Whisper Gatherers by Nicola McDonagh Page B

nose and pouted her saggy mouth. “Did you now? Well, I must not have heard you.”
    “That would be right.” Deogol turned to us. “All she does is sit on the comfycouch and play on her slab. When I do such stuff I am admonished.”
    I near applauded my bro for using such a big word, but Santy frowned. I said nowt.
    “Greatgrangran is old and has served our community well. If, in the last great part of her life, she chooses to amuse herself with comp games, then so be it, she is entitled. You are not.”
    The argument lost its fire when Orva entered. “Sorry, ‘scuse the interruption, but we have orders to take Adara to practise her vocal skills. The ceremony is but a few moons away.”
    I looked down at my dirty outfit. “I need to wash and put on fresh garments.”
    Santy relaxed her stiff-shouldered stance, gave Deogol a ‘Don’t you dare say anything’ look and put her hand on my shoulder.
    “Indeed you do. Whilst we are all here, I must re-arrange our sleeping quarters so as to fit in our guests.”
    Deogol snorted. “I’ll not give up my room. I need quiet and solitude for my studies.”
    “What studies are you taking outside of class?”
    My bro shuffled in his chair, then went the colour of the sky at sunrise. “Extra stuff that they do not teach.”
    “Like what?” Santy said. She bent low, put her elbows on the table and leant in close to Deogol.
    “Stuff, just stuff, okay!” He pushed back his chair and stood. His face reddened even more. I thought he was about to blub when Grangran touched his arm.
    “Leave the lad be. He has much to occupy his mind it would seem. Who are we to deny him this?”
    Santy slowly straightened and took a long breath. “This matter will keep. Deogol, you will not need to give up your room, however, you will need to share it.”
    “Not with Adara!”
    “Oy, no need to sound so mean,” I said, more hurt than I should have been.
    “Calm, calm. No, you will not share with your sister, but with Dreng. Worry not, for he will be guarding Adara during the moontime when you should be asleep. He will rest during your waking hours. Do not show me that face. It is done.”
    My bro scowled, clenched his hands, but did not respond. Santy nodded. “Orva and I will share. You can remain as is, Adara. Before you say another word, Deogol, your sister is of an age when she needs alone time and space to become who she is. This arrangement will be brief. Now, go wash and change. You must rehearse before the light diminishes.”
    “Rightly so. Back in a few secs,” I said and went to my room.
    Once inside I became heavy of limb and longed to lie down, but I could not, so went straight to the cleansing place. I secured the door, not knowing rightly why, and took off my smelly clothes. Then I threw them into the wallbasket, stepped into the glass-fronted cubicle and let the steamshower jets blast away all trace of sweat, muck and slime. Then I dried myself on a fluffly towel and went back into my sleeping quarters to choose suitable attire for my practise.
    I opened the clothespace and pulled out my favourite outside troos made from thick, brown synthowool, and a black, long-sleeved tunic. Baggy enough to allow me to stretch and belt out my song. With a wink to my animal murals, I placed said garments on the chair by the window, then took out suitable undergarments from the beddrawer. The bazoomiecups felt tighter than before, yep, for sure my mams were swelling, becoming sore. The reddiness was fast approaching. I dressed quickly and went back to the kinsfolk room.
    All were resting on the comfycouch, except for Greatgrangran. She was sitting on the big chair playing something on her slab. Santy stood in the doorway of the eating place and chewed on her fingernail. My bro sat hunched up in between Orva and Dreng, who stared at the wall as if it were showing an interesting vid. “Hi-hi. I am all changed.”
    Quick as a Curfewrebel clocked by a Flashlighter, both S.A.N.T.S. poinged