A young man who does everything right. Training, discipline, results. His father got him there. His club needs him. His girlfriend is waiting.
And at some point, he asks himself the question he has never asked himself before: What does he actually want?
“Jonas Keller” will be my second novel. It tells the story of a handball player who moves abroad and realizes for the first time that functioning and living are not the same thing.
Here is a first excerpt:
On the tram (II)
The tram pulls away smoothly, without jerking. Jonas stands near the door, one hand on the pole, the other on his bag. He has positioned himself so that he is not touching anyone and has some distance from everyone. He expertly balances the movement of the tram.
Opposite him sits a woman with a stroller; next to her, a man holding his cell phone at an angle and reading. Further ahead, someone is leaning against the window. Jonas notices all this without looking too closely. The train stops, the doors open, and freezing air rushes in. Two people get off, three get on. Jonas takes half a step to the side, makes room, and stands back up. His shoulders remain relaxed. As the car moves again, he grabs the bar a little higher.
His cell phone vibrates in his jacket pocket. He takes it out, sees Sarah’s name, and answers.
“Hey Sarah. How are you?”
“Good. Do you have a moment?”
“Yeah,” he says. “I’m on the tram.” He looks outside. Houses pass by; advertisements, then an intersection with waiting cars.
“I wanted to hear how you’re doing,” says Sarah.
“Normal,” he replies. “Lots of training.”
“Sure.”
He can picture her rolling her eyes and smiles briefly. A man pushes past him; Jonas pulls his elbow in without taking his eyes off the window. “And you?” he asks.
“Exam season has started again.”
“Stressful?”
“So-so, you know me.” The tram stops again. Doors open, then close again. Jonas stays where he is.
“We haven’t seen each other in a while,” says Sarah.
“Yeah, I know.”
“Are you okay with that?”
He thinks for a moment. “At the moment, yes. There’s no other way.”
“Mhmm.”
“I mean,” he says, “it’s not forever.”
“No,” she says. “But right now it is.”
Jonas says nothing. The train moves again. He hears the hum of the tracks, voices, and a cough.
“Sometimes I feel like you’re not really there,” says Sarah.
“I am here,” he says.
“You’re available. That’s different.”
Jonas leans lightly against the pole. “What do you expect?” he asks.
“That you tell me what you want.”
He looks at his reflection in the window, more at the movement behind it than at himself. “I want it to work,” he says.
“How?”
“That’s all I can do right now,” he says. “The training is pretty demanding.”
“I know,” says Sarah. “But I don’t know what to wait for.”
Jonas is silent as the train slows down. “I don’t want to argue…” he tries cautiously. He glances briefly at the stop display. The next station is his destination.
“Neither do I.”
“But let’s plan the weekend tomorrow,” he offers Sarah. “I only have one game in the neighboring town. You can come if you want.”
Sarah laughs briefly, without joy. “Jonas!” she says.
“Yes?”
“I have to study too.”
The train stops. Jonas shifts his weight forward. “Then I’ll call you after the game,” he says.
“Okay.”
He hangs up, puts his phone away, and gets off. The doors close behind him. He pauses briefly, then walks to the training hall.