Andrius started the day like he started every other day: he opened his eyes.
It was still early and his song rang freshly inside his head. He remained under the woolen covers a moment and whispered the lyrics to himself.
“Who can make a world for us?
Zydrunas, Zydrunas
The strongest heart he turned to dust,
Zydrunas, Zydrunas
He made a place for us to be
Fought back the disease—”
Andrius stopped. That part didn’t rhyme exactly, and the rhythm wasn’t too good either. It hadn’t stuck out to him when he was making it up yesterday, but now it sounded wrong. He would have to fix it before he arrived at lessons. Andrius wasn’t very good at music. It seemed like he was the only one who struggled with it.
Take-home assignments were not his strong suit.
Andrius snuggled deeper into the warm, scratchy blankets. It was hard to hear this early in the day because the sun wasn’t singing yet. The cows, however, were singing. They lowed softly from across the barn, asking to be milked. He hoped Daiva wouldn’t hear them from the house.
“Andrius!” a husky voice called out, making him wince. “Are you deaf?”
He was out of the covers in an instant, trying not to topple the pile of hay that made up his bed.
“The cows need to be milked and you’re sleeping in,” the same voice shrilled. “Lazy cad!”
Of course she had heard the cows lowing. Father said that Daiva had ears as sharp as her tongue. Of course, even as Daiva chastised Andrius for lying in bed, he knew that doubtlessly she was doing the same, but Andrius didn’t think about that. Instead, blinking sleep from his eyes, he walked to the milking pail and took it in his hands. He took a sip of water from his wooden pitcher, then he picked up the milking stool and made his way to the cows.
Teats felt uncomfortable in his hands. He hated milking. He hoped the sun would sing soon so that he could at least hear.
“Andrius? Is that you?”
Andrius smiled as he entered the house, looking for something to eat. There was a plate on the table with five boiled eggs and a pile of bacon on top of a bowl of swelled grain.
“Yes, Father.”
“Have you finished your chores?”
Andrius reached into his pockets and delicately placed each egg he withdrew into the basket hanging on the wall. The chickens were laying well recently. Spring was good for eggs.
“Yes, Father.”
“Good, good. You’re a good boy, Andrius.”
His father took a bite of one of the eggs on his own plate, which was more reasonably portioned: two eggs, one piece of bacon, and a spoonful of grain. He was a thin man and his wispy hair betrayed his age.
Andrius kissed his whiskery cheek and sat down next to him, stomach growling.
Suddenly the door slammed and Andrius jolted, dropping a piece of bacon.
“Andrius!”
The shrill sound took the slouch right out of him. He turned his head toward Daiva.
“Hello, dear,” his father greeted her gently.
“Aleksandras, is your name Andrius? Am I speaking to you?”
“No, dear.”
“Then keep your ‘dears’ to yourself.” Daiva slammed a meaty hand on the table and slid it to the teeming plates in front of Andrius. She pushed them away. “How many eggs did you collect today, Andrius?”
“Seven.”
“Liar.”
“You can check. They’re in the basket.”
Daiva frowned, then lumbered her way over to the wall. She had ratty hair that she rarely bothered to brush and speckles on her arms just like the eggs. She was much younger than her husband, but that did not make her pleasant. She had a quick temper and she never let anyone touch her. Hugs were out of the question, not that Andrius particularly wanted to hug her.
“And I know you aren’t sitting in my seat,” she said as she touched the fresh eggs in the basket, counting them.
There were only two stools, so of course he was in her seat. He stood up.
“Let the boy have a seat,” Aleksandras said. “He’s been on his feet all morning.”
“And I haven’t?” Daiva challenged as she counted the freshly collected eggs once more. “Certainly, put the boy in a seat but let your darling wife who slaves away all day long stand on her feet. Yes, I understand your point, Aleksandras.”
His father leaned over. “You better stand up, Andrius,” he said in an undertone. Andrius was standing already.
The floor shook as Daiva lumbered over to the table, felt for her seat, then collapsed into it. She was breathing from her mouth like she usually did. Andrius wasn’t overly fond of the noise, but he stayed quiet. Daiva reached forward and pulled the mountain of eggs, bacon, and grain toward her and she began to eat.
She was a loud chewer, not bothering to close her mouth much of the time. Andrius’s stomach grumbled.
“Are you still standing there?” Daiva asked halfway through her fourth egg. “Go to your lessons.”
“I haven’t had any breakfast yet.”
“You’re doing a poor job with the chickens.”
“But you just counted the eggs! There were seven this morning and six yesterday.”
“You’re flustering them when you collect. That will make them lay less often, so I’m making up for it by saving eggs this morning. Now go to your lessons.”
Andrius’s shoulders slumped. This was so unfair. He grumbled inwardly along with his stomach as he picked up his water pitcher and walked out the door.
He muttered to himself once he was far enough away that no one would hear him. “I need to eat something.”
The door clamored shut and he turned around. His father was approaching, bumbling along as fast as he was able.
“Andrius!” he called. “Andrius, wait a moment!”
The old man caught up to him and let go of the rope that led from the main road to where they lived on Twenty-fifth Stone.
“Andrius,” he said again.
“Yes, Father?”
Aleksandras held out a hand with two long, narrow sticks.
“You forgot your cane.”
“Thanks, Papa.”
Andrius took the walking stick and Aleksandras tussled his hair.
“Did you finish your song for your lessons today?”
“Not yet. I have something but it isn’t right. I’ll finish it as I walk.”
His father, bent over, nodded in agreement.
“Yes, yes you will. You’re a smart boy. You’ll figure it out.” He smiled. “How are your magic ears? Ready for tonight?”
Andrius stood his four-and-a-half-foot body a little straighter.
“They’re sharp as ever.”
“Herkus says he has a set of stones so smooth he’ll finally crack your winning streak.
“The only thing he will hear crack is his heart when he realizes how much he has lost to us.”
They laughed together then. The sun was now singing loudly overhead. He could feel its rays on his skin.
“That’s my Andrius. You’re a smart boy. Do well at lessons. You’re always forgetting your cane.”
Andrius held the stick in front of his face. He didn’t know what the big deal was.
Aleksandras lowered his voice and reached into his pocket.