le Misérable
by Fred Osuna
I read the last line and close the book with a smack. “That ends that section,” I tell him. “Coming up is the chapter titled ‘The Ancient History of the Sewers of Paris.' We'll read that tomorrow.”
He doesn't reply. I know he's not asleep. I set the book under the nightstand where I'll find it the next day. I grab the remote and turn the television on. I find “Jeopardy” and turn up the volume. He stares straight ahead at the screen.
I make a few phone calls from the chair beside his bed. It's hard to hear - Alex is talking loudly - so I compete. The old man doesn't seem to notice. I change the channel. It's an old Bogart flick. He watches it, no flinching, no emotion.
When the movie ends, I rifle through the CDs. There's a Mahler 2nd, the cover a beautiful art deco mosaic. I slip it in the boombox on the bureau, turn it up high so I can hear the soft parts clearly. Is he listening?
The back door opens — it's Marti, back from grocery shopping. I shout a Hello, go help her unload the bags. We chat over the music, which is booming down the hallway from the bedroom.
Finished, I go to his room. I tell him I'm going. “See you at noon,” I yell in his ear, so he'll hear me. He stares forward. I leave.
The old man closes his eyes and thinks of smiling. In silence.
He doesn't reply. I know he's not asleep. I set the book under the nightstand where I'll find it the next day. I grab the remote and turn the television on. I find “Jeopardy” and turn up the volume. He stares straight ahead at the screen.
I make a few phone calls from the chair beside his bed. It's hard to hear - Alex is talking loudly - so I compete. The old man doesn't seem to notice. I change the channel. It's an old Bogart flick. He watches it, no flinching, no emotion.
When the movie ends, I rifle through the CDs. There's a Mahler 2nd, the cover a beautiful art deco mosaic. I slip it in the boombox on the bureau, turn it up high so I can hear the soft parts clearly. Is he listening?
The back door opens — it's Marti, back from grocery shopping. I shout a Hello, go help her unload the bags. We chat over the music, which is booming down the hallway from the bedroom.
Finished, I go to his room. I tell him I'm going. “See you at noon,” I yell in his ear, so he'll hear me. He stares forward. I leave.
The old man closes his eyes and thinks of smiling. In silence.
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Author's Note
"le Misérable" was written for Week 32 of the 52/250 challenge, for which the theme was "silence." It was published on the 52/250 site: http://tinyurl.com/42spk6x. The fourth and fifth sections of the story are rooted in a real situation in which I used to deliver classical CDs to an elderly customer who was bedridden much of the time. His housekeeper (Marti was not her real name) was eventually found to have been stealing from him in amounts exceeding 15k. Also, Mahler can not be properly heard at a low volume.
Other stories by Fred Osuna
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Really nice scene here, Fred, that tells several stories of the characters themselves. And a perfect ending, "thinks of smiling. In silence."
i agree with Susan, very nice Fred. Good writing and observation throughout.
Big yes for me. Good writing, Fred. And, a perfect closing:
"Finished, I go to his room. I tell him I'm going. 'See you at noon,' I yell in his ear, so he'll hear me. He stares forward. I leave.
The old man closes his eyes and thinks of smiling. In silence."
Yes.
This is a powerful story. I like it
More to that old man than meets the narrator's eye, isn't there? Like.
This is a wonderful small scene with a big story. Love the ending. *
Thanks for the kind comments, all of you.
And thanks also for the props regarding the ending: Susan, Sam and Jane. I hesitated with that particular ending because of the shift in voice from the "noisy" narrator. I'm glad you think it works.
I agree that the ending works. It's a wonderful shift; makes me want to begin again.