The Test

"Bilvy, can you whistle?"

I shook my head, not bothering to look up from my essay. I couldn't, or at least, I didn't think I could.

I came in here to finish some homework, what the fuck are you doing?

"It's probably because you've never tried."

I shook my head again, continuing to scribble furiously on the sheet of lined paper before me, trying to concentrate against such a distracting, singsong voice.

"Liaaaaaaaaar! I bet you can. You can, you can, you can."

Shut up, Gabe. Don't think I'm about to change everything for you.

Gabe dropped his biro on the desk, and leant across so his elbows were resting on the edge of my textbooks. He placed his arm around my shoulders, not too tightly, but in a lazy half-hug, and shook me ever so slightly.

"Okay, kid. Maybe you can't, but can you do something very important for me?"

I didn't mean to nod, but my head jerked itself forward before I could stop myself.

No, no, no, I can't help you. I'm sorry I said yes, I'll get it all wrong and I won't be good enough.

"The lips, the teeth, the tip of the tongue."

What?

I glanced in Gabe's direction, raising an eyebrow in confusion.

"Whistling."

He flicked his pointed tongue out a little way, before breathing in, then whistling a single, high pitched note. A little sharp, and quiet but loud at the same time. He drew this note out for just a second, before the sound dipped by a third, and as the pitch changed, Gabe drew in his cheeks, his eyes narrowing as he exhaled a little. And when the sound ran out, his tongue flickered across the edge of his teeth again, and he repeated the inhale-exhale to break the silence again.

"I want you to try too. It's... I need you to do this."

My walls were up again, and I shook my head violently, and quickly enough that I did not have to look him in the eyes.

"Please, William. It's not talking, it's breathing. You can breathe, can't you? It's not hard, all you have to do is breathe. Inhale, exhale, let the air turn cloudy if that's what it takes."

Suddenly his posture shifted, and the arm draped loosely across my back turned into a powerful embrace. He leant into the hug, not too forcefully, but enough that I could feel the rise and fall of his chest.

"Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale," he whispered, so quietly I had to silence my thoughts in order to hear the words as they blurred into one another, "Now place the tip of your tongue behind your lower front teeth."

I couldn't help but obey.

"Now exhale, and think of a note. Think really, really hard."

I pushed my tongue against my teeth, still able to taste mint from having brushed my teeth only a few hours earlier. The air was stiff with silence for a count of six, and I struggled to breathe as the rhythms of inhale-exhale turned into panicked gasps.

And then, in the suffocating silence, there was sound. A shaky, wavering note, barely lasting a second, but it lingered in the air.

A perfect sound, exactly in tune, not too loud but clear, bright and powerful.

I was running out of air, and the edges of my vision were beginning to scatter with the sunbeams, but I kept exhaling, I kept the note dancing in the air.

Gabe hugged me even tighter, leaning into my tangled hair and the back of my neck as he did.

"I told you. I knew you could do it. You've got to trust me."

I was finally thawing.