Space-Time Story 27.

My darling drunken brother gets yet another change of wet, cold towel on his head. His own stupidity causing him additional headache prompts me to give him another pain killer. He looks like he is being tortured and when I ask him about lunch, he sends a murderous glance my way and disappears under the covers again.

„I can’t even think about food,“ he mumbles and starts to fall into a merciful sleep again.

Just before he manages to slip back into a dream land, I still need to ask him something. „Tomi.“ I sit carefully next to him on the bed. „Do we have any lawyer who handles our contracts with the publishers, record labels and similar matters?“

„Yeah, that would be Mark,“ a half-sleeping Tom says. „What do you need him for?“

---

„Ehm, nothing special… I think that I should tell him about the police interview. If it leaks to the press, he should be definitely informed about everything that had happened. What else does he take care of? A private personality protection and something like that?“ I´m trying to get as much information as possible from my drowsy brother and I hope that he won´t remember any of this particular conversation later.

„Yeah,“ Tom confirms. „He was also dealing with bribing off that nosy paparazzi. You should have his number in your cell phone as Mark Steiner… let me sleep now,“ he whines with his last strength.

I pull the covers all the way up under his chin and I am satisfied, I got what I needed. „Thanks bro and good night.“ I stroke his hair and close the door quietly when I leave the bedroom.

I make myself a cup of coffee and sit down with it in the living room. I put on our newest album and I listen to myself singing for a while, trying to understand the lyrics I had written a year ago. They are pretty sorrowful as I am listening to them, but I never wrote any other kind anyways. The lyrics were always either sad, all about love or daringly cocky, but nothing in between. I would like to get under the old Bill’s skin, the one who was urged to write something like this. Maybe I could also understand some of his complicated life he lived back then. He really must have been a completely different kind of person. He had to pull through a couple of really rough bumps on the road which I didn’t need to and it must have changed him. Having to live with a constant threat that someone´s blackmailing tactics might jeopardize the only true happiness in your life, taking away the only person you care for and love must be devastating and draining.

But why did he unleash that anger on his only love? I still don’t get it. He did everything in his power to protect Tom from finding out about his indiscretion, but at the same time he behaved towards him… well, how to put it… weirdly?

Tom mentioned that he had a feeling that old Bill had already stopped loving him. I am not sure what to think about it, but it seems pretty strange to me. He was just probably scared shitless and was quite bad at hiding it. That must have been it.

I listen to lyrics of a song called ‚Why?‘ It´s about betrayal, hate, but also about hope that everything is going to work out again one day even if it doesn’t look like it right now. It´s possible that I wrote it while I was depressed, but the lyrics aren’t very revealing or concrete, all the words are just metaphors evidently replacing some unpleasant experience in my life. Maybe it had something to do with Karin.

Oh god, it´s here again. I feel another flashback of old memory approaching; I will be probably reminded of another mistake I had made in my previous old life.

-flashback-

I am climbing up the stairs of that old dirty house again and I´m angry with the whole world. Karin called again and made me rush to her to give her more money for booze. She treats me like her servant and I obey. I can’t stand her. If she only disappeared somehow. I would have a peace of mind and I could stop shaking each and every time our door bell rings, or Tom´s cell phone buzzes. I don´t believe a word she says and I still wait for that one day when, she, in her alcohol induced state, will call Tom´s number and tell him everything.

Why does this all have to happen to me? I am not asking for too much do I, I don’t want anything. I just want to love Tom and be left alone by the rest of the world that doesn’t wish us well… She’s a threat to us that could destroy our lives and I´m not able to take care of that situation any other way than by paying her for keeping her silence over and over again. My only hope is that she´s going to drink herself to death one day and that will be it. It´s terrible to think so, but it would be my salvation.

I ring her door bell and stare at her ugly, scratched door feeling disgust and rage rising within me. Even her name on the door is revolting… everything in this house is hideous.

Nothing is happening. I press the bell button harder and angrily kick my heels at the dirty floor tiles. When even after a few more minutes of waiting nothing seems to happens, I press my ear flat against the door surface and try to listen, searching for any noises coming from her flat, but all I can hear is silence. Maybe she is so far gone that she isn’t even able to stand up. Why did she call me then, if she doesn’t even try to come to open the door for me. I am about to leave with an intention to drop the envelope with money to her mail box downstairs, when a door next to Karin’s creaks behind my back… Oh my God, it is some nosy old hag. The last thing I need right now is for someone to see me here and call the reporters. How would I talk myself out of it? I put a hood of my jumper over my head and I am about to run down the stairs as fast as possible to avoid her curious eyes and risk the chance to be recognized.

„Are you looking for someone?“ She sticks out her nose from behind the door and I can see she is holding a small child in her arms.

„No, thanks for asking. She´s not probably at home,“ I answer shortly and angle my head so she can’t see my face. I am wearing dark sunglasses but people often recognize me regardless.

„She must be at home. I am sure of it. Only half an hour ago she came and asked me to take care of her boy as she usually does. She didn’t mention she would be leaving the house, but you know; she was… how should I say it properly… a little bit tired, so she is just probably sleeping now not hearing the bell,“ the old gossip lady speculates as she carefully shifts the child in her arms. The little boy is falling asleep with his head on her shoulder. What did she just say? That Karin asked her to babysit her boy? But Karin doesn’t have a child, what the hell is she talking about?

„I guess it must be a mistake. She doesn’t have a child,“ I reply quickly and I´m already on the fifth stair, trying to leave this place.

„You are looking for Miss Fischer, aren’t you? This is her son.“ She motions with her head towards the sleeping child and I freeze on a spot in the middle of my step. That´s not possible, why wouldn’t she tell me that she had a child?

„Maybe you don´t know her that well, do you?“ The old woman grins slyly at me and watches me as I am returning cautiously to her door, disbelief and shock imprinted in my face.

Something is definitely off in here and I have to find out. Why wouldn’t she mention to me that she had a child? I could care less. She got probably knocked up by another drunk head. Or perhaps… no, that´s not possible, that can‘ be.

„How old is he?“ I ask carefully and stroke the child’s hair. He is sleeping like an angel, with a thumb in his mouth.

„He will be two in four weeks,“ she says, beaming with pride and joy, as if it were her own child. She starts to step slowly back into the safety of her apartment.

„Don´t you want to come inside for a chat?“ the woman suggests, but I have no spare time. In half an hour I have to be on the other side of Berlin and shoot a new video clip. As for now, I´m already late. Karin called me at the most inappropriate time, but she always does that.

„No, thanks, I have no time, I better be going. May I leave something for Karin with you though?“ I ask her as I am already handing over the white envelope with money to her.

„But of course… I will give it to her. It´s something important, isn’t it?“ She smiles and I feel like agent 007 making a top secret transaction. Maybe I look like that too, covered by the hood and dark shades.

„Yes, it´s important,“ I assure her and look at her with exaggerated intensity. I can only hope she won’t be tempted to peek inside the envelope or possibly even take some of the money. „Umm, thank you for your help. I really should be going. What´s his name?“ I point at the sleeping boy as I slowly retreat towards the stairs.

„Davey,“ she answers with a smile and closes the door carefully not to wake him up.

I am rushing down the stairs. I get in the car and I sit on the driver’s seat stunned. „Davey,“ the sound of his name echos in my ears and I´m counting frantically in my head. Shit, that bloody math, it´s my curse… a year has twelve months… he will be two in one month… two times twelve minus one… plus nine months… oh my god… if I didn’t miss something out of the equation, the date of the conception would overlap exactly with that damn party at the Hilton hotel! No, it can´t be! She tricked me! That bitch! She didn’t get the abortion!

I wake up from a state of haziness and confusion and I sit here stunned and frozen… exactly the same reaction what I felt when I was sitting in the car in front of her house in my memory flashback. So he knew. He found out. How come is David still at the orphanage then? I smash my fist into the table in front of me, anger consuming my whole being. Was I really such a bastard that when I found out that I had a son I didn’t move a finger? I can’t believe it, I wouldn’t do it. He surely did something, he must have. I felt it in the passing of the memory. He was surely going to do something. I have to search the flat, I have to find some information, it can´t go on like this. There have to be some documents, photos, other things.

Tom showed me a cabinet in the living room that was full of folders and files with contracts. I open it now and read the titles on stickers that neatly mark each folder… only years… the contracts organized by year, but… oh, there´s one ‚Personal‘ folder right in front of me. There could be something in it. What I find is my and Tom’s birth certificates, school certificates, graduation diplomas… damn… that´s all. Where would I put something I wouldn’t want Tom to find? I must have a secret hiding place somewhere.

My bag… one of the side compartments is closed, but it´s empty. Nothing. What about clothes? Tom would never mess with my walk-in wardrobe. I poke around behind endless piles of t-shirts aligned pedantically next to each other, behind jeans and in my underwear drawers. I don’t find anything. Shoes next. Where are my shoes… but no, it´s not possible to hide anything behind my shoes. I search randomly in my underwear drawer again… oh, what’s that… I´m holding something in my hand. I bring it carefully out to the light of the bedroom. A single white envelope. It could be what I am looking for.

I look inside… papers. I close the walk-in closet and I return to the sofa in the living room. My hands are trembling. I am about to enter a secret chamber of the old Bill’s life. I pray for the best. I unfold the papers carefully and put them on the table. The first one my hand reaches for is ‚A request for a paternity test‘. What?

‚We confirm that Bill Kaulitz, born September 1st, 1989, is the biological father of the child: David Fischer, born June the 25th, 2011 in Dresden.‘
A sign, a stamp, the date: February 23rd, 2014.

Yeah, so it´s certain. I´m David´s father. I feel so happy. I look through the other papers quickly.
Something from the social services office. It looks like a filled in information form when an application is to be granted… foster care application… David Fischer… mother: Karin Fischer… father: unknown. What´s next? My eyes are sweeping quickly over the paper… alcohol, use of drugs… a request for foster care made by the biological father… temporary institutional placement. It looks like it was me who reported her. It´s my fault that Davey is in the orphanage. Who gave me this advice? Of course, I should have known, it was my lawyer Mark Steiner. He must have been the one who coordinated the whole act. Maybe this was the only way how to do it, I know absolutely nothing about how these things work.

The next paper I find is ‚Trial in case of foster care handling‘ from March, 2014. As a reason for foster care trial there is mentioned alcoholism of the mother of the child and a positive paternity test of the applicant. Oh god, that would mean that the case is already at the court and judicial process has started. I go through the papers some more and my eyes almost pop out when I find an invitation to the court this coming Monday at ten o´clock AM. It´s the first hearing, so nothing has happened yet. Now I really have to call my lawyer. Maybe we already have a plan, it’s about the time to find out.