— siren of doom

"Nadia, did you wash the plates?"

"Mumma!! Shhhh, you will wake my friend up!"

"He'll have to wake up one moment or another. Did you set the plates or not?"

"Such ill hospitability," Nadia exaggerated a sob, "No wonder I can never make friends."

"Good friends take time like a tea's brew or a licorice sauce. And it's more worth it if they're girls, you know, fulfilling and fruitful by not bringing boys home."

"He's hardly a boy mumma, look past his gender, he's a great person!"

"Oh?"

'Oh?'

Ms. Paisley worded and Ryker thought at the same time. He sat up and looked around the dimly lit room. Darkness clogged the window in front of her study desk and the only source of light was the flourescent yellow study lamp glowing over the table.

"What did he do? Did he help you with your homework or something?" Ms. Paisley asked. Her voice was accompanied by a clatter of utensils and swift whisking.

Beyond the window, he could hear the ocassional bell of a bicycle and the loud conversations of the passerbys. A moped or a bike would zoom past but the loud shouts of a man wouldn't be veiled. He had a deep, gruff voice and Ryker felt a strange familiarity in his tone.

"No...I don't think so, but, mumma, didn't you say to not make friends for selfish purposes? Friendships should be pure! And we must look out for eachother! I'm sure Ryker would help me if I were ever in trouble, but you see, I'm so brilliant that I never get in trouble!"

"Of course, you're my best girl!"

The words were followed by a loud smooching noise; giggles echoed as Nadia protested her mother to not tickle her but the torment continued.

Ryker sat and stared at the green walls decorated with movie posters and envied the joy behind the door.

"I'm sure you've woken him up now!" Footsteps closed in and soon the door clicked open. "Ryker! You're awake! Come for dinner!" Nadia exclaimed as she rushed to his side, grabbed his hand and pulled him out.

Properly girlhandeled, Ryker stood in the Paisley's living room, gulping under the cold stare of Ms. Paisley.

"Ga—" he cleared his throat, "Good evening auntie, the food smells marvelous and your home is beautiful," he greeted the elder accompanied by a proper ninty-degree bow.

"Wow, I didn't think you had it in you," Nadia snorted from beside him. Though, her mother's glare shut her up.

"I see you're the one making my daughter wake up at four in the morning to pack extra lunches," Ms. Paisley said. She closed the gap between her and the child and placed a finger under his chin to push it up. While facing him, the rigidness of her cold narrowed eyes softened and her face eased into a smile, "And I see that you desparately need it. Look at the state of you, kid, don't they feed you? Oh you poor child, come," she agressively patted his back and ushered him to the dining table.

"T-thank you auntie!" Ryker curtsied again before taking a seat.

"See mumma, I told you, he needs it and he eats it so deliciously, his eyes light up!" Nadia exclaimed and took a seat beside him, "look look."

"They do not, stop lying," Ryker hissed and flipped his plate.

"They so do, they get so big!" Nadia laughed and circled her eyes with her hands, "So big!" She teased.

"You look like a cartoon now," Ryker snorted.

Meanwhile, Ms. Paisley served the kids a bowl of rice each and handed the spoons and chopsticks while laughing at the kids.

The kids thanked their elder, fought over a piece of egg (Nadia had to relent because Ryker was a guest) and spent the rest of the meal glaring and mocking eachother.

The food transported Ryker into an alternative dimension, a place where his family too would be seated along with hers and they could bicker over the crispiest bean and the juiciest chicken. Maybe his parents would relent like Nadia's mother did, place the chicken in his bowl and smile at him so endearingly that his heart would sweat.

It was nice to think.

"Will someone pick you up, Ryker? Or should I drive you home?" Ms. Paisley asked. She was sitting on the sofa of the living room with her laptop opened, working on a presentation. Unlike Nadia's unruly hair, hers were a lush brown, silky to sight, pulled into a neat bun. Though, like Nadia, she too sat in a proper slouch with her back curved into a perfect C.

Ryker placed the dishes in the dishwasher while Nadia scooped out icecream from the box and distributed it evenly (as evenly as putting four scoops in her bowl and two for the rest).

"Ah, thank you for the food auntie but someone will pick me up. You don't have to worry," Ryker clarified as he washed his hands and slid over to Nadia's side. "What are you doing?" He whispered over her shoulder, startling her guilty conscience.

"You scared me! Can't you see? I'm taking out icecream!" Nadia snapped and closed the lid shut.

"It looks a bit fishy to me..." Ryker dragged the sentence.

"Ha ha, icecream looks fishy? Only fish is supposed to look fishy! You're so dumb, Ryker," Nadia scoffed and nudged him away with her elbow. She picked up two cups and gestured him to pick up the third and follow.

"Mumma, icecream," Nadia placed a cup, with lesser icecream, on the table and ran towards her room with the other cup that held more.

"Thanks baby, don't forget to brush your teeth, okay?"

"Yes mumma!"

Ryker too hastened inside before Nadia would close the door in his face.

"Are you allowed to eat this much icecream?" Ryker asked as he placed his cup on her study table.

"Of course," Nadia shrugged, evading eye contact.

"Should I ask auntie?" Ryker wiggled his brows.

"No!" Nadia snapped and cornered him between the table and the wall on the side.

"AU—" Ryker opened his mouth but Nadia shoved a spoonful of icecream in it.

"Shhhh, we'll share, okay?" Nadia groaned and stepped away.

"Now we're talking," Ryker grinned and patted her head.

Their momentary silence was filled up by the gruffy voiced man swearing profusely at someone.

Nadia scowled and stabbed her icecream. "He's such a bad person," she spat.

"Who is he?" Ryker asked.

"It's Bernie's dad, he comes home only to swear and fight. This neighborhood is never peaceful because of him. One moment I'm listening to the birthday song from their house and the next there's plates breaking and wailing. Evil man, really."

Ryker nodded. It now made sense why Bernie was so meek and silent, ever since kindergarten.

Later, they flipped through some magazines to find ideas but Nadia ended up falling asleep with her head on his shoulder — without brushing her teeth.

Ryker tsked, dragged her chair to her bed and plopped her on it. Her covered her curled up body with her quilt and left the room to let her rest. She had a long day because of him.

"Ah, Ryker, I was about to call you. There's someone at the door, they're here to pick you, do you know them?" Ms. Paisely informed as she made her way, through the lobby, towards him.

"Ah, yes," Ryker said and jogged to the door only to find Antonio waiting for him. "I know him, he's — he's family," Ryker informed. "Thank you for having me over today, Ms. Paisely, and I apologise for any inconvenience caused."

"Oh sweet child, no need to thank or apologise, you're Nadia's friend, of course you're like my child," Ms. Paisely patted his head and handed him a bag, "Here, I packed some for you. You looked like you enjoyed it, with your eyes and everything."

Flustered, Ryker let out an audible cough and held out his hand to take the packet. "Thank you, Ms. Paisley," Ryker curtsied again and turned towards the door. His heart sunk and his footsteps weighed as he crossed the foyer and greeted Antonio's back but instead of the door being closed behind him, he saw Ms. Paisely walk past him and tap Antonio's shoulder.

"Excuse me, Mister," Ms. Paisley cleared her throat to gain his attention.

Antonio turned, wide eyed, to face the woman, "Yes ma'am?" He asked, quite unsure of what to expect.

Ms. Paisely smiled and made an exaggerated eye movement to usher him to the side before nearing close and hissing in his ear, "I don't mean to be rude but you need to take care of your child, are you seeing that frame? That is not how a third grader should look like. He is basically a stick figure."

"Ah," Antonio cowered from her proximity and turned to face little Ryker. His brows furrowed as he scrutinized the boy's slender frame, nothing seemed out of ordinary to him, mere genetics at play. "I will do better," he said, nonetheless, to avoid the woman from further aggravation.

"As you should," Ms. Paisley smiled and patted his back, "Be safe on your way back, yeah?" She turned to Ryker, "Come again, whenever you like."

The white streetlight haloed Ms. Paisely's dark head, enlightening the world behind her. If Ryker could, he would grab at the light to capture her kindness and bottle the moment forever. Though, he couldn't; so, he made peace with the fact that some memories can never be tangible. They throb on in our hearts as a reminder of our life, a momento of existence past and a hope for the future to come.

Would there be a second time he would feel it?

He wondered and wondered, instead of brainstorming for ideas, he shelfishly laid on his bed and stared at the moon outside his round windows, wishing and hoping for this connection to never be severed.

His fingers balled into small fists and he curled up, miniscule in the vastness of his bed, with the fists clenched against his chest. He prayed over and over for tomorrow to treat him just as kindly.

And it did.

The next day and the day after, the next to next to next and thereafter, Ryker would find himself at Nadia's place for reasons — well, there were no reasons, he would merely walk by her side while she talked, silently enter her home while she talked, eat snacks with her while she talked and the ocassional momentary silence was always filled by Bernie's dad shouting across the street.

Dinner at the Paiselys was always a fun affair as he got to snitch on Nadia and take her mother's side while she ate her ear off, a cold revenge for Nadia's day's worth of yap. Often they would do their homework together and it was on his fourth visit, when he swiped Nadia's eraser and left her searching all over the place only for him to magically make it appear in his hands did they circle back to picking a topic for the summer festival.

"What about a magic show? They're always fun! Especially at festivals!" Nadia proposed, her brown eyes lit up, widened in surprise by her own capability. A proud smile graced her lips, pushing her cheeks up, all facial bones expecting nothing but an affirmative answer.

"Oh, yes yes, they're fun — but won't a lot of people be doing it?" Ryker asked.

"Then we'll just have to be the best ones! I don't think anyone from our class has registered for a magic show. We can be the first!!" Nadia exclaimed, clapping her hands with sheer joy.

"What about the props? A good magic show requires good props to make it seem professional," Ryker pointed out, being the voice of reason.

"We'll make it!" was Nadia's prompt idealistic reply.

Ryker eased back into the chair and scoffed, "Neither of us can draw a star."

Nadia pinched her lower lip under her teeth, brows furrowed in deep contemplation. Her gaze lowered to the open notebooks laid on the table in front and the bad handwriting on both of them made her nose scrunch. She considered taking her mother's help, but the thought was dismissed as soon as it birthed. Nadia recalled how much of a perfectionist nitpicker her mother was whenever she would teach her a new recipe. She shivered at the memory of being slaved around the kitchen.

"You okay?" Ryker snapped his fingers to gain her attention.

Nadia opened her eyes. The momentary silence was, once again, occupied by Bernie's father shouting intelligibly. Though, as his words dragged on, Nadia's face lit up, once again. She jumped off her chair and grabbed Ryker's hand, demanding, "Let's go, I know the perfect person!!"

"Woah, woah, my wrist, ouch— where—"

Ryker's inquisitivity simmered as they stood outside a small white house, yellowing with time. The rust colored metal gate had entertained generations by its darkened door handle, without a gesture of cleanliness on their part. The chipped and flaky paint indicated a life well served.

"DID I ASK YOU TO SHOW ME YOUR FUCKING FACE?! GET IT AWAY WHEN MY GUESTS ARE HERE, YOU DUMB WOMAN! WHAT ARE YOU TRYING TO DO, SEDUCE THEM?!"

The sudden scream jolted the duo three steps away from the gate. Seemingly, it had endured more than any other gate in the entire neighborhood.

Nadia gulped and took a step forward. Ryker shook his head, agressively protesting the idea. He tried dragging her away but she flung his hand away and pushed the gate open.

The unoiled hinges creeked like a siren of doom.

"And this is how they die in horror movies," Ryker grumbled.

"Shhh," Nadia pressed a hand on his mouth. "You see that?" She whispered as they tip-toed inside the dead garden and spotted a metal staircase, by the right corner, leading upstairs. "We need to reach there," she whispered, pointing at the black metal door at the end of the staircase.

"It looks like a prison," Ryker whispered.

"It probably is."

Ryker grabbed Nadia's hand and crouched to the ground in order to avoid being viewed by the windows beside the door. Nadia followed his lead and together they waddled on the dirt laden ground, practising utmost stealth until—

HONK! HONK! HONK!

A vehicle stopped at the gate and alerted its presence.

"THAT FUCKER IS HERE." A shout bellowed from inside the house.

Nadia's hands went clammy, they heard a creak of a sofa-spring behind the window. Ryker took it as a cue to stand up, grip Nadia's hand tighter and dash around the corner to hide them behind the metal staircase.

The front door creaked open and another loud conversation commenced in the yard.

With heaving chests, sweaty faces and blown out eyes, Nadia and Ryker stared at eachother. Though, Ryker noticed, Nadia was staring not quite at him but at something behind him.