Human Sister

a club tonight?”
    We were sitting in early afternoon shade on the steps of his apartment building, watching children play in the park. He was sixteen, tall, and handsome in his short-sleeved pink shirt and tight-fitting blue jeans. He sat on the step above me, his arms over my shoulders, hugging me, his legs pressing against my sides. Never had I felt so much a part of him, never so calm, so yielding, yet so awakened and full of joy.
    “What kind of club?” I asked.
    “A place to dance, talk with friends.”
    “Okay. I’d love to go.” I tried to sound more excited than I was. I’d never been to a club. I didn’t even know what a club was, or how to dance. Would I appear awkward and embarrass Elio? Would his friends be there, his boyfriends?
    “Well, if we’re going,” Elio said, “you’ve got to get some new clothes, something other than those old farmer-boy clothes you always wear.”
    He had me stand in front of his Vidtel to record images of me that he entered into a shopping program. Over the next hour, he seemed to take pleasure dressing my likeness in many wild, colorful clothes from designers all over the world. But we finally settled on shopping at a local discount store because we needed the clothes for that evening. He picked out a white camisole, a ruby-colored cotton long-sleeved shirt, and a pair of black slacks. I felt self-consciously feminine in the silky-smooth camisole—the first I’d ever worn.
    Later, after dinner and before Elio and I left to go to the club, Aunt Lynh made us promise to be home by midnight. Though her request—“Elio, I want you to promise me that you’ll have your sister home by midnight”—didn’t seem significant to me at the time, events of a year later would revive in me a distinct memory of her words, her stern tone, and Elio’s subsequent funk.
    After taking a bus to an area near the University of Amsterdam, Elio and I walked several blocks before turning into a narrow alley lined with old red-brick buildings. About halfway down the alley was a small yellow sign, and on it, the image of a red dog.
    Under the sign was a black metal door with a brass knocker that squeaked when Elio raised it to knock. The door opened part way, letting out a blast of music. A huge man with the biggest muscles I’d ever seen scanned Elio’s membership card, then looked at me in an unfriendly manner and grunted something. Though I’d picked up only a few Dutch words during prior visits, “no card” I understood, and “little chicken.” It was clear that the huge fellow wasn’t going to let me in. But when Elio handed him several bills, the man stuffed them into his pants pocket, and the door was opened to us.
    I followed Elio into a room filled with smoke, flashing lights, and oppressively loud music. In the center of the room was a circular dance floor on which moved a sea of strobe-lit dancers. Some women were topless; some men wore only underpants. Several of the dancers had holographic partners. Around the circumference of the dance floor were columns of flashing lights that extended from the floor to the ceiling three stories above. Hundreds of people watched from a second-story balcony.
    Elio took my hand and led me through the crowd to an area in which there were tables and a bar. I recognized his best friend, Luuk, who was waving to us from one of the tables near the back. He, Elio, and I had played football and video games together in prior summers.
    “Good to see you again,” Luuk said. “You’ve matured a lot since last summer.”
    “Thanks,” I said. “I’m happy to see you, too.” I had hoped Elio would have noticed—at least would notice now that Luuk had said it—that in certain places I’d begun to curve and swell like fruit nearing harvest.
    “This is my girlfriend, Melissa,” Luuk continued. “And this is Liesbeth and her boyfriend Peer.”
    Melissa shook my hand, saying, “We’ve been looking forward to meeting you.”
    “Ja,” Liesbeth said, pulling an empty chair close to hers. “Sit here and tell us about California.”
    About a half-hour of small talk and two rounds of drinks later, Melissa and Luuk got up to dance. Liesbeth asked me to dance. I told her I didn’t know how, but she took my hand and led me onto the dance floor, where, in the blare of music, people danced like trees frenzied by wind. I looked back. Elio was watching us.
    “Hold both of my hands,” Liesbeth shouted just inches from my ear. “Feel the