PIERCING
THROUGH
THE SILENCE
by
James Sandepp
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events and incidents are either products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Text copyright (c) 2019 by James Sandepp
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the author.
The cover art is by Marie Jane Works (mariejaneworks.com).
Table of Contents
ONE
TWO
THREE
FOUR
FIVE
SIX
SEVEN
EIGHT
NINE
TEN
ELEVEN
TWELVE
THIRTEEN
FOURTEEN
FIFTEEN
SIXTEEN
SEVENTEEN
EIGHTEEN
NINETEEN
TWENTY
TWENTY-ONE
TWENTY-TWO
TWENTY-THREE
TWENTY-FOUR
TWENTY-FIVE
TWENTY-SIX
TWENTY-SEVEN
TWENTY-EIGHT
TWENTY-NINE
THIRTY
THIRTY-ONE
THIRTY-TWO
THIRTY-THREE
THIRTY-FOUR
THIRTY-FIVE
THIRTY-SIX
THIRTY-SEVEN
THIRTY-EIGHT
THIRTY-NINE
FORTY
FORTY-ONE
FORTY-TWO
FORTY-THREE
FORTY-FOUR
ONE
My eyes fluttered open to the sunlight invading into my small bedroom making me feel slightly unsettled and nervous when I knew I shouldn’t be, yet again it was probably just butterflies in the stomach. I knew it was only my imagination trying to shift my attention away from the day but today was going to be a good day because it was my birthday.
Rising from my bed I was filled with anticipation wondering if the envelope was going to be where it always was and, as expected, it was exactly at the same spot near the door. Felix, my guardian and the only father and family I had ever known, had been able to master the art of sliding the envelope under the door. It always appeared as if the envelope had a mind of its own and knew when and where exactly to stop on my bedroom floor.
Although my room was small, I jumped off my bed to pick it up but in my haste scraped my knee on the wood and winced in pain. There really was no need to rush it, although today was not just another birthday.
I returned to my bed, stared at the white envelope and noticed the front side has the words ‘Marinette’ in an elegant, cursive font. Flipping over the envelope the words “Silence is the Order” scrawled in print at the bottom jumped out at me. The phrase had become like the “whatever” of my generation and my classmates always used it so casually when they wanted any conversation to end abruptly. It seemed funny now that I think about it, but the phrase had a much more significant meaning behind it. It was the anthem of the Magistrate which was in control of the town I lived in and the Magistrate took its cue from the Council of the larger city this town was a part of.
I still recall the day Felix taught me about the phrase as he said it needs to be respected and stated all of society was built on the foundation of the phrase. It must have been my eighth birthday or so when he pointed out the phrase on the back of the envelope. To me, whenever the envelope made its yearly appearance, I really didn’t care much about the envelope itself, but only about the contents.
The envelopes for our birthdays were prepared by the Council who sent them to each of us through the Magistrate and every child would get an envelope until they reached the age of completion. This was as much as I had been told and once in a while someone in my class yelled out that they had found the location in town where the envelopes were sent through, but it usually ended up being someone’s wishful thinking. The Magistrate was very good at hiding the location of the birthday cards.
I stared at the phrase for a few more seconds before slowly opening the envelope and pulling out the card first. This year the card was gold in color which was important because it was usually never gold in color except for special occasions. I was not surprised because I had heard about such cards from my classmates and my hands were shaking as they felt the texture of the gold card from edge to edge. It was an unusual feeling for me as I read the glittering bold words on the card:
“Happy 16th Birthday Marinette! May this year be one of special silent significance!”
I took out the gift certificates, which too are of a different kind this year as these are specially issued only by the Council and could be used at any business or shop throughout the region. I knew such certificates were only issued for those birthdays of significance and, fortunately, for me, sixteen, was my first chance at getting my hands on such certificates. Holding them, a tinge of happiness washed over me, and it felt like a coming of age, rite of passage for me. Every one of my classmates waited in anticipation for their turn and the classroom was always filled with gossip about who was in line to get them next. I could not wait to use these gifts as I had made a secret list of things I always wanted to buy and started the list two years ago in preparation for this day. I was elated now I had the chance to check those items off.
Most of my classmates had the privilege of having two parents and while these certificates were mere tokens for most of them, this was a big deal for me. Growing up alone I did not have the opportunities most of my classmates took for granted although my situation was neither Felix’s fault nor a sign we were dirt poor. We have always had about enough to live within our means and I never despised it since I knew my guardian did his best and sacrificed a lot for me. His wife passed away due to some illness nearly 20 years ago after which I had come into his life through adoption and I was very grateful for Felix choosing to take care of me. I had no memories of my birth parents although I had tried on multiple occasions to ask Felix about it before but all he said he knew was they had died in an accident right after I was born.
Two knocks on the door, which was Felix’s classic way of reminding me to get ready because breakfast and school weren’t going to wait for me too long, interrupted my thoughts. I placed the card and certificates back in the envelope, put it in a box on my desk as my phone lighted up and I grabbed it and read the message realizing it could be the only other person who even knew of my birthday and, it was, which made my heart full. I wondered if he would be in school today but, knowing his priorities, I doubted it.
I walked into the kitchen and found Felix sitting at the table reading the Council newspaper. Felix is old-school and even with the abundance of technology around him, he liked the touch and smell of the newspaper and, by habit, it had become his morning companion sharing space with some freshly cooked food. Felix stopped reading for a second, looked up, stared at me and his face broke into a smile.
“Happy Birthday Marinette! I hope the envelope and its contents were all you expected,” Felix signed.
I smiled. “It really was.”
“So with school ending soon, did you plan out your holidays? Are you going to work somewhere or hang around here again with me?” Felix motioned.
This was Felix’s way of nudging me along in something I haven’t done yet but it never seemed to work.
“Hmmmmm….. I haven’t decided yet,” I s
igned with a smirk on my face.
And this really was the truth since with only three weeks of school left my lack of planning had caught up with me again. While everyone else was already planning their holiday trips and part-time work opportunities I was still stuck at the thinking stage. I sometimes was too lazy to think ahead and it was a weakness in my nature which had grown deep roots in my mind and I seriously needed to break away from it.
“You better get off your lazy behind and think fast my dear,” Felix gestured.
“Okay,” I signaled heading out the house.
The road we lived on had some fifty identical houses in either direction as far as my eyes could see as it was one of those housing development areas where every home had its white picket fence, mini front yard and twin backyard. This housing development area was neither new nor old and the town of Thomson, which was my town, had many such housing development areas.
Standing outside, people and cars were busy heading out to begin another day and, yet, it was strange to be in a world where you could hear everything, like the birds chirping and the cars honking and you could not make any sound of your own. This was the life I and everyone else knew of and had grown accustomed to as I started walking towards my bus stop.
TWO
The bus ride home was quiet and sitting in the last row, I was lost in my thoughts, recalling my day at school. School was another boring day and since no one really knew it was my birthday, my expectations were low from the beginning except for the surprise from my favorite teacher, Mrs Wills. I opened my backpack, looked again at the simple gift she passed to me at the end of the lesson and the thought behind it warmed my heart deeply. Mrs Wills was the closest thing to a mother I would ever have and she always indulged and cared for me quietly without showing any favoritism in the class. I was thankful for her and would certainly miss her when I graduated and left high school. She was probably the only adult I would miss from this school but I did hope to go back, see her when I grow older and update her on my life.
I glanced outside at the roads as my bus meandered through Thomson’s ever growing traffic madness. I was still fifteen minutes away from home when the bus came to a screeching halt and looking up at the bus monitors, I noticed the screens displayed the words “traffic jam”. The conductor started motioning for all of us to get out now and by the sweat dripping from his face I realized he was not accustomed to facing traffic jams and could also be even new to this route. In fact I didn’t remember his face from my recent his bus trips but, then again, horrible as it sounds, people rarely noticed those serving them.
As the bus was quite full it took a couple of minutes and people shuffling around with their bags and backpacks before I got my turn to get off the bus. Everyone was looking forward with some of them pointing their hands in the direction of the jam. The traffic jam ahead looked big and while I could not see the cause of the jam or where it ended, I noticed vehicles lined up like ants waiting to march and impatient drivers motioning with their hands in the air. A few of them were intensely honking in their cars which was the only way left for them to express their frustration in their silent capacity.
I decided to take a shortcut, made my way through the sea of people watchers and headed on in the direction of home. I sent a phone message to Felix letting him know I would be late because I didn’t want him to worry. Traffic jams of this kind were unusual here in Thomson but, lately, things had been changing.
As I turned a corner onto a side road I heard a loud boom and it was unlike anything I had ever heard before. A shudder went down my spine as I sprinted forward to see what was happening and my heart was still overcoming the initial aftereffects of the sound when I reached the location from where the boom seemed to have emerged from. A blue car had overturned, there were flames inside of it and the flames distracted me for a few seconds as I had never been so close to a real fire before and nothing this dramatic ever happened in Thomson.
As I was mesmerized by the flames dancing on top of the car my gaze shifted to a figure in the midst of the car and I realized it was a woman. Oh my goodness! She looked probably in her mid-thirties and was waving frantically to get someone’s attention. In a split-second our eyes locked together, and I noticed her lips were moving rapidly repeating the same thing over and over. “STOP THE PROCESS! STOP THE PROCESS! STOP THE PROCESS!”
The words she was mumbling to herself made no sense to me and I wondered if she was just hysterical because of the encroaching flames. While her eyes remained locked onto me I looked around to find if anyone could help her. Where was everybody? Didn’t they hear the explosion too or was the traffic jam more important than this? I looked around again and, in the distance, two men were walking down another side road and I started waving and motioning them to come here quickly but neither of them responded with any sense of urgency. It could also be that they most likely didn’t know someone was trapped in the explosion.
As I returned my focus to the woman, another smaller explosion rocked the car and the flames were now brighter and stronger. Why couldn’t the woman get out? Why was she waiting there? Was there someone else with her there? I noticed her doing something to one of her legs and then realized one of her legs was stuck in the twisted wreckage. The two men were still walking slowly in my direction. Why aren’t they running? Couldn’t they see the flames and the trapped woman? One of them was using his phone and I hoped he was calling for help.
I locked eyes with her again, her lips continued to repeat those three nonsensical words and despite my attempt to drag my feet forward they were too stubborn and stopped after a few meters. What was stopping me from going forward? My heart wanted to rush into the fire and save the woman but my mind refused to listen. As I battled with my thoughts, some of them whispered to me “don’t go”, “you are not that kind of person”, “it is dangerous”, “you would die in there with the woman”, “someone else would save her” and “you don’t have to be the one taking the risk.”
There was a couple of women across on the other side of the burning car and they were pointing at the car but, like the men, they weren’t moving to help the woman. She was going to die if no one helped her. What was wrong with people these days? They hadn’t seen me yet because the flames, being too high, formed a barrier between me and them.
As the flames began to reach the woman’s leg which was still stuck, I again mustered all my effort to go forward but was unable to. I was only a teenage girl but it seemed like I was the only one who wanted to help the woman.
The woman’s lip movements had reached a crescendo, fear has set in her eyes and one of her hands was on her stomach. It dawned on me she could be pregnant and even with all this information my feet remained planted on the ground. What was wrong with me? Why was I such a coward and so weak? Felix would be so disappointed in me, Mrs Wills would be ashamed of me and, as I tried again mustering all of my strength, I simply fell forward on my knees.
A final loud explosion rocked the car, flames engulfed the entire car and the woman, and a loud desperate sound pierced the air around me.
THREE
As quick as the sound entered the airspace it was gone and although it probably lasted only for a few seconds it felt like an invasion from another dimension and sent shivers down my whole body as I noticed my hands were trembling.
I didn’t know how but I got to my feet immediately because I knew the sound was a game-changer and could feel it in the air. It felt like there was some electric presence all around me as if the air was now charged by this invasion and I was not sure, but I sensed there was some sort of power behind the sound like a magnetic field. I realized everyone’s attention was shifting to the area where the sound had emerged from. The two men were now finally running, the women on the other side had stopped pointing at the fire and were walking over too because they all wanted to find out about the source of the sound. I realized where I was at now was quite dangerous because there was no one else here.
This
was so ridiculously ironic since a few minutes ago none of these people had the common decency to help a desperate woman caught in the fire and about to die. Instead, they chose to remain ignorant or mere spectators to the fireworks show but now, with the sound, they were motivated to satisfy their curiosity. I could not believe this was the society I was a part of where a sound was of more value than a human being but, again, this was the reality of life here on this planet.
Like a robot I shuffled backwards and walked away noticing there was nothing much left of the car except for charred ruins. I could hear some sirens in the distance meaning someone had called the emergency services and I tried not to break into a run because it would only bring all sorts of unwanted attention to me. I tried my best to avoid looking in either direction of the approaching men and women as my pace increased until I no longer could smell the burning in the air. When I was no longer in the line of sight of the fire I caught my breath and paused wondering whether anyone had seen me or if they would be able to recognize me if they saw me again. I could not recognize them if my life depended on it and this thought calmed me down a bit. At most they would know it was a girl if their eyesight was really good and I was glad the horrible fire did do one thing right by giving me the necessary cover to leave the scene.
My mind caught up with my feet. What was the sound? Where did it come from and what or who made it? It did not sound like anything I had ever heard of before and, yet, I knew the answer to some of these questions. Although it made no sense at all the truth was I made the sound.
Piercing Through the Silence Page 1