Zoo Station: The Story of Christiane F. (25 page)

“That's not what this is about,” I replied. “She isn't hard to manage! She's just addicted to heroin.” They just kept looking at me and shrugging their shoulders. Their final advice was to take Christiane to a family counselor.

When I suggested this to Christiane, she just said, “That's ridiculous, they don't have a clue. What I need is rehab therapy.” But the authorities and bureaucrats didn't offer anything like that. I went from one clinic to another—I went to the technical university, to the Caritas
²⁹
office, and I forget where else. I just didn't know how to deal with this problem myself.

The advisors didn't think a home withdrawal would work out well. Without therapy, they said, just taking the heroin away from her wouldn't make a big difference. But because Christiane was still so young, it wasn't viewed as totally hopeless. The point turned out to be moot anyway: They didn't have a spot for her in any of their therapy programs. Maybe in three months, they said. Before I left, they gave me some dietary advice to counteract the nutritional deficiencies that she had probably developed.

At the end of a week, both Detlef and Christiane appeared to have gotten over all their withdrawal symptoms. Neither of the two tried to con me, and neither tried to run away. I dared to hope. After the eighth day, I was sure that it was over. Thank God, I thought to myself, she's made it. Christiane went back to school again a few days later and supposedly participated regularly as well.

But then she started to roam again. I was comforted somewhat by the fact that she would at least tell me where she was going. She gave solid, detailed information. When she called at 8 p.m., she would say, “Mom, I'm in this or that café. I met up with this or that person. I'll be home soon!”

I'd now been warned. I kept checking her arms, but didn't find any new needle marks. I told her that she couldn't stay at Detlef's over the weekend anymore, but I wanted to show her that I trusted her, so I let her stay out a little later on Saturday nights. I was suspicious, but I still didn't know exactly how to act. I tortured myself, agonizing over what to do.

I WAS TERRIFIED ABOUT BECOMING
physically addicted again. But when Detlef was doped up and I was sober, there was no connection between us. We were like strangers. That's why I started shooting up with Detlef again. And yet while we were driving the needles into our arms, we kept telling ourselves that we would never fall back into our old ways ever again. Once again, we convinced ourselves that we weren't addicted and could
stop whenever we wanted—while at the same time, we were frantically making sure that we'd have enough dope left over for the morning.

The whole fucking cycle started up all over again. Strangely, even though we'd been through it all before, we couldn't tell just how badly we were in deep shit again because of our delusion that now we had things under control.

Just like before, at first, Detlef was the only one working Zoo Station. It wasn't very long, however, before I joined him there. Things went well at the beginning though. I ran into a lot of my old regulars, and so the jobs weren't too revolting.

On the first day that I was back on the streets, Detlef took me along to meet this new guy, Jürgen. Jürgen was pretty well-known in the Berlin business world. He was loaded and lunched with senators—so he was very well connected—and even though he was over thirty, he still seemed kind of young. He talked the way we talked and seemed to understand the issues we were dealing with. He wasn't just your ordinary businessman or your usual stuffy manager type.

So this was my first time in Jürgen's apartment. When we got there, there were about a dozen people. They were all gathered around a giant wooden table that had candles in silver holders and expensive bottles of wine. Everyone was relaxed, and the conversation seemed to be flowing easily. It was immediately apparent that these people were pretty smart. Jürgen was leading the discussion, and I thought, man, this guy is sharp. It was also hard to ignore the fact that he was living in such an amazing apartment, packed with first-class stuff. And despite everything, he was still so laid-back, easygoing, and generous.

We were treated like we really belonged—despite the fact that we were obviously the only junkies there. After a little small talk, one of the couples asked if they could go take a shower. Jürgen said, “Of course, what else are they here for?”

The showers were right next to the living room. The first couple went in, and a few other people followed after them. A short while later, they came back in, naked and asking about towels. It seemed like a pretty cool environment to me, where everyone seemed to get along with everybody else and be up for anything. I felt like Detlef and I could live like this someday, in a first-class apartment, and invite totally cool friends like this.

A few people were already naked or with just small towels around their waists, and they were walking around and touching each other and starting to make out. One couple went into the bedroom, onto the huge bed there. The bedroom happened to be connected to the living room by a wide passageway, so you could look right in. This couple undressed and began to kiss, and soon they were joined by a number of the other guests, who crawled right into the huge bed with them. There were guys with guys, and guys with girls—everything. Some of the people there didn't even make it to the bed: They were going at it right at the table. But I'd realized that I was attending a certified orgy well before things had gone that far.

The guests obviously wanted Detlef and me to join them, but I wasn't into it. I didn't want to be groped by just anybody. I wasn't necessarily opposed to what was going on or grossed out by it. In fact, I was even a little turned on by how they were all having fun together and how chill everything was. But that's exactly why I wanted to be alone with Detlef.

Detlef and I went to a separate room and started making out. Suddenly Jürgen appeared next to us, watching. It didn't bother me though, because, for starters, I felt so safe, but also because I knew he was paying us for this. I only hoped that he wasn't going to join in.

But Jürgen just watched. While Detlef and I had sex, he jerked off. And then, when we left later on (my mom was still expecting me at home), he casually slipped Detlef a hundred-mark note.