A day in the Life: Misinterpretation · A short story

Posted on 11. Juni 2016


Dose PrippsHe scribbled commodore basic commands on the table. Line for line. But only what he understood. He was fourteen and a half years old. It was a math education hour. All what was told, was far beyond he could grasp. The teacher was the principal and the neighbour. A friendly and upright good man. The chalkbord was full, boys exercise book empty. Like his head or imagination what was going on, but not his senses or what he wanted. A fourteen year old.

The adult took the schoolbook away, looked at the table, snort. „But erase it!”
The boy felt lousy, but knew about the trump: Commodore Computer Basic. Mr. Stummeier liked it. Later, the school was out, he rediscovered the grace of mathteachers exposures.

It was stupid anyway. Almost anybody was better in Basic than him. He was owning no Computer and had to remember anything from the lessons he got at school.
Most of his friends had a Commodore C64.
He had had the money, but spend it for an Atari 2600 to play PacMan, Defender, DigDug and such.

All liked the boy. He was funny, loud, full of ideas and was telling girls stories no one this age questioned.
He was small. Tiny on the outside, but his insides were great and when school was out on this well and warm summer day, four good friends made their way to the super market.

Brandnew big cans of swedish beer. That was really new. Blue cans with a golden (copper) likeness on: Pripps. A whole pint for budget-conscious customers like us.
Short like always, his friends borrowed him money, he got his two cans and all stumbled away. Surely the till girl was somehow a big sister of somebody we’re not unknown to or a friend of somebodys mates mother … who cares. Everybody needs to talk about something. And surley he would hear about it from some of mothers connections someday. God!

Were there deeds to do? Homework? Father? The thoughts were fading away as soon as they occured.

Sixty pence for entrance. Could better be wasted on some sweets later. Trying to slip in? Hey you! Me?
If got caught you had to walk around the area of the open-air bath were the hedge was generous holey, but the imagination to jump over the small river to get in did the decision. The boy put the money on the counter.

Midday. Ordinary people had meal. Could have been mashed potatoes for the boy and peas and carrots or saugages or rice – something. If his mother was home. What a question. He had a brother. Was his mother working still? Life is so complicated!
Shoes off, pants down. „The others will come later.“, one says while arriving the „scene”. Girls come with Towels for the one or the other. How do they always know … ? Claudia brought cookies. She and him were in the same class. Her father would string oneself in a few years. He is a pub owner. She and Jutta are best friends. Jutta once piddled on Claudias leather chair, because Claudia won’t squire her to the toilettes, which were down at the pub.

Claudia and the boy had always been very good friends. That’s why he knows about Juttas wee wee.

First can open, laughing and shouting. Life is great. Jumping from the one-meter board. Backwards, Salto, Cannonball and diving down to the ground of the diving pit. Trying to get close to the girls, even if some were out of reach. All talking big.
Those who had to travel by schoolbus were a bit later.

Ingo arrived! He will become the boys best friend. A close and deep acception of personalites.

Ingo is a „rich man” and brought his casette player with TRIO (DA DA DA) and EXTRABREIT (Hurray, hurray the school is burning) and other popular stuff. He loves to care for others and that‘ why the boy was thinking highly of him.

Second can. The sun is beating. Tanja is here. Whyever, she will become the boys first real big love which will last for almost a year! She is looking like a japanese girl.
One day, in the near future of their relationship, a teacher will left her class, walking to them on the schoolyard giving them a warning to immediately stop the hot kisses and whatever they plan to do next, because it is disturbing her lesson. All of her scholars were like glued to the window.

The boy was famous.

Even the boy’s english teacher were asking sometimes: „And, how’s it going?“
He was convinced later by court and banned from the school, because he was spying out the girls in the showers.

Better than the teacher who had slaped schoolars in the face. He will have a bad injury later (really an accident!). His umbrella will stick in the front wheel of his bicycle. No one really cared. Teachers agains schoolars. He later died in a car jam.

Loud music. Shouting. A piece of Icecream, some french fries – more beer, because one gave up … could one ask for more?

Jan Wilm is there. He’s from the high school, will become a bandmate of the worlds worst Punkband ever and was in the Kindergarden with the boy. From a family loving the boy. Mother, Father, little brother, little sister. A home outside the home.

Is there something to do? Yes, a lot. How can he ignore it? No idea. What day is it? What do we have to do? History, english, german … „let me copy what you have.“ „Please, lend me yours, I forgot mine.“
The boy was always lazy, never did much homework, but ranged in the midfield, to the dismay of some teachers. The homeroom teacher was an alcoholic, like his first teacher in the grade school.

Spending the evening with the family of a classmate, invited to supper. One of mates big Sisters is there too. So unbelievable beautiful, that it hurts.
The boy prefers Salami and classmates mother always offers some.

Sitting on the edge of the bed. The sun was going down. Remorses about everything. Thinking about father. Mother. School. A very tiny universe. Tomorrow will be better.

Sneaking inside home through the backdoor of the old farm house. Avoiding first contact with the boys stepfather. Inside the kitchen, taking what the pan, left on the stove, offered … second step: To cross the living room vertically. Television was on. Father was smoking. „Hi Dad.“ A glance, not unfriendly. „Hi Boy. Where have you been?“


Good night …

Door, Stairs, The mothers voice from inside the bathroom. A completely different language. Yes or no, she is old enough to find out herself. What was the question?

The boys room was furnished with what the parents and grandma had no use for. Not bad. The radiator never worked. Comfortable anyhow. Clothes off. Somehow still drunk. Sleepy and confused. Thinking about why he was so different. And about Tanja.

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