Without hesitating, both Silo and I jumped from the bed, ran into the corridor, down the battered stairs into the living room, where my parents had guests. Crap, I’d forgotten all about the Saturday Conley Convention. Basically, it was a boring event devoid of any structure or purpose, held on the third Saturday of every month. My parents, along with some other neighboring families, would sit in a circle (the arrangement of furniture alone was a nightmare) and share the lessons that they’d learned during the previous two weeks. Like I said, pointless.
‘Trick, hon. Can you children play elsewhere? We have to concentrate on our Tarass now.’
I never got ‘Rya, hon’, not once.
Tarass was an even more pointless ritual where the adults would write their lessons on a piece of paper and burn it for good luck and prosperity. It wasn’t real magic, yet my parents insisted that it brought them fortune.
Trick gave me the devil eye. ‘Sure Mum. I was just telling Rye not to disturb, but you know her…’ I kicked him in the shins which won me twenty-three scolds in total. Must be a record.
I motioned to Silo to get away from the room before it started smelling like burning dreams. My second least favorite smell in the entire world. But just as we reached the stairs, the bell rang, and by bell I mean the horrid little perverted tune that my parents had found in the trash. It had a steady beat but it sounded nothing like ringing, more like grunting on a squeaky mattress, of which we had plenty. Squeak-grunt-squeak-grunt-squeak.
I rushed over to see who it was just to make it stop. Before I reached the handle, however, I felt a cold breeze run through my fingers, wrist, arm, elbow, and shoulders, aiming straight for the heart. It was nothing like I’d ever felt before. That’s why I froze on the door, ignoring everybody else’s voices, and just concentrated on a new, quiet one that rained over my senses like a summer drizzle at first, but then cut them like frost-bite.
It couldn’t be… them. Could it? When I actually managed to compose myself and turn to face my parents, their faces bore the same expression I felt rising on mine. Silo, on the other hand bless him, had no idea what was going on.
I never did tell him the one secret my parents and I kept from the world.