The Drum Above the Hall

Zeynep sits at a long table in the church hall. In front of her is a pile of grey cloth. It is the fourth hour of the sewing circle.

She pushes a needle into the cloth. It makes no sound. Nothing in this room makes a sound.

Next to her, Rolf cuts thread with a small pair of scissors. He yawns for the tenth time.

"I want an adventure," Zeynep whispers.

"Me too," says Rolf. "I want to climb a mountain. Or cross a desert."

"Or find a lost city."

"Or just leave this table."

They laugh quietly. Across the hall, the circle leader looks up. She has sharp eyes and a quick smile.

"What is so funny over there?" she asks.

Zeynep stands up. Her heart beats fast, but she speaks anyway.

"Please, give us something exciting to do. Just once. We sew grey cloth all day."

The room is quiet. The other members stop sewing and look at the two teens.

The leader puts down her cup. "Something exciting," she says slowly. "Hmm. I may have a job for you."

She walks to a shelf by the window. On it sits a small round drum with a faded blue top. She picks it up and holds it out to Zeynep.

"Our big banner is missing," she says. "We need it for the town fair this weekend. It hangs somewhere in the tower."

"The tower?" says Rolf. His voice is a little high.

"Yes. The door is behind the stage. The banner is at the top. Take the drum with you. When you find the banner, beat the drum three times. We will hear you down here."

Zeynep takes the drum. It is light, and the top feels warm. "That is the whole job?"

"That is the whole job," the leader says. "Be careful on the stairs."

Behind the stage, there is a low wooden door. It looks like a door to a cupboard. Rolf pulls the handle, but it does not move.

"It is locked," he says.

"Look up," says Zeynep.

On a hook above the door hangs a key. It has a round head like a button. She stands on a chair and takes it down.

The key turns with a loud click. The door opens, and a cold smell of dust comes out. Beyond it are stone stairs that go up in a tight circle.

"You go first," says Rolf.

"No," says Zeynep. "We go together."

They climb. The stairs are narrow, and the walls are rough. A small window shows them a piece of blue sky. Zeynep counts the steps out loud. At forty, Rolf stops.

"My legs hurt," he says.

"Mine too," says Zeynep. "But this is an adventure. Adventures always hurt a little."

"Who told you that?"

"I just decided it."

He laughs and starts to climb again. At sixty steps, they reach a small room full of old chairs. A pigeon sits on a table. It looks at them with one round eye. Then it flies out of a hole in the wall.

At ninety steps, the stairs end. In front of them is a wooden ladder. It goes up to a square door in the ceiling.

Rolf looks at the ladder. His face is pale.

"I do not like heights," he says.

"I know," says Zeynep. "I will go first. You can hold the drum."

She gives him the drum. She climbs the ladder, one hand after the other. She pushes the door open with her shoulder. Light falls on her face.

"Rolf, come up. You must see this."

He closes his eyes and climbs. Zeynep takes his hand at the top and pulls him through.

They are in the bell room. There are open arches on every side. Below them lies the whole town. The roofs look like toys. The river shines like a silver thread. Far away, a train crosses a long bridge.

"Wow," says Rolf. He forgets to be afraid.

"We are higher than the trees," Zeynep says. "We are higher than everything."

In the middle of the room hangs a huge old bell. Around the bell, someone tied a long, heavy roll of cloth. It is dusty. But Zeynep sees a stripe of gold at the edge.

"The banner," she says. "It was here all the time."

"Somebody hid it," says Rolf. "Or forgot it."

"Does it matter?"

"No." He grins. "We found it."

Together they pull the cloth. It falls to the floor in a heavy wave. Dust jumps up and makes them cough. Under the dust, the banner shines. It shows a blue river and a white bird. Tiny lines of thread cover it.

Zeynep touches the white bird. "Look at the thread. The circle made this."

"Maybe the leader sewed it herself," says Rolf. "Many years ago."

"Maybe she wanted us to see the town from here."

"Maybe she planned the whole thing."

Zeynep thinks about the leader's quick smile. She thinks about the grey cloth and the long boring hours. Today she wants a lost city. Instead she gets ninety steps and a view of the river.

It is not the adventure she wanted. It is better, because it is real.

"We still have a job," says Rolf. He holds out the drum.

Zeynep takes it and steps close to the open arch. The wind pulls at her hair. Below her, the church hall is a small grey square.

She lifts the drum high above her head. She hits it three times.

Boom. Boom. Boom.