The Red Scarf

I rode my bike down the gravel path behind the fields.

At some point I lost one of my headphones. I noticed far too late, stopped, and walked back until I saw it lying between two stones.

The air smelled like manure and hay.

A small fly flew straight into my eye. It started watering immediately. I cursed quietly to myself when I saw the kindergarten group ahead of me.

Reflective vests.
Small backpacks.
One of the boys dragged a stick behind him, drawing a line through the dirt.

The children screamed over each other, shoved one another around, one of them lay half in the bright green grass.

I rang my bell once.

Nothing.

Then again.

The teacher turned around calmly.

“Alright, make some space please, there’s a bicycle coming.”

A few of the children just stared at me.

Then they slowly moved aside.

Only one boy stayed standing in the middle of the path and looked at me as if he didn’t fully understand why I was even there.

“Luca!”

He flinched slightly and stepped aside.

I nodded briefly, thanked her, and kept riding.

Her skin felt like warm paper.

“He didn’t say goodbye.”

“He didn’t say goodbye,” she said again.

Three stuffed animals sat on the couch.

One of them wore a red scarf.

The television had been running for hours.
Hawaii Five-O or something like that.

The microwave was running in the kitchen.

It smelled like burnt plastic and something bitter.

“I should have called the police.”

“They’re hiding something.”

“They’re lying.”

“The hospital is lying,” she said and looked at me with a gaze that seemed to pass straight through me.

The television flickered across the stuffed animals.

“My taxi comes at half past three,” she said.

With trembling hands she pushed the blue hair clip back into her greasy gray hair.

When I left, the microwave was still running.

In the hallway I put my shoes on.

Behind me she suddenly said:

“Please tell him I’m not angry.”

I didn’t turn around.

Outside, the air had become warm.

On the way back, the stick was still lying at the side of the path.

Samu