Nothing Read Free Page A

masquerade that means nothing, when instead you could start enjoying your nine years right away.” He pulled another plum off a branch, reclined contentedly in the fork of the tree, and appeared to be weighing the plum in his hand. He took a big bite and laughed. The Victorias were ripening.
    “It’s not a masquerade!” Otto yelled, threatening Pierre Anthon with a fist.
    “It’s not a masquerade!” Huge Hans joined in, and launched another stone.
    “Then how come everyone’s making like everything that isn’t important is very important, all the while they’re so busy pretending what’s really important isn’t important at all?” Pierre Anthon laughed and drew an arm across his face to wipe away the plum juice from his chin. “How come it’s so important we learn to say please and thank you and the same to you and how do you do when soon none of us will be doing anythinganymore, and everybody knows that instead they could be sitting here eating plums, watching the world go by and getting used to being a part of nothing?”
    Holy Karl’s two stones were sent off in quick succession.
    “If nothing matters, then it’s better doing nothing than something. Especially if something is throwing stones because you haven’t the guts to climb trees.”
    The stones rained in on the plum tree from all sides. The pitching order was forgotten. Everyone was throwing at once now, and soon Pierre Anthon let out a howl and fell out of the tree, landing with a thump on the grass behind the hedge. Which was just as well, because all our stones were used up and time was getting on. Holy Karl had to be off home with his trailer if he was going to make it to school before the bell.
    ————
    The next morning it was quiet in the plum tree when we passed by on our way to school.
    Otto was the first one to cross the street. Then followed Huge Hans, who jumped up heavily and yanked away two Victorias with a handful of leaves and a holler, and when there still was no reaction, the rest of us followed, jubilant.
    We’d won!
    Victory is sweet. Victory is. Victory.
    ————
    Two days later Pierre Anthon was back in his plum tree with a Band-Aid across his forehead and a whole new range of repartee: “Even if you learn something and think you’re good at it, there’ll always be someone who’s better.”
    “Pipe down!” I yelled back. “I’m going to be something worth being! And famous, too!”
    “Sure you are, Agnes.” Pierre Anthon’s voice was kind, almost pitying. “You’ll be a fashion designer and teeter around in high heels and makelike you’re really something and make others think they are too, as long as they’re wearing your label.” He shook his head. “But you’ll find out you’re a clown in a trivial circus where everyone tries to convince each other how vital it is to have a certain look one year and another the next. And then you’ll find out that fame and the big wide world are outside of you, and that inside there’s nothing, and always will be, no matter what you do.”
    I surveyed the ground; there were no stones anywhere.
    “Shut up!” I screamed, but Pierre Anthon kept on.
    “Why not admit from the outset that nothing matters and just enjoy the nothing that is?”
    I gave him the finger.
    Pierre Anthon just laughed.
    Furious, I grabbed Ursula-Marie by the arm, because Ursula-Marie was my friend with blue hair and six thick braids, and that was definitely something. Blue, bluer, bluest. If my motherhadn’t expressly forbidden it, my hair would have been blue too. As it was, I had to make do with the six braids, which weren’t particularly impressive given my fine, wispy hair, but at least it was something.
    ————
    Only a few days passed before Jon-Johan again summoned us to the soccer field.
    There were no good suggestions, but loads of poor ones. None of us was listening to Otto anymore, and if he hadn’t been the strongest in the class, at least since Pierre Anthon had