Thank You For The Window

“I love the night, the night sky. It soothes the pain in my heart and the consternation in my mind.”

Joe, a, mild mannered, ordinary looking man of average height and build was in anguish. He was imprisoned in a small cell; it was smaller than the bathroom in his small flat. 

There was a window with bars above his head. He couldn’t see out to anything below. But he could see up to the stars and the moon. So he gazed upon the night sky and prayed. He marvelled at the magnificence of the Milky Way peeking down at him, with light streaming through the small window allowing only a shaft to illuminate a portion of the floor, and its deflection to beam upon his face. 

He thanked God for the window, and the night sky. 

How long he would remain incarcerated in the cell, he had no idea. They had dragged him from his one room flat at three one misty morning. They interrogated him for two hours. He knew nothing. He lost consciousness. When he woke up he saw only grey walls etched with graffiti, a grey ceiling, grey, cold floor and a window. 

The heavy iron door was locked. A hatch opened in the middle for victuals to be passed through. Porridge and weak, sweet tea in the morning. Thin soup, a slice of bread and weak, sweet tea at midday, and a portion of chicken or meat bones, with potatoes and carrots at night. It was what might have been mistaken for food. 

Joe ate his evening meal at sunset, rinsed his plate and mug under cold water at the chipped and cracked wash basin, and settled back on his bunk to gaze up through the window at the starry sky. 

He knew a bit about astronomy and was excited to recognize a constellation. 

As he scanned the squared area visible through the window, his thoughts wondered. Why was he in prison? What exactly was the charge against him? What was going to happen to him? 

Several weeks, maybe months had passed. He was losing track of time. Despair welled up. He trembled with anxiety until the moon winked at him and caught his eye. How bright it was tonight! He longed to be outside. He felt claustrophobic.

Was that a shooting star? The sight calmed him and he relaxed. That group of stars looked familiar, and turning his head to observe it from different angles he prompted his brain to remember. 

“Looks like Leo”, he murmured as he counted the stars in the constellation, and curled his hands into a

telescope”. 

“That’s Meg’s voice.”

In his mind he heard her say: “What’s that one called Joe? The one up there over to the left. Do you see it?” 

He glanced at her pretty face, eyes wide with attention, head back as she pointed skyward and bobbed excitedly. He fell in love with her at that moment. It was a beautiful night in May, a long time ago. 

“That’s Leo, the lion. Do you see those stars forming a shape, right there?” He drew his finger against the dark sky, “that’s his head, and there, under his head, that’s his body you see…”

No, she did not see and did not mind.

Her eyes were full of stars and she saw only her hero. She fell in love with her Joe at that moment. 

With a smile on his lips, he fell peacefully asleep. 

The door clanged open, they marched him to the interrogation Room. He was blinded by the spotlights. 

“We will keep you here until you confess. Tell us the truth and sign your confession, and you will be free to go.” The Officer beat his fist on the desk. 

The more Joe pleaded he had no idea what they were talking about, the angrier they got. 

The Officer struck the desk again. “You’ve got 24 hours and then we will take stronger measures to make you talk.“

He had nothing to eat or drink that night. 

The window let the moonlight sneak in. Joe turned on to his back and stared at it. It was big and round and glorious, up above the world so high. Like a diamond in the sky. He recited something aloud… 

“Wait, no! That’s wrong. It’s twinkle, twinkle little star… up above the world so high, like a diamond in the sky… wasn’t it? “

He couldn’t remember. It seemed so long ago. He was five or six years old; first year at school maybe. Teacher taught the class the recitation. His first introduction to rhyme. 

He did well at school, went to college and graduated with a distinction in mechanical engineering. 

Joe blinked at the brilliance of the moon. He turned on to his side, face toward the wall. Biting his lower lip helped him to suppress his sobs. What was happening to him? Why was he being held and interrogated? He knew nothing of importance that could be of use to the police.

He prayed, looked over his shoulder through the square on the wall, at the vast expanse of indigo scattered with luminous heavenly bodies and drifted off to sleep. 

His twenty four hours of grace were up. They slammed him into a chair opposite the interrogating Officer. Joe gulped, chin on his chest. He was afraid, but determined not to show it. 

“Did you sleep well? Would you like coffee?” The interrogator nodded to one of his men. The man returned with hot coffee, the aroma of which enticed Joe to lurch forward eagerly and grasp the mug. He sipped the coffee, watching the Officer apprehensively over the rim of the mug.

They watched him in silence while he finished his stimulating drink. He slowly placed the empty mug on the table, watching the Officer’s face. Picking up the pen next to the writing pad placed in front of him, afraid that his shaking hand would give him away, he tried to write. 

“Take your time. Relax. You will be out of here in a few hours”, the Officer smiled slyly at him. 

Joe scrawled, paused, pondered, wrote a few more lines, paused, prayed silently, read what he’d written, signed it and got up to leave. 

One of the men pushed him back. Slamming the pad angrily on to the desk, the Officer glared at Joe. 

“This is not a confession! It is a refusal to say anything at all. You are obstructing justice. Take him away! “

Joe got up from the cold, concrete cell floor and went over toward the window. He looked up at the grey sky and begged for help. 

“Father in heaven, please hear my prayer. What have I done to be treated like this? Please take this away from me! Let the truth be known that I am innocent. I beg you Father, please help me! “

No food and drink. His blanket and pillow were removed from him. Joe lay on the bare mattress, curled up, shivering, trying to warm up. 

Lying on his back, his eyes widened. The light shining through the window was blinding. He squinted at it and thought he saw the form of a man, and he thought he heard the sound of wings flapping. He thought he was losing his mind. He felt warm and comfortable and at peace.

Meg’s precious face appeared fleetingly before him. She smiled the beautiful smile he cherished. She had been so brave. She died giving birth to their only child. Their little girl died a few days later. 

Sleep swept him away from heartache. He dreamed of Meg that night. They were picnicking in a golden field on a sunny spring day. She teased him and ran away. He ran after her, caught her skirt and they tumbled down together, laughing happily. He picked a blossom in the meadow and fixed it behind her ear. She stroked his cheek tenderly with the back of her hand. He took her’s in his and kissed it warmly while gazing into her deep blue eyes. 

Why did the night sky remind him so vividly of his darling Meg? “Must be its magnificence”, he mused. 

The clanging of the door woke him up once again. He was marched along the long, dreary passage to the Room. He could find his way to it in his sleep, he thought wryly. 

Something was different today. No blinding lights.

A pot of hot coffee, two mugs and a plate of donuts waited  on the desk. No writing pad and no pen. Curious. 

“They’re trying to entice me, trap me again”, 

Joe thought to himself as he sat cautiously, filled with suspicion. 

A uniformed man entered and sat opposite him at the desk. It was a different Officer. He smiled at Joe and told him to go ahead with coffee and a donut. 

Joe shrank back hesitantly. 

“Please, help yourself. Feel comfortable. We are going to talk about your situation reasonably and fairly. There has been a dreadful mistake. Let me explain… “

A mechanical engineer fitting Joe’s description had been accused of stealing valuable blueprints for a super powered racing car. 

He sold them to an Italian company for a large sum of money. Before the owner could confront the engineer he had disappeared. 

An important international road race was coming up with the highest stakes ever. The super car was set to win, awarding the owner a sizeable fortune. The original owner of the blueprints reported everything to the police. Scotland Yard was alerted and included in bringing the thief to justice. 

They uncovered the involvement of Joe’s prior investigating Officer in the affair. He was in collaboration with the thief who happened to be a relative of his. He cunningly derived a plan to arrest someone with the same qualifications, and resembling the thief. He would wear him down in jail and coerce him into signing a confession, thereby giving his cousin time to assume a new identity and skip the country. 

It happened to be poor, slow Joe who fitted the part perfectly. 

A few nights earlier, before the present Officer took over, Scotland Yard had apprehended the thief. He signed his confession and was confined to prison awaiting trial. They needed Joe to testify against the corrupt police Officer who, with three accomplices, illegally held Joe in an abandoned prison in a remote part of the country. 

Joe accepted and agreed to assist with the proceedings. 

He breathed deeply with satisfaction as he stood proudly on the High Court steps. Sentence had been passed and Justice had been served. 

Reporters crowded him, eager to record his comments. 

One of them threw a question at him:

“Hey Joe, describe please for the viewers, what kept you going for those months in that horrible little cell? “

Joe didn’t hesitate, “It was the one and only window above me in one wall of the cell. I could see nothing but the sky through it. I gazed at the moon and the stars each night. I recognized a few constellations. My dear wife Meg and I used to talk about them when we were young. 

Each night when I looked up to the heavens I thought about those times with my beloved wife. It calmed me and gave me hope. I prayed to our Father, confident that he would hear me and help me as my words floated up to him through the window. 

One night the moon and stars were so bright I couldn’t see because they blinded me. I thought I heard wings flapping at the window. There was no sign of a large bird. I pretended it was an angel. Why not? I didn’t believe in that sort of thing before. But I do now. Where would I be this day if it had not been for the window and the night sky? What I saw made me think about God. So I spoke to him. I believe he listened and answered me. He watched me through that window. “

There was a hush… Then the crowd started clapping. 

Joe looked up at the sky and said softly, “Thank you Father for the window. “