They stopped for a while and looked silently into the shadowy distance. The leaves of the tree above them were swishing gently thus creating the garde to the rippling of small brooklet aloof.
- The silence is healing.- he said suddendly still following that uncertain point far away. She remained silent again aware of his words, but unsure if they are true. Her arms embraced her shoulders and she responded quietly: - The silence is destroying me.- another tear-drop that shouldn´t come, but came, escaped from her hazel-brown eyes and was falling down her pale cheeks. Richard looked at her, while she was still hypnotised by that unexsisting piece of past. She was completly contrite like the past 14 months. Dressed in the black, pale and lifeless. Seeing her like this just few centimeters before him and being unable to replace her arms in embracement, comfort her, was breaking his heart into small pieces. She was everything for him and he knew, that if something wouldn´t change, he will loose her forever. The pain filled his heart as well and was multiplied every other day because she was slowly giving up. He sighed helplessly, but she seemed not to pay any attention to it. And indeed, she knew he was beside her, looking at her sadly and that kept her alive. Only with him in the nearness she felt understood. He wasn´t trying to seal off that ache inside her but endured it with her silently. That silence again. She hated it. When she was in her house, it reminded her painfully only of the loneliness she felt and his death. In the moment she entered a room with vivid discussion everybody looked at her and silence came again. Silence. She could bear it only with him, in his house. He understood her without explanations, without words or long sentences. But still, that silenece tortured her every single day, every single night and took her the will to live. She closed her eyes for a moment, because she was unable to look at the world with eyes full of tears anymore. They were slowly running down her face and drifted by the wind that moved the leaves above.
- I have been asking myself several times what the silence means for me.- he initiated seconds later whispering so only she could hear him. – Have you ever tried it as well Isobel?- he asked but she only shook her head. She was listening and therefore he continued.
- Firstly I thought that the silence is conected with the absolute vacuum. With the place where we cannot hear any sound, noise or tone of the surrounding, with the condition when everything abates and we can only hear our thoughts. This would be logical explanation, not only from the point of view of a physician. But now, I know that this isn´t the right definition of silence. No. The silence isn´t only complete absence of sounds, but the condition of our mind and soul as well. It represent the feeling, when you get out of you everything that haunts you, destroys you, afflicts you and tyranises you. The condition when you hear only your heart. The condition when you carefully listen waiting for another heartbeat. The time stops then for a moment and you are freed from the world outside, from the chains of torture. Only then the silence heals.- he silenced himself once more and set his eyes on her. Her eyes were stil closed, her cheeks were covered with the wet paths of tears. She was trying to detain them, but he knew that was impossible. After short pause, he continued again.
- I questioned myself many times how can be such silence found and now I know that you cannot aloof yourself from the world completely and you can´t be reticent as well. No. It is hard, I experienced it myself. And I only know that for reaching that healing silnece, you must get that effervescence and voices of your mind and unconscious out of your head. Expel them, chase them away and liberate yourself. It´s not needful to be quiet. It´s not needful to remain silent. No. On the contrary. Sometimes it is necessary to shout till your lungs give up, to stop restraining that anger at the whole world. It is important to stop blaming everybody and yourself and avoiding the tears from running down the cheeks. Trying to do it is important. Of course,- he sighed with pain in his voice, - such process is very painfull. All the ache will reach the surface in its mightiness and will tear your heart again, but it must be done. It will help. It can help. It must.- the last words were said more quiet than the others. She turned around slowly, facing him again and opened her eyes. The light reflecting in her tears made her look even more gloomily.
- The silenece is destroying me.- she repeated again desponded.
- I don´t want anything to destroy you, Isobel!-
- Richard.- she said sadly, that she was hurting him as well, - I am worried, that there is nothing that would help me.- after that she turned away from him and continued in walking , leaving him behind, standing in silence. He was frightened after what he heard and saw. Her eyes, before full of fire and sparkling, were now empty, hopeless. They were screaming her sorrow. He remained like that for a while and then hurried to reach her as soon as possible. They were walking silently until they stood before her front door facing each other.
- Thank you Richard.- she said trying to smile a little. Nothing more was needed, that was enough. He understood what she wanted to say and she knew he would understand. He nodded and asked her:
- Please, promise me we will see each other tomorrow again.- he was afraid that she would do something stupid after all she had said that day. She nodded as well and touched his hand for a moment. – Good night.- she quit then. Richard wished her the same with little relief and hope, that the next day will be better.
The phone in his hall was chiming without mercy . That sound spread itself through the entire house reaching his bedroom, his bed, his ears . The ringing pulled him out of sleep that wasn´t peaceful and sufficient for long time. He uncovered himself and turned around to light up the lamp on his bedside table. He left the bed grabbing the morning gown and hurried up. He didn´t like such night calls but mostly, in fact always, they were urgent just like the cases, to which he was called by this way. He picked up the phone and without telling something, he petrified.
- I cannot bear it anymore! I cannot handle it!- she said tearfully and desperately. – The silence is ruining me, Richard! I cannot bear it!- she sobbed. He was terified and tried to interrupt her.
- Isobel, please,- only the worst ideas were crossing his mind, but she hanged up. – Isobel! Isobel!- he exclaimed anxiously . – Isobel, please!- he tried again but he heard no answer. He hanged up fastly and without returning back to his bedroom and dressing himself into more suitable clothes or turning off the lamp, he slipped into his coat. He grabbed his medical bag still thinking about the worst possibilities and left the house on his bicycle. He prayed to God the entire track to her house so nothing of the things he was worried about, happened in reality. Terrified he hurried like he was racing of life. Senseless, not paying his attention to anything around him, worried, panicked...and then after several minutes lasting the entire eternity, he reached her house. No lights were lit, curtains covered the windows and the front door was locked. He tried to open it by force, but nothing helped. He tried to knock, tossing, ring, but no answer was coming from the other side. He sweared, but forced himself to think clearly. He went around the house, broke open the lock of wooden gate and reached the back door. Locked again. – Think!- he shouted at himself and looked around. –Where would they keep reserve key?- he kneeled and started to look into the pots with herbs and flowers, lifting them one after another. He finally found the key and unlocked the door rushing through the kitchen into the corridor where he found the reciever hanging from the table. She wasn´t there as well as she wasn´t in the sitting room that he scaned next. He returned back to the corridor and hurried upstairs. Every second was precious. Every second meant the difference between life and death. Another small hall was behind him. Another room upstairs was empty and then he finally reached the right one. Her room was almost dark. The bed was empty, but he heard silent sobbing from the window. He turned his steps that way and saw her finally. He eased up. He was relieved. She was alive. Bending over broken teacup, covered in satin gown with hair bound into loose braid. Little candle with small flame was standing on the floor before her. She was sobbing trying to catch her breath. Her face was wet from tears and her right palm was hurt by the broken porcelain. He left his bag fall down and kneeled beside her collecting all the little pieces that he placed on the table in front of him from which the teacup felt. Then he looked at her again and embraced her. He took her into his arms. At first she wasn´t aware of presence of another person than herself. Only then, when he hugged her, when his arms embraced her body and his palms rested on her back. She burried her face into his neck ,placed her fists on his chest and started to cry more and louder. Richard held her strongly not trying to silence or stop her. He knew that she needed to cry, to scream, to get it all out of her. He kept her just safe undergoing a small hell, that he couldn´t take all the pain from her shoulders and carry it instead of her. Her cry intesified. He was embracing her stronger. Silently. Painfully. Hopefully. She was alive and that was all that mattered. After long time she straightened her fists, the anger she felt toward the world and herself that she survived and not her son, was slowly leaving her. She moved her hands slightly placing them on his shoulders and embraced him finally around the neck. He snuggled her even closer feeling her fast heartbeat, feeling the warmth escaping from her breast which excited him and calmed at the same time. His heartbeat was calm ,strong just like Richard which helped her to calm down as well. They remained like this for another moments, the cries stopped at last. Her heartbeat slowed down. She was silent, laying in his arms, inahling his aftershave fragrance. And then she finally felt it. The silence. That silence, he was speaking about. She was exhausted by the sadness, long crying, furiosity as well as her mind that was empty at last. Without thoughts. Without voices and sounds. Without fear and hate toward herself. She heard only the sound of her heartbeat, the sound of his heartbeat, even though she wasn´t in the condition to realize he was really there. She was listening carefully, waiting for another beat trying to picture the flow of blood through its chambers. She realized that this meant that the life is still in her. The life she cannot live with the pain, which she hated almost like the life that remained her after the death of her son. Hear heart was beating strongly. So wondefully and calmly that she wasn´t able to stop listening it. To hate it. She smiled and Richard felt the movement of her lips on his skin. Isobel felt the piece first time after long months and closed her eyes without fear. She felt asleep minutes later. Her body weakened. Richard sighed with relief and brought her to her bed laying her gently on the pillows. He covered her and briskly cleaned the wound. He covered it with bandage and kissed her gently on the forehead. She looked so calm and peaceful. Richard left soon after, locked her house , placed the key under the pot again and went home. Calmly. Slowly. Peacefully.