couldn't understand what he was doing. He wasn't very bright, and Andreas seemed somewhere far away as he kept thrusting and thrusting. Suddenly he stopped. His eyes could see again; they looked at Zipp with such vulnerability. He loosened his grip. Zipp stayed where he was as he struggled to understand. And then, before he managed to work it out, he felt a hand between his thighs. It began rubbing him, the slender hand, it rubbed and rubbed. He was caught off guard. To his horror he felt desire seize him, and something terrifying struck him like thunder inside, a terror so great that he felt as if he would split in half. From the depths of his soul he managed at last to summon a scream. It came all the way from his feet, it sliced through his body and into Andreas' face, blasting him away, and with a mighty leap he was on his feet. He was still screaming, an incoherent bellowing, in a voice that he didn't recognise. He clenched his fists, ready to strike anything, to crush and rip, smash to pieces!
Very slowly, Andreas got to his feet, without releasing his gaze. Zipp was a raging animal, ready to attack. Andreas stood at a reassuring distance, keeping an eye on him and preparing himself. At that moment Zipp was the stronger one, strong enough to kill. One wrong move and he'd kill with his bare hands.
'Shit, Zipp,' Andreas whispered. 'I didn't mean to.'
'Shut up! Shut up, you arsehole, you fucking poof!'
'I didn't mean . . .'
'I don't want to hear it! I don't want to know anything. Don't touch me, God damn it!' Andreas raised his voice. Zipp could hear anger behind his words.
'That's just the way it is! It's always been that way!' There was a plea in his eyes. Zipp was thunderstruck. He had never imagined this, not in his wildest imaginings. Anything but this. So what if he was particular about girls, if he preferred older women, that was all fine, appealing almost, it suited the way he was. But gay?
'What about the Woman?' he whispered, out of breath. 'Was it all a bluff?'
'No.' Andreas stared at his feet. 'She's . . . a cover.'
'What the fuck! A cover?'
'You believed it, didn't you?'
'Do you sleep with girls or don't you?' Zipp couldn't control himself, his emotions were tied in knots. He'd been oblivious, hadn't suspected a thing, but now it was so clear. Andreas had never been interested in women, and Zipp, idiot that he was, had been blind as a bat. He felt such a fool.
'I sleep with her, but it's just a cover.' Now there was total silence. A floodlight near the church wall sent a white light over the patch where they stood, facing each other with fists clenched. Zipp felt as if everything had been staged by some higher power. Someone had placed them here, someone had put the words in his mouth. And what he had felt. The desire when Andreas touched him, and the urge to destroy him which followed. Confused, he stood there, stamping his feet. There was nothing to do but leave. This was too much for him. If only he had suspected something, thought it through over time, been able to prepare himself. But if he left now, everything would be over. For ever. He knew that, and Andreas knew it too. He was still waiting, his fists ready, whether to attack or to defend. From now on he would have to live with the knowledge that Zipp knew. That he might talk about it. And Zipp had to live with what Andreas had done. For several seconds desire had swelled inside him. It was just a hand, like all other hands, like a girl's hand. His head couldn't control what was between his legs, God damn it! There was a difference, wasn't there? Was there a difference? He wanted to knock down all the headstones, rip up all the plants, smash the whole town!
'The fact that you . . .' Andreas stammered. 'It doesn't mean anything that you reacted that way. It's normal. Everybody . . .'
'Shut up!' Zipp was getting worked up. 'I know that I'm not a fucking poof. You don't have to tell me that. For God's sake, shut up, Andreas!' He tugged at his hair. He started sobbing, then wiped away the snot and tears, and looked at Andreas' yellow shirt gleaming in the dark. His world was in ruins, but the damn church was still standing, holding its own. He wanted to smash that too! You couldn't be friends with someone who was gay. People might find out and then obviously they'd think that he was one too. That's how people thought: that they were together, or something, had been fucking each other for years. He turned and walked away. Reached the corner of the church. There, in front of the church, stood a bench. He sat down, had to think. Go home to bed and fall asleep, after this? Impossible. After the whole future had been wrecked. For years he had been living a lie, he had been duped. Maybe Andreas had wanted him at that time? Maybe he had been a figure in Andreas' dreams? Zipp's shoulders began to shake. He was crying soundlessly. Andreas, gay. So it was impossible to tell. God and the entire world could be gay! Perhaps other people he knew too, ordinary people. Girls even. He thought about Anita. What if Robert had been an alibi? Robert, and all the others she'd slept with. But Anita was dead now, so it didn't matter. Possibly, nobody was what he pretended to be. What about himself? Hell, no! He was a good friend. Was he? Did Andreas really expect him not to turn his back? That was asking an awful lot. At the same time, it was a matter of their friendship, all those years! He needed time. A few days to think things over, but he wasn't used to solving problems by thinking, and besides, he was freezing. Behind him he heard stumbling footsteps. It was Andreas, he knew. You'd think he would have gone a different way. Zipp stared at the gravel, wanting to be out of this situation, back to what they had before, but that could never happen. They would have to find a new way. What would people say if they suddenly stopped hanging out together? They were always together. It would make the rumours start buzzing. The story would be launched, at first as a joke. Have you heard? Zipp has broken up with Andreas.
His shoes were wet with dew. His feet were frozen.
'If you ever do that again, I'll kill you!' Andreas put up his hands. 'I won't!' They both shrugged. Zipp got to his feet, almost mechanically. At the same instant they started walking at a slow pace to the stone gate. As they passed through it, it was as if something closed up behind them and was gone for good. Hidden in the dark among the graves. Zipp wiped his nose. He took some pride in his own generosity when he said: 'Shit!
People don't understand a thing. I hate this town.' Andreas nodded. It was a shitty town. Were there any decent people in this place? What did anyone know about how hard it was, all those people sitting in their warm living rooms, staring at American soap operas and criticising anyone under 20? Fucking shitheads! And what did they say in
'You're not going to tell?'
'No.'
It was over. For a moment they had stared into an unfamiliar deep. Now it was closed again. For a few minutes they walked along as they had before, side by side. Zipp understood that Andreas needed him. Hadn't Zipp always given his friend the utmost respect? But what could he demand in return for keeping Andreas' secret? Something that he had never been given? THE UTMOST RESPECT!
He felt a singing inside, a brand-new sensation. He would no longer cower. Their relationship would have to have a new quality. Andreas was more handsome, more intelligent, more popular; he had more money and nicer clothes, but he was bloody gay! The word had unpleasant connotations for Zipp: a torn rectum, Vaseline and shit under his nails. Wasn't that what he had always thought? Life was basically great. He himself was totally normal. He suddenly thought about the desire he had felt at the touch of Andreas' hand. But what the fuck, he had been overpowered, and wasn't he in the prime of his life, surging with vitality? And no-one had seen them. They shared a secret, a strange experience that was both powerful and frightening, but they'd find something else. Something better. He was sure of that. No, not sure, but he hoped so. The way only a young man of 18 can hope.
They turned their backs on the dead and headed into town. They walked along without saying a word, on their way towards something cruel, something truly terrifying, worse than what had just happened. Both of them had stumbled off on to a detour, but now they were back on track. They scowled at everyone they met, turned down side streets, walking with their hands stuffed in their pockets. Andreas' knife swung at his hip. They had to find some way to remember the night that would overshadow everything else. Later, when they recalled that time, they would have to be able to talk about it to others, even though they both knew what it was about, that it actually had to do with that night when they landed in the grass, on top of each other. Zipp could feel the sharp hip bones against his thighs. But he pushed all of that aside. He had to move on.
It was almost midnight. They had to leave the town centre for quieter neighbourhoods. They kept their eyes moving, but took care to avoid looking at each other; it was too soon for that. Tomorrow, perhaps. They had to get through this night. They passed the cinema on the left and crossed the street. Walked past the Gotten kiosk, an optician and a second-hand shop. The streets got more deserted as they went. And there, sent by the Devil himself, was a woman on her own.
