Erik

Erik squeezes his mother's hand tighter, and it feels as if he can't hold on tight enough. He rocks nervously from one leg to the other. His black, cropped hair shines, freshly washed and combed in the light. Madeleine had spent almost the entire previous evening getting him into the bathtub - a task he found just as difficult as putting on his new clothes. A child's plaster with little ladybugs is stuck over the inflamed scar above his upper lip. They seem just as out of place against his childlike innocence as the many other hings about him he simply can't explain.
Today, for the first time, he is not wearing worn-out jogging pants, which he had long since outgrown. Instead, the skinny boy is wearing new, freshly washed jeans that fit his size and a sweater that is a little too big but features a prominent T-Rex. It is the first sweater he has chosen for himself - for the start of school.

He can hardly wait. At last, he can go to school. At last, he will be able to learn to read, write and do math. At last, he can ask all the questions that have been buzzing around in his head, especially about science. A small dream comes true for him. The man - who is not his father - will no longer be by his side all the time. He will finally find friends and play outside. Maybe he'll even form a gang like the big kids he always admired.
At the age of 10, he will graduate from school and move out. The thought of it makes him giggle - a soft, childlike giggle that feels like a gentle melody in the hush of the morning.
He can barely contain his anticipation. As early as 5 a.m., he quietly sneaks into the bedroom, wakes his mother and gets her up. He barely touches his breakfast. While Madeleine, still half asleep, staggeres through the small kitchen, Erik stands on the small corner bench and drinks his warm cocoa.

He is holding a small school cone in his hand, which he clutches to his chest with an almost childlike seriousness. Madeleine found it on sale in a one-euro store. It is just 30 cm long and looks tiny compared to the other children's huge cones. It is plain, without any great decorations, just a little bow on top. She notices the difference immediately when she looks around. The other children are wearing neat, expensive clothes. Their school bags are big, colorful and often homemade. Some of them carry bright, fashionable brand-name school bags - not like the worn backpack that Erik got from the man.
Madeleine shakes her head slightly. But she can no longer concentrate on her thoughts as she watches her son. The bag in Erik's hands may be cheap, but it is filled with his favorite candy: dark chocolate. Although she can't really understand why he loves this chocolate so much, at least he eats it. He typically only takes a few tiny bites before he says that he can't take anymore. But dark chocolate always works.

Erik continues to rock impatiently from one leg to the other, his hand ever more firmly in Madeleine's. “Ma!” he whispers again and again, as if he wants to make sure she's still there, that he won't lose her. “I'm here,” she mumbles absently. How she would love to have a cigarette right now. But in front of the other parents, the teachers, the children - she doesn't.
“ Now, all children, please line up here!” An older woman shouts loudly as she raises a camera. “Come here, everyone, stand on the steps here at the entrance!” Some children obey immediately, others are shy and need some encouragement from their parents.
Erik doesn't react at all. “Hey!” Madeleine crouches down, searching for his gaze. His eyes wander restlessly from one face to the next. So many children, so many school cones. When he turns away from her, her hand is still clasped in his, fascinated by the colorful world around him.
“Erik!” she calls out again, clapping her hands. Erik flinches, looks at her in confusion, and then, slowly, he turns his body in response. “You have to join the others. They're taking a photo of all of you - as a class!”

“A... as... Class,” he repeats, nods and walks off. The teacher is surprised when she sees him running. Despite his crooked posture, Erik is taller than all the other children. He runs past the teacher and in order to get a place on the stairs, he pushes his way somewhat awkwardly between the others.
“ Hey, wait a minute!” The teacher puts her hand on his shoulder, but Erik immediately moves away and stares at her in irritation.
The teacher raises an eyebrow, looks questioningly at Erik for a moment, then points to a step further down and smiles kindly. “Stand there, then you'll be level with the others.” Erik mirrors her smile, even if only vaguely, and stands dutifully in the place indicated. He is the only one in the row.
Madeleine watches the action from a distance. A chill of shame runs through her body. She can feel the helplessness and anger building up inside her - a coldness that she can no longer control. She knows that Erik is different - different from the other children here, different from what she had imagined.

But why does he always have to behave so conspicuously?
Why is he always so... embarrassing ?
“When I say: cheese!” the teacher calls out to the class and points the camera at the children. “Then you all shout: CHEESE!” The children laugh, some squint into the sun, others simply shout “CHEESE!” as the photo is taken. Only Erik - he doesn't even look at the camera. He is distracted by a robin that lands in a bush right next to the school steps.

After the photo, the small group moves on to the school tour. The children scurry around while the parents keep their distance. Many of the children already know each other from kindergarten, where Erik has never been. For him and his mother, this is foreign territory, an invisible network to which they do not belong.
Madeleine remains at the back of the small crowd while the children wander through the school with their teacher.
“Each of you can now take a little wooden butterfly from the desk. Each color is only available once!” the teacher calls out as she enters the classroom. The children rush to the butterflies. Erik, who is pushing his way through the others, chooses a blue butterfly and sits down on a chair.

He looks forward, stands up again, moves to the next chair, then back to the first. Again and again, until he is warned to finally sit down.
He looks uncertainly at his mother. Can a stranger really tell him what to do?
Madeleine looks back and shakes her head slightly. Behave , she thinks to herself, he should behave , damn it!
Erik looks back at the blackboard, confused, irritated. Sitting next to him is a girl with shaggy bangs and a dirty blonde ponytail, who gives him a big smile. “I'm Sofie! I like horses and Ariel the Mermaid!”
Erik looks at her, the corners of his mouth twitching. A shy smile. Her eyes wander from the wide gap between his teeth to the scar on his lip that flashes out from under the plaster. Then to his eyes, which squint a little past her. She asks, “And... you are?” Her voice slows.
“ E... ehn...” The smile breaks. He takes a breath. “Erik!” he then calls louder. Children's heads turn. The teacher looks over briefly, then turns back to her conversation with a mother.
Madeleine turns red.

Why does her son always have to be so incredibly embarrassing?