Nothing was in order, nothing optimal. Germany was awash with refugees and adventurers. Only Angie could hold it together; but then she opened the gates! Who knows why? Other politicians were dinosaurs in the museum. Integration was the solution, was it? That sounded like colonizing Jupiter and curing cancer by Tuesday. Rape was on the up because … rape laws were embarrassingly weak. And only Germany would do.
It was as if Angela Merkel PhD was delivering a scientific paper; slow, logical, laborious. The conference hall held about 200 people, the faithful, pundits and journalists. TV screens and lights glared. The audience hung on every word. A camera man on the left edged closer. Suddenly it all went black. When the light returned, Angela was gone. Security panicked. Close all the exits and check again.
Herta, Herta, Herta chanted Ursula and her sons. Herta Berlin’s victory today was as rare as virgin births. Truly remarkable and reason for partying all night. Put a sock in it, rasped President Gauch. I called this emergency cabinet meeting because Chancellor Merkel has vanished. Shocked silence. Security, have you any news? Is this a kidnapping in response to the refugee crisis? Are there media claims of responsibility? No, none. Silence. Well then, you have 48 hours to find Merkel or elect a new Chancellor. Be ready. Of course, Security will detain the usual suspects; we already have.
Lata and Kali Metha were cooking, bopping to the music; Raj hummed along. It was a sixties Bollywood song, like Cliff Richard’s Summer Holiday but better. Prehistoric, thought Rohan aged 15. He wanted to try the techno music at the FreiHaus disco instead. For that, he needed a German girlfriend; ssh, that is a secret.
The Germans want to beat China at every kind of trade, so I Raj will apply as a China manufacturing consultant. Lata added that I will apply as a China marketing specialist. Kali, the goddess of fire, clicked her tongue; we are from Madras. If you do that, you will be caught and fired. Raj and Lata laughed; old people do have some strange ideas! Employment is simply a matter of telling employers what they want to hear.
A knock on the door. Lotte from the local church council bids them welcome. She is surprised to learn they are not asylum seekers. Another knock: Three neo-Nazis in skinhead gear. What do we see here, says one? Dirt. Then what do we do? Clean it! Lotte hits the floor, bleeding. Screams, shouting and punches.
Behind the FreiHaus runs a long alley. A drunk is pissing against the wall, but he hears them coming and holsters. Arrest for indecent exposure would spoil his drinking. Sister Maria and Sister Karmel are doing their nightly patrol for human rubbish: the drugged, abandoned, lost. Cigarette? he asks. Pshoo, you stink to high heaven!
Over there on the left. A young girl half hidden, blood streaming from her hair and mouth, her blouse undone, her hand twisted. You, help us! Maria orders the stinker. Together, they drag her to the nuns’ van. Ok, 5 euros then.
Reverend Mother Nida is praying. Two nuns enter and bow. It is the girl, isn’t it? She is in a coma. We are worried about her head injuries. She has been beaten and … Yes, call a doctor here now. Female and confidential.
Reverend Mother, there is something more, something extraordinary. Oh! In her bag we found a student card, a driver’s licence, a pass card and a communist party membership card under the name of Angela Merkel, and drugs. The documents do not look like cheap fakes. Another nun enters. News flash: Chancellor Angela Merkel has vanished. Have we two Angela Merkels, one young and one old? Did Merkel senior have a lovechild, or are the documents stolen? Or time warp …
The doctor decides the girl has no broken bones, and best rests here for now. The coma is her concern. It will pass.
Later…Three Security men burst in, demanding Mother Superior hand the girl over to them at once. No way. She refuses and calls Monseigneur Paul for help. An idea for a compromise comes to them. Let Security take and examine the documents, come what may. Security wants DNA and photos too, but the girl has gone.
Wolfie, is that you? cries a girl. An exchange of gunfire. No comment from the police. Drug-related violence is never reported. The Neo-Nazi headquarters burns to the ground. What a surprise! Kali shrugs.
Bio
A man’s a man wrote Berthold Brecht. That covers it for Peter Wright, now writer.