As Bizarre as It Gets

It was all a bit scary. To be on my own in such a big city. Especially with my sense of space and direction. Nevertheless, I was doing well. It had been a week since I first came to Berlin. I was staying with my aunt and uncle who weren't German but they lived and worked there for a long time. When they first moved up here, the Wall was still standing. They had a nice little apartment on Rondell Street (or Strasse, whatever) in which I even got my own room. They were treating me like a daughter. Too bad they'd never had any children, they would have made great parents.

I never saw them on week days because they worked all the time. They were members of the cleaning crew that maintained public buildings. Here in Germany that wasn't considered an almost shameful job like it was where I came from. But for now, let's go back to where I began telling you the story. I was trying to get back to Rondell Street. It was late in the afternoon and I was sitting on a bus, the line was M48 if I remember correctly. I was feeling a little embarrased holding a map of the city in my lap. I was carrying it around all the time and it got a little wrinkled.

There were three girls sitting a few meters away from me, staring at me and talking quietly with their hands over their mouths, making sure I couldn't hear them. They were being very childish but that was understandable because they were children, you know. They couldn't be a day over seventeen.

They were staring at my Dracula's Bride T-shirt and my purple hair. I stopped paying attention to them and looked out of the window. The sign said 'Fischer-.something Street'. I didn't have time to read the whole sign since the bus was moving.I wasn't exactly good at German, I had learned it in highschool but in everyday conversation I could understand maybe three words out of ten. That wasn't nearly enough.

The bus stopped and the gate opened. I remained sitting and decided to get out on the next stop and then it would be a short walk to the apartment. The gates were opened for a short time and I was passivly watching a young boy running to catch the bus. I hoped the driver would see him and let him board but what happened next proved me that wasn't the case.
The boy grabbed the railing and was about to step in but the gates somehow closed on his wrist and the bus started moving. I froze in complete horror but I came to my senses in a blink of an eye and jumped to my feet. I reached for the emergency brake and activated it.
Finally everybody else realized what was going on. The bus stopped instantly and the gate opened. The boy staggered and fell onto the sidewalk, holding his wrist and shivering. Everybody on the bus stood up and watched what was happening. I stepped out to see if the boy was badly hurt and I was joined by the shouting and cursing bus driver.

He was yelling questions at the boy who was answering in a quiet trembling voice. I understood they were mentioning injuries and a hospital. The boy convinced the shocked man he wasn't seriously injured and started getting up from the ground. The driver helped him up and took a look at his wrist. It wasn't broken but it was obvious there would be a big bruise some time later.

The driver reluctantly walked back into the bus and the vehicle started moving again. There were some curious people watching what went on but the crowd soon dispersed. The boy slowly walked back to the bus stop and sat on a bench. I sat down next to him. He was well aware I was there but he payed no attention to me. He rested his arms against his knees and kept examining his wrist. His hands were still trembling.

The boy was alltogether pretty strange. Maybe I just couldn't understand today's teenagers or something. He was wearing black shoes, black pants, black shirt and a leopard print suit jacket. His hair was blond and shoulder length, bangs falling over half of his face. The colour of his hair couldn't possibly be natural and it was obviously starightened. I was also getting the idea that some strands were actually extensions.

I opened my bag and took out a water bottle.
''You want some?'' I asked him.

He looked at me, moving away a bit like he was afraid.
''No, thank you,'' he replied and looked down again.
His voice was heavily accented.

''You've got a name?'' I asked just to help him get over the shock.

''Shin,'' he said.

That caught me by surprise. I was expecting something like 'Hans' but this was strange. Strange name for a strange boy.
''It's funny, you don't look Chinese,'' I blabbed out.

He chuckled.
''It's not my real name I. . . took it from somebody,'' he was struggling to find the right words in the English language.
A boy with a brave fashion sense who stole names from people. My opinion on him was moving from 'strange' to 'interesting'.

''Do you have a name too?'' he asked.

''Carly.''

''Carly? Isn't that a guy name?'' he was obviously feeling better since he was giving me a taste of my own medicine.

''It's short for Scarlet.''

''Oh.''

Silence once more.

''I should be going now. It was very nice meeting you, Shin.''

''Ok. Goodbye, Carly.''

''And watch out for those busses, they've got teeth,'' I added.

We smiled at each other and our ways parted.