Calyx E-Book

Pascal Ringstahl

• Herausgeber: tredition
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 206

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2024

Beschreibung

#3 Calyx is the story of an unlikely friendship: Armin, a good-looking, ambitious young man who has just passed his A-levels with a very good grade point average of 1.0, is doing his community service in a municipal hospital. A big secret is made about a room in which little Dennis is lying. He is infected with an incurable and deadly virus. The virus is transmitted through blood and bodily fluids. Due to his isolation from the outside world and the ruthless control of Doctor Pneuma, he has developed into a little monster. However, Armin does not let this stop him and with patience he wins the little boy's trust. His girlfriend Ruth is not impressed. She tries to stop Armin from doing so because she fears infection. But eventually she also succumbs to the charm and maliciousness of little Dennis, and a close friendship begins that must withstand many adventures outside the supposedly safe hospital until the end. A novel about friendship and respect with a lot of humor, drama, suspense and adventure. Nothing in life can be planned; things always turn out differently than you think!

Leseprobe

In memory of Heike † 15.11.2016

… there was still so much to do, so much you wanted to do, because there was still time, but there wasn't enough time. We would have loved to have laughed, cried, celebrated, traveled, dreamed, drank, eaten, shopped, danced, smoked and lived with you ad infinitum. We all thank you for the time you spent with us and simply for being who you were. We will never forget you and wait every day for you to give us a sign of your humor …

Pascal Ringstahl

CALYX

© 2025 Pascal Ringstahl

Cover, illustration: Pascal Ringstahl

Editing, proofreading: Pascal Ringstahl

Translation: Pascal Ringstahl

Printed and distributed on behalf of the author Pascal Ringstahl:

tredition GmbH, Halenreie 40-44, 22359 Hamburg, Germany

ISBN

Paperback

978-3-384-45443-0

Hardcover

978-3-384-45444-7

e-Book

978-3-384-45445-4

The work, including its parts, is protected by copyright. The author Pascal Ringstahl is responsible for the content. Any use without his consent is prohibited. Publication and distribution are carried out on behalf of the author Pascal Ringstahl, who can be contacted at: tredition GmbH, Department "Imprint Service", Halenreie 40-44, 22359 Hamburg, Germany.

Table of contents

Cover

Dedication

Title Page

Copyright

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Calyx

Cover

Dedication

Title Page

Copyright

Chapter 1

Chapter 15

Calyx

Cover

1

2

3

4

5

6

7

8

9

10

11

12

13

14

15

16

17

18

19

20

21

22

23

24

25

26

27

28

29

30

31

32

33

34

35

36

37

38

39

40

41

42

43

44

45

46

47

48

49

50

51

52

53

54

55

56

57

58

59

60

61

62

63

64

65

66

67

68

69

70

71

72

73

74

75

76

77

78

79

80

81

82

83

84

85

86

87

88

89

90

91

92

93

94

95

96

97

98

99

100

101

102

103

104

105

106

107

108

109

110

111

112

113

114

115

116

117

118

119

120

121

122

123

124

125

126

127

128

129

130

131

132

133

134

135

136

137

138

139

140

141

142

143

144

145

146

147

148

149

150

151

152

153

154

155

156

157

158

159

160

161

162

163

164

165

166

167

168

169

170

171

172

173

174

Chapter 1

The muffled school bell of the grammar school rang out. For most pupils, this was the redeeming start to the best part of the day: free time. Spring was here, the sun was shining and wiping away the dark, busy days of winter. The Year 13 students, aged 18 and 19, stormed out of the classroom. They were laughing and looking forward to enjoying the rest of the day free from school worries. Two less ambitious students were talking loudly as they left the classroom. “I got a D. I can't believe that. A D! Yes!” “Well, you were lucky. You'll still get your A-levels after all.” He nodded in agreement and they both high-fived, as if the day and their future had been secured for the foreseeable future. The class was deserted and the corridor was quiet. But not all the students were happy with their grades. Armin was used to bringing home straight A's. So he was all the more annoyed and incomprehensible that he didn't get any this time. The teacher stood behind his desk, leaning on it with his hands and looking up and down at Armin, who was standing in front of him with his arms crossed and a backpack on his shoulders. The teacher looked away from Armin to his blue class book, which was lying on the desk next to his briefcase. “No. There's no way I'm giving you an A+. Your exam is very good, but it's not top notch.” Armin grimaced grimly. He always tried to remain polite, he had learned that, because that was the best way to convince people. “I'm not happy with the grade at all. I need this A+, otherwise I'll never have an average grade of 1.0 on my school-leaving certificate,” he replied, looking at the teacher kindly but firmly with his dark green eyes. The teacher knew the game. In his 30-year career, he had already met too many different pupils for that. At some point, his favorite students were the ones who managed to get a D by the skin of their teeth and always just got by. Or the mediocre ones who didn't complain. But the ones who were really good, who were more than just nerds, they always wanted everything. Always, there was no exception. Anything that didn't meet their expectations was like a defeat, a misunderstanding of their own personality and intelligence. Annoyed, he turned around and wiped the blackboard to distract himself and stay calm. Because students like that could really drive him up the wall. “A grade point average of 1.0? Who needs something like that? Why are you so ambitious, Armin? What do you want to be, why do you need this super average? A Doctor?” he asked, looking at Armin over his shoulder as he calmly continued to wipe the blackboard. Secretly, he thought about just turning around and giving him a straight A to end the conversation. But somehow he didn't want to. Armin was the best in the class, in some things even better than the teacher himself, both in terms of knowledge and preparation. But that also made the teacher angry inside. He remembered how Armin had once reprimanded him when he had said something wrong about amoebas. No, he would not correct Armin's mark. What was he going to do? He, the teacher, simply had the upper hand. He smiled without Armin being able to see it. “No, judge. The best there is,” said Armin. He thought about it. Had he just said that in the right tone of voice or did it sound a little contemptuous? Why be a Doctor? Judge, justice, fairness in the awarding of school grades, that's what he wanted to be. He had studied and researched for weeks for this paper, put in so much effort and felt it was an injustice that the teacher didn't want to acknowledge it. The teacher stopped wiping the board, put the sponge in the tray under the board, shook his head and turned around. “Fine. But you don't need an A+ in biology for that. Now please leave. We can talk more tomorrow, if you haven't forgotten by then. I don't have time now, I'm sorry.” The teacher turned around without waiting for Armin's answer, took the sponge from the compartment under the blackboard, looked at it and went to the sink to wring out the cloth. He smiled again without Armin being able to see it. Armin reacted energetically and looked at the teacher, although his back was turned. “But now I want to talk to you …” The teacher's hidden smile disappeared. Annoyed, he turned around and interrupted Armin. “We'll talk more tomorrow,” he said firmly and turned back to the sink. Armin took his exam booklet from the desk and walked past the teacher without saying a word. He looked after him, shaking his head, and said: “Take it easy, Armin. You're the only one who got an A. Isn't that enough?” Armin said nothing and went out the door. Once in the hallway, he said quietly to himself: “No, not quite yet.” Armin took a deep breath and pushed the thought aside, otherwise it would ruin his whole day. He continued down the long corridor to the end and looked over the parapet down into the school's huge auditorium. He was at the top, on the second floor. Down in the hall, he could see the students walking aimlessly up and down for him. His eyes wandered searchingly from one pupil to the next. Then he spotted Ruth. Down there, in a group of schoolgirls, she was standing: Blonde, naturally wavy hair that fell to her narrow back, nickel glasses, red hoodie, ripped jeans, sneakers, a leather backpack over her shoulder. He had to smile inwardly when he saw her. She was desirable, slim and very tall, but she always had to dress as if she wanted to hide her beauty under her disguise. He sprinted towards the stairs that led down to the assembly hall. As he was about to take the first step, two classmates came towards him. “Hey Armin, did you still get the A+?” asked one of them, stopping on the penultimate step. “Of course,” replied Armin briefly and succinctly. “Wow, then you're the best in the course,” said the other student, pulling his upper lip in mockery. “Yeah, I worked hard for that too,” he said, interrupting the conversation by walking around the two of them and down the stairs. Ruth was talking to her classmates about the latest gossip at school. There was a rumor going around that one of the PE teachers had groped an underage girl. They all had to laugh because the allegedly groped girl wasn't exactly pretty and the PE teacher could certainly have had something better. One of the girls then mockingly grabbed herself. “He could have had me in a minute, we're all over 18!” She licked greedily with her tongue between her V-shaped fingers. Ruth laughed. The girl pulled her tongue out from between her fingers and pointed behind Ruth. “Hey Ruth, here comes your lover.” Ruth turned around expectantly, pursed her lips and asked in astonishment: “Where?” She couldn't see him because a pillar of the staircase was hiding Armin. “There on the stairs. Are you blind or what?” Now Ruth had seen him too. Her heart sank. She was so in love with this boy. For years now. She would do anything for him. He with his green eyes, very light blond hair and pale skin. All wrapped up in a very athletic, muscular body. “Yes, here he comes. Oh, he looks depressed again.” She could immediately see from Armin's face that he was annoyed about something. He never scolded or shouted. He just grimaced. Ruth turned back to the girl, looked at her and said forcefully: “If there's only one stupid remark now.” The girl gave Ruth a mischievous look: “Finish him off! You bitch!” Ruth broke away from the group and went to the stairs to greet Armin. She had already thought of a few comforting words. It could only be about some notes, otherwise Armin never had any problems. Armin came down the last few steps of the stairs and was already standing in front of Ruth, who was smiling happily. She wanted to hug and squeeze him, she would have liked to plant a big kiss on the narrow lips of his striking, athletic face, but Armin didn't ask, and once again she didn't dare. “Man, are you down. What's happened again? Biology?” she asked, and she could see from the look on his face that she had hit the bull's eye. “Yes. It's bad too. I only got an A again.” Ruth laughed slightly. “Only an A? Goodness, I'm lucky if I get a F+ in biology of all subjects. Hello, an A is fine with you.” Armin looked at her, stunned. How could she compare herself to him? He had never had an F before. His worst grade ever was a B in art class for an elephant lamp that didn't light up. But he didn't want to talk to her about that now. She was the person who had always stood by him and he didn't want to upset her now. “Oh, let's not talk about that.” “You're right. But I have to tell you again that you're far too ambitious. You're forgetting everything else.” Armin thought about it. “Like what, for example?” “Us … your voluntary social year,” Ruth replied. It hit Armin like a bolt of lightning. He had really forgotten about that. So the VSY service. He'd really overlooked the “us”. He had noticed, yes, but today was not a good day to think about it. “I hadn't thought about that. Yes, I wanted to apply for a job at the hospital here in our town.” “Yes, and luckily I'm here and I've thought of everything. There's still a vacancy here at the hospital. How about driving over there right now?” Ruth knew Armin's timetable inside out. If he had a free period or finished early, she would skip class or write herself an excuse. All just to be near him. Armin thought about it. “But I don't have all my papers with me.” Ruth waved him off. She knew the game. If he wasn't perfectly prepared, he wouldn't do it. But if she mentioned that someone might beat him to it, he might bite. “That doesn't matter. You'd better go now. Don't let anyone else take your place.” Armin began to think and weigh things up. “But actually, I should be going home now.” “Oh come on. Your parents aren't home anyway, you told me yesterday. So after your visit to the hospital, you'll come and see me and I'll cook you something delicious. Well?” Ruth hoped that he wouldn't be able to say no to this suggestion. “Not a bad idea. Yes, that's good. It doesn't cost anything to ask.” “Deal?” “Yes, it's a deal. Then I'm off now.” Armin patted Ruth on the back once more, breathed a “See you soon” into her ear and walked straight to the school exit. Ruth was completely confused at how quickly he had disappeared and looked after him disappointed because he hadn't even hugged her goodbye. Through the large windows of the assembly hall, she could see him walking across the schoolyard to the bike racks. “Oops, he's about to take off,” she said grumpily to herself and grimaced. Then she shrugged her shoulders and rejoined her classmates.

Chapter 2

Armin opened the lock on his bike, a modern, sporty mountain bike, pulled it out of the bike stand and sat on the saddle. As he was about to set off, a group of girls approached him. They were the complete opposite of Ruth: dressed provocatively, miniskirts, heavy make-up and looked like they were about to hit the streets behind the school. Armin didn't feel like talking to them because he had a goal. But the girls were blocking his way. The girl with the most make-up of all put her manicured hands on Armin's bike handlebars. “Well, are you off already,” she said, chewing her gum. Armin grinned at her and rummaged in his denim jacket for his headphones. “Did any of you watch the tennis last night?” he asked, knowing that no one had. “No, I'm not staying up all night for that. What's the point? There are much cooler things to do,” she said, batting her eyelashes seductively. “The game was sensational, you really missed out. And how are your A-level preparations going?” asked Armin. “Thanks, good and with you,” she replied, knowing that she was one of the most intelligent girls at this school, even if her clothes and demeanor suggested otherwise. “Yeah, good too. I think I can manage my average of 1.0. And you, what kind of average do you have?” Armin asked arrogantly. “Well, about 1.5. But something else, what are you doing tonight? We've arranged to go clubbing.” “Oh, that reminds me, I don't have any time at all. Bye,” Armin interrupted the girl and set off. As he drove hands-free from the schoolyard, he put on his headphones.

Armin rode his bike very fast and swiftly on the shortest route to the hospital. He cut off many pedestrians in the pedestrian zone, one man's shopping bag fell out of his hand because of him and the entire contents rolled and rattled across the asphalt. But Armin completely ignored it. The music and the adrenaline that was building up inside him made him forget his surroundings. He felt invincible on his mountain bike at that moment. He rode through red lights, cars slowed down because of him and he had the feeling that from now on he would succeed at everything. He reached the hospital, parked his mountain bike in front of the hospital and walked up the steps to the entrance. There were many visitors and patients in front of the hospital, enjoying the sun in the sky, drinking coffee or smoking. Armin walked past them. The sliding doors opened and he entered the foyer. He looked at the reception desk, took the headphones out of his ears and put them in his denim jacket. The hospital receptionist hated her day-to-day work. She had hoped for more in her future. She had been in this hospital for thirty years now, always behind the glass: day and night, working shifts, and all just to answer questions. She looked up from her crossword puzzle when someone cleared their throat in front of the glass. Armin gave her a friendly, questioning look. “I've come about a position for a voluntary social year that I'd like to fill.” “I see. Who wouldn't want that!” she replied ironically. “Any previous experience?” At this question, she tapped her crossword puzzle with a ballpoint pen. Armin understood. She didn't really feel like helping him. “No, I haven't. I …” She rolled her eyes again, glancing at her crossword. “Whatever. Room 053,” she said briefly and added the word “moron” out loud to the question “Another word for fool” in her crossword puzzle. Armin looked around helplessly. “Where is the room?” “Right over there,” the receptionist pointed and waved her pen down the corridor without even looking up from her crossword. Armin remained polite. “Fine, thanks,” he said and walked down the hall through another open glass door. The modern corridor looked very cool and sterile, as in any hospital. There were hardly any patients in the blue and white corridors. Armin went through another glass door and finally reached a room with the number 053 on the door. The jacket was on. Gripping his backpack tightly, he knocked on the door. No one said “Come in” or anything else. He opened the door without knocking again and peeked in through the crack. There was a woman sitting at a desk, typing and looking at him in astonishment. “For a voluntary social year?” Armin asked curtly, as he didn't want to disturb the woman. “No, room 093.” “Where is that?” “Right back there,” she pointed with her finger and seemed slightly annoyed with Armin. Armin pulled the door shut again and went to room 093. When he asked there, he was sent back to room 053 with an unfriendly look on the clerk's face. When Armin stood in front of the door, he wanted to knock, but didn't. He took a deep breath, turned around and went back to reception and the receptionist, who was still bored and solving the crossword puzzle. She bobbed the pen back and forth between her fingers without looking at him. “Again,” she growled through the glass. She glanced at her crossword and filled in another field. “Complete idiot,” she whispered quietly to herself, but still loud enough for Armin to hear her. “Room 053 was probably wrong. I was sent away,” he said. “The colleague must have misunderstood something. Room 053 is absolutely correct!” “Thank you,” Armin hissed quietly, turned around and went straight back to room 053. This time he didn't stop in front of the door, knocked fleetingly, opened the door without hearing any invitation to enter, went straight to the now empty desk and sat down on a chair in front of it. A woman came out of an adjoining room, walked past Armin and sat down at the desk opposite him with a questioning and already irritated look on her face. “I was told at reception that I'm in the right place for a voluntary social year position.” The clerk picked up a pencil and played around with it a little. She briefly considered whether she should send Armin to another room, but then decided against it. She began the conversation angrily and somewhat hastily. “Yes, you've come to the right place. Excuse me, I didn't quite understand your question a few minutes ago. Well, what do you want to do here with us?” “To do my social year as a nurse. Only if that's possible, of course.” “Yes, you're in luck, we still have a place available. What was the result of your voluntary examination?” The clerk took an ashtray out of the drawer, put it on the table and lit a cigarette. Armin looked at her in confusion. He wanted to say something, to point out to her that smoking was forbidden in hospitals, but then he bit his tongue lightly. He didn't want to start an argument before he had secured his VSY place. “Fitness level 2.” “Well, then all I really need is your name and address and then we can make an appointment for you to sign the contract, which I will then draw up. Oh, that reminds me, what religion are you?” “Does that matter? Catholic.” The clerk took a pleasurable drag on her cigarette and blew the smoke directly in Armin's direction. He waved the smoke away slightly. “Isn't smoking forbidden in this building?” he asked. The clerk just smiled condescendingly. “Good, then nothing stands in the way. When can you come back? Can it be tomorrow?” “Yes, that's fine.” “Good, then I'll need your name and address. Do you have your papers with you?” “No, unfortunately not, but I'll bring them with me tomorrow.” “Yes, that's fine. Name?”

After what felt like ten passively smoked cigarettes and almost twenty minutes of questioning, Armin was finally able to leave the room and walked down the corridor towards the exit, coughing slightly. A slightly stocky, red-haired boy with a beard approached him: the nurse Tobias. Armin wanted to walk past Tobias, but he stood in his way, looked at him kindly and asked: “Are you here as an VSY?” “Yes, why? What makes you think that?” “Oh, just like that. You came out of room 053 and the woman there only processes applications like that. So, did you get the job?” “Yes, I did. Are you also an VSY volunteer?” “Yes, for six months. It's a lot of fun, but you'll see when you start. When then?” “When I graduate from high school. That's still about two months away.” Tobias wanted to say something else to Armin, but Armin touched him briefly and amicably on the shoulder, even though he didn't know him, and said: “Right, see you then. See you around. Bye.” Armin walked quickly past Tobias, smiling with satisfaction that he had gotten out of what he saw as a pointless situation so well and quickly. He walked past the receptionist, who was still solving crossword puzzles, through the glass entrance door and then to his chained mountain bike. Just as he pulled his headphones out of his pocket, a car honked and he heard someone shout “Hey” loudly. Armin turned around because the voice sounded familiar. He looked a little puzzled, but then smiled and walked towards a white, very old but extremely well-maintained VW Golf