Sitting across the table from Dad at breakfast and staying quiet is hard. Especially when he's bent on spending the entire time bashing Nathaniel for being a mindless tosser. It's only Monday morning and I can't imagine how the next few days at home are going to be like.
"It must be difficult not being able to walk. But it serves him right for running out of the house without a care in the world." Dad says bitterly, in a tone that's devoid of any sympathy, stirring milk and one teaspoon of sweetener into his usual morning coffee, "I hope the boy understands how lucky he is that we were able to procure the antidote just in time."
"Hmm."
"He displayed heights of irresponsibility and I'd like to make it known to him that I don't care if he has an itch in his arse or a threat towards his sister—" He continues his angry chain of complaints between hasty sips of his coffee, "In my house, he is expected to follow my rules. I must be updated on his whereabouts at all times."
"Did the higher ups say something?" I ask with a sigh.
Dad glares at me stiffly, "Nothing much. They asked me to be more vigilant."
In military speak, that meant that he'd been threatened with being released from service prematurely if his negligence repeated.
"No wonder he's in such a shitty mood today." I mutter under my breath as I scoop dry fruity cereal into my spoon, ready to shove it into my mouth after a sip of warm milk.
"He's lucky that he's unconscious right now," Dad fumes, pushing back his chair as he downs the last of his piping hot coffee with ease, "Otherwise I would have asked him to give a detailed written report of yesterday's events himself. Would have saved me a night full of paperwork."
"Yes, definitely unconscious." I cough under my breath, before asking aloud, "Dad, have you informed the school that the two of us will not be able to attend for the next couple of days?"
"Yes." he grunts, nodding stiffly as he rinses his cup and keeps the tumbler of coffee powderback into the overhead cabinet, "I need to report back to the office in the afternoon. I'll be back in about an hour. Do not let that boy out of your eyes. You'll be looking forward to extra miles of running in the sand otherwise."
"Yes, Sir." I nod, trying my best not to sound uninterested as I wash down the last of my milk and stuff my mouth with cereal. This is like the millionth time he's told me to keep a stern eye on Nathaniel this morning and I can't wait to get back upstairs.
I have so much to ponder over and so many questions still unanswered.
"You must rest now," Dad turns around as he's leaving, his eyes softening a little, "I expect you to go to The Glade as usual in the evening. A day off from school does not imply a day off from training."
"Noted."
The moment he steps out of the kitchen, I hastily rinse my milk mug and cereal bowl before darting up to my room and fastening the door behind me.
I'm no longer intoxicated because of the chemical cocktail. I made sure to drink three quarters of one of the one liter bottles in the refrigerator right after leaving Nathaniel's room and have been hydrating and peeing diligently since yesterday. And although most of my Sunday is woozy, I trust that most of it has been flushed out of my system now.
I sit on my windowsill, turning the supersonic frequency modem in my hand absently as I contemplate doing a test run to make sure that it works.
Frowning, I keep it aside. I don't want Nathaniel to think that he can get off the hook so easily. It doesn't matter that everything he did had a thoughtful motive behind it. He stabbed me- literally- and I was still stuck on understanding why I was able to trust him so easily and forgive him like it was nothing. Does that make sense?
I open my chat thread with Mum which I've left unopened for the past two days. There are a couple of forwards that exult about the absolute goodness of papayas and a link to an old indie pop song that's apparently her new favourite along with a long list of questions about schoolwork, putting my bedsheet in the laundry and I-love-yous. Chuckling, I quickly text a quick 'I love you' message to Mum along with a selfie where my lips are puckered and ready for a kiss. As annoying as it is to have my mobile vibrating every few minutes with a new worry filled text from Mum, it's hard to not see the affection behind it.
After taking a quick shower and washing my sweaty hair, I dress myself in one of Mum's old college tops that's frayed near the ends and faded all over, and a pleated dark grey skirt that ends just above my knees. I smile at my reflection in the mirror, turning my head right and left, before stuffing a ripe red apple, a water bottle, phone and my homework into a bag and making my way to the rooftop.
The sky is a bright shade of azure, and the mirroring ocean laps up to the wet patch of sand in a race against itself. It's warm and bright up here, but a lone cloud hides the sun behind it, doing away with the harsh heat of its direct rays.
It doesn't take long for me to get settled after spending the first ten minutes trying to get a decent picture of the view. My photography skills have progressed since my last flopshow on the beach. I simply cannot let go of the fact that a person who's had professional photographers scuttling around his entire life is a better photographer than me. I've been brought up on smartphone photography after all.
Time slips past like sandy dust through a sieve.
Today, I make sure to keep an eye on all the entrances into the house from my convenient vantage point. I can't let yesterday's episode repeat.
I'm halfway through my weekly reading for this online vocational course I'm doing when my phone begins to ring with an angry trill inside my bag.
"Do you ever open your text messages, Ariya?" Dad thunders the moment I receive the line.
"Umm, no." I sigh, "I told you to call me every time you wanted to reach me, didn't I?"
"I thought that was a one time thing." he grumbles, and I can imagine his nostrils flaring wide- something that I find rather funny and make a point not to look at every time he is cross with me.
"Whatever. That's not the most pressing matter here." Dad says, "Can you go and check up on the suspiciously dressed person across the street? They've been sitting outside in their car for the last five minutes and Merde says that he's getting yellow vibes from them, whatever that bloody means."
I bite back a snort, "You should really ask Merde to stop taking so many buzzfeed quizzes during his breaks. The controlled browser search history is flooded with weird zodiac quizzes, which are psychologically inaccurate and misleading."
Dad hums in response, muttering something about not getting paid enough to deal with A-level cretins.
"Right. Just give me an update on the situation, ok."
"On it." I answer, standing up slowly.
I walk over to the frontal half of the roof and crane my neck to see the said car. It's an old cream coloured Ford that I'm certain I've seen around before. I wonder who it is.
Frowning slightly, I clamber off the roof edge and slip into my open bedroom window quickly before running up to Nathaniel's room to check if he's up to some funny business again.
I bang loudly on his closed door a couple of times before announcing, "I'm coming in, so cover up if you're wanking!"
"Wanking? No respectable person wanks during working hours." Nathaniel balks visibly, momentarily dropping the paper he's reviewing at his desk.
"Right, I forgot who I was talking to." I mutter under my breath, rolling my eyes, "There's an unidentified individual lurking outside our door. Stay inside your room. Keep defense ready and do not step outside unless you hear me asking you to do so."
Grabbing a mini-taser from the chest of drawers in Dad's room, I make my way to the front door.
There are two people sitting inside the middle aged cream Ford, a boy and girl around my age, as far as I can see and they seem to be having a heated discussion between themselves. They're wearing masks so I can't make out their faces. The boy meets my gaze and stops talking abruptly before shaking the girl's shoulder.
They climb out of the car and run across the street excitedly, making their way to the front porch of our house.
"Hi Ariya!" Madison Wu from chemistry throws her arms around me zealously, catching me by surprise.
I press her back reluctantly, looking over her shoulder to see who the other person is.
Truck, the sweet junior from the tattoo and piercing store, smiles at me lopsidedly as he slips one hand into his trouser pocket and the other scratches the back of his neck boyishly.
What do you do in situations like this?
"Hi Maddison and —er— Truck. Do come in." I say politely, my surprise evident as my eyes dart between them, "Why are you wearing masks and sunglasses? I thought you were burglars."
They laugh at that, Truck peeking over my shoulder curiously before stepping into the hallway. I lead them to the kitchen where they sit side by side on the dining table, still masked in their hideous face covering.
"I assumed that you and Nathaniel were down with something contagious since you missed the summer party on Saturday as well as school, so I wanted to come check on you. I brought Truck along because I didn't know where you stayed." Madison explains waving her hands around comically since I cannot see her face, before whispering, "I may also have heard the student records lady say something about the new students calling in sick while I was helping out at the office for my community service requirement. She likes to read out loud while typing."
On an afterthought, she adds, "And I didn't know whether to expect something like conjunctivitis or basic flu, so I wore both a face mask and sunglasses to protect myself."
"Yes, she was passionate to the point of physical assault while trying to convince me to skip gym class." Truck sneers at her, "And she forced me to drive around until we found a pharmacy where we could buy masks. I expect a reimbursement for all the gas I burnt today."
"Shh Truck." Madison shushes the younger boy, who towers a good foot over her petite figure.
"Do you know how much the fuel prices have soared, you bitch?" he scoffs.
I raise my eyebrow at their banter, surprised to see the obvious camaraderie they share.
"So you two know each other?" I ask.
"Oh I forgot that I've never mentioned it to you." Madison giggles.
When I narrow my eyes slightly she adds, "Truck is my cousin. And yeah I know that we look nothing like each other, but it's true. Our dads are siblings."
"Oh." I nod, pulling my lips into a forced smile.
It's a foreign feeling- to have my schoolmates over. For almost as long as I can remember, my life at home and that at school have always remained separate except for Izzy who acted as a link between the two and my entire teenage years for that matter.
An awkward silence envelopes us, and the three of us sit quietly for a few moments as our eyes dart everywhere but at each other's faces. The tapping of my feet is the only sound that hands between us.
"Is Nathaniel all right?" Madison finally asks, scratching her little finger with her thumb.
"He's been very sick since Friday evening- dosed with a bunch of antibiotics, you know. His fever just came under control early this morning." I lie smoothly, without a single stutter, "And the doctor's advised him to stay in bed until he regains his strength. I've been asked to quarantine myself, but I don't think I've caught his infection."
"That sucks balls." Truck grimaces, Madison nodding with him.
I nod in agreement, pulling my lips into a thin line as I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear.
"He should take a cold water bath and then wrap up in warm clothes if he's feeling stronger now." Madison offers thoughtfully, "I'll go tell him that."
I shoot up abruptly from my chair the moment she stands, briefly registering that she wants to go upstairs where Nathaniel is armed with a neurotoxin injection.
"Wait, I'll just go up and make sure he's feeling alright." I smile pastily, before running up the staircase.
Inhaling deeply, I knock on Nathaniel's door twice before pushing it open.
"Stand down, there's no threat." I announce quietly, as I barge into Nathaniel's room and grab hold of his hand before firmly dragging him towards his bed.
I reach up and mess up his carefully combed hair, before flattening it out in a way that makes it look slightly greasy.
"What are you doing?" he asks in an unamused tone, catching my wrist before my hand can reach for his shirt collar.
"Madison's here, and Truck from the tattoo and piercing store," I explain hastily, pulling my wrist out of his grip and opening the first two buttons of his shirt before he realises what I'm doing, "They think we're sick and came to check up on us. I told them you've contracted a severe viral infection so please get into bed right away and give your best performance of being ill."
"Fine." He climbs into bed and crumples the neatly folded sheets before pulling them up to his chin so that it looks like he's been lying there for a long time, "You'll find a sterilising margosa liquid spray in the bathroom. Please spray it around the room- the weird medicinal smell resembles that of antibiotics."
Biting back a smirk, I do as he suggests.
Just as I step out of the bathroom after keeping the spray back, Madison peeks into the room slowly- unannounced. Alarmed, I glance at Nathaniel. His eyes are closed, face turned to the left slightly and his legs are slightly tangled with the sheets. He is breathing hard, almost wheezing and he looks dead to the world. It's hard not to believe that he's ill, looking at him like this.
I make sure not to stare for too long, in case it looks like I'm nervous about something. He's a very convincing actor. I know that now.
"He's asleep." Madison whispers, her face becoming slightly glum.
"Yeah." I nod sympathetically, "Antibiotics can be very sleep inducing."
"Yeah, I hate them. I really hope he feels better soon." she blows out into the mask covering her mouth, "You should take care too, even though you're in quarantine. Whatever Nathaniel is down with looks nasty. And tell him to take a cold water bath, ok?"
I nod, following her back to the kitchen where Truck is waiting.
"Thank you for coming." I smile, it's a genuine one this time, "I'll tell Nathaniel that you came by. I'm sure he'll be glad to know."
"Well, we are friends now." She replies instantly, smiling brightly as she bumps my shoulder with hers, "It's kind of a job requirement. We take care of each other."
She hugs me before skipping down the small driveway to Truck's car and Truck half salutes before slipping his hands into his trouser pockets and following her. A warm and fuzzy feeling courses through my body.
I wonder if a day and a half long silent treatment is enough for Nathaniel. I really miss our banter and just his constant presence as a whole.
Sighing, I shake my head and close the front door. As I pad up the stairs to my bedroom for the umpteenth time, I call Dad who's impatient waiting for my call and tell him that it's nothing to worry about.
"They could be spies, Ariya." He huffs, "You shouldn't have let them into the house."
"Really, Dad? They're normal high schoolers."
"So are you, but not everything is what meets the eye, is it?"
"Don't you have work to do? Bye." I cut the call before he can come up with more bizarre theories.
That night, after dinner, I bring out the frequency modem again and fiddle with it as I wait for sleep to come.
Biting my lower lip, I sign a message at the adjusted frequency as I giggle to myself.
.... .. / .--. .-. .. -. -.-. . ... ...
I wait for almost an entire minute before signing another message.
.... . -.--
-. .- - .... .- -. .. . .-.. ..--..
My lips lower into a frown.
-.. --- . ... / - .... .. ... / -... .-.. .- ... - . -.. / - .... .. -. --. / . ...- . -. / .-- --- .-. -.- ..--..
"The fucking thing doesn't even work." I hiss, turning it upside down to inspect it as my fading anger and doubt begins to return, "That bastard is so charming that it's no wonder the world begs to eat out of his hands."
I'm about to toss it to the side when I hear a faint clicking sound emanating from it.
.. - / .-- --- .-. -.- ... / .- .-.. .-.. / .-. .. --. .... - --..-- / .- .-. .. -.-- .- .-.-.- / .--. .-.. . .- ... . / ... - --- .--. / .- -. -. --- -.-- .. -. --. / -- . / -. --- .-- .-.-.-
Tentatively, I translate the message as it repeats on the modem. A small smile makes its way to my lips and I sign one last message.
--. --- --- -.. / -. .. --. .... -
The next message comes almost instantly.
--. --- --- -.. / -. .. --. .... -
•><•
Happy Sunday everyone!
I really like writing about Ariya's father for some reason :)
Also, I hope you can keep your Morse code converters open for the messages in this chapter. You'll easily find one on any web browser. Have fun translating!
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