The Dinosaur Feather Read Free Page B

impatiently.
    “You’re kidding!” Anna exclaimed, thinking she really was an idiot. It was obvious: Johannes was gay!
    “What does ‘Orlando’ mean?” she asked.
    Johannes looked exasperated.
    “Orlando is a reference to the eponymous hero of the novel by Virginia Woolf, obviously. Orlando starts off as a man and is later transformed into a woman. Like me, at nightfall.” He laughed. Anna gawked and said: “Okay.”
    “But, no, I’m not gay,” he added, as though he had read her mind.
    “So what are you then?” Anna asked, before she could stop herself.
    “I’m into women.” He winked at her. “And, in addition, I’m a goth. From time to time I go to goth parties in drag; women’s clothing, that is.”
    “So do you all have sex with each other or what?” Anna blurted out.
    Johannes raised his eyebrows. “Sounds like someone’s interested in going?”
    “Shut up.” Anna threw an eraser at him, but she couldn’t help smiling. “That’s not why I’m asking. I was just curious. You look like a . . .” she nodded in the direction of the screen. Johannes followed her gaze.
    “Yes, I’m well and truly dolled up,” he said, pleased with himself. He drummed his fingers on the table and looked at Anna as though he was debating with himself whether or not he could be bothered to explain this to her.
    “There’s no sex at the Red Mask,” he said eventually. “But quite a few people belong to the goth scene as well as the fetish scene. Me, for instance.” He gave her a probing look. “That club is called Inkognito, and events take place twice a month.” He scratched one eyebrow. “And yes, there we have sex. There are darkrooms, and people arrive dressed in latex and leather. Here you can be hung from the wall and given a damned good thrashing if that’s your thing.”
    Anna held up her hand. “Yes, thank you, Johannes. That will do.”
    “And prudes are very much in demand on the fetish scene. Very.” Johannes flung out his arms by way of invitation. Anna threw a notebook at him; Johannes parried by rolling his chair backward. He roared with laughter. Anna could restrain herself no longer and joined in. With Johannes, everything seemed so easy.
    The only time the harmony between them soured was when the subject turned to Professor Helland. Shortly after they had become friends, Anna asked Johannes what was bothering Helland. In her opinion, he was always in a hurry; he was grumpy and vague. To her great surprise, Johannes seemed genuinely baffled. What did she mean? Helland had been a brilliant supervisor for him, he protested, beyond reproach.
    “Don’t you find him distracted and apathetic?” she asked.
    Johannes didn’t think so at all.
    One day they almost had a fight about Helland. Anna happened to mention that she often fantasized about playing practical jokes on the supervisor; hiding his favorite reference book, for example, or removing a small, but vital part of his dissecting microscope, which was worth millions of kroner—just a tiny bolt so the lens wouldn’t focus or the eye pieces couldn’t be adjusted to fit the distance between Helland’s eyes. Or how about grafting mold onto his wallpaper? Or releasing a couple of mice in his office? Something that would wind him up without resulting in serious repercussions for her? They were enjoying a tea break and had discussed a film they had seen, they had been laughing, but Johannes paled when she shared her fantasy.
    “That’s not funny,” he said. “Why do you say stuff like that? That’s really not funny.”
    “Hey, relax,” Anna said, instantly embarrassed at suddenly finding herself isolated with an evidently highly inappropriate idea.
    “You can’t go around playing tricks on people,” Johannes had muttered.
    “It was just a joke,” Anna said.
    “It didn’t sound like it,” Johannes said.
    “Hang on, what are we really talking about?” Anna asked, defensively, and turned on her chair to face Johannes