A Greater Music Read Online Free

looked as though it would snow again that evening. Joachim was walking about three or four paces ahead of me. He said that if he’d known how to skate he would have borrowed a pair and gone out onto the ice right now. I’d learned how to skate when I was eleven, I told him, but that it was so long ago that I wasn’t sure whether I would remember how, and besides, it was so cold right now that I wasn’t thinking about anything at all. We resumed our silent walk. We felt the cold stab of the air entering our lungs as a physical impact, and if we coughed the steam of our breath came out white. I asked Joachim if he was cold without a coat, but he just shrugged in reply. When we came up to the lake caretaker’s hut, a humble shack made of yellow bricks and wood, he suggested that we’d walked for long enough now and might as well head home. We found Benny waiting for us at the hut, fixing us with his faithful stare, almost as if he feared that we might disappear if he didn’t keep us in sight. The return trip was colder than the way out. I was all but running. We decided that it was too cold to walk all the way, and took the tram. Benny’s dislike of the tram was plain, but he flattened his body to lie obediently under the seatwhen Joachim told him to. Every time Benny jerked his head up, clearly ill at ease, Joachim produced a dog biscuit from his pocket and held it out to him. Benny would then settle down again, bury his face under the seat and chew his biscuit. The thought only then occurring to me, I asked Joachim if he’d bought a present for his parents. “A book and some perfume,” he replied briefly, adding that he hadn’t bought anything for his brother.
    â€œIn that case I guess I can get something for him.”
    Joachim assured me there was no need, although I suggested that going empty handed to a Christmas dinner made me feel uncomfortable.
    â€œBesides, you can’t,” he grinned. “All the shops will be closed now, you know. I mean, where are you going to get a present from?”
    In that case there was nothing to be done. We went home, Joachim ironed a shirt to wear that evening, and I made a simple Chinese noodle dish for lunch. After I boiled the water for the noodles according to the instructions, scooped them out with a sieve and drained them, I fried them in the big wok together with a jar of bean sprouts. According to Joachim the wok had been a real bargain, something he’d gotten off his friend’s Vietnamese neighbor. Once the noodles heated through, I dished them up and finished them off with a sprinkle of salt, some garlic, and Thai chili sauce. The radio was playing Christmas songs back to back, many of them with practically the same melody, so we switched over to a news program, made some jasmine tea, and ate lunch. The tram rattled by outside. On the news we heard that the snow had caused many accidents on the motorways, and that there were floods in southern Germany. Once he’d finished the dishes, Joachim flopped down on the sofa, yawning, and began to browse one of his many train magazines—he couldn’t get enough of them—while Iflicked through the television channels. The Christmas-themed programming was ubiquitous—Christmas carols, Christmas films, Christmas Mass, Christmas cooking, Christmas plays, Christmas discussions, etc. On the table there was a silver box of chocolates with some left over, and a book Joachim had been reading, General Physics Theory with Mathematical Proofs . He’d already passed the basic physics exam in his first term, but had apparently forgotten almost all of it and so was looking over it again. Benny was lying by Joachim’s side; Joachim had the magazine in one hand and held Benny by the scruff of the neck with the other. The small, snow-covered road that ran through the backyard was visible through the high glass window. Lined with individual gardens known as