Peace Stick by Stephen Johnson

Author:Stephen Johnson [Johnson, Stephen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Stephen Johnson
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Ingrid Richter

The courtyard shuffle during the long break lacked energy. It was normally above snail’s pace but never likely to raise a sweat. The momentum was enough to keep the supervising teachers happy; the rules were being obeyed, although no future Olympians were being groomed. The inertia was caused by frequent stops to check the skies: no bombers, time for another circuit.

Ingrid pulled her jacket tighter; the temperature had dropped another degree. She and Sylvie had no need to check for danger from the sky. Herr Schumann’s update had fuelled survival hopes that had been reignited by the peace stick before first bell. The thought of the boy with the Mosaik comic made her laugh.

‘That was funny watching you make that fifth grader slide along the wall this morning.’

‘I didn’t think he was going to shift. I thought I might have to kiss him – that would have made him run.’

Their laughter attracted Renate and Katja as they cut across the yard from their 7B classmates.

‘Why are you two the only happy students at the 31st Oberschule?’ asked Renate.

Sylvie shrugged. ‘There is nothing we can do about men playing war. Enjoy life while we can.’

The newcomers dropped into step with their friends.

‘We heard you were being provocative in class, suggesting men were silly to make war instead of finding solutions to problems.’

Ingrid looked across the yard; Hans Rathmann was talking to a group of boys and girls. He pointed in their direction. Her stomach lurched when she saw their eighth-grade stalker listening.

‘Was it Hans who told you?’

‘Yes,’ said Katja. ‘He says girls don’t fight, so we shouldn’t decide who the men go to war against.’

‘Silly boys.’ Ingrid shook her head. ‘They grow into stupid men who never learn. If they used a bit of common sense and less pride, there might not be any need for wars.’

‘Enough about depressing topics.’ Sylvie turned to Renate and lowered her voice. ‘Have you heard any more about that new British band from your cousin in Hamburg?’

‘Yes!’ Renate’s eyes crinkled. ‘Heidi saw them again – they get better with every performance.’

Ingrid was mystified. ‘What band are you talking about?’

‘The Beatles. They’re from Liverpool and Heidi says they are gorgeous. They wear their hair long, like beatniks, and their songs make everyone want to do the twist.’

Beatles, beatniks, the twist: Ingrid was a Western music novice. Vati never strayed far from classic German composers on his record player. Radio Luxembourg had modern music, but she never listened between the songs to learn the important information.

‘Heidi sent pictures of her friends doing the twist,’ said Renate. ‘It’s hard to tell if I’m doing it right.’

‘How is it supposed to go?’ asked Ingrid.

Renate looked around the courtyard. ‘I can’t show you here. But think of what you do with your hula hoop. You wriggle and twist and then raise one leg.’

They all laughed, which attracted stares from parading students. The bamboo GDR copies were heavier than the plastic American hula hoops. It took strong hips and tummy muscles to keep them rotating.

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