The Window

In the empty hours of the silent morning, the clouds above cleared a path to the light, parting the space between the cold air. All days seemed empty to him he thought soundlessly from behind the window. He watched slowly as the light of day crept from where it had wondered off. It came out with no rush. Touching the bits and pieces of the new dawn without a care in the world. He consorted that it must be the work of fate. Life moving on with a pace so slow that matched a lot of things in his life at the present time.

With each parting cloud the sun touched the ground with a gentle feel. The light cutting through chasing the night shadow away. The rays a beautiful hue of millions of light breaking the still cold air of this new born season. The baby fresh grass hatching below the dampen soil, and small leaves with droplets resting on the surface. The dried tree teaming with skinny bare branches that shared an eerie vacancy from its usual green. A raw line of sleeping buds hanged in silent. Like a soundless army waiting in tiny battalions, stationed at the tips of the branches which appeared weaken from the winter storms, each glowing from the light on this new day.

The sadness was inevitable in his soul, for the season that passed had left deep bruises that will surely scar. In the wave of memories, the unkind holiday was in full playback. He watched quietly at the emptiness of his pockets, and of the large wooden table to which he had once filled with endless spoils. But now all this it seemed a distant dream, like a smoke dissipating from a dying fire. He cursed the card that turned his fortune, his thoughts weeping in despair at his very own existence. A jobless father with another one coming, to be awake at this gray of dawn avoiding his bed for the comfort much like of everything was lost in the past.

He wanted to go out but the window was all he needed. It had become a ritual to soothe his soul for most of the days. A comfort that let him wonder, imagine and long for the days he used to be what he no more was. He would usually come here sometimes in the day and sometimes at the hours of dreams but mostly before first light.

He avoided his bed and left it untouched for it was no more a restful part, but a place to stare at the void of the white ceiling above. Every night casting blame after blame and then some more to the unbalanced world at large. Why a man fully abled and determined should loose his means to put food on the table? Why the ones who have abundant just keep piling more and the rest kept loosing, even the little they had?

The chair become his new bed. A solace he would never have expected. He stumbled upon it on a snowing morning when the winds raved and the snow poured. A day with eerie street lights that reflected an evening in the late night hours. He sat there quietly as flakes fell onto one another. Somehow he found the view from the cracked curtain crease on the square wooden with a glass shield very consoling. It was a sad comfort.

It all started on a Tuesday. It was the end of summer but the heat was still unbearable. The email came when he was out for lunch. He was regretting walking to lunch, but it was the only time he would get undisturbed. He was never one to believe in bad omens but a dark crow on the telephone line dropped him a white fecal matter that left a stain on his work blues. The crow a lone assailant had only grazed the surface, for another predator was already lurking in the plain of day. He muttered a few words at the crow that would have awaken his wife’s wrath had she been present. A temperament he constantly strived to avoid.

He noticed the ominous in the air with every eyes creeping in soreness when he entered the office door. Walking by the front desk, he was met with a crying lady who ran past him with sobbing eyes. Puzzled by the expression, he turned to ask but she disappeared beyond the door labeled “Women”. Maintaining his curiosity, he brushed it off as a family emergency or one of the sort.

He questions his memory of the following parts for much of them have insignificant. He does not remember talking to anyone but walking straight to his desk. He picked up a fork from the office break room and made his way back to the green chair, that rested behind his mahogany desk. He scrolled briefly to review his emails as such was his habit.

“Notice of Temporary Layoff” the words read in large caps on the inbox pane. As he slumped on his desk in disbelief, his body frozen. Hands, knees, fingers and eyes unable to move. Even blinking felt impossible at the sight of the heading. 

A paralytic chill ran across his spine, his muscles stiff and the eyes twitching as he scanned rampantly at the heading in view. The strike was quick but the poison was slow. Powerless, he stared with his mouth open at the fangs that had just open, to swallow him whole.

The contents frightened him, creating emotions unfamiliar to him. He fixed his gaze on the screen with a disbelief expression, his hands clasped together to control the shaking. He had learned to do this when he was in high school especially during exams, when his hands would constantly shake. For a moment he wondered whether it was real or some idea of a bad joke. He slowly tapped his finger to click open, once then twice and finally centered on the third try he succeeded. He was trembling with fear that was finally confirmed upon viewing of the entire message. It was very clear that this was a bad joke.

The heart was in race of its own each beat heavier than the latter, his lunch forgotten laid at the edge of the desk, unopened. He struggled to restrain himself from putting a hole through the two twenty one inch screens mounted in front of him, as he read the email. He read it one more time, and then again. And again. And again and again. Word by word. Coma by coma. Hoping somehow this was not meant for him or the words will change with each read. Actions he will recollect on the days to come as being utterly useless.

Dear Mr Rankin,

We regret to inform you that due to the current economic crisis and poor industrial conditions we have been forced to temporary eliminate some employee positions including your own.

Its is with great difficulty that starting October 23, 2020 we will be no longer be able to utilize your services. We are very grateful for all the work you have performed during your employment here.

Please see human resource, to make the adequate arrangements regarding your retirement accounts and work plan benefits that were extended to your during your time prior to this date. 

We wish you every success in finding a new position.

Please accept our best of wishes for your future endeavors.

Respectfully,

Remy Jolt 

HR Associate

D&D Distributors

The rest of the week was a blur of emotions. Each one competing for existing with the other. His mind a dysfunction of ideas. He mused through a void of thought with unstable pangs of what was and is to be. Like a wanderer in the desert , he suffered alone, quietly and in endless defeat of what he should do next. The place he had offered ten years of his adult life had abandoned him without a second look. He still could not believe it.

The raging unconscious of breaking grounds was too hard to ignore. The walls inside were feeble and the structure weak. He could not face his wife that day. He did not know what to say. He stood by the kitchen, three weeks later and broke into tears. She cried with him and little Davey too. He had sobbed in the silent of his mind and in the waters of the bath but finally the curtain had fallen. A façade of smile plastered his face every time he would walk in the room. A fake reassurance of “I’ll be fine, we’ll be fine” was all he could say.

That winter was the longest he had faced in all of his life. He was ambitious at first seeking jobs in the industry he had once known. But with weeks unanswered, he settled for the holidays temps and seasonal stockers needed on every big retail store. He managed to pay the bills and sometimes a little more. Between his maxed out credit cards and the over drafted bank accounts he managed to stay just above water. He could feel the waves coming back, armed with a vengeance stronger than before. A “For Sale” sign, now hanged at the back of the white Chevrolet. It had become a companion something more than a car in his daily commutes and now another way to make ends meet.

It is in darkness that we find light and in challenges that we find strength. The light had faded and the darkness had settled. He could fell that his strength was beginning to fade, and from this tiny square opening on his house he could find peace.

On this morning however a new player was coming out. It was in the corner of his eyes that he caught a movement. A slow jump that interrupted the final dive in the depth of misery. The guest unannounced pranced on his open yard. The uninvited stranger extended its uncouth manners. He narrowed his eyes to get a closer look forgetting his thoughts be it for an instant.

The furry tail hopped around and wagged it’s back with movements of uncontrolled spasms. The little creature fully awake made turns so abrupt, the eyes could not follow. The new grass once covered with a cold white blanket shimmered in hope like standing piers. The beauty at it’s best when the reflecting light murmured on the ground. He felt his emotions elevate rapidly like a spur of ray was hitting his dark insides just from watching the little creature move. It had no plans, no direction just basic instinct. The mind a singular function.

Leaving the tree it had called home for most of the cold, the squirrel moved with authority. A clear vision in the little mind of finding what was most needed. Food. No sense of direction nor promises just a simple movement of going out. The creature stood mighty confident in the open garden with the limbs raised. It bounced around digging deep in the soft ground. 

He watched silently at the unwelcome guest, his eyes catching the infant perennials that had started to open. The flowers yet to be born but somehow the worst of the worst had already passed. Something new was coming, something he could not explain. The garden of grays now returning to its colors, the blue, the red, the purple and yellow will soon be visible. He knew deep down that all seasons end, even the darkest of night will see the light of day. All life erupting from the death of winter. 

As if frozen in time, he gazed outside to the new morning. The life around him becoming more vivid and more vibrant. A new season unleashed, unhindered. The flow of time that he had watched every morning the past days seemed very different to him today. And for the first time in long time he genuinely smiled. A weight on his back had fallen, he remembered his bed and wished to go back now. He knew it was never going to be the same. The emptiness was still in him but it’s shape had suddenly change. The anger had melted just like the snow a month earlier. And he saw the gray clouds, vanish in horizon. 

He removed the cold metal barrel from his mouth, rising smoothly from his chair and returned his twelve gauge Winchester back in the cabinet before walking out.

A yellow ray of warmth was on his face. The clouds above had completely cleared. 

****