“You’re not from Berlin, are you?” he says.
“Does it matter where I’m from?” I reply.
“No, I suppose it doesn’t matter at all. I’m from a town called Karlsruhe originally. Now I work at a university in a medical research department. Some of the discoveries they make are fascinating,”
I close my eyes in the vain hope that when I reopen them this fool will have disappeared. I open my eyes and the man hasn’t been eaten by a giant worm which I find very sad.
“I’m guessing you haven’t had the best day,” he says. I look at him and gently shrug, “I’ll buy you a beer to cheer you up,”
The man walks to the bar and he returns pretty swiftly. He hands me another Berliner. I down the remnants of my current bottle and take the gift.
“Thanks,” I say and clink bottles with him.
“My name is Heiko, what is your name?”
“I am Ana,” I say. I probably should have used a pseudonym but it’s too late for that, “I’m in Berlin with work,”
“Oh right, I thought you might be a student, you look very young,”
“Yes, the opportunity arose for something unique so I took it,”
“And now you’re having second thoughts about the job?”
“It’s more of a vocation, then a job,” I say, I look at the floor as I can feel the tears welling up again. If I cry now I’ll set the bar on fire. I’m glad Heiko doesn’t say anything more. Well, for a minute anyway.
“There’s a party going on upstairs if you fancy joining me? My friend Maik lives there in a WG.”
“What’s a WG?” I say.
“Ha, you’re definitely not a Wessi. It’s a Wohngemeinschaft, a shared apartment. A lot of Berliners live in them. Lots of young people want to live here but there aren’t many places to live. You have to be able to get along with folk here.”
“Do you live in one?” I ask.
“Nope, I’ve got a flat near my new job, near Checkpoint Charlie. So are you coming up for a drink, meet some of the guys?”
“OK, why not?” I stand and go off with Heiko holding my empty beer bottle in my right hand. If he tries anything I will put this through the side of his head. He looks at me and I can almost sense him wanting to put his arm around me. I glare at him and he thinks better of it.
We pass by the toilet I vomited in. Next to it there is a closed door. Heiko opens the door and the stairs are immediately in front of us. A girl is sprawled on the stairs with a needle and blood coming out of her arm, her skeletal frame on display through her sheer black dress. The blood is dripping on to the wooden stairs smearing them darker.
“What happened to her?” I say.
“She’s fine, she’s a süchtige,” I don’t know what the word means but I am more appalled at his blasé attitude to this unconscious girl, I kneel down to see if she needs help when Heiko pulls me up.
“Leave her, she is like this every night. She’s on heroin, a type of morphine. Don’t you have drugs where you come from?”
“I guess not,” I look at the girl, her legs are twitching gently, and continue up the stairs.
There is music but it is much quieter than downstairs however there are a lot of people mulling about. There is a musty odour mixed in with the ubiquitous cigarette smoke. We walk past a bedroom where four lads who are surely in a punk band are sat against a wall and passing around a roll-up cigarette and taking turns puffing on it.
A girl is laid across them all, one of the boys has his hand inside her skirt which makes me look away. I hear them calling out at me but I ignore them and stay behind Heiko.
We arrive at a filthy kitchen, mucky plates and mugs piled around and an open fridge filled with beer. Heiko grabs us two beers and hands me one. He then points at a man sat down at a small table by the door.
“That’s the man who helped me succeed in my job application. We call him Doktor Party.”
“That’s an interesting name,” I say, “Is he actually a doctor?”
“I think he’s a chemist by trade. He helps a lot of people in Kreuzberg with their prescriptions,” Heiko laughs, presumably at his own joke, “I am a trained chemist too, I graduated last year,”
“So, why are you hanging around in places like this?” I ask, this place is a hovel unfit for human or any other creature’s habitation.
“This is where the real people live,”
“All people are real,”
“I mean the people who have character and substance.”
“As opposed to who? You make no sense,” I say and Heiko laughs again. He is so infuriating, my need to bash his head in is becoming uncontrollable.
“You have a lot to learn about the world Ana. We are being controlled by powerful governments and rampant consumerism. The bourgeoisie are in control and their self-interest is destroying the world. Right now, we are in a great struggle to liberate people's’ consciousness,”
“Liberate them from what?”
“Americanism, consumerism. It’s time people thought for themselves,”
I finish the beer and take another two out of the fridge, reluctantly giving one to this moron next to me.
“Are you working as a chemist?” I say, “That’s a good career,”
“Not as such,” Heiko laughs again, the cretinous ball of flesh, “I actually left my job at the university to work in medical testing, it’s very interesting, there is so much rapid progress with regard to the human brain,”
“Who is this?” a voice rises from behind Heiko. It is the shaven-headed Doktor Party. He could be any age from twenty to sixty years old.
“Oh, this is Ana, a newcomer to Berlin,” Heiko says and one of Doktor Party’s hairless eyebrows raises.
“Welcome to the German sector of Free Berlin,” Doktor Party says and he laughs loudly with Heiko sycophantically reciprocating. My lack of respect for that man increasing even more. “Are you here to get high?”
“Eh? No,” I say.
“Have you ever tried it? A little bit of brown will make you forget all of your worries. You look like you have worries, Ana,” Doktor Party says.
“I don’t have any worries,” I say, not liking where this conversation is going.
“You must be the only one. Apart from Heiko here, but his parents pay for everything for him so it’s not a surprise. I’ll let you have your first taste for free,”
“I’m not interested in your free samples,”
“I can help find you ways to make some Marks if you are adamant that you want to pay. That is not a problem for me, I am Doktor Party and I can make anything happen.”
“Is this how you free people's minds like the girl on the stairs? To me, it appears more like making them dependent on you,” I say, striding towards Doktor Party.
“Heiko, I think you should take your new friend away from me,” Doktor Party stands up and he is barely taller than me, an angry short man. If this little bald exploiter thinks he can intimidate me he has picked the wrong girl at the wrong time. A few people have entered the kitchen, emaciated, pock-marked men and a couple of beautiful young girls in long trenchcoats. They are watching this face-off with grim fascination.
“Come on Ana,” Heiko says and he has to pull me away from this situation, my gaze not leaving Doktor Party’s until I back up into the hallway. Heiko takes me in to a living room filled with more people - more people on drugs, but outnumbered by people dancing and chatting. An oasis of relative normality. We perch on the arm of a sofa.
“Why did you do that? Doktor Party is only helping people. It’s their choice to buy from him. It’s the ultimate free choice.”
“I can’t believe you need me to tell you how naive you are,” I say and Heiko once more laughs - I close my eyes and try to maintain my calm.
“This place here, this city is the definition of freedom. People can be who they want to be. They can create what they want, work where they want.”
“Who has ever told you you can’t work where you want,
or study what you want?”
“What do you mean?”
“Has anyone, at any point in your life, said you can’t do this? You can’t do this because of the colour of your skin or because your hair is too dark, or because you have a certain surname?”
“That’s not what I mean, I’m on about following dreams,”
“You’re an idiot. No offence Heiko but one day you will learn about struggle and it will change your perspective on everything. I can’t speak to you anymore or my head will fall off,”
I rise and walk off back towards the staircase, Heiko looks nonplussed. I can tell that my admonishment meant nothing to him. A privileged boy who has gone from a top school to university to a good job and he thinks he represents the underclass.
Is this the Western superiority complex?
Back on the stairs, the girl from earlier is moving and her head is lolling against the wall. I sit next to her and prop her up against the wall so she is pretty much upright. The blood on her arm has dried and the needle is dangling out of her arm which makes me feel sick. I take the needle out and place it on the stairs. The girls eyes are vacant but moistening up.
“Thank you,” she says, and then mumbles something else in German I can’t understand.
“I’m sorry, I don’t understand,” I feel bad not being able to make out her words but she is slurring too much. I hand her my beer as her skin looks almost translucent, the girl desperately needs some liquids. She lifts the bottle up to her dry, cut lips. The girl takes her time to take a long drink from the beer.
“My name is Birgit,” she whispers, continuing to sip at the beer.
“I am Ana, do you need some help?” I say.
“No, no. I am fine,” I don’t think I’ve seen anyone less ‘fine’ in my life. The girl would be absolutely stunning if she wasn’t off her head on drugs. “I need to see Doktor Party,”
“I don’t think you need any more drugs,” I say. Birgit giggles at me.
“I do some work for him so he owes me some money,”
“What do you do?” I ask, fearing the answer of what relationship would a pretty young girl have with an exploitative drug dealer.
“At the clinic with the good doctor and the bad doctor,”
“Doktor Party is a very bad doctor,” I say and Birgit looks confused.
“No, he is the good doctor,” Birgit pulls my head close, “You don’t want to meet the bad doctor,”
“Why not?” I ask, entranced by this zombified girl.
“He hurts people, but they can’t hear the screams outside,”
“Outside of where? Birgit?” I shake her as I can see she is about to doze off.
“The clinic, Dr Beckermann’s clinic,” My stomach lurches at the name, it has to be a coincidence, it has to be. Oh Jesus, tell me its not true.
“What is the name of the company you work for?” I ask, and time itself seems to turn inside out as I already know her answer. If ever I wanted to be proved wrong, this is the moment.
“I...M...F...G. I don’t know what the letters stand for,” I can’t verbally respond so I offer a smile at Birgit. She smiles back and then lays her head down on the step and is soon sleeping.
I need to escape from here due to the cloying fustiness of this apartment and the realisation that I am near the employees of the boss I have recently murdered. I stand up to leave the party but I stop, take a look at Birgit’s sad shell of a body and realise I need information. It’s time to speak to Heiko again.
Deep Down the Rabbit Hole
Sunday, 4 May 1986
Heiko is coming down the stairs as I walk up. He looks delighted to see me, especially when I start talking to him. Simply catching sight of his face inwardly enrages me. Stupid smug idiot.
“Oh Heiko, where is your new job at? Do you work with Doktor Party?”
“Occasionally I do see him at work. He supplies them with some vital medicines. He’s genuinely a top class guy, Ana. Top class,”
“Maybe I misjudged him, I’m not good with meeting new people,”
Heiko takes me back up to the kitchen and grabs a couple more beers. I decline his offer as I need to focus my mind on digging up more information instead of getting drunk.
“Birgit told me that sometimes she works for the clinic,” I say. The kitchen is busy now and Doktor Party appears to be doing a great trade. A steady stream of people hand over money to him and in return, he hands something over to them. Occasionally I sense him looking over to me but I purposefully ignore him.
“Yes, it’s a great way for some of the younger people to earn some money. There aren’t many jobs here in West Berlin,”
“You found a job pretty easy to come by,” I reply.
“Yes, but I have an education. I am in great demand,” his boasts sound ridiculous coming from a man sat on a filthy worktop in a squat surrounded by drug addicts.
“How would I go about earning some money there? Do you test new treatments?”
“We do a variety of things. Some of it is real cutting edge research, some of it is sponsored by NATO I believe. The American government provide covert funds. It’s a top secret place,” Heiko says, drunkenly placing his index finger to his lips.
“Top secret? I don’t believe you Heiko,” he seems to be hurt by my comment then starts laughing loudly.
“Oh yes, we are hidden deep below the city. No one can find us,”
That’s interesting, where on earth would that be?
“So you work in a cave?” I say causing Heiko to once again start bellowing laughter. A few people turn to stare at us so I nudge Heiko and shush him.
“A cave? You are very funny Ana. No, not in a cave, it’s much cleverer than that,”
“I don’t believe you Heiko, I think you are trying to fool me because I’m not a local,” I respond. Heiko falls into my trap, which is probably the most predictable trap set in modern times.
“It’s true, my parents brought me up to never tell a lie. I don’t tell lies,” Heiko starts pouting. His childish face is eminently slappable.
“I believe you Heiko,” I say and rub his shoulder. His face brightens immediately, again like a child promised a chocolate bar to stop sulking, “Where is it located?”
“I’ll whisper it to you,” Heiko says in a voice actually louder than his normal level. He pulls my head towards his and whispers in my ear, over-dramatically looking around when he is trying to act surreptitiously, “It’s in one of the old underground tunnels,”
“The ghost stations?” I say, remembering my chat with the man who sold me the city map.
“Yes, I believe so. It’s close to Stadtmitte station - the entrance is at the Karlsbach office near Potsdamer Platz, do you know where that is?”
I nod my head but in truth I don’t know where it is. Suddenly, there is a commotion by the table. Doktor Party is shouting in a young man’s face. The young lad is frightened and begins to cower in the nook between the wall and the fridge. Doktor Party stands over the spotty lad but as he does so a punch is thrown by someone behind the Doktor. A sucker punch that deliciously connects and floors the good doctor which is very pleasing to witness.
The situation escalates from unruly commotion to full scale riot. Heiko is scared to death, his face is a picture. That also cheers me up endlessly. Scraps are starting everywhere, I need to get out of here fast. The kitchen is a heaving mass of bodies pushing and punching each other.
I drop off the tabletop on the floor and I slip past two skinny lads who are grabbing each other by the shoulders, a man is blocking the exit so I punch him low in the stomach and he lurches over gasping. A girl who witnesses me do this flashes me a big toothy grin so I respond with a thumbs-up gesture.
On the stairs, some more men are running upstairs to involve themselves. It seems as if every individual in this building is shouting. I press myself against the wall and gradually make my way downstairs. The man I punched is at the top of the stairs and he maniacally throws himself down towar
ds me but the men coming up stop him and straight away start raining blows on him.
I make it through the door back intox the bar. The screams can still be heard from upstairs and a couple of men bundle through the doors ungainly throwing crap punches at each other. The bar itself is still very busy although everyone is either looking in the direction of the stairs or actively making their way up.
A pretty blonde girl runs in from outside and shouts: “The police are coming!”
No one except for me heeds the cry. I walk out of the bar in to the street. I can hear the sirens and I casually saunter off back from where I came originally. It’s not the time for me to be hanging around here.
I arrive at a U-Bahn station that looks like a cross between a castle and a market hall. The sign says it is called Schlesisches Tor. I head inside the station where a few homeless drunks are chatting. I’m not sure if it is safe here but I sit down on a bench to regain my bearings. I pull out my U-Bahn map and it isn’t far back to Moritzplatz.
It is too noisy in here, the boisterous drunks are talking nonsense. There are probably six or seven men and one woman, She has a black eye and virtually no teeth. The sight of this pitiful woman is making me queasy. She is drinking from a litre bottle of beer. I can’t understand a word of what she is saying despite her being less than five metres away. A couple of staff members chat between themselves and ignore the homeless people.
An old man breaks off from the crowd and sits down next to me. He reeks of booze and I have to turn away from his noxious breath. I know he is going to speak to me no matter what.
“You look like a girl with problems,” he says to me in a good-natured manner.
I turn to him to respond and consider a sharp response but he is smiling at me and I suddenly feel sorry for the poor old fool.
“Sometimes it’s good to talk,” he continues, “I remember when Berlin was not a divided city. I was thirty years old when they began erecting that infernal wall.”
The old man looks to the heavens despite the only view above being of the station ceiling. He is holding a small bottle of spirits. I can’t tell what it is but if I ever need to strip paint off a fence I’ll purchase a couple of gallons of it.
The Wind and the Rain Page 16
