The day of his mother’s funeral.
Mathias was sitting on his bed in his quarters and staring at empty space. Through the wall he could hear voices, the clinking of tableware. The guests who had arrived to offer their condolences were picking at snacks in the downstairs courtyard, making the rounds and reaffirming that they were “friends.” He could count on his hand the number who were there to genuinely mourn. He wasn’t even sure if it included his father, the deceased’s husband, Jörg Kramer. For two days the senior Kramer had been so overwhelmed with preparations for the funeral, and now with keeping the mourners company, that he hadn’t even had the time to make eye contact with his son.
Mathias was fourteen. At that age he was no longer a child, but neither was he an adult. While he had tried to be prepared, his mother’s succumbing to illness had been a powerful blow. It was as though half his soul had been carved out and crushed. He had no confidence to keep going, to stand on his own two feet from tomorrow onwards.
He lacked the will to do anything at all.
Something hard hit the window. The one that faced the street outside. Mathias wondered if he was imagining things. Then he heard it again.
He turned his head slowly towards the sound. It felt like someone else was controlling his body.
A third crack.
Something was hitting the wooden shutters.
Mathias got woozily to his feet. He still didn’t feel like he was moving of his own accord. Before he realized it he had crossed the room and opened the window, was poking his head out and peering down at the street.
Rita was looking up with concern on her face. She waved silently at Mathias. Then she started pointing at the ground. She wanted him to come down.
Mathias shook his head.
She repeated the gesture. Over and over, regardless of his protests.
Mathias pulled himself back into his quarters. He wanted to bury himself under his covers, but even that felt like too much of a struggle. Besides, Rita would only throw more stones at his window. It would be easier, he somehow decided then, to go out than to keep declining his friend’s call. He went downstairs and headed towards the front door.
The guests showed no signs of noticing him.
He took the door to the street and found Rita waiting for him right outside.
“Let’s take a walk,” she suggested, a bit anxiously.
Mathias shook his head one more time.
Looking more decisive, Rita stepped forwards, reached out her arm, and seized him by the wrist. She started to walk, pulling him with her.
It was embarrassing to have a girl his own age tug him along like this. It felt like everyone around them was staring.
Before he knew it they were close to a bazaar. The eaves of the various businesses formed a ceiling above them.