The Race

By Sven Bennühr

Growing up somewhere in the middle of nowhere is pretty shitty. And when it's in an area as bleak as the Hocheifel, it sucks twice as much. But my parents hadn't thought about that back then. They just wanted to get out of the city and live in harmony with nature. They didn't ask me. Sure, because who asks a four-year-old?

I can describe my childhood in a few words: Everything was great until I started school. But when I realised how damn big this world was, I wanted more. But did I get more? Fuck no!

"When you grow up, you can decide everything on your own," said my old man, the stupid sod.

So I started building shit. I stole from the village shop, smoked pot behind the church, borrowed things without asking and bullied the half-dead guys who were supposed to teach us at school with my mates. What a load of bollocks. It doesn't do you any good to know some stupid poem by heart. Life is hard, you have to know what works.

And then came this one day.

Kev was up for a race and challenged Fahid. Golf GTI against a single-seater BMW with a big engine. Both borrowed with our universal key while the owners hung out at work in the small factory. A great thing.

We met at the church. The boys revved their engines. Pastor Semmelrogge, the rickety bird who couldn't keep his hands to himself around children, stood in the doorway and gawped. I think he was even drooling a bit.

I sat next to Kev and peered over at Fahid, who flashed me his wolfish grin. I raised my hand and counted down to three.

Full throttle!

The GTI's tyres spun, blue-black smoke behind us. Then the car swerved off. Fahid had a better grip on the BMW and was already 50 metres ahead of us. Kev rammed the gears in and accelerated brutally.

The town sign flew past. We were already on the hairpin bend that led up to the pass. Fahid was only just ahead of us.

Then we were level and drifted into a nasty bend. Kev shouted: "I've got you now, wanker!"

Fahid looked over at us for a moment, then the back of his car swerved and pushed us onto the sandy strip.

The GTI rumbled over the undulating surface, then touched down with a loud bang, lifted off and landed back on the road. I have no idea how Kev managed to keep control, but he did.

He cursed under his breath, gripped the steering wheel tighter and stepped on the accelerator. The last steep straight up to the pass lay ahead of us, followed by the gruelling hairpin bend and then the final sprint. It was going to be close.

But Fatih was struggling. He was slowing down and as we passed him on the right, I noticed that his rear tyre looked a bit funny.

"Give it rubber!" I shouted and the GTI took another leap forwards. We shot into the bend and Kev hit the brakes hard and jerked the steering wheel round.

But we didn't slow down. The car drifted inexorably outwards. The crash barrier in front of the ravine offered little resistance and then we were flying.

Kev opened his mouth to let out a soundless scream. His eyes widened and he grimaced.

Time almost stood still.

The microseconds stretched out and I saw every detail with captivating clarity.

Kev's hair stood on end, his hands let go of the wheel in slow motion, he raised his arms to shield his face.

The right-hand mudguard, which had come off when he broke through the crash barrier, flew lazily over the bonnet out of sight.

I was completely calm, I didn't react, I registered.

Then the bonnet lowered. And the bottom of the ravine moved into my field of vision. The front left side hit a towering rock and was compressed like paper.

The airbag deployed and was almost immediately punctured by the steering column, which ploughed violently into Kev's upper body.

Kev opened his mouth and vomited a gush of blood.

I was still thinking, 'How much fucking blood does this loser have in him?'

Then I lost consciousness.

I heard a beeping and a repeating noise. Then a strange squeaking sound. It came from the right and travelled to the left. A rattling sounded. I felt warmth.

My upper body was lifted. Moisture.

My brain slowly came round. The accident, Kev, blackness. Had I survived that?

An announcement: "Doctor Rothmann, Doctor Rothmann, please go to the ambulance. Doctor Rothmann please!"

Hospital, I was in hospital. I had survived, somehow.

I wanted to open my eyes. I couldn't. Maybe I could lift a finger? No, nothing was happening.

Speak? Maybe just a soft croak?

No matter how hard I tried, nothing happened.

"Oh Ines, there you are."

A male voice.

"Hello Torben, good of you to come. Can you give me a hand?"

It squeak again. I was pulled up.

"Not so rough!" said the woman.

"Why? He won't get anything anyway," Torben replied.

"Still, everyone who lands here deserves care and respect. We owe them that. And this one, he was just a child."

"Well, yes, but he was an idiot. To go along with such nonsense. He could have done something else, why was he in that stupid race? He doesn't deserve any sympathy or respect."

"Yes, he does," said the woman sharply. "Even if nothing happens to him, he can still save lives. And he will: his parents have just given the green light."

"Whatever you say," Torben grumbled. "Let the surgeons respectfully snip out his organs."

The squeak again, quieter this time. A door slammed shut.

I screamed inside my head.