Silence #shortstory #mondaymotivations

Esther Newton’s latest prompt asks for a story around silence

Silence; a much misunderstood sound

 Martin Thomas, the nursing home manager smiled at Greg, as he pulled the curtains back, letting in the sunshine. ‘Your father’s settled in well. He’s sleeping a lot but he’s happy to sit in his chair.’

‘Has he spoken yet?’ Greg’s anxiety was palpable.

The unctuous tones of the manager filled the room. ‘Not yet, no. But it’s early days. And losing your mother had to be a shock.’ He turned to the old man, who was staring at his lap. ‘See Norman, the sun’s out. Maybe we can go for a walk later?’

Norman Oldscombe looked up. Nice curtains, Betty. You always wanted floral. Look they’re waving!

Martin stood back from the open window. ‘Ha, he’s smiling. He understands even if he doesn’t speak. You like the birds, don’t you Norman?’

No nets, though. Maybe we can go and buy some later? He shook his head. No, not today. It’s Doris’ birthday, you’re right.

Martin frowned. ‘Does he not like birds?’

Greg took his father’s hand; it was frozen. ‘You love birds, don’t you, dad? Always fed them didn’t you?’ He held his father’s rheumy gaze, searching for a response.

You do too much sewing, Betty. See how rough your fingers are. Perhaps if we rubbed in some hand cream.

Greg felt his heart jolt as his father gently rubbed each finger. He lent forward and hugged his father’s frail shoulders, a tear sliding off his cheek and landing on Norman’s neck.

We’d better get that coat. I think it’s going to rain, you know. Can’t have your hair getting wet, can we? Go all frizzy. You remember Boscombe. That holiday when Greg was tiny? You got so cross when we got caught in the storm. How we laughed!!

Greg stood back, wiping his eyes, while Martin fiddled with the window, clearly embarrassed. ‘It’s good to see him happy. Having you visit clearly helps. Shall we push him into the garden for a little bit of air? You can sit and talk.’

They manoeuvred the old man into his wheelchair. As they did so he indicated the toilet so Greg eased his father through the door. Gingerly Norman stood upright and picked up the comb from the shelf over the sink. While he combed his hair with slow methodical strokes, Greg and Martin helped him onto the toilet.

No one met the other’s gaze: Martin’s mind drifted to the lunch menu and what they were going to do now the fish hadn’t been delivered; Greg thought about the indignity of his very private father having to be helped to the toilet by his son; and Norman?

You always said I had the best hair of any man, didn’t you love? You flatterer. Maybe we should go to the beach. Listen to the sea, Betty, like in Boscombe? You’d like that.

The silence echoed around the small spotless room, broken only by the sound of Norman relieving himself.

About TanGental

My name is Geoff Le Pard. Once I was a lawyer; now I am a writer. I've published several books: a four book series following Harry Spittle as he grows from hapless student to hapless partner in a London law firm; four others in different genres; a book of poetry; four anthologies of short fiction; and a memoir of my mother. I have several more in the pipeline. I have been blogging regularly since 2014, on topic as diverse as: poetry based on famous poems; memories from my life; my garden; my dog; a whole variety of short fiction; my attempts at baking and food; travel and the consequent disasters; theatre, film and book reviews; and the occasional thought piece. Mostly it is whatever takes my fancy. I avoid politics, mostly, and religion, always. I don't mean to upset anyone but if I do, well, sorry and I suggest you go elsewhere. These are my thoughts and no one else is to blame. If you want to nab anything I post, please acknowledge where it came from.
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32 Responses to Silence #shortstory #mondaymotivations

  1. esthernewton says:

    This story really makes you think. Very emotional; you’ve got inside these characters’ heads and this shows through in every word.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Ritu says:

    So touching… you know a bit about how I feel about the elderly as they begin this journey into regression…

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Makes me wonder what my Mum is thinking when she sits in her chair by the window. I know she misses my Dad after all this time (20 years now) and when we visit we try to engage her in conversation or take her out. Living with my sister, I’m glad she’s with family, but wish we lived closer. I know she enjoys receiving my letters though.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Allie P. says:

    Such a heartbreaking story, especially for the sons. The father, at least, is lost in happy memories.

    Liked by 1 person

  5. willowdot21 says:

    So sad Geoff but excellent!


  6. Helen Jones says:

    Beautifully sad, Geoff. It really makes you wonder about the elderly, those in the twilight between death and life and what they might be thinking about.

    Liked by 1 person

  7. Al Lane says:

    So bittersweet and moving, Geoff

    Liked by 1 person

  8. Great story. My mom had a neurological disease that stopped her from speaking or having facial expressions at the end of her life. My wife and I were there at the moment she passed and when she took her last breath, a big grin appeared on her face for the first time in over a year. It was interesting.

    Liked by 2 people

  9. Wow! Took my breath away, Geoff. Really makes you think. I could hear a pin drop after reading the story.

    Liked by 1 person

  10. Pingback: Monday Motivations | esthernewtonblog

  11. Lynn Love says:

    Wonderful Geoff. So beautiful and sad

    Liked by 1 person

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