6

I might not know if my scalp would be as harmful to people like the rest of my skin but I was not

going to make this adorable kid my guinea pig.

What would I have given to feel her small fingers

on my scalp, to breathe in her child scent and to

perhaps graze her silky skin, but it was impossible. I

would most likely never touch a child again, much

less have one of my own. I would never have what

was required to make children either, nor the special someone to make them with. The only thing

that remained in my power was to console the hurt

child in front of me before I sought refuge in my

solitude again.

“It’s not your fault,” I gently told the girl, whose

eyes remained downcast, “I just don’t like to be

touched. Some people are just not as open as you

are.” The little head rose and a pair of green eyes a

shade lighter than my own made careful contact.

“You'll find out over time with whom it’s OK to

touch and with whom it isn’t.” I swallowed reflexively as I felt my throat close up. “I... I have to go

now. Thank you for this.”

I lifted the packet of rags and sent one last smile

the girl’s way before I moved away from her, tears

already stinging in my eyes. I stored my purchases

in the trailer more haphazardly than was my usual

fashion and hurriedly secured the tarp, all the while

aware of my fellow shoppers’ curious gazes at me

and the supplies and from their gazes, I knew they

would be thinking about what a single woman in

her early thirties might do with these many supplies.

As long as they only stared, though, everyone would stay safe. With a grateful sigh, I sank into the

driver seat at last and pulled the door shut to ward

off the icy rain into which the snow had turned a

minute ago.

My breath was forming small clouds and I

cranked up the AC as soon as I had turned the key.

As always, I directed all of my concentration on

driving and pulled out of the parking lot carefully. I

couldn’t afford accidents. The encounter with the

little girl had been a close one already. Usually, I

moved through the masses like a drop of oil on water but some minor accidents invariably happened,

and only by feigning utter ignorance had I extricated myself from the situation. How long my condition would last or whether I would at least find an

“emulsifier” one day was no longer the first

thought I woke up to and the last one I took to bed

with me but it was always there, sometimes watching from afar or hovering close by.

No, it wouldn’t do to dwell on my gloomy

prospects; I had to be grateful for the small blessings: I owned a fully paid small house and enjoyed a

steady stream of income, unconventional though

the source was. Everything I had to handle in person was in driving distance and for anything else I

enjoyed a strong and reliable internet connection,

courtesy of a nearby radio mast.

Finding that house had been a tinge of luck. Despite its good condition, a one-storey home in a remote location in a sparsely populated area did not

attract many buyers and I had snatched it up for a

song while my condo in the centre of Frankfurt had sold for three times more. Due to the low wage

level in this area, the cost for some minor repairs

and the replacement of the tub with a walk-in

shower had been affordable as well, so, all in all, I

was not only debt-free but had some savings left

over. Yes, those were good thoughts. Just a few

more of those and perhaps there was a chance the

face of that little girl wouldn’t follow me to bed

tonight.

The rain was pelting down harder now. Most

people believe Germany to be arctic all year round

whereas millions of heat-scorched lawns and

miniskirts in many parts of the country beg to differ

between June and August. However, certain areas

are, in fact, afflicted with more protracted periods

of hibernal temperatures, such as this one, which

made it perfect for my needs as it necessitated protective clothing. I could have done without the considerable amounts of precipitation but after three

years in this area I was used to it, and so was my

trusty minivan that tackled each mile towards my

isolated house with 4WD confidence.

At last I reached the small concrete bridge that

ultimately led to an uphill trail from which another

narrow, almost invisible path branched off towards

my house. Only a few minutes more and I would be

home, safe and sound. Unloading the supplies

could wait until the rain had abated. Suddenly I

caught a movement from the corner, something big

and grey that seemed to slump, although that was

practically impossible to tell when the world was

shrouded in liquid grey curtains. Nonetheless, I ac- tivated my hazard lights and stepped on the brake

with caution, grateful for my high-quality tires.

What was that big, indistinguishable mass? It didn’t

look like a living creature and yet I had seen it

move. Suddenly it shifted again. Oh God, this was

definitely a human hand.

My decision was made within a fraction of a second: as big a threat as I may be to that person, the

cold posed the bigger one. A mere ten minutes on

the cold ground could render them so weak and immobile they would never be able to get up again.

Once I had shrugged into my padded raincoat,

scarf, hat and gloves, I carefully made my way to

the sodden mass on the ground.

Lying on his right side in front of me was the

biggest man I had ever laid eyes on in real life. The

clingy fabric of his drenched grey leather jacket and

jeans outlined his flesh and shaped like a haphazardly stuffed cushion. His calves looked larger than

my thighs and his thighs, wider than my torso. His

belly lay as though poured out of him as a viscous

mass and the hand that peeked out from one of the

sleeves was chubby like a toddler’s. The man’s face

was obscured by the hood of his sweatshirt. The

unexpected presence of this even more unexpected

trembling shape caused me to swallow reflexively

and my lower belly to… good question, what was

my lowered belly doing? No, whatever it was, my

priority was the man in front of me. I bent.

“Hello? Hello, can you hear me?”

A startled twitch interrupted the trembling but

there was no reply. I squatted and leaned closer.