When Frankfurt Cried--Chapter One

“Wir haben nicht zu einem Tollhaus zu finden, ungeordnete Gedanken, unser Planet ist der geistige Träger des Universums. We do not have to visit a madhouse to find disordered minds; our planet is the mental institution of the universe.” Johann Wolfgang von Goethe1

Whistling wind brushed Frankfurt, Germany, with grace as it floated through the September morning. Early day children laughed six floors below the oblivious couple as they rested in their bed, still wrapped in a different kind of warmth. A gentle snap resonated through the air as a leaf broke from a tree and followed the wind to a cracked window, and quiet panting gave a steady beat to the stillness of the bedroom. The two men in their bed listened willingly to the sounds of the earth, the sounds of their pasts.2

“Sweetness,” Kass muttered softly, barely audible over the lullaby which floated through the delicate room. Jeffrie, his French lover, was curled up in his arms, drenching himself in the comfortable warmth of another human and soft sheets.3

“Yes, my dearest?”4

“Why do you stay with me?” the man questioned, closing his icicle eyes and nuzzling Jeffrie before falling back to stillness.5

“Well, dear one, I stay because my god tells me I should, that you’ll all too soon be unhappy and that I need to keep you the way you are: beautiful. And besides, you love me, and I love you. You’re wonderfully sweet, artistic, foreign, handsome, and you are so interesting. Why do you ask?” Jeffrie curved his neck so that his lips were flush against the other man’s neck. He planted a few small kisses there before burrowing further into Kass’ skin.6

“You keep acting like I’m so amazing. But we both know that I’m not. If I thought I was amazing, I’d be like Anje, strutting around the place, singing some ridiculous song.”7

“That’s what I like about Anje. She’s got her own personality and she doesn’t care when others make fun of her.” Kass chuckled at Jeffrie’s answer and began to play with his fawn’s hair. “So you never gave me your answer.”8

“Oh. I just worry, you know. I’m always afraid someone else will come and try to take my place with you. I don’t want anyone else to love you like I do and I don’t want you to ever love anyone like you love me. I want my hands to be the only ones who hold your hands and I want my heart to be the only one to carry your heart. I don’t want to see another man try to take what I’ve marked as my own,” Kass whispered, almost ashamed but mostly genuine with his answer. Jeffrie couldn’t help but feel the conflicting love towards his jealous Kass and the anger towards the jealousy. “You don’t know how you’ve rescued me,” Kass whispered, only barely hoping Jeffrie would hear.9

“What do you mean?”10

“I was burning in the flames and only you could set me free. You freed the lion in his cage and turned him into a docile creature. On the outside at least. The wildness still runs like blood in my veins—a necessary part of me, continuous and restless—but perhaps you’ve tamed that tired and terrified beast?”11

Jeffrie shrugged noticeably and continued to rest. Something about those words, though, nagged at him until he could hardly stand it.12

“Kassy?”13

“Mmm?”14

“Who caged you?”15

“Don’t ask me that,” Kass demanded menacingly.16

“Why not? Why were you trapped?”17

“It was a metaphor, Jeffrie. Nothing else,” Kass growled.18

“But I know you. All your metaphors are about you.”19

"Damn it. Why does he never leave things alone?" Kass asked himself as he relinquished his grip on Jeffrie and turned around. Jeffrie sat up to face him, a look of indignation clear in his eyes.20

“Caged like a beast,” Jeffrie snorted. “You never follow through anymore. You never explain anything to me like you promised you would. I wish you would just do it.”21

Kass gasped as the last three words pierced his memory. How many times had he told himself to “just do it”? How many times had he heard her say it?22

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“Just do it, child! I know you hate him. Look how upset he is! Just do it! Put him out of his misery. You’ll be perfectly fine. Then you can do it to yourself. You can finally be “pulled from this insufferable hellhole!’” Kass’ mother cackled as she watched her youngest son hold the revolver aimed at his only remaining brother.24

The silver malice was ice in the gummy hands of the sixteen-year-old. Personal earthquakes erupted from his feet, moving to every inch of his body. As a result, tiny salt-water rivers flowed from those cold eyes.25

“Kass, we gonna play game, now?” Jens asked, staring innocently at his younger brother who was considering murder. “Why you crying, Kass? You don’t wanna play? Wanna play at park? Why you crying?”26

“Why did you live, Jens? Look at yourself! You’re twenty-one and you are so mentally ill. What’s the point of living, Jens? Can you tell me that? Are you satisfied with your life? You’ll never go anywhere so why do you go on?” the youngest screamed. Their mother leaned against the door to the living room and smirked.27

“Just do it, Kass. He’ll thank you later. Or you could stay here with him, trapped like a caged lion.”28

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“Kass! Kass, what’s wrong?” Jeffrie hovered above Kass, horror evident in his concerned doe-brown eyes.30

“Was? Was? Jeffrie?” Kass asked as he faded from the past.31

“You’re so shaky and sweaty. What happened?”32

“I—I don’t know.”33

“I thought you were having a fit or something. Are you okay?”34

“I—I can’t—I can’t breathe.” It was as though Kass had eaten a desert. His throat and mouth were so dry he felt constricted. “I n-need some water. Please.”35

Jeffrie nodded, eyes still wide as he quickly jumped from the bed. “Of course. I’ll get you some.”36

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“Ach mein Gott,” she whispered, her back to the accusing mirror. “You can do it. Just do it. One shot is all it takes. One shot away. It hurts so bad.” She swallowed hard as she raised the gun to fire for the fourth time. Her voice was already weak, her throat dry, her white carpet soaked with crimson.38

“Ach mein Gott,” Kass mouthed as his mother said the words again. He too was parched, forced to choke on dust. She held the same gleaming poison that had been pointed at all of her children and killed her husband. The air was too still, too tense as though the air itself was of the same countenance as Kass, frozen.39

He braced the doorway as the gun winked in the little pool of sunlight swimming through the window. Both mother and child shook violently as the metal caressed the woman’s head, kissing her. Kass closed his eyes and listened as his mother wept. He listened as the gun laughed once and both woman and weapon crashed to the floor. The carpet took in the leaking life as though it considered itself a thirsty plant. Soon, there was only a sea of red, drowning the islands of pale, pale skin and sickly silver suicide.40

When Kass finally opened his eyes, he could not scream like he wanted. He could not even remove his grip from the doorframe. It wasn’t until after Anje called the police and they arrived that he could let go and sink to the floor to let out the strangling tears.41

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“So much blood,” Kass muttered not moments before Jeffrie Durand walked in silently, clutching a glass of relief.43

“Danke,” he whispered after sloppily drinking the whole glass at once. Jeffrie slid his thumb along Kass’ lips to stop the dripping water.44

“Bitte. Are you sure you’re okay?”45

“I’ll be fine. Just let me avoid talking about it for now.”46

Jeffrie smiled, planting a small kiss on Kass’ damp forehead. With his mouth close to Kass’ ear, he said, “I’m here for you when you’re ready.”47

"You’ll never be ready for this," Kass thought grimly. "Never."48