Why We Took the Car by Wolfgang Herrndorf

Author:Wolfgang Herrndorf
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub, pdf
Tags: FIC000000, JUV000000
Publisher: Scribe Publications
Published: 2013-12-31T22:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 26

They all walked us to the gate to say good-bye, and they gave us a huge pumpkin to take with us. It was just sitting there, a huge pumpkin, and they said we should take it in case we got hungry. We took it but didn’t know what to say. They waved good-bye for a long time as we wandered off.

“Cool people,” said Tschick. I wasn’t sure whether he was serious or not. I didn’t think he could be serious since he’d made the twirling-finger this-kid-is-crazy sign when we’d walked in. But his facial expression made it clear he was serious. I guess he was serious about both things. He was serious that the kid was crazy and that he thought they were “cool people.” He was right too: They were cool, crazy people. They were nice and they were nuts, they made great food and knew a lot of stuff — just not the location of the supermarket. That they didn’t know.

But we finally found it anyway. Later, as we turned into the street where the Lada was parked, carrying two huge bags of groceries and a giant pumpkin, I put the pumpkin down on the curb and went behind a bush to take a piss. Tschick trudged on without turning around — I’m only describing all of this in such detail because it proved important.

When I came out of the bushes, Tschick was about a hundred meters ahead of me and just a few steps from the Lada. I picked up the pumpkin and at the same moment a man carrying a bicycle came out of a driveway between me and Tschick. He lifted the bike up, flipped it over, and put it down on its seat and handlebars. The man was wearing a yellow shirt, greenish pants, and clip-in shoes. On the bike rack was a white hat that fell off when he turned it upside down. It was only when I looked at the hat on the ground that I recognized it as a policeman’s cap. I also noticed something else we hadn’t seen when we’d parked on the street: On the little brick house in front of the barn was a sign hanging with the green and white logo of the police. It was the town sheriff’s place.

The town sheriff had yet to notice us. He cranked the pedals of his bike, pulled some tools out of his bag, and tried to wrestle his chain back on the sprocket wheel. He was having a hard time. He looked down at his dirty fingers and rubbed them together. Then he saw me. Fifty meters away: a boy with a giant pumpkin. What was I supposed to do? He could see that I was walking in his direction, so I just kept going. The pumpkin belonged to me, after all. My legs began to tremble, but it seemed to have been the right decision: The town sheriff’s gaze returned to his bike. Then he looked up again and saw Tschick.

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