"Do you want to go?" Hänschen caught up to Ernst on the way out of school. He had noticed it all day, the way the other boy kept sneaking glances toward the church. The churchyard, if Hänschen had to make an educated guess. The cemetery.
Those places weren't for people like Hänschen, who believed in nothing but good sense. What was gone was gone and would turn to dust. God was a useful idea for managing people, religion was a great tool, but Hänschen merely observed these matters, he didn't believe. Faith was other people's burden or strength.
Such as Ernst's, who seemed troubled. "I will walk with you. We can lay down flowers, if you fancy it."
"I don't know if I want to go. I think I should but my body doesn't want me to." Ernst explained as he signed, mouthing the words slowly as he did so, his voice not much above a whisper. His head was so full of different words and lip movements that his brain was getting tired. As they walked together, he glanced in the direction of the cemetery.
"I'm only here because Moritz was worse. If Moritz was better, what would fate have for me?" It seemed like a fair question. All he had was his work ethic, he didn't have good grades and half the time, the teacher purposefully obscured his face to make it harder on him. Studying was hard and he was just as weak as Moritz.
At this rate, with his studies as they were, he'd never become a pastor. It was not possible.
"You are not like Moritz," Hänschen signed and said, his face showing a sudden intensity that had not been there before. That was rarely ever there as Hänschen preferred to approach life mildly, better for getting through it. He waved Ernst along, walking ahead of him but turned, so that he could keep signing.
"You are not alone either." He supposed Moritz must have felt alone and perhaps he had been. He would not have stood for it, Hänschen thought, wondering whether there really hadn't been anything Melchior could have done. Maybe, maybe not. What he knew was that he was a lot better at looking out for Ernst than that. "If Moritz was better, you would still have me."
Ernst smiled at Hänschen, touched by the sweetness of his gesture. That he would stand by him, even if he had failed. He wasn't sure how true it was but it was nice to hear. Much better than the usual strictness he faced with his studies. The options were to do well or to ruin his life. "I wish when we did Latin, he would look at me when he asks questions. I can learn to read his lips but I can't learn to hear."
As much as he would have loved to, it would have made his life significantly better. Moritz too. "Sometimes I feel like I am playing a game that I can not win. It's a little unfair." Just a little. Not too much. He didn't want to rock the boat.
"Then look at me, Ernst. Just sometimes. You can--" Hänschen paused and waited for Ernst to step closer, than he spoke, ever so clearly, while Ernst was close enough to touch. "--read my lips."
He raised his eyebrows, going back to signing along. "My pronunciation and enunciation is better than his anyway."
Hänschen had never believed in false modesty. He'd put it on for appearances, not something that was needed around Ernst. "Life is not just. You are right. And the game is rigged against you. However, that means it can be rigged. We just have to turn the tables."
"But you would have to sit closer to me." Ernst pointed out as Hänschen approached him, getting close, his lips stealing the focus. He couldn't help but stare at Hänschen's lips and think about kissing them. He knew, it was a sin. A terrible sin. Deviancy of the worst kind. Yet whenever Hänschen was there, he didn't care about it. He just wanted it.
Corruption really was a slippery slope and he had full of slipped and stumbled right down into it.
"I'm not as good as you at these things, Hänschen. Turning tables. Rigging games. I just hope people play nice."
"You are no good at it at all," Hänschen agreed, because it was a hard fact to ignore. He pointed at himself again. "That's why you need me. You always need me."
It was obvious. Hänschen wrapped an arm around Ernst briefly, so that he could coax him into walking again. The way up to the church, closer to the graveyard. He let go of him so he could sign. "I can sit closer to you now."
With Moritz gone, with Melchior gone. Things had been shaken up. "With Melchior expelled, I'm indisputably Klassenprimus now. I will tell the teachers that you are the least distracting. They don't have to know that is a lie. They want me to excel, so they will grant my request."
"You're so clever, it's really very impressive. You will excel no matter what." He knew that from how Hänschen just seemed to absorb all information and regurgitate it so readily when called upon. With understanding and clarity. Ernst could barely stumble through an explanation of anything, even if he studied all night.
As they walked into the graveyard, he paused and looked at the church for a few moments. He wondered if anyone was there today. Perhaps Father Kaulbach. He didn't much like Father Kaulbach.
He bit his lip and then looked towards where his friend was buried. "I haven't visited yet. I guess I am a bad friend."
"He's a worse friend, if you want to go by that. He's not going to visit anyone ever again." Hänschen hadn't been overly attached to Moritz, he had mostly gone through school not being overly attached to anyone. Other than Ernst, obviously. A friendly rivalry with Melchior, some jokes at Georg's expense and Otto was fun to watch. Then there was Moritz. Poor Moritz who couldn't handle the world.
He approached the gravestone and then crouched down close to it, his eyes on Ernst. "There's no point to dying. It just ends, everything."
Church was always a difficult time. He couldn't hear his cues, for obvious reasons, so he had to rely on whoever he happened to be next to that day. If they slacked, he slacked too. If they were diligent, so was he. He did not enjoy being a slacker, it tended to upset Priest Kaulbach. Like now. Those eyes kept burrowing into him and his heart was in his throat.
Ernst was very fortunate as he didn't have to try and speak right now. He mouthed the prayers as best he could follow and sang along to the hymms quietly. He forgot himself once and started to sign but the firm hand of the priest halted his hands.
The rest of the service went better, he didn't miss his cue to bring the Roman Missal and that seemed to win him back some favour. Not that he wanted favour from Kaulbach, no more than he wanted his anger. It was a no-win situation.
He looked out into the pews as they finished up their final prayer, his eyes falling on Hänschen. He was in the back, of course he was. He smiled very faintly at him and then swiftly looked away. This was not the place for love or lust. It was for repentance and worship.
Generally, church was dull more than anything else. Years ago, Hänschen had begun binding some other books with the bible cover, simply to bring them to church. He still did so, which brightened many a dull service. Though nothing brightened it quite as much as looking at Ernst every now and then. Watching him move. Watching his lips as he prayed and sang along and imagining stealing another kiss from those sweet rosebud lips.
His Ernst was so different during those times. So devout and focused. No wonder he barely ever looked his way. He could almost see him as a pastor then, but he remembered what a waste that would be in so many ways and he discarded the thought. No, he wanted better for Ernst than all that.
Hänschen looked attentive and devout enough for any casual observer. He wasn't like Melchior had been, not attending church. Needlessly earning the same kind of ire that had him expelled so easily. So here he was, at the service, and he watched. And he saw the pastor keeping Ernst from signing. He saw more touches than could ever be needed. And he was starting to dislike it a lot.
When he waited by the exit after the service, the back, where the altar boys would come out, he wore a frown and had crossed his arms. He had a pit in his stomach and he didn't care for it. Something was wrong.
After removing his robe, he folded it neatly and then saw the priest enter from the corner of his eye. He deliberately pretended he didn't see because that was the only protection he really had. Ernst folded the robe and set it neatly on the cupboard, turning around to see the priest far too close and mid speech. He couldn't keep up now he was entering at a mid point and his eyes widened greatly.
He was being asked for an answer, he had no personal space and he had to force his hands down by his side to avoid signing. "I have to go. I have tutoring with Hänschen."
He closed his eyes, as if he could frown out the answers but a hand was on his wrist and he panicked. He didn't like his hands being restrained and yet, Kaulbach never listened. He wasn't lying, he really did have tutoring with Hänschen. In an hour, perhaps, but even so. How did he remove himself from this?
It shouldn't take this long. And the other altar boys had left already, so it wasn't as if Hänschen could believe that Ernst was hanging back with them. So his frown deepened and he opened the door, stepping inside. He saw the Kaulbach so close to his Ernst and he schooled his voice, sounding deliberately ignorant. "Ernst?!"
Of course it would be stupid to actually call out like this for Ernst if it was about Ernst. It wasn't and Kaulbach let go of Ernst, sending Hänschen a look that was hard to read. Hänschen closed the distance, waving his hand to make sure he had Ernst's attention now. "I was waiting."
He heard anger in his voice, so it was good that he might just seem impatient.
When he saw Kaulbach move and there he was, Hänschen, he felt an immediate relief that swiftly got replaced with so many other feelings. Embarrassment, guilt, fear. He looked at the priest and the priest looked back with that look. That warning look. He always gave it him. When he signed, when his parents came to church, when he got too scared. He gulped and then looked back at Hänschen.
"I was finishing up cleaning. The books have to go back." He was careful not to sign, despite what they always did. It was just easier. He didn't welcome a conversation about it next time or he'd have to spend yet more time alone with Kaulbach.
He decided to be bold and not look at the priest, hoping he said nothing strict or insistent as he was happy to focus only on Hänschen. "We can leave now. I really must work on my vector calculations."
They needed to leave. He wanted to leave. He looked at Hänschen, wishing he could just take his hand as right now, his legs were heavy and it was a struggle.
"Thank you for the service today, father. It has given me so much to reflect upon. I'm excited for next week," Hänschen said, sounding quite sincere. He acted all the time, this was no different. When he signed and looked at Ernst, then it was more difficult to be the self he was supposed to be instead of who he truly was. But with this one? He could fake it with ease. "We went to service in the city a few weeks back and I've told my parents after that we are so blessed for having you here. I feel my soul has nothing to fear, being part of your flock."
Hänschen smiled and then looked over his shoulder to make sure Ernst was almost at the door. "Maybe I could attend a private bible study some time?" He asked it sweetly, innocently, in full possession of his boyish charms.
"Of course, son. I do private studies on Saturdays and Sundays. You can ask Ernst about the details. He comes often." Kaulbach helpfully informed Hänschen while Ernst made his way to the door, turning back and watching the way that Hänschen spoke to the priest. He had never thought of Hänschen as particularly spiritual, much like Melchior, but right now he seemed to be asking to study. Perhaps he read his lips wrong, he wasn't sure.
"Hänschen, we really must go." Ernst prompted as he had one foot out of the doorway and he had to make sure that Hänschen followed him. They were supposed to go to Hänschen's home. He could hardly go alone, could he?
"I'm coming," Hänschen called out, then he turned and put his hands into his pockets as he walked, mostly because he knew his Sunday suit well. He wore it every Sunday. He had worn it every Sunday for around two years now and while he had never grown quite enough to warrant his parents buying him a new one, he had certainly filled it out better. He had studied the way it sat and its effect and he'd have this lech stare at him from behind if it served its greater purpose.
Then he was out the door, next to Ernst immediately. He patted his shoulder to have his attention, because he wanted to sign. "He is wrong. Not you. Never you."
"See? Not so difficult." Hänschen approved of what Ernst had just written on his slate, this time not finding it necessary to correct anything. "You're going to ace the written German exam if you keep going like this. You just have to memorise a few phrases. All of these essays are essentially the same."
He reached for some of his papers, laying them out for his friend to peruse. "Have a look. See how many of them just sound similar to each other? They are not looking for anything original from us."
"You are so smart, Hänschen." Ernst signed as he looked through his papers, noticing different patterns and similar language use. He just had to learn the formula they wanted, as Hänschen had told him. It did help his grades get better so he was really hoping to fight his way up to a C before the Easter break.
"I would like to pass for the first time. I've never had a pass. Always one or two off Befriedigend. I know that's not the aim but I'll never get higher." It wasn't that he was down on himself, he just knew his limitations. He wasn't as smart and he couldn't keep everything in his head. And, worst of all, he got panicked during exams.
"If you study, read a lot and learn some phrases by heart, you can make it up a grade. I'm smart, right? So you can trust me." Might as well use that opinion Ernst held work in his favour. Hänschen watched him in silence for a while, letting him absorb his writing. Then he waved a hand near him to get his attention, so he'd be able to see him sign.
"You aren't more stupid than Otto, Otto just works harder. But he doesn't work smarter. You will work smarter from now on and you'll see. It will all work out for you."
Ernst pulled himself away from the philosophy essay to look at Hänschen. He wasn't so sure that he was right, Otto did seem a bit better than him so maybe he had some sort of instinct that he and Moritz clearly lacked. "I think I can be smarter with you but I'm not sure if that makes me smart or just lucky. Not everyone gets a Hänschen to help them."
If only Moritz had a Hänschen. Well, he did, but Melchior was apparently not the best tutor. It was unfortunate. "I just have to get better at my essay writing. And my diction for the oral exam. I'm terrible at those."
"You should not have to take the oral exam. He can learn sign language." Hänschen showed more anger than he normally did, so he calmed down with a deep breath and continued on. "You are more eloquent with signing than Otto or Moritz or anyone." He truly did believe that. "When you sign, you are a poet. You know how to make language work for you, they are simply hobbling you by expecting you to do it their boring old way."
He didn't like to see it, that anxiety on Ernst's face. So he added, in spite of what he had just said. "But your voice sounds very nice."
"Herr Sonnenstich says I sound like I have marbles in my mouth or a dog bit my tongue." Ernst laughed in a self deprecating way but it was upsetting. He wanted to just use his hands. When he could use his own language, everything just worked and connected. When he tried to speak, he couldn't hear what he was saying and so, it was hard to hear if he pronounced it correctly. It didn't feel fair. "Sometimes, I wish that as I signed, someone else could be my voice or a voice would appear. Then together, we would get through all the awkwardness of the world. Sometimes I think of 'my voice' as ... ghost? Like another part of me that is there but isn't."
It was a funny thought but one he had imagined since he was a child. A voice that could speak for him, that sounded correct and normal. That was simply the sound of his hands. "I hope one day, I can just use my hands."
"That is such a you idea. Sweet and poetic." As if instilling the very essence of Ernst into the sweetest fantasy he had ever heard. He could imagine it all too well now. Hänschen turned to properly face Ernst, quickly gathering up his essays and setting them aside so he could reach out and put his hands on Ernst's shoulders without the risk of wrinkling anything.
He sat there for a few moments, simply smiling at him. Then he let go so that he ciuld sign. "Does your voice like me, Ernst? Or does he think I'm a terrible, no-good influence?"
"I think that... he would think you are the best thing to happen to me. And when you kissed me, the voice spun around happily. It wants to get all the feelings out." And the voice could do that. As he flicked his hands, he conjured feelings and thoughts and the voice took them, expressed them. That was what made the idea special.
"And you bring a lot of feelings." Perhaps too many. He was in his dreams, his thoughts, his study breaks and lunch times. He felt like he was drowning in Hänschen and yet, he still felt like he didn't have enough of him.
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Those places weren't for people like Hänschen, who believed in nothing but good sense. What was gone was gone and would turn to dust. God was a useful idea for managing people, religion was a great tool, but Hänschen merely observed these matters, he didn't believe. Faith was other people's burden or strength.
Such as Ernst's, who seemed troubled. "I will walk with you. We can lay down flowers, if you fancy it."
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"I'm only here because Moritz was worse. If Moritz was better, what would fate have for me?" It seemed like a fair question. All he had was his work ethic, he didn't have good grades and half the time, the teacher purposefully obscured his face to make it harder on him. Studying was hard and he was just as weak as Moritz.
At this rate, with his studies as they were, he'd never become a pastor. It was not possible.
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"You are not alone either." He supposed Moritz must have felt alone and perhaps he had been. He would not have stood for it, Hänschen thought, wondering whether there really hadn't been anything Melchior could have done. Maybe, maybe not. What he knew was that he was a lot better at looking out for Ernst than that. "If Moritz was better, you would still have me."
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As much as he would have loved to, it would have made his life significantly better. Moritz too. "Sometimes I feel like I am playing a game that I can not win. It's a little unfair." Just a little. Not too much. He didn't want to rock the boat.
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He raised his eyebrows, going back to signing along. "My pronunciation and enunciation is better than his anyway."
Hänschen had never believed in false modesty. He'd put it on for appearances, not something that was needed around Ernst. "Life is not just. You are right. And the game is rigged against you. However, that means it can be rigged. We just have to turn the tables."
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Corruption really was a slippery slope and he had full of slipped and stumbled right down into it.
"I'm not as good as you at these things, Hänschen. Turning tables. Rigging games. I just hope people play nice."
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It was obvious. Hänschen wrapped an arm around Ernst briefly, so that he could coax him into walking again. The way up to the church, closer to the graveyard. He let go of him so he could sign. "I can sit closer to you now."
With Moritz gone, with Melchior gone. Things had been shaken up. "With Melchior expelled, I'm indisputably Klassenprimus now. I will tell the teachers that you are the least distracting. They don't have to know that is a lie. They want me to excel, so they will grant my request."
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As they walked into the graveyard, he paused and looked at the church for a few moments. He wondered if anyone was there today. Perhaps Father Kaulbach. He didn't much like Father Kaulbach.
He bit his lip and then looked towards where his friend was buried. "I haven't visited yet. I guess I am a bad friend."
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He approached the gravestone and then crouched down close to it, his eyes on Ernst. "There's no point to dying. It just ends, everything."
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Ernst was very fortunate as he didn't have to try and speak right now. He mouthed the prayers as best he could follow and sang along to the hymms quietly. He forgot himself once and started to sign but the firm hand of the priest halted his hands.
The rest of the service went better, he didn't miss his cue to bring the Roman Missal and that seemed to win him back some favour. Not that he wanted favour from Kaulbach, no more than he wanted his anger. It was a no-win situation.
He looked out into the pews as they finished up their final prayer, his eyes falling on Hänschen. He was in the back, of course he was. He smiled very faintly at him and then swiftly looked away. This was not the place for love or lust. It was for repentance and worship.
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His Ernst was so different during those times. So devout and focused. No wonder he barely ever looked his way. He could almost see him as a pastor then, but he remembered what a waste that would be in so many ways and he discarded the thought. No, he wanted better for Ernst than all that.
Hänschen looked attentive and devout enough for any casual observer. He wasn't like Melchior had been, not attending church. Needlessly earning the same kind of ire that had him expelled so easily. So here he was, at the service, and he watched. And he saw the pastor keeping Ernst from signing. He saw more touches than could ever be needed. And he was starting to dislike it a lot.
When he waited by the exit after the service, the back, where the altar boys would come out, he wore a frown and had crossed his arms. He had a pit in his stomach and he didn't care for it. Something was wrong.
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He was being asked for an answer, he had no personal space and he had to force his hands down by his side to avoid signing. "I have to go. I have tutoring with Hänschen."
He closed his eyes, as if he could frown out the answers but a hand was on his wrist and he panicked. He didn't like his hands being restrained and yet, Kaulbach never listened. He wasn't lying, he really did have tutoring with Hänschen. In an hour, perhaps, but even so. How did he remove himself from this?
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Of course it would be stupid to actually call out like this for Ernst if it was about Ernst. It wasn't and Kaulbach let go of Ernst, sending Hänschen a look that was hard to read. Hänschen closed the distance, waving his hand to make sure he had Ernst's attention now. "I was waiting."
He heard anger in his voice, so it was good that he might just seem impatient.
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"I was finishing up cleaning. The books have to go back." He was careful not to sign, despite what they always did. It was just easier. He didn't welcome a conversation about it next time or he'd have to spend yet more time alone with Kaulbach.
He decided to be bold and not look at the priest, hoping he said nothing strict or insistent as he was happy to focus only on Hänschen. "We can leave now. I really must work on my vector calculations."
They needed to leave. He wanted to leave. He looked at Hänschen, wishing he could just take his hand as right now, his legs were heavy and it was a struggle.
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Hänschen smiled and then looked over his shoulder to make sure Ernst was almost at the door. "Maybe I could attend a private bible study some time?" He asked it sweetly, innocently, in full possession of his boyish charms.
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"Hänschen, we really must go." Ernst prompted as he had one foot out of the doorway and he had to make sure that Hänschen followed him. They were supposed to go to Hänschen's home. He could hardly go alone, could he?
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Then he was out the door, next to Ernst immediately. He patted his shoulder to have his attention, because he wanted to sign. "He is wrong. Not you. Never you."
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He reached for some of his papers, laying them out for his friend to peruse. "Have a look. See how many of them just sound similar to each other? They are not looking for anything original from us."
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"I would like to pass for the first time. I've never had a pass. Always one or two off Befriedigend. I know that's not the aim but I'll never get higher." It wasn't that he was down on himself, he just knew his limitations. He wasn't as smart and he couldn't keep everything in his head. And, worst of all, he got panicked during exams.
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"You aren't more stupid than Otto, Otto just works harder. But he doesn't work smarter. You will work smarter from now on and you'll see. It will all work out for you."
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If only Moritz had a Hänschen. Well, he did, but Melchior was apparently not the best tutor. It was unfortunate. "I just have to get better at my essay writing. And my diction for the oral exam. I'm terrible at those."
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He didn't like to see it, that anxiety on Ernst's face. So he added, in spite of what he had just said. "But your voice sounds very nice."
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It was a funny thought but one he had imagined since he was a child. A voice that could speak for him, that sounded correct and normal. That was simply the sound of his hands. "I hope one day, I can just use my hands."
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He sat there for a few moments, simply smiling at him. Then he let go so that he ciuld sign. "Does your voice like me, Ernst? Or does he think I'm a terrible, no-good influence?"
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"And you bring a lot of feelings." Perhaps too many. He was in his dreams, his thoughts, his study breaks and lunch times. He felt like he was drowning in Hänschen and yet, he still felt like he didn't have enough of him.
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