Degrees of Sound

There is no such thing as silence, only degrees of sound.

When one imagines sound, or noise, they imagine loud things. Cities, concerts, car crashes. Sudden or prolonged high degrees of sound.

When one imagines silence, they may picture many things. Empty woods, a nighttime street, a cemetery.

When Ben made the decision to take a vacation in a small isolated house on the seaside in Maine, he had certainly imagined silence.

Instead, there was just a different degree of noise.

The world outside did not stay silent in the absence of humans. Instead, it raised its own volumes. A legion of crickets chirped away in the summer night, wind from a storm still days away twisted and moved the trees into an uneven orchestra of wood, strange animals made either mating or death calls deeper into the forest behind the house, while the ocean crashed and roared upon the rocks a few dozen feet in front of and below the house.

The house itself was no better. It did not stay silent. Its wooden construction moaned and creaked with each strong gust of wind, and when there was no wind, the wood instead settled into place.

What the noise wasn’t was the sound of humanity. No cars or their horns, no shouting or crying. This was as close as Ben could get to the world without Humanity, and to him that was close enough to silence to satisfy.

He let the relative silence wash over him as he sat back in the reclining chair in his temporary living room. It was one of three points of interest in the small space along with an old and small couch, and an ancient television that created a field of static whenever it was turned on. He ignored the television, focusing instead on a dry book about gardening he had brought with him on the trip. The book tended to make him relax and grow sleepy, which was a good complimentary effect to the lack of Human sound.

The books effect was powerful when combined with the sounds outside, and before he knew it, Ben was putting the book down and falling asleep right in the reclining chair. Drifting off to the sounds of the endless sound of waves on rock.

Then, he was shot awake by a high degree of sound.

His eyes blasted open, recognizing it as the sound of the old wooden door slamming shut, as it tended to do when it was windy. He made to move, but found his body locked in place. He couldn’t move much beyond his eyes.

And he wasn’t alone.

In the living room, staring at the television, was a Human. Only it wasn’t. It shared a general human shape, or close to it, but instead of flesh and blood seemed to be made up of sea mist and a collection of wet tree leaves. The concoction swirled around itself in a human-like shape, and the human-like head seemed to be tilted towards the television.

If he was able, Ben would’ve shrieked.

Despite his lack of noise, the figure stopped looking at the television, and looked to him instead.

It didn’t speak, it had no mouth after all. Instead, Ben’s vision seemed to cloud as an ocean wind barreled into his mind. Inside his head, he could hear reverberations that resembled those of the ocean falling upon the rocks outside. But they were more formed, they had more of a shape than the tranquil chaos of the rocks beyond. But the shape didn’t coalesce for him.

Once again, the figure barreled him with the noise, and finally the shape of the noise came into focus. They were words, distant and hard to fixate on, but they were there.

“You are loud.” The words informed.

Ben blinked; his brain overwhelmed from what was happening. In seeming response, the figure moved over to a nearby window, and without words or much movement seemed to blast it open, the wooden hinges giving way as the wood framed sides of the window slammed into the walls beside it. Once again, the figure blasted him with its words.

“You are loud.” It said once more.

Ben’s confusion shaped into coherence somewhat. He tried to form words, but his mouth would not cooperate. How could he be loud when this…thing was slamming windows and doors?

The figure pushed its form of words into him once again, seemingly in response to his own thoughts.

“Your breathing, the creaking of your dead tree shelter, the small radioactive square in your pocket, the ceaseless sighing. It is loud.” The thing chastised.

Ben wasn’t sure how to respond, was it reading his thoughts?

“Do not question. It is an observation. You are loud.” The thing slammed into him once again.

But Ben was here for silence, not noise, quite the opposite. He wanted to get away from the noise of other people.

"You bring your breath, you bring your loud explosive metal creation of rubber and steel, you bring the ceaseless radiation of your small black touching square stones. You are loud.” It said in correction.

Ben didn’t know how to react, except that he was sorry?

“You always come. You bring your noise and your waste. Silence is preferable.” It intoned into him.

But nature itself was noise, the animals and the ocean were noise. This THING was noise.

“This is meant to be. Your noise is not.” It said. If it had emotions underneath the cracking and crashing of its “voice” Ben couldn’t read them.

Ben thought he wasn’t sure exactly what to do about that, his existence was noise then.

“Yes, you are loud.” The thing confirmed. Ben thought on anyway.

If his existence was noise, what could he do about it?

“Consider more. All of you could do so.” It said to him.

Ben was equal parts terrified and confused at this point.

“Consider more. Your blocks of radiation. The black sludge of dead creatures that leaks from your explosive metal construct. The sound of your ceaseless sighing. Silence is desired, you are here. Consider it.” The voice had taken something resembling a patronizing tone, as much as crashing rocks and water could have such a tone, it was the closest to an emotion the thing had managed to have thus far.

Ben was mostly just back to terrified now.

“Consider.” It commanded. And Ben mentally agreed.

Ben’s eyes blasted open.

It was daytime now. He could hear the silence of the ocean crashing, though more distant now with the tide being out. The trees continued to creak and crack with the wind, though the tone was different.

He shot out of the chair, taking deep panicked breaths. As he looked around though, there was no sign of the…whatever it was.

Calmness began to find him as he looked around, confirming the lack of signs of intrusion. Though questions against his sanity remained.

As he circled the living room, listening to the sound of his breathing and panting, he noticed the window. It had been blown open, seemingly by wind.

At the base of the wall, under the window, Ben noticed a shimmer. He knelt and put his hand on the floor. His hand met hardwood floor, mixed with a faint wetness and a damp tree leaves.

He stood up, his heart pounding more than it had been. It probably blew open while he was asleep, and the leaves just mixed with sea air.

It was a solid explanation.

He still decided to turn off his phone for the rest of his visit.