Warning!
This is a book for the open-minded only!
If you feel that you already know all about the mysteries of our existence, your view of life is set and you would like to keep it this way, then this book is not meant for you. Don't bother reading...
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The only source of knowledge is experience
- Albert Einstein
A very uneventful school week later, I just couldn't wait to see all my friends again.
And confront them about the crucifix. . .
Naturally, I had asked Sofi about it first thing on Monday morning. She had only looked at me with her big, round eyes, denying rigorously any knowledge of the matter.
I believed her, of course, since she was a very bad liar. Truthfully, she had never really been on my list of suspects anyway, since she had not even watched the movie (lucky her) and was therefore utterly ignorant concerning the strange symbolism of the upside-down crucifix.
Besides, she just was not the kind of person to play tricks like that.
No, I was fairly sure that I had to look for the culprit among the boys. My prime suspects were actually Basti and Luk.
Beni, whom I had called on Monday evening, had categorically denied any knowledge of the despicable deed. I believed him, as well. Because, had he been guilty, he would not have hidden it. Quite the contrary, he would most certainly have enjoyed teasing me mercilessly for reacting the way I had! Which he had done anyway, but without taking credit for the prank.
That boy and his thick skin! Beni had obviously never even registered how seriously I had been affected by the wretched movie and that I was still kind of annoyed with him for basically forcing me to watch it in the first place!
Although, I had to admit that with my inability to hold a serious grudge for longer than a few minutes, I made it fairly easy for him to simply brush my feelings off.
*****
When Beni, Sofi and I arrived at the party, our friends were nowhere to be seen.
AC/DC's "Highway to Hell" blasted from the loudspeakers and the familiar mixture of smoke and spilled alcohol greeted us, as soon as we opened the wooden doors and stepped into the old farmhouse.
I briefly wondered about the whereabouts of its usual inhabitants and if they were aware that quite a large, rowdy crowd of rather inebriated teenagers was being let loose in their home. I also hoped that the house would still be standing at the end of the day (or night). . .
My inhibitions long gone, I immediately started dancing. Squinting through the thick fog, I realized that the whole building was in a state of slight disrepair: the concrete floor was completely bare, the small, square windows did not seem to close properly any more and the entire furniture consisted of two wooden cupboards and a few mismatched couches, which were pushed against the walls to make room for the dancers. The cupboards were basically empty - except for a few abandoned white plastic cups - and the flowery curtains framing the windows had also seen better days. All in all, it was quite possible that the house was not currently inhabited. At least, I fervently hoped that this was the case!
