For a moment, I force my eyelids open, only to close them again immediately. They are too heavy. Just like my arms. And my legs too. Everything about me feels like it weighs at least a ton.
"Oh God, please no," I struggle to utter, yet I know it’s true. My early shift starts in just under an hour.
I sit up in bed and pat my cheeks. "Come on." My attempt to motivate myself fails miserably. Even the sun, rising above the horizon through the French window of my bedroom, cannot inspire me.
I have zero energy, and I don’t know why. Since Ireturned to my job a week ago, days like this have become more frequent despite the fact that I sleep like a rock at night. I don’t remember waking up or tossing and turning. Nothing. I should be perfectly rested, yet I often feel like a zombie.
"Coffee. I need coffee," I mutter, yawning before reluctantly peeling myself out of bed.
I go through my morning routine as if on autopilot. With a dull head, I arrive at the office sixty minutes later. The feeling doesn’t fade during my shift, and the fact that the bright, sunny weather ensures an uneventful day at work doesn’t help. My eyes close more than once, and my muscles feel heavy.
At the end of my shift, I don’t know how I survived the eight hours. And I have even less of an idea how I will survive the afternoon at my sister’s place.
"You promised her," I remind myself, pushing open the door as I leave. I take a deep breath of the crisp mountain air. It’s still quite cool for late April, but it doesn’t manage to wake me up at all.
With my hands in my pockets, I drag myself to my mountain bike and start pedaling at a snail’s pace. It takes me about twenty minutes to reach Hanna and Florian’s house.
Shaking my head, I lean my bike against the garden fence next to the raspberry bushes. Then I take the gravel path that leads around the house. In the midst of their wild, overgrown natural garden, I find my sister. Surrounded by buzzing bees, she crouches among the primroses, collecting flowers. Florian, as usual, is nowhere to be seen. He’s probably hiding behind his computer, leaving the strenuous work to Hanna.
The crunching of the gravel under my feet likelygives away my arrival, as my sister looks up before I even reach her. Just a moment ago, she had a dreamy expression on her face, but now, a deep furrow forms between her eyebrows.
"Hey, dear brother." She brushes aside her bangs.
"Where do I start?" I clap my hands together in an attempt to look enthusiastic.
She studies me for a moment. "You look like a panda."
What does that mean?
She pushes herself up, crossing the half-high wildflower meadow to reach me, and touches my chin. The scent of flowers on her fingers fills my nose. "Pale cheeks, dark circles under your eyes, bloodshot eyes," she murmurs to herself.
She’d better stop analyzing. "I just need to get used to getting up again. That’s all," I say. Without waiting for her reaction, I head to the shed where my tool belt and various pieces of wood are stored. "I’ll continue working on the sun terrace, alright?" I shout to her as I slide the hammer into the designated loop on my belt next to the bag of nails.
There’s a commotion behind me. "The stove in cabin five isn’t working, and the guest in cabin one claims the bed squeaks. Could you take a look at that later?" I hear my sister ask. "Florian doesn’t have time, unfortunately," she adds apologetically.
How surprising. I bite my tongue. Everyone has to make their own choices, and Hanna is no exception. Besides, I’m just glad she’s no longer interrogating me.
Just as I breathe an internal sigh of relief, she suddenly appears beside me and places her hand on my shoulder. "Are you really okay?"
I can’t escape her penetrating gaze. "I’m fine," I manage to say, but as soon as I try to smile, a persistent yawn rises within me. Hurriedly, I withdraw from Hanna’s scrutinizing gaze and march out through the low doorframe.
At least this time she doesn’t follow me. Nevertheless, I feel her eyes on my back as I nail the first board onto the substructure of the new terrace in Hanna’s garden. The hammer feels heavy in my hand, and after just two planks, my arm becomes fatigued. Yet I continue until the sun disappears behind the mountain peaks so that my sister won’t worry unnecessarily.
***
Hours later, I survey my work. Tomorrow, I’ll stain the wood, and then I just need to sand the posts for the boundary rope and finish assembling the lounge chairs.
"Over here, I’ll plant yarrow, chervil, and cornflowers." Hanna enthusiastically walks toward me. She points at the empty spot to the right of the terrace. "Maybe we can build a waist-high stone wall or incorporate an insect hotel. What do you think?"
I nod. Although it hasn't reached its full potential just yet, she has turned this garden into a paradise. Not only for people but also for plants and animals.
"That sounds lovely," I say, already considering in my mind which types of wood I could use for the insect hotel.
Hanna rests her head on my shoulder, and silence falls between us. "Have you tried ginseng yet?" sheeventually asks, her voice carrying that affectionate tone that immediately causes my stomach to knot.
Of course, I have. Peppermint oil, ginkgo, and contrast showers too. I press my lips together and pull her closer to me. "What if there’s something serious causing it?" Her voice breaks, and she swallows hard. "It started the same way with Dad’s cancer back then."
Of course, it’s the first thing she thinks of. "I’m just a little exhausted. No need to worry," I quickly say although I hardly know what to think myself. Wherever this heaviness is coming from, it just won’t lift.
