Wiederbeleben - 3. New School

The night before school started in September, Jan and I received our schedules, and were pleasantly surprised to find that we shared nearly all of our classes. The coordinator had said that it would help to ease my transition into the school. Naturally, we had both chosen to pursue a “naturwissenschaftlicher Schwerpunkt” for our Abitur programmes; under Marie's influence, our greatest lust was to study Humanmedizin. Certainly, the picture of the fabled world of anatomy, biochemistry, and a collection of other impossibly difficult courses was complemented by my dreams of seeing Jan in a white lab coat, with a stethoscope around his neck.

As usual, Marie prepared for us a filling Bavarian breakfast of Bratwurst and mountain cheese. She wished us luck, and we quickly parted in Jan’s Mercedes to avoid the morning rush hour. He drove along the Henry Hudson Parkway, which, as we passed the Sputen Duyvil Creek into the Bronx, provided a rather stunning view of the Hudson, with a rising sun barely passing over the horizon.

While the school itself was rather small, I suppose it was to be expected, since the year 11 class was composed of but 18 students. Indeed, it was a stark difference from the 12-story redbrick building that Dalton occupied on 89th street. While we shared our section of the building with the rest of the Gymnasiale Oberstufe, I was hopeful that our class would bond much more closely than the isolated groups of cliques at most high schools.

“Welche Klasse haben wir zuerst?” (What class do we have first?)

“Deutsch, dein Lieblingsfach.” (German, your favourite subject.)

“Du weißt, dass es Biologie ist!” (You know that it’s biology!)

“Ja, klar, Dr. Benoit.” (Of course, Dr. Benoit.)

We walked down the corridor and stepped into the classroom. I glanced at the placard. Herr Neumann. An interesting name, to say the least. I half expected to see Sigmund Freud in front of me.

“Guten morgen! Ich heiße Robert Neumann.”

It was always nice to hear an energetic voice, especially on a Tuesday morning.

"Ich möchte ausdrücklich betonen, dass obwohl unser oberstes Ziel bei dem Abitur Erfolg zu haben ist, werden wir uns auf der fortgeschrittenen Analyse und Synthese der Literatur konzentrieren.” (I would first like to emphasize, that although our primary objective is to have success on the Abitur, we will be concentrating on the advanced analysis and synthesis of literature.)

The literature module of the Abitur, and likely of most baccaleaureate exams, was traditionally known as one of the more challenging aspects. Even the most talented students struggled with the synthesis of a high quality essay in the matter of a half hour.

Nonetheless, I was pleasantly surprised to see the classroom arranged in the form of a roundtable seminar, and delighted by the sight of mahagony furnishings and bookcases. I had experienced all too many literature classes where none of the students actively engaged in discussion, and the lessons were principally blunt memorization of written analyses. Cliffnotes stood firmly, in my mind, as the antithesis of the innate beauty of literature.

We commenced by introducing ourselves with our names and our literary interests.

I scanned the room, but stopped when I heard him speak - it was Mats, the boy Jan had mentioned. A blend of Danish and German heritage, he had locks of nearly white hair and intense green eyes that bore into mine. I watched as he returned to sketching in his notebook with a drafting pencil, engrossed completely in his own world. Were Jan and I not soulmates, which I was certain we were, I might have fallen head over heels in love with him. It was the air of mystery that provided him his allure.

Although Herr Neumann looked to be past the age of retirement, it was quite obvious that he continued to hold vigor and passion in the pedagogy of literature. I had not expected that he would prompt a profound discussion of existentialism once I had brought up the subject of Dostoevsky’s writings, which, as I was pleased to discover, were a core component of the foreign literature module of the course. He was much more well versed with philosophy and history than one might initially expect. Yes, I think I would quickly grow fond of him.

On the other hand, our biology teacher, a petite woman of 30, turned out to be not only passionate with the natural sciences, but also an avid marathon runner and the coach of the cross country team, or as they called it in German, Crosslauf. Jan had managed to eloquently convince me to join with but a simple phrase; “Du wirst so scharfer mit engen Laufhosen und einer Medaille um deinen Hals.” (You would be so much sexier in tight running shorts with a medal around your neck.)

Indeed, a very convincing argument. We would both be running with tents in our crotches, crossing the finish line holding hands.

We found Mats sitting alone in the lunchroom, occupied with a mathematics textbook. Infinitesimalrechnung mit mehreren Variablen. Much like I had been, in the past.

“Können wir hier sitzen?” (Can we sit here?)

“Wenn ihr wollt.” (If you want.)

There was undoubtedly a strange air to him; merely sitting next to him caused me to feel colder.

Jan attempted to start a conversation.

“Wo kommst du her?” (Where are you from?)

“Dortmund ... ursprünglich aus Hamburg.” (Dortmund ... originally from Hamburg.)

“So eine schöne Stadt … und auch so romantisch. Vor allem der Hafen.” (Such a beautiful city … and so romantic. Especially the harbour.)

Hamburg ... the alledged namesake of the hamburger, and the home of the Miniatur Wonderland.

“Ja … genau.” (Yes … exactly.)

My heart sank as I noticed a teardrop form in the corner of his eye and slowly glide down his pale, blemishless skin. I gently put my arm around him, and he rested his head on my shoulder. I caught the scent of his hair ... hints of lavender and sage. Intriguing.

“Was ist los?” (What is wrong?)

He collapsed, emotionally and physically. The words flowed out of his mouth ... “Ich hatte einen Freund dort ... er war so perfekt; er hatte das Aussehen eines Modells und das Herz eines Lammes … aber langfristige Beziehungen laufen nie gut. Und ich weiß nicht, ob ich Liebe wieder fühlen will, bis ich mich niederlässt.” (I had a boyfriend there … he was so perfect; he had the looks of a model and the heart of a lamb … but long distance relationships never work out. And I don’t know, if I want to feel love again, until I settle down.)

I couldn't bear to think of what would happen if Jan and I were separated. I pitied him dearly.

“Die Liebe ist eine schöne Sache. Du lebst nur so lange, deshalb sollst du dich nie von Glück berauben.” (Love is a beautiful thing. You only live so long, so you should never deprive yourself of happiness.)

How true Jan's statement was ... one never fully comprehends the value of life until he sees how closely death lingers behind him.

“Danke … es ist nur, dass ihr mich an ihn erinnert.” (Thanks … it’s only that you two remind me of him.)

“Dein Seelenfreund wird schließlich kommen, aber nur wenn du versuchst, ihn zu suchen.” (Your soulmate will come eventually, but only when you attempt to search for him.)

I sensed that he was likely experiencing the same feelings as I was only a few months ago … lonely, abandoned, neglected ... until Jan had found me. And now, he needed a friend, perhaps two, who understood him.

“Willst du mit uns nach der Schule kommen?” (Do you want to come with us after school?)

“Wirklich?” (Really?)

“Na sicher. Wir verbringen selten unsere Zeit mit andere.” (Of course. We rarely spend our time with others.)

Mats was truly a curious character. Although more engrossed by athletics than the both of us, he never acted the part.

“Also, was machst du gerne?” (So, what do you like to do?)

“Malerei. Meist mit Ölfarben.” (I enjoy painting. Mostly with oil.)

My mind was brought back to the sketch from the morning. I had only caught a glimpse; abstract, but evocative of darkness ... and solitude. He was clearly battling some sort of inner turmoil.

Jan pondered for a moment, and quickly disappeared upstairs. When he returned, he was carrying a box of art supplies and an easel.

“Mein Vater hat diese Farben vor ein paar Jahren gekauft. Er ist ein guter Künstler, aber er kam nie dazu, sie zu benutzen. Obwohl ich nicht garantieren kann, dass die Farben noch funktionieren.” (My father bought these paints a few years ago. He is a good artist, but he never got around to using these. But I can’t guarantee that the paints still work.)

He gasped audibly. “Williamsburg. Ist er ein professioneller Maler?” (Williamsburg. Is he a professional painter?)

“Nein, er arbeitet im Finanzbereich. Er hat leider nicht viel Zeit für Hobbys. Wenn du die Farben mögen, kannst du sie nehmen.” (No, he works in the financial sector. He has unfortunately little time for hobbies. If you want the paints, you can take them.)

“Ich kann dir nicht genug dafür danken.” (I can’t thank you enough.)

“Sie würden sowieso verschwendet werden. Aber ein Gemälde wäre schön.” (They would have gone to waste anyways. But a painting would be nice.)

“Natürlich, aber das Thema wird eine Überraschung sein.” (Of course, but the subject will be a surprise.)

We heard Marie's car pull into the driveway. She was indeed very pleased to see that we had invited a friend over - a deviation from our usual introverted behavior. All three of us found his personality very charming, and his presence filled the remaining emptiness of the house. After our endless pleading, Mats finally consented upon staying for dinner, and later, the night.

We had just climbed under Jan's polka-dotted covers when we heard a light rapping at our door.

“Ja?” (Yes?)

Mats poked his head through the doorway, his long hair swept messily behind his ears.

“Ich kann nicht einschlafen,” (I can’t fall asleep,) he whispered, yawning.

“Ist es zu kalt?” (Is it too cold?)

The heating in the guest room was somewhat less effective than the rest of the house.

“Nein, aber …” (No, but …)

I slid away from Jan and patted the space between us. “Komm und schließ dich uns an!” (Come and join us!)

His face brightened immediately, but he immediately attempted to hide his joy, likely out of embarassment. I laughed when I saw his awkward grin. He reluctantly climbed between us, and we snuggled close to each other. The three of us slept more soundly that night than ever before, and the warmth of our bodies blanketed us with a sense of security. It felt all so natural; our legs were entwined with each other, and both Jan and I held our arms around Mats, holding him in a tight embrace. His tense body finally loosened, and he let out a sigh of pleasure.

A few weeks later, Mats delivered the product of his toils, as promised.

It was a 60” by 36” painting, wrapped in brown packaging paper. I carefully peeled back the tape, and glimpsed at the contents.

The depiction was lifelike and filled with youthful lust … more enchanting than a professional photographer could have captured. Jan and I were completely engrossed in a kiss, oblivious to the happenings of the outside world; he had perfectly captured our physiques, and enhanced them by manipulating the cast of the sunlight.

Jan and I simultaneously kissed Mats on opposite cheeks, and he blushed a deep rose.

“Was?”

We could both sense that he was nervous.

“Ich glaube, ich habe mich auch in jemandem verliebt.” (I think that I have fallen in love with someone.)

I listened in relief; he had finally come out of his shell.

“Mit wem?” (With whom?)

He was certainly surprised at how calmly we took his revelation.

“Ein Mathematikstudent an der Columbia. Wir trafen uns bei einer Hausparty meines Vaters, und seither haben wir uns ineinander verliebt.” (A mathematics undergraduate at Columbia. We met at one of my father’s house parties, and we have been in love ever since.)

The wonders of love at first sight had manifested themselves yet again. And this was clearly intellectual love, which, like a mathematical proof, was inevitable and irrefutable.

“Wie Jan und mir … das ist einfach wunderbar!” (Like Jan and me … that is simply wonderful!)

“Ja ... ich hoffe nur, dass nichts uns trennt.” (Yes … I only hope, that nothing separates us.)

They say that high school relationships rarely last. But perhaps we were special. Perhaps our love was meant to be.

“Das hoffe ich auch. Ich habe dich nie freudiger gesehen.” (I would hope so too. I have never seen you so joyous before.)