Singing Parasite [On Hold]

1.2

Tyce and Jane started down the cliff. A strong wind blew out of the north and tugged at their clothes, and the huge blades of the windmills also put on speed. Just as they were walking past one of the windmills, one of its three arms lumbered downward, making an extremely loud, swoosh sound.

Jane jumped at the noise and looked up at the rotors as the narrow shadow of the blades fell on her.

"Easy," Tyce said, squeezing her hand. Jane nodded and kept on walking with him.

Soon, the windmills were behind them, and now they had leveled the facility's terrace. The facility was a large, rectangular block, housing several rooms. The darkening sky was now giving it an ominous feel.

"Look, daddy!" Jane pointed at the helicopter on top of the facility's terrace. "See... It's going down."

"Yeah," Tyce said. "They are probably protecting it from the storm." He stared at the silver helicopter's blades as they disappeared inside the facility. He couldn't see the platform but could hear its hydraulics as they lowered the platform and the helicopter sitting on it.

"It just got so cold. Will it rain today?" Jane asked, looking up apprehensively at the darkening sky.

Somewhere in the north, clouds rumbled, and a chill went down Tyce's spine. "Well, that answers your question." He bent down and picked her up. "Let's hurry home before lightning strikes us."

Jane looked at him with her eyes wide open. "O-Okay."

"You remember I had told you that the lightning strikes the kids--"

"--who break stuff." Jane looked at him woefully. "But I don't break them on purpose."

"Tell that to Mr. Lightning."

Jane said nothing.

Tyce grinned and, with Jane leaning against his shoulder, he carefully hurried down the gently sloping land.

They must have been ten paces away from the front door of their blue beach-hut when the first lightning bolt of the day flashed across the grey sky. Jane gasped and buried her face in the nook of Tyce's collar bone. Tyce ignored her nails that were digging in his shoulder and pushed open the door with his back, and once they were inside the house, he let her down lightly onto the carpet.

Jane threw her shoes off, hurried into the tiny living room, which was packed with a lot of furniture, climbed onto the sofa, shoved away her stuffed tiger toy, and peered out the window at the sea that was in a state of unrest.

Another thunder crackled in the sky, filling their little, dark, room with bright, white light. Jane again gasped, hurtled away from the window and pressed her face against the sofa cushion. Tyce went over to her, and ruffling her hair, he dropped the binoculars on the coffee table.

He heard the front door opening and turned around. His wife, Clarine Mani, stepped in and shut the door behind her. It seemed that she had failed to avoid the drizzle.

Rubbing her wet, brown hair with the heels of her palms, she said, "You are already home? Want an early dinner?" She walked past him, tickled Jane on her way, and disappeared into the dark doorway that led to their bedroom. She reappeared with a white towel, sat down on the couch--asking Jane to give her some space--and started drying her hair.

Tyce found himself staring at her. Why? Because he was pissed.

Her hands stopped their rhythmic movement. "What?" she asked.

"You knew I'm busy today," Tyce said, "and yet you sent her to me."

"Oh..." Her hands resumed their job. "If you are busy, then what are you doing here?"