Photo made using Canva.com
"Mr Leo, how are we feeling today?" It took him a few seconds to notice me, guess today is a slow day today. "Do you want to tell me what your painting today?" I took a look at the paint board that's coloured a deep black with a few drops of grey. Strange for someone who has been painting colorful artworks all week. We've had to throw away 12 pages of art so far.
I had half a mind to go back for lunch but I stayed, overall he did push the red buzzer I gave him at my last visit.
I regarded him as he just sat down staring at the artwork. I tried asking him the normal questions but he was totally unresponsive so I decided to go back and finish my lunch. Halfway through the door I heard what I wanted to hear for the whole 3 months of his stay; "Miss Evie? A cup of water if you may?"
I was so shocked, the fact that his first words this year, would be wasted something that the nurse gives him almost every hour. At first I didn't move out of the fear that I simply hallucinated it or I misheard. He looked at me quizzically and then asked again "Miss Evie? May I have a glass of water".
I quickly brought him the water and waited till he finished drinking. He looked at me and smiled, "I suppose you have questions."
"Of course I have questions." I replied quickly. "For one how long could you talk? ,Secondly why haven't you spoken anything for a year and 3 months?" He simply smiled like a wizened sage. He was so quiet I was scared that I did actually hallucinate the whole scenario. I wondered how the security guards would regard this? A psychiatrist conversing with a supposed mute madman. I guess I'll have my own room next to his.
Thankfully he spoke again "What do you see in this painting." I regarded the painting of black and white spots. "I asked him, what am I supposed to see?" Surprisingly he laughed, it was a nice laughter totally not what you'll expect from a 87 year old man. He then answered "Art isn't something so fickle that your meant to be told what to see. Art is an expression of life itself."
He jumped out of the bed with shocking agility. "Another question" he said " Why am I here?" He still had the remnants of his smile on him and I didn't want to spoil whatever has got him in a good mood, plus I was damn curious about what was happening, so I obliged him in his act. "You're here because you've been decided insane and mute"
"Well clearly I'm not mute but I may be slightly insane. Keeping quiet for so long does that to you sometimes."
The smile had withered and he became quiet once more. I didn't want this to stop so I looked at the picture once again. "I think I do see something...." He looked up .
I tried to say something happy but I didn't know when the word sadness came out of my mouth. I bit my tongue hoping he didn't hear me. I didn't want him any more depressed than he was, or at least looked cause I can't tell with him anymore.
"Yes I was sad when I painted it." He looked so solemn as he made to sit down on the bed. He looked at me straight in the eyes and said "You want to know why I was mute?" I nodded, not wanting to speak or break the sense of tranquility in the room. "Well then sit down young one let me tell you a tale."
He went to dim the lights, which made me wonder how much of his capabilities has he hidden from his personal records.
"I'm going to show you one of the oldest and strongest type of arts in human history. The art of storytelling" I smiled remembering the stories my mom read to me as a child. Before the memories began to manifest he began..
"There was once a man in a faraway land, in a land where the magic of the old gods where still with men. This man was a famous scholar, who was known to converse with said gods." Strangely as he talked the shadows seemed to be bending to depict the images of a man with a pen praying.
"One day as he was going about his business he met a girl selling fruits, this girl was an illiterate but was a beauty. The man tried starting up a conversation with her, but it was obvious she wouldn't be able to keep up with his intellect." Again the shadows showed images of a man talking with a girl in a shop.
" Even with the girls obvious flaw in literacy the scholar was down." He then laughed a bit and said "Some say love is blind, I say love is blind, deaf and dumb." The scholar returned day after day to her store, everyday buying an apple and conversing with her. In time the girls conversational skills became better, obviously she was a fast learner and the scholar was delighted at such traits."
"Some time later, the scholar started bringing books to her shop and she welcomed him wholeheartedly. Reading what she could as he pretentiously scanned the shelves as though he's looking for something important before picking an apple."
"At 3 months time the scholar was lost in love and didn't pray to his gods anymore. He hardly performed any of the rituals he normally did and the voices of the gods left him. The girl having become a scholar now had stopped selling fruits and travelled out if the village. She went without telling the man, he was distraught, without his woman and his gods he was just an empty husk." The shadows showed the image of a man looking left and write confused.
" With all passion gone from him he was simply exhausted, a simple husk filled with want. He went back to his gods for help, all shunned him except one. The most cunning of his gods presented him with an ultimatum. Every time period he is filled with passion he would be left with double the amount of exhaustion"
"The man not knowing what to do, stupidly accepted the god's offer. Almost immediately he was filled with passion. Passion unlike never before, he painted sang and wrote like one of the best. Unfortunately that moment of brilliance lasted for a day, the next day came with deep pit of silence and exhaustion. Then did he realize the curse that he had brought upon himself."
The shadows showed images of a man moving around and dancing then suddenly the shadow became still and solemn. The effect was shocking.
"The next period of passion the man prayed to the god for her to take back her gift and curse, for what good is passion when it is taken from you continuously."
"Did she take it away?" I asked with sorrow in my eyes for I couldn't imagine a worse fate, looking at his face I already knew the answer. He had a somewhat solemn look on his face.
He frowned and looked at his painting. "I'm exhausted" He didn't speak again...
I'm so sorry that it's so long😭😭💔
I legit had to cut some pieces out. Could this be added as my entry for the weekly prompt due to my previous story disobeyed the rules? @theinkwell