By lunchtime, the fine snow fell in clumps so thick visibility was zero in the schoolyard. Ground fog cast a silver pall over the swings and other playground equipment. Teachers vetoed any idea of students going outside. They herded the fourth, fifth, and sixth graders into one end of the indoor physical education space. There, they organized us into games of tag for the girls and dodge ball for the boys who needed a more vigorous outlet for their pent-up energies.
The games required zero brainpower, but Dimitri and I were so bored we went along. Anything to keep from returning to the classroom for the boring afternoon sessions. He and I threw the balls with all our force. One by one, the fourth graders dropped out. One by one, Dimitri or I disqualified the older boys until two sixth graders stood with us on the court.
The open space echoed with yells and screams from those we’d deposed, demanding our defeat. Our opponents stood several inches taller. Plus, they had the crowd’s support. The girls had stopped their tag game to cheer against us. But the afternoons of traipsing for hours all over Copenhagen had toned me and Dimitri to fighting strength.
The rules decreed no throwing the ball at any player’s head. For once in our lives, Dimitri and I played by the rules. The two older boys consistently heaved the ball at our upper bodies. Dodging a toss at his face, Dimitri slipped. He didn’t fall, but Stefan Oswald immediately hurled the ball at his head, knocking him flat. His skull thunked on the wooden flood.
Enraged, I scooped up the ball and slammed it into Stefan’s face.
His nose spurted blood.
Girls screamed. Boys booed.
Stefan went down on one knee. His partner, Erik, came toward me, his hand up in a time-out. I ignored the signal and smashed the ball into his chest, knocking him off his feet.
I extended my hand and helped Dimitri stand just as a teacher came running. Her whistle shrilled, breaking apart the human circle that protected two aggressors from further assault.
Instead of sitting in classes for the rest of the afternoon, Dimitri and I sat in Herr Petersen’s office waiting for Emma’s arrival. She spent ten minutes behind closed doors with him, emerged with her lips pursed, then sat with us while he gathered our coats and book bags.
Outside, she relayed our sentence. Suspended for the rest of the week. Four days, during which we had to write a six-page personal essay on what we’d learned from poor sportsman-like conduct. When we returned, we could not play dodge ball for the rest of the school year. She offered no comment on our behavior—perhaps because she struggled to keep her footing on the treacherous sidewalks.
A layer of ice lay beneath three or four inches of snow. The bitter wind blew huge, wet flakes in our faces and muffled the traffic on the streets. As if by ESP, Dimitri and I walked on either side of Emma, grasping her elbows. We reached the bus stop, exhausted and unsure if a bus had left or was about to arrive. She was half frozen while my mother was probably lolling in her silk robe in her over-heated house flirting with The Carp.
“Emma,” I suggested, “let’s have a hot chocolate. They know us at that bageri. When we finish, I’m sure we can call a taxi.”
She lowered her scarf from her mouth. “I didn’t bring enough money.”
“We have our allowance,” Dimitri said. “It’s more than enough.”
She didn’t argue.
Inside the bageri, Dimitri and I urged her to order a pastry with her chocolate. As we waited for our orders, she sighed. “Herr Petersen wanted a contact for your father.”
My stomach dropped. “Did you give it to him?”
“I couldn’t. I don’t have an address or a place to leave him a message. He said in cases of emergency, I should get in touch with his good friend, Eva Johannsen.”
Eva Johannsen. His good friend. I shot a smirk at Dimitri over Emma’s head. Contact his whore, not his wife.
“What about letting my mother know of an emergency?” I made no effort to hide my sarcasm.
“Under no circumstances. Those were his orders. Under no circumstances should I make any contact with your mother.” Emma sounded confused and distressed.
The hot chocolate and pastries arrived. Both dropped like chunks of lava into my gut. Dimitri’s eyes blazed. No need to say anything to him. He understood.