah, there are so many good things about Germany.
Like what?
I don’t know, there’s a million.
See, you can’t think of a single one.
Yes I can. Like the fact that there’s always water out front of stores in the summer so dogs can have a drink.
You’re crazy.
Seriously, says Jameelah, normal stuff like that, something so idiotically normal like having water out for dogs, that’s exactly what life is made of.
She looks at the clock.
I have to go.
We go back. Noura is waiting in front of the departures screen.
Come here my little one, she says bending down to me.
I’ll come visit you, I say.
You don’t have any money, says Jameelah.
I will, I’ll deliver newspapers or something and then I’ll come visit. For Christmas break. It’s warmer in Iraq than here then, and it’s sunny there in winter too right?
Noura smiles.
In winter it’s even colder where we’ll be living than it is here, you can ski there.
But in summer, I say, it’s sunny then right?
Noura runs her hand over my head.
Yes, she says, but where we’ll be living the moon is the sun.
Bye, says Jameelah.
Bye, I say.
We hug each other and then Noura and Jameelah go through security.
I’ll come visit, I call, whether there’s snow, sun, or moonlight, I swear I’ll come visit.
Jameelah turns around and raises her little finger.
Pinky swear?
Pinky swear, I call and raise my finger.
Rainer is sitting in the driver’s seat reading the paper. He starts the engine when he sees me. I slide into the backseat.
Tiger Milk Page 21