Listen to My Voice

Prompt: Write a story that includes someone (or something) saying, “No don’t.”

Listen to My Voice

I was standing on the edge of the cliff when I whispered to myself “Go ahead jump. No one cares.” Then from out of nowhere I heard a voice shouting, “No don’t.”  I was shocked to hear a disembodied voice call out here in the middle of the wilderness. Why would anyone really care? My life has been a hodgepodge of shambled affairs. Why would it really matter if I jumped? My life has been filled with my own insecurities and people telling me “No don’t…say that, think that, do that…” Memories flooded my mind.

I had a troubling childhood brought on by my doting parents. They shielded me so much they stifled my curiosity as an infant and into my toddling years. “No, don’t touch! No, don’t put that in your mouth! No, don’t do that! Their constant hounding was offset by their incessant bickering.  I was old enough to understand that their behavior resulted in the deterioration of their so-called blissful marriage. They parted ways; neither one of them really wanted anything to do with me or to have me tag along for a free ride even though it was their own doing.

Eventually my parents settled on a neutral relative who would allow individual visitations from either one of them. At least that was my hope my parents would come. My Uncle Billy, a second cousin to my father, was more than eager to act as pseudo guardian. His indifference to either of my parents was troubling. Uncle Billy was a rugged guy and a self-made man. He loved the outdoors. He farmed his own land.  He cooked his own meals and he was not dependent on anyone. One might label him as a survivalist. I surmised that Billy’s ulterior motive was to make me into a self-made man. One thing though Uncle Billy never said to me was “No don’t…,” except for one time. I tried to rile Uncle Billy’s nonchalant demeanor when I decided to borrow his shotgun.  Wild life was sparse near his farm so I decided I would take aim at one of his penned bulls. I was about to squeeze the trigger when Uncle Billy cried out “No don’t.” It was a tad too late as I hit the bull dead on.  Needless to say, my uncle was not pleased. Instead of going ballistic on me, he said my punishment was to skin the beast, quarter it into meat portions, clean the hide, and then wash down the bloody mess I created. On top of that I was to cook dinner for the both of us. Uncle Billy did not let this incident cloud his judgment on my ineptitude. He had a lot of work ahead to mold me into a real man.

Before I could emulate my Uncle Billy and his freedom, I was confronted with the harsh frontier of finishing school. I squeaked by junior high. Now I faced the daunting task of confronting the intimidating cast of pompous, self-indulgent buffoons and goons who were waiting to devour an innocent teenager like me. I shared my concerns about high school with Uncle Billy. His direct answer was “Boy, you need to fight fire with blazing britches.” I gathered this meant fire.  Billy decided I needed to get buffed in my musculature for the next several weeks. He had me baling hay, feeding the animals, manually planting seed, repairing fences. If that wasn’t enough, I still had to do all the inside chores. During the time I was honing my agrarian skills and my muscle man body, I avoided the various gangs, goons and thugs who would assault me on campus. I knew sooner or later my time would come for a clash or two. 

That day came when a burly dude decided to push me around in front of his groupies. I resisted his pushing and slaps to the head. He then punched me several times in the stomach. I staggered, but remained unphased by the punishment.  A pent-up rush of energy surged from me as I rushed to the jock head butting him into next week. He fell to the ground dazed and very confused. I kneeled on him throwing and thrashing punches at his head. He began to bleed from the mouth and ears. I could hear his groupies and onlookers screaming “No, don’t.” School security pulled me off of him. An ambulance arrived as did the police who arrested me and drove me to the station.

Once the police had statements from the onlookers I was exonerated, but not without a warning because I was seventeen. When Uncle Billy arrived to get me from the station, he said nothing. When we looked at each other I saw his wryly smile like some acknowledgement of his approval for defending myself. We never discussed the incident after that.

It was different at school. I was shunned. No one wanted anything to do with me fearing I was a powder keg of pent-up rage. I decided to keep my focus on classes and avoid social interaction in and out of the classroom. My uncle could sense an even deeper change in my personality. One day he called me out on my hermit-like behavior. Uncle Billy said to me, “Boy, what’s gotten a hold of you? I know the fight was a major headache, literally. But you just can’t crawl under a rock. You need to move beyond such things. You’ve taken down a bull and a real ego jerk. Now it’s time for you to take a hold on your life.” I looked at him quizzically thinking my Uncle Billy is a life coach and philosopher too. I asked, “Uncle Billy, when life gets you down what do you do to ease the pain? What do you do?” Billy said, “Come with me, my boy. I want to show you instead of telling you how I deal with all of life’s cock and bull nonsense.”

I followed Billy as we scaled a steep grade upside a ridge by his farm. Along the way he told me short stories of his struggle with adversity in life. Our journey ended at the ridge’s edge. I looked down at the valley below covered with verdant trees and laced with waters winding through the forest. In the background I saw an immense ridge of mountains scanning the horizon. The sky was brilliant blue speckled with tiny, feathery clouds. The sun shimmered in golden and orangish hues as it began its descent below the horizon. Uncle Billy then said, “This is my refugee. Here I come to be reminded of the magnificence of God in His creation.  Here this beauty points to our humanity and that I am part of His work. God created this for me. He created it for you, too. It is in this place I am refreshed in His peace, love, and the assurance He is with me.”

He continued, “Unfortunately, God’s beauty is not lasting. Evil will continue to change it. Man’s wickedness has corrupted the magnificence of God’s creation.  Nevertheless, God in His infinite mercy began to restore what evil has done to the world. It came at a price of His Son, Jesus the Christ, to die for our iniquities and our wretchedness to each other. So I think often of this Jesus. I pray He invigorates me with His mercy, forgiveness, and grace.  I know by overcoming death and through His forgiveness He will grant me an eternity of peace and joy. I will live with the saints. No more tears, no more suffering.”

Uncle Billy stopped talking. I was amazed at what he said. I never would have guessed with his many talents that he was a theologian as well.  Billy never went to a brick-and-mortar church. His church was his farm, the forests, the majestic mountains. All of it pointed to the splendor of God’s creation and to the hope of an everlasting eternity in unsurpassed contentment, elation, and harmony according to my uncle. Uncle Billy turned to me saying, “It’s time you head back to the house. I am going to hunt out in the hills for a few sunsets. I’ll be back in time before you shoot your next bull.” It was Billy’s attempt at weak humor. I watched Uncle Billy as he made his way down the precipitous ridge.

As time went on, I was beside myself because I had not heard from Uncle Billy. I was in utter despair.  I journeyed back to the cliff’s edge where Uncle Billy and I shared a special moment.  I only became more restless. My anxiety was overwhelming.  I was despondent. I was standing on the edge of the cliff when I whispered to myself again, “Go ahead jump. No one cares.”  The clouds were drifting low, obscuring the edge of the cliff.  Perhaps it was the tears in my eyes and the surrounding fog that obscured my vision. I held a letter in my hand from my parents. It was a short, typed note that read:

“You are emancipated from our care. We are no longer responsible for your welfare. Understand it was never our intention to raise a child as we felt ill-equipped to do so. We decided Uncle Billy was a suitable guardian instead of adoption. We wish to remain private.”  

The note was not signed. Ill-equipped? Ugh! After all these years my parents never visited me nor did they want anything to do with me. They never saw that I was a changed person. Uncle Billy made sure of my transformation. I could not understand why my parents were so aloof. What was it that made them detest me?

Now I was truly alone. A week before I received the letter Uncle Billy died when he became very ill from eating poisonous mushrooms after his solo hunting expedition. That turned out to be my final lesson from Uncle Billy. For once in my life, I wish I imagined I was yelling at Uncle Billy “No, don’t,” as he was about to eat the shrooms. My heart ached. I felt so alone; abandoned and forsaken. My life truly was built from a hodgepodge of shambled affairs.

Then I heard the disembodied voice again say, “No don’t.” I looked around but could not see much except the low-lying fog. I thought maybe it was Billy’ voice; but that could not be. Maybe it was the wind howling through the valley that made me imagine the words? Maybe it was God’s creation calling out to me to hold on as it was not my time? Maybe, it was an inner voice inside me telling me to live and honor the legacy of my Uncle Billy?

Then, I heard the voice again say, “No don’t.”

With all my energy I yelled at the clouds, the mountains, and forests, “I won’t!”

“You are radiant with light, more majestic than mountains rich with game.” (Psalm 76: 4, NIV)

“I call on the Lord in my distress and He answers me. Save me, Lord, from lying lips and from deceitful tongues.” (Psalm 120:1-2, NIV)

“Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed, for His compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is Your faithfulness.” (Lamentations 3:22-24, NIV)

“Therefore, I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothes?... But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.  Therefore, do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.” (Matthew 6: 25, 35, NIV)

NIV=New International Version

Author: Pete Gautchier

Acknowledgement: Reedsy.com