Sound of Sirens

Chapter 10

When I get home, I'm afraid Dad or Sytse will be able to see it in my eyes – how flustered and confused and revved-up I am. But if so, they don't comment. They're both sitting in the kitchen peeling potatoes and cutting vegetables.

"Can you pour us a mug too?" my brother pipes up when I walk over to the stove to make some tea. "You're home late."

"Yeah, I was helping Alke with his German test," I lie. "So I was busy. Dani is dropping by tonight so we can work on my own assignments, though."

"Relax," Sytse grins. "You have all weekend to do your homework. I'm not going to play the evil big brother and scold you or anything."

This is the bad thing about lying – you always want to make the lie sound too perfect so you end up saying too much. "Thanks," I mutter, lighting the gas stove and watching the kettle as it heats up.

When Dani shows up here after dinner, I will have to focus on the anthology and nothing else. No more daydreaming about Royce. I don't even want to tell my best friend how silly I'm being – she already warned me before.

As I sip from my hot tea and stare out the window, I see storm clouds drifting in. Let's hope the rain will fall during the night, not tomorrow afternoon during the opening ceremony. The Currents are always seated under a big tarp covering the main bleachers, while we are gathered on the town square, out in the open. That's just the way of the world.

Once we sit down for dinner, the mashed potatoes, onions, and carrots topped with mackerel feel like a brick in my stomach. I can't eat more than a few bites before giving up. "I'll save it for later," I mumble when I see my father's worried look. "I'm not that hungry yet."

"Eida has offered to take Dad and Grandma Antje to Brandaris tomorrow," Sytse announces cheerfully. "She's bringing the cow-drawn carriage to town, so they can hitch a ride."

Our neighbor is a darling. This way, my grandmother won't have to walk and I won't have to worry about transporting my dad by bike, running the risk of making the pain in his joints unbearable for the rest of the day. "That's great," I say with a smile.

After Sytse and Dad are done eating, I clear the table and put on another kettle to boil some water for the washing-up. No dessert tonight, so I have it easy. I just have to scrub the pots and wash some plates, cups, and silverware. I sing softly to myself as my hands dip into the hot, soapy water to rinse the forks.

"What's that?"

Sytse suddenly pops up next to me. I hadn't even heard him get up from his seat at the kitchen table – I thought he was reading the paper.

"What is what?" I say, looking up at him in confusion.

He narrows his eyes at me. "That tune you were humming." When it still doesn't click, he adds: "Enna, you were singing one of the songs from Phoenix. That LP."

Oh, crap. He's right. One particular song has been stuck in my head ever since I left the cottage a few hours ago. Weaving Web.

"N-no," I stammer, groping around for a plausible excuse. "I just – came up with that melody today. I..."

I start when Sytse slams his fist on the counter. "Don't lie to me," he growls. I've never heard my brother speak to me like that. All of a sudden, he feels like a stranger with a secret side I should never have found out about.

"Okay," I squeak.

"So. You listened to that record. How? When?"

My jaw tenses. "Who are you to interrogate me like this?" I throw back. "It's none of your business."