The Secret Songs of D.C. Silverenn

| 23

A carrot snaps in my teeth, filling my mouth with a cold crispness. I already finished the hummus I purchased for lunch, so now, I'm left with a vegetable tray to snack on. If only I hadn't listened to Emi, then I'd have a bag of pita chips, too.

While my right hand shovels a celery stick into my mouth, the other unzips the viola case's front pocket. It's still the safest place to keep Silverenn's music, and at a moment's notice, I can vacate with my instrument and ensure the clues are with me.

"We should put our heads toward the clues." I open to the Prelude in the Silverenn scores and lean against my bed, the food in my stomach settling into the position. "The next clue says, 'The whole zips up and down unstuck. See it while the eyes are struck.'"

A frown creases Emi's face. She eats a forkful of salad, then covers her mouth. "The whole zips up and down... what'd you say?"

"The whole zips up and down unstuck."

Emi swallows. "Unstuck, so kind of like unhindered. Are there any fast passages in the piece?"

"Depends on the metronome marking." I pause. A more confusing statement circles my mind. "What do you make of the last part though? 'See it while the eyes are struck?'"

"I'm not even thinking about that yet," Emi says. "Are we supposed to analyze the entire piece?"

"That could be one interpretation of it." My eyes graze the music to 'The Sixth.' "Just by looking at it, I notice there are a lot of accidentals."

"Oh great. So we have to figure out the meaning of sharps and flats?"

I shrug. "Perhaps. Perhaps not."

"Maybe they spell something," Emi says. "Though what's the purpose of having chromatics? They don't matter in words."

"Maybe it just sounds cool."

"Everything Silverenn does has purpose."

"Not really. She's an anomaly, she can do whatever she wants."

Emi groans, though it soon is replaced by her crunching on her lunch. Ideas run through my head, but none of them quite fit. There's something we're missing.

"We need the phone poem," I remember. "The poem from the last clue goes with this clue."

"Read it again."

I open my digital notepad. "'There are two words that matter, Solar and lacquer, And five that are the latter, on route to the bay.'"

"Ugh, don't tell me we have to go to some bay area. Why'd she send us to Cabbage Edge only to take us away?"

"Is there a bay in Cabbage Edge?"

Emi rolls her eyes. "Of course not. A bay is on an ocean."

"Then maybe there's a bay named after Cabbage Edge."

Slowly, Emi begins to lift her phone with her free hand, while the other pierces chicken and a cherry tomato with her fork. Her wrist wobbles, and her fingers unclasp, letting her phone tumble back onto the bed. She glances at me, and I quickly look back at the music, though I still watch her over the top of the sheet. Emi sets her fork down, then scoops up her phone with both hands to type. I gnaw on my lip. She used to be good at one-handed typing.

I force my attention back to the Silverenn score before I comment on it. "Solar and Lacquer," I murmur. "What does lacquer mean?"

"I don't know. It's like a varnish," Emi says over a mouthful of salad.

"Maybe we need to find an instrument. Or an instrument store. Is there one on the Bay?"

"I'm still looking for a bay. So far, I can't find one."

"None named Cabbage Edge?"

Emi huffs. "No. It's weird enough for one town to be called that."

"Maybe it has significance," I say with a shrug. "You never know."

"Why don't you look up your own stuff?" Emi grumbles.

"Because you always seem so eager to. I wouldn't want to spoil your fun."

Emi shakes her head and rolls her eyes back to the bright screen. I look at the score, the notes. It's not lacking for accidentals, and I have to wonder what the piece actually sounds like. I reach for my case again, this time removing my instrument from the main compartment. In several quick twists, my bow tightens, and I set it on the metal strings.

"Good idea," Emi says, not looking up. "We should complete our daily practice."

I'm not sure who she's calling "we," since she already practiced for two hours before the mall while I was still sleeping — I'm still amazed that it didn't wake me up. Maybe she planned to rack up a few more hours this afternoon.

My bow pulls a mysterious sound from my instrument. We're back to the modern era of music. Emi notices too, since her face wrinkles at the eerie, whole-tone music. The pitches ask a question as they ascend and descend, never resolving to consonance, never falling into a sequence that makes sense to the human ear.

They build and build, tension overflowing as the listener is left wondering where the song is going, and if it will ever end. Even in the finale, is it truly an end? It's another open-ended pitch, a pitch that needs to be resolved instead of hanging in the air, an abandoned, lonely cry never heard, never put to rest.

Whole-tone. The piece is based on the whole-tone scale. I put my instrument down.

"Done already?" Emi asks.

"I figured out the first part of the clue," I say.

"Good. Because there's no bay associated with Cabbage Edge. Though there is a lake nearby..."

"What's it called?"

Emi looks me dead in the eye. "Salted Cabbage Lake."

Laughter explodes from me. "You've got to be kidding me!"

The pain on Emi's face as she shakes her head indicates otherwise.

"It's got to be some sort of inside joke," I say. "There's no other explanation."

"Well, the lake could explain why there's a bay in the clue." Emi stabs several more leaves of lettuce. Dressing drips off them as she takes a bite.

"Perhaps we should check it out this afternoon."

"After we practice. By the way, what were you going to say about the clue?"

"The piece is based on the whole-tone scale. I think that's what it means when it says 'the whole zips up and down unstuck.'"

"Now it's just a question of why our eyes are struck, and how the whole-tone scale relates to the poem, and the next step in the treasure hunt."

"Yeah." The air conditioning whooshes in place of the conversation. I reach for a bottle of water while Emi finishes her salad. "How about the instrument shop?"

"Couldn't find one," she says. "The nearest one is in a different town, in which case, it doesn't make sense for Silverenn to send us to Cabbage Edge."

"She wants us to go to the Lake." Though I sound confident, the answer seems too simple. Perhaps simple isn't the right word to use. I guess it just feels off, still nags at me. I take a long sip of water, cooling my dry throat. "Honestly, why wouldn't Silverenn just say 'Lake?' Why did she use the word 'bay?' It's not like she was trying to make the lines rhyme. Only the first and third ones rhyme."

"Lake might have been too close to lacquer," Emi suggests.

I'm not quite convinced yet, but perhaps going to the lake will give us both a fresh perspective. "Or people around here might refer to the lake as the bay. There are probably plenty of reasons. You want to head out now?"

"Not unless you plan to practice on the sandy shores."

I roll my eyes. "Fine." I slide my trio music from my case and begin to practice. Though as the boring, single note accompaniment chops through the air, I can't help but wonder if we'll ever have a trio again. Sure, a treasure hunt is more exciting, but I imagine it'll get old being on the run for the rest of my life.