The night the Rhymer went whack

2

No furniture occupied the living room, just a few toys, a plush carpet, no curtains and painted all white. The only window sat mid wall and was larger than normal.

It faced the world, the rotted out, tall buildings, the arson causing smoke in the distance, the congested traffic, honks, screams, thunder and most importantly, the truth, and at the foot of that window Nick sat; his favorite place to be. Not staring out, but listening in. For hours he’d sit, first with his right ear facing it, then the left. Noiseless, except for an occasional whimper when he became hungry.

His mom, like Straffe, had initially soundproofed her apartment. She too hated the noises she heard throughout the day and night, so couple of months into her pregnancy, she decided she needed peace and quiet. Sound didn’t just annoy her, it scared her. Scared her as she worried for her unborn. Worried that that noise, more specifically the source of it, would do harm to her child. What kind of person would bring a child into this world? This world, she constantly questioned, but in her mind, she had to. With her partner, Nick’s father, the prodigy, gone, she needed a new love and a reminder of his brilliant soul.

Now, twenty four months later, Nick sat and still has yet to utter a word. He grunts and mimics and laughs and cries, knowing only his mother as she has sheltered her baby from the world. Her direct intentions, and it worked perfectly until one day, while cooking, she burned some eggs. In haste to let the smoke out, she opened the window, neglecting the sound barrier, and introduced Nick to a sense that has since commanded his life.

As the sounds entered, Nick let out a scream, startling his mom, and she rushed to give him comfort. She had realized her mistake the instant she cracked open the window, but Nick’s reaction was quicker, more raw and demanding. She reached for his outstretched arms, ready to console him, but Nick kept reaching, kept stretching and extending toward the noise. He wiggled, trying to escape her embrace, scratching and clawing his way to the discovery of his destiny. Toward the window of the world where he now sits for hours, day after day, steadfast and unmovable.