Whistle in the Woods | Teen Fic ✔️

6 : Ache

The next morning, after two hours of math, Meldei found the director when he was exiting the office.

"What were you doing back there?" he said after she explained the situation.

"Something happened and my friend ran back there to cry," she replied. She'd told the same story to the Principal once. "But everything is fine. We accidentally dropped it through the window. Could you please make an exception?"

After a moment of weighing something, he finally went toward a particular drawer in his office and produced a thin set of keys, which Meldei accepted.

"Remember to lock the door and bring the keys right back," he told her. "And also shut the window."

"I will. Thank you."

Meldei quickly headed out. Since it was Saturday and there were only some students attending extra classes, the terrace felt overflowing and empty and far. Her cheeks were chilled by the time she got to the very back of the campus.

There was nothing there save for that one isolated building near the zinc gate. First a storage unit, the Principal, later on, used it for dance rehearsals done annually for Khmer new year celebration.

After several attempts, Meldei slid the last key into the padlock—and turned.

The air smelled like dust as she stepped in, thick and musty, and her shoes leave footprints on the dusty floor. Pretty much of the room was bare, except for a heap of objects lining the wall near the window, and Meldei spotted the plastic bag that Nika threw almost right away.

She bent down to hurriedly remove the tissues and junk and finally felt a hold of something solid—solid and whole. Her body sagged in relief.

In the soft light, the jade was like green fluid swirling between a narrow glass that blossomed delicately at the top before thinning down to a point. As she examined for cracks the hair stick glimmered cold and almost unbreakable.

Satisfied, Meldei kept it safely in her bag and stood with the bag of trash. The room would turn pitch black if she shut the window, so she left it ajar. Upon closer look, the pile of things beside it turned out to be...musical instruments.

Traditional music instruments. Placed side by side and covered with a rag that barely prevented dust from powdering them. As she observed, there seemed to be enough instruments to assemble an orchestra. Last year's performances must've been livened by these.

Pausing, she reached out to brush a finger across a stringed instrument, and gasped when it sounded.

She eventually got to the left corner, where a tall, angular object was completely draped over by another cloth. Meldei caught the fabric and swiped it aside. And regretted instantly as dust motes went spiraling up out of control. She sneezed—and sneezed again until she covered her face with a hand, stepping back.

It took a minute for the dust to settle. Meldei lowered her hands. Her breath caught when she saw what lay beneath.

The brown piano was so glossy and vivid that it may as well be dark red in the deceiving light. As she moved closer she found herself staring back through the surface. It must've been made from some incredibly expensive wood, she thought, for every inner detail was naked to the eye. The dark stripes along the wood were like smoke spiraling from the twirling knots, rich and beautiful.

Youhei's hair shared the same vividness when she saw him that day at the lake, when he turned and the sunlight touched his face.

Reluctantly, she lifted the piano board, revealing the keyboard underneath, white and black shinning in dustless splendor. She'd been around a piano back in middle school, but that was the extent of it.

Her eyes traced the keyboard and stopped on a random key. She pressed it—and jumped at how low it abruptly sounded.

She'd only been in there for once or twice to watch people rehearse last year and none of the valuables had been present. Now it all made sense why the school had the room padlocked so tight.

It had been in front of her this whole time, she thought as she pulled the rag over the piano. Her eyes ran along the center of the room. The building could easily fit two classrooms together, making it an ideal space for mobility.

Meldei wasn't thinking about the new year dance rehearsals.

A tingling went up to her arms at the thought. Exhaling, she glanced at the piano once more and headed out. The padlock looped around the holder tight after she locked the door.

The keys sprawled in her hand, cold and rusted. All around, white-gum trees sang in the gusts, their lance-like leaves tumbling to her feet like snow.

Meldei slid the keys in her bag and headed home.

_____._____

Her grandmother wasn't in the living room when Meldei got home. The bamboo bed where she usually rested was littered with pillows and a lingering scent of balm. Meldei set down her books and bag before climbing up to their one-story house.

"Mak Yey?" she called softly through the door.

When she entered her grandmother was lying on the bed, seemingly asleep. The radio channel nearby ran like a sedative hum.

Before her grandmother arrived, Meldei's room used to smell like the herbs she grew on the balcony pot. Now the minty odor of balms and oils worried her.

"Mak Yey." Meldei touched her grandmother's arm, urging her awake.

Her grandmother's eyes suddenly snapped open, flashing with panic, and she jerked her arm away. Her reaction had startled Meldei until she learned of the damages the Khmer Rouge caused her. So, now Meldei merely stroked her arm and waited as the alarm slowly left her face.

"Child," her grandmother rasped. Her breathing turned normal.

"The radio was listening to you sleep, and quite not the other away around," Meldei said, chuckling.

Her grandmother seemed to finally notice the noise; she turned it off. "You're home early today."

"I only have one class on Saturday," Meldei replied. "Are you all right? Do you feel unwell again?"

"I'm fine, child," her grandmother said. Meldei helped her sit up. "Are you hungry? I'll make you something to eat."

"You have to call me whenever you feel unwell," Meldei said, realizing how strongly she smelled of balm. "We're supposed to take care of you. You can rely on me, too."

Her grandmother ran her fingers through her hair, in the loving way that her mother often did when she was younger. "I'm glad to have a grandchild like you," she said. "Study hard. That's the most important thing. Don't worry about anything else."

Meldei smiled, but somehow it felt hollow on the inside. "I'm doing my best."

Her grandmother watched her. "How are you keeping up with everybody else?"

"Good," she told her. "I enrolled in extra classes with my friend, so next year should be fine too."

Her grandmother's face softened as she smiled—a mirror of Meldei's mother's smile. "Do as your mother says and you'll walk a straight path. Don't get distracted."

Meldei nodded. "I couldn't get through her on the phone. Maybe I should go help."

"More people will be at the market on weekends," her grandmother said. "Go. I'm all right. I'll rest some more."

"Then call me if you need anything." Meldei paused at the door. "Do you remember how to use the phone?"

Her grandmother coughed. "I'll be fine, child. Go on."

Her grandmother had a few chronic illnesses that came with age, but she wasn't sickly. Meldei watched as she settled back on the bed and, seeing the promising colors of her face, she left the house.

_____._____

As soon as she reached the market she understood why her mother didn't pick up her calls.

Tevi was handling a handful of orders from customers crowding the food counter. Sweat glistened on her forehead and her red apron blotched.

Meldei stepped in and took over the orders. She washed the herbs and stacked the dishes and packaged desired condiments for take-aways. When the customers left she gathered all the dirty wares and washed them by the drain on the ground.

The food venue was an open section in the market, so the winds easily found them and dried her sweat. The water was cold as she washed and rinsed, but it probably wouldn't compare to that of the lake at school.

There was no better season to go fishing. Years back, Meldei and her parents would often visit relatives in the country whenever she had holidays from school. That time they owned a house on one of the busiest streets in the city and Meldei attended a well-known private middle school. The house was home to Tevi's unmatched rice noodles and had customers come like waves while Meldei's father led a group of housebuilders around town for work.

Everything was perfect, until it came crashing down by a mortgage on their house that neither Meldei nor her mother knew. Desperation freed her father, but it left them to face his debts and shame.

Now there was no more debt. Their four-story house was replaced with a small one located on a languid back street, one that was not truly theirs yet—not until Meldei's mother paid off the remaining thirty percent to the bank.

Very often, Meldei wondered whether her father regretted it. She wondered if he regretted throwing the vase at her mother's head on that violent evening three years and eight months ago.

Very often, she wondered where he was. But always, she received no answer.

_____._____

It was late afternoon when they wrapped up the business and called it a day. Meldei's fingers were wrinkly by the time she hung the last towel to place.

"We'll some mushroom congee for her," her mother was saying by the counter, locking the shelves.

"Sure." Meldei untied her apron and took out her phone. The screen brightened and she saw a few messages from Caspian. Oh, he better not be persuading her to do his part of the project.

And he was—but the last line caught her attention.

Check your request message box, Caspian wrote.

When she did there was a pending message waiting for approval. She tapped on it—

"Dei, let's go," her mother called. Tevi was waiting at the aisle. Meldei quickly stuffed her apron away and followed her out of the market.

At home after dinner, when her mother was showering upstairs and grandmother praying, Meldei checked the message again.

It was from an empty profile, the name in Chinese characters.

Death Parade seemed intense.

Which part did you say was beautiful?