The Storyteller

“You didn’t? Then who did?”

He stood up without letting go of the gun. He stood in front of her and looked down at her … he was taller than she was. “There was so much blood,” he said. “Blood everywhere. On my hands, on her hands, on my shirt, her face, on the tiles, smeared in streaks, on the small round blue carpet … I threw it away later, that carpet … I hadn’t known that blood was that red, that light red: big, fallen, burst droplets of blood … the color of poppies. A sea of blood, a red endless sea, purple waves, carmine froth, splashing color … I remember that I thought all of this back then. Micha was still sleeping. I was the one who found Michelle.

“She’d slit her wrists … long, deep cuts in both arms … she’d wanted to make sure. Blind white cat. Self-centered beast. She never thought of us, not for one minute. She ran away from her own problems, her fucked-up life … the wrong guys, booze, unemployment, drugs. We have an old bike trailer in the basement … we used it to transport furniture and stuff we found in the trash … I put her into the bike trailer and took her to the Elisenhain. She loved the anemones so much. We used to go for walks there when I was little, before Rainer Lierski … I was sure someone would see me, stop me. I almost wanted somebody to. But nobody did. That was the day the island sank, and the sea was red.”

He fell silent. He lifted the gun and put it in his pocket.

“You really thought that I did it, didn’t you?” he whispered. “That I shot my mother? That I’d shoot you?”

“What are we going to do now?” A

“I don’t know. You tell me. Everything’s ending.”

“No!” she whispered. “No. Not for me. Everything’s just begi

She put her arms around him and hugged him as tightly as she could.

“Are you trying to tell me that you’ll stay? In spite of everything?” he whispered. “A

“I am not staying with the murderer,” she said, her words muffled by his jacket. “I am not staying with the victim Abel Ta

She pulled him out of the bathroom, into the living room. She pulled him down on the sofa. She realized that she was crying again. She couldn’t help it. She didn’t know who started to kiss whom, but it was a desperate kiss, a kiss in front of the sharp edge where the ice had broken and the water was rushing by in an unpassable stream, separating them from the mainland.

“We’ll find a solution,” A

But first, something else seemed more important, and it happened as if it had to happen. The most improbable of all the things that could have happened. Maybe it happened because there was nothing standing between them anymore—no more secrets, no more lies, no mistrust, nothing. The torn, invisible cloak of pain was enveloping them both as it had done in that night in the house where the air was too blue. A

Everything was different from the dream. Much more complicated. Much more real.

She tried to get out of her clothes, got all tangled up in them, and laughed. And that, she knew, was all unreasonable A

“A

“If something … if I can’t be here anymore,” he whispered, and A

“My parents would adopt her,” A

He nodded and closed his eyes, and she closed her eyes again, too, and seconds later, the green wave broke and washed over them. Not exactly at the same time—exactly at the same time is always a lie—but the waves of the ocean in which they swam together followed one after the other. They stayed like this for a long time, sitting there, breathing each other’s breath, in and out. They kept each other warm in the last cold of the winter. There was a solution, A

“Of course,” Abel whispered. “Of course, there’s a way out. I know it now.”

And she wondered if he could feel her thoughts through her skin.

I am completely happy, she thought, hoping that he would feel this thought, too. At this moment, I’m completely happy, isn’t that strange? Actually, it isn’t strange at all. Ah, linger on, thou art so fair.

A car stopped in front of the house; they heard the engine and then voices, those of Mrs. Ketow and several men … hurried voices. There was something sharp in their voices, something dangerous—the edge of the ice and a raging current.

They stood up and went over to the window, still naked.

“Shit,” Abel said in a low voice, “I didn’t think they’d be that quick.”

Two cars were parked in front of the house. One belonged to Magnus, the other to the police … a green and white police car, A

She’d never gotten into her clothes faster. Everything was happening too fast now.

Abel hugged her again, for a very short moment. “There is a way out,” he repeated, and she didn’t understand … she understood nothing. She ran after him, into the hall … Micha emerged from her room with sleepy eyes, the book about the dog in her hand. She saw Abel rush out of the apartment … he didn’t turn back to look at Micha. There were policemen on the stairs, she could hear their steps … maybe someone shouted something, shouted for her to stand still, stay where she was … for Abel to stand still.

She stood by the front door, pressing Micha against her with one arm. Abel wasn’t ru

Out of the corner of her eyes, A