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two crimestories
disappearing into the
girls’ bathroom, coming
out only a couple of
minutes before the next
class began. How was she
supposed to take it, if her
friends all turned their
backs on her?
It was clear that the
other kids’ parents were
the reason why Silvana
suddenly had nobody.
Since it was now official,
so to speak, the adults
were
openly
talking
about Herr Schneider and
Silvana’s mother. They
said that Silvana would
be a bad influence on
decent children. That Herr
Schneider should not be
allowed anywhere close
to young people. That
they had always seen it in
Silvana’s mother.
“What did you see?” I
wanted to know.
“She’s much younger than
her husband,” my mother
remarked, raising her
eyebrows expressively.
“And?”
“She’s only thirty,” she
said, her eyebrows now
trying to touch her
hairline.
“Somebody said she’s
thirty-three,” Papa cut
in, as he rustled his
newspaper.
“No one knows for sure,”
Mama replied, as she
energetically
smeared
margarine on a roll.
“And?” I asked again.
“You can do the math.
Thirty minus fourteen?”
“Come on. What if she’s
thirty-three?”
“Nobody knows. Or has