Marco had volunteered to work on the rescue squad as an alternative to military service. He was in his second week of training with three persons being assigned to the ambulance until his training ended. He was still nervous each time they went out on a call. He enjoyed the adrenalin rush though, imagining that saving a life must be better than being asked to deliberately take another human life. On this particular day they were called to an automobile parked at the edge of the forest. Marco already knew the place they were called to because he had been there many times. They had been informed that this was an attempted suicide, so Marco imagined in his mind what would transpire. He would be called on to perform in ways he had only experienced in training, but he was just beginning to feel confident. In just one week he had already learned to distance himself from his emotions in order to perform his job.

Marco was in the front seat today, beside the driver. He could see the car at the edge of the road with both doors opened. He saw the police standing beside a body laid out on a blanket beside the car. Marco’s heart began to beat to a more rapid rhythm as they came closer to the scene. His face became flushed and his breathing became irregular as he pieced the images together in his mind. The license tag, the make and color of the car, even the curly brown hair was not yet enough to penetrate the protective barrier encasing his psyche. His eyes were now fixed on the multicolored blanket neatly folded in the back window just as he had left it there. Marco could feel the soft texture of the blanket below his naked body on a warm night in this very forest. Now everything began moving in slow motion, the sound of the siren dragging into a deep low pitched muffled tone. The colors of the blanket bled into the core of his overworked heart then exploded into his brain. The siren was now screaming the name, Die-ter, Die-ter. Marco molded his lips around this sound, pulling himself back into his body with the wail of his own voice. Time had slowed to a pace now where it seemed to stand still, but Marco’s heart raced forward in a desperate attempt to get away from the truth!

Marco watched as his companions tried to revive Dieter’s flaccid body. He knew by their body language that the attempt was a vain effort to console him. They both looked back to the ambulance with a sign of resignation and Marco sank even further into his seat. He sat paralyzed for an eternity before focusing on the policeman who was now going through Dieter’s car. Marco suddenly found the strength to walk over to the car. Lying on the front seat he found a photo album opened to a picture of Dieter, his wife and their young boy. Marco sat on the pavement running his fingers through Dieter’s hair. "How could you do this to us?" he cried.

Marco and Dieter had been meeting secretly for more than one year. Marco knew that Dieter had a family, but this was the first time he had seen a photo. When he saw the face of the young boy he could see the resemblance to his friend now lying on the pavement. Marco could hear his friend’s words as he continued to stroke his head.

"Of course I love my son. How could a father not love his son? The truth is I would never have chosen to be a father or to marry if I had been given a choice, but it’s too late now. I feel trapped in a life that was chosen for me and everything I do is done for someone else. My father taught me that life is about this kind of compromise. Now I know my father lied to me and it’s too late. I feel trapped and I don’t know what to do. I want to be with you, Marco, but I love my family and my son. What am I supposed to do?"

Marco had no answer for Dieter that night. He wondered if perhaps he was responsible for Dieter’s death. Perhaps if he had not entered Dieter’s life Dieter would not have felt trapped in his other life. He wondered if it would have been possible for Dieter to live his whole life without ever knowing the truth of who he was. He was only consoled by the improbability of this scenario.

Marco sat in the back row of seats in the church. The priest who gave the eulogy was an acquaintance from a few years back. Marco thought about the irony of such a moment as he saw the fabric of deceit which had led to Dieter’s death. He listened to the lies fabricated to save all of the participants from the painful truth. He looked directly into the eyes of the priest and felt betrayed by every word that passed his lips. Marco felt something choking him as he held back the flood of emotion which had now swelled into a tidal wave. Suddenly he heard his own voice as it enveloped the entire congregation, pulling them unwillingly into his sea of truth.

Marco sat alone still trying to stop the tears. He had noticed the contemptuous glares of the congregation as they passed out of the church. The priest had been the first to flee, perhaps fearing that Marco’s next outburst would be an expose’ of his own life. Marco had finally pulled himself together enough to think of leaving when he felt a hand on his right shoulder. He looked up to find a woman and a small boy standing beside his pew. She bent down and kissed the top of Marco’s head. He could feel her tears penetrate through his skull.

"I never thought anyone could understand my pain until I felt yours," she told him as she ran her fingers through his hair. "I know that Dieter loved you. As much as I want to hate you, I cannot!"

She introduced her son Dieter to Marco. "This boy needs a positive male role model in his life," she said as she wrote her phone number on a small piece of paper. As they walked to the door her son turned back three times and smiled at Marco. On the third glance Marco understood, as did Dieter’s wife, that Dieter would be in both their lives for many years to come.