Silence

" 9:00 p.m. Saturday, April 1986

I like the deep sound of silence, though the world is filled with laughter. The morning sun rising, showing its gleaming shadow on the houses in the East. The white mammal resting on the old cracked windowsill, letting the sun rest on its fur through the window. The shadow of the sun in my worn blue curtains. I remember entering this room back when I was younger to wake my parents. They would hush me and retire me to my room. And there I sat, sitting on top of my bed. And now I was resting on top of my parent's bed, now mine. Where my youngsters did the same, and I would retire them back to bed. But now they have grown, and so have I to where I am a wrinkly old man they call on the street. The children run past me and offer their aid in carrying my bags. And I see their parents smiling, knowing the children will grow kind and wise. And my own children have grown kind and wise. To where one was married to the wealthiest of the city, and my other earning money from winning cases. Both are successful in life. I used my time here in this town, teaching the next generation. Mr. Henderson they called me. I was the favorite among my students. Their cheers and smiles as they turned in their work. I made them do stories of all kinds, unfolding them to all theories and knowledge among them. And even so, they knew to keep quiet, for I liked peace. My days spent in the classroom were always quiet. My house too, was quiet, for there were no children inside to maintain. As a child, I sensed my dislike for sound of any kind. And I have lived in silence for my life. I sat on top of the bed, letting the soles of my feet comfort the carpet. The carpet was old and used, though 65 years ago it was fresh and new. When my wife moved into the household, she started working on renovating the house. Her laughter rang in each room, inviting the warmth of the sun inside. As I pulled the curtains open, Sin ran out of the room. She was a fast creature, though she was getting old. Her speed was slower than it used to be, but she made a fine pet to care of. My dear Delilah was such a fan of cats, we took care of Sin. Delilah named her Sin for her trouble as a youngster, but she hasn't been much trouble in some time. I vowed to care for Sin when my Delilah passed her last breath. It was a hard time, but I can hear her now. She is calling. I dressed and went to the kitchen where I found some eggs in the chicken house. I sell them five dollars a dozen, where else would I earn money? I cooked the eggs and served myself milk, making a plate for Sin of eggs and milk. She lapped up the milk and carried on to the eggs. I eat in silence, listening to the sound of people waking and preparing for the day. My son and daughter had last called me last week. My son had reported sending me a case of new books that would arrive today, and my daughter explained her life with two wonderful children that would arrive tomorrow for a visit. So I was to prepare the house due to tomorrow. My son would too come for a visit tomorrow, introducing me to my future daughter-in-law. Her name was Lucia, a girl with soft dark brown hair and hazel eyes was the description my son had given me. I hope she is wise and kind too. I cleaned the dishes and asked Sin to help clean the household. Although she only licks herself and rests, she follows me around to keep company. I cleaned the kitchen, erasing any signs of spills that have happened recently. As I grew older I noticed myself weakening and causing small incidents. I grew costumed to the sound of breaking and mess, though I would have liked it to be quiet. I finished cleaning the kitchen and made my way to the living room. I vacuumed and took anything dangerous out of reach for my two grandchildren to be safe. When my grandchildren had been born, my daughter had said she would be blessed if I would name one, for the other would be named by the mother of my son-in-law. She named the young boy Heinrey and I named the girl Navier. I cherished them and showered them with gifts that my daughter banned visiting once a week. Now I see them once every two weeks, but I make the most of it. I had been saving money for my will. I had been saving up since I was young, some used for my learning and personal needs, but I haven't touched it since I married. Fifty-five thousand dollars I have in total, eighteen thousand dollars to Heinrey, eighteen thousand dollars to Navier, and eighteen thousand dollars to my future grandchild of my son. As I finished cleaning the house, I prepared myself to go outside. I got out a summer-style sweater that my daughter had made for me. It was gray, a color that reminded me of silence. I brought my wallet and put a leash on Sin, a light pink leather color that my wife had chosen. The children living on the street find it fascinating and weird to see me walk Sin. I myself found it hilarious when my wife brought up the topic to walk a cat. I went outside and headed into a kid's store. I bought a giant white stuffed tiger, with cobalt blue eyes for Heinrey, for he was interested in wildlife. For Navier, I found a couple canvases, paint, and a sketchbook since she enjoyed painting and drawing. I also went to the grocery store where a kind worker helped me carry my bags. When she saw Sin, she stifled a laugh and explained she has never seen a cat being walked. As the sun began to set, I walked back home, containing the gifts in my closet, and set the food in the fridge, for I was going to prepare pancakes and milkshakes for my children. I came upstairs to the art room, where my Delilah used to paint. Perhaps that is where Navier got her talent. I sat on the desk I had set up to work while I watched her. Here I am sitting as I write this down. I cannot wait as my children will come tomorrow morning. "

The writing was old and wrinkly, but my father was a kind man. "Mommy, where is grandpa?" Navier asked. My brother cried quietly with the comfort of Lucia. Tears welled in my eyes, as I read my father's last writing. Navier and Heinrey sat still, quiet as they knew their grandpa likes the silence. And he had gone with it.