Eighty Three - BF
Virgil woke up, feeling refreshed and more than a little relieved that, temporarily at least, the tinnitus had gone away. It was unnerving for the world to be completely silent, but compared to the constant noise he'd been experiencing over the last couple of days, silence was infinitely preferable.
As he got out of bed he knocked a hardback book off his bedside table. It silently hit the floor and lay there, pages exposed. He picked it up and put it back on the table.
When he turned back to face the door he was startled to see Scott was standing there.
Sorry. Scott signed. I was in the chair. How are you feeling?
"Better now that that noise has gone away."
Brains says it'll only be temporary relief. About 24 hours.
Virgil made a face. "I know."
V. Did you understand what Brains said this morning?
"That the medication may permanently affect my hearing? I understood. I had no choice. It was either that or go crazy."
Just so long as you understand, if it happens again.
"I'll hold out as long as I can, but if it happens again, and it's that bad, I'll do it again."
It's really that bad?
"It's really that bad."
Scott looked at Virgil in sympathy. I wish I could help.
Virgil gave a wry grin. "So do I. Well I guess I'd better do something practical while I'm still able to. There was some maintenance I was going to do in Thunderbird Two."
The family's started eating dinner. Are you going to join us?
"Is that the time?" Virgil looked at his watch. "Six o-clock! How long was I asleep for?"
Ten hours.
"I guess I needed it. Now I'm hungry."
Scott smiled. They always say that's a good sign.
***
Dinner was a frustrating time for Virgil. If he wanted to have a conversation with anyone apart from his brothers he had to get one of them to translate for him. Several times he was informed that he was shouting, seemingly unable to be able to moderate his speech volume. He gave up and took to signing everything himself, which limited his conversation opportunities while he was trying to eat. He eventually retreated into his shell, ignoring his family.
Jeff looked across at Brains. "Can't you come up with anything to help us communicate with him?"
"I've g-got a few ideas." Brains admitted. "B-But they'll take a bit of t-time before they'll be fully operational."
"Well give it top priority." Jeff looked over at his middle son who was morosely finishing his dessert. "For all our sakes."
Scott leant over and touched Virgil on the arm. Do you want to go and do that work on Thunderbird Two now? I'll come and help.
Virgil dropped his spoon onto his plate. Sounds good. Thanks Scott.
The rest of the family watched them leave.
"At least he's trying to be useful." Tin-Tin said optimistically. "He's not giving up."
"Thank heavens for that." Grandma Tracy agreed. "He needs some sense of normalcy..."
***
Virgil automatically walked into the lounge and took up position with his back to the painting of the rocket.
Scott was making his way to the passenger lift when something about Virgil's expression made him hesitate. Instead of tipping backwards, his brother's attention was arrested by something in the room.
Scott watched Virgil's expression as a range of emotions flashed across his face. Then, brushing past Scott as if he weren't there, the younger man hurried from the lounge.
"Virgil!" Scott called after him uselessly. He heard his brother's bedroom door close.
Curious as to what had caused this unexpected reaction, Scott stepped over to the painting and, as Virgil had done, placed his back to it.
As he looked in the direction that Virgil had been gazing, Scott struggled to make his eyes focus against the backlight through the patio doors, and briefly wondered if this was as good as his vision was going to get.
Suddenly he could see it. It wasn't as if the object suddenly came into focus, it was more of a realisation of what Virgil must have seen.
The piano.
He hurried to Virgil's bedroom and slid open the door.
Virgil was sitting there, sketchbook in hand, drawing frantically with a piece of black charcoal.
Are you okay? Scott asked.
Virgil saw him, but didn't see the question. He angrily threw the pad onto his bed. Why is life so unfair?
I don't know V. I've asked myself that many times, especially over this past year.
You're probably the only one who understands what I'm going through. Virgil said heatedly.
Maybe. Scott picked up the sketchpad. The picture was dark in colour and dark in subject. A bird of prey with villainous claws and beak was carrying a female form into a lightning ripped storm cloud. From the female's limp hand a lyre threatened to fall into what appeared to be going to be a boiling ocean.
Scott dropped the book back down without comment.
Do you know what I can hear now? At this moment? Virgil asked.
Scott shook his head.
Nothing! Not a sound! All my life I've had some sound about me, usually the sound of brother's yelling. Scott gave a small smile at the thought. Even in situations where there was nothing to make a sound I could still hear something. My heartbeat, clothes rustling, wind, leaves. Something! I've always been able to hear music of some kind or another. I could hum to myself, or imagine... And now nothing. And what do I have to look forward too? Noise! Unbearable, unending noise! He grabbed at his ears as if he were trying to shut the sound out.
What does it sound like? Scott asked.
Imagine you're still sitting on the sofa under Thunderbird Three and Alan sets off her jets. Virgil grimaced. And that's a good day. I think it's getting worse, not better.
I wish I could help. Scott said helplessly.
Virgil took a deep breath. You can do something for me...
Sure.
Under my bed. There's a box...
Scott got onto his hands and knees and looked. He pulled out a cardboard box and set it on the bed. Is this it?
Yes.
What's in it? Scott pulled back a flap.
Virgil slapped a hand down, pinning the flaps so that they couldn't be opened. "Don't look in there!" He said out loud. He curled his hand into a fist and stared at the box. "I want you to destroy it."
Scott stood back. Destroy it? Are you sure?
Virgil nodded, his eyes closed as if in pain when he spoke. "I'm sure."
Now? Scott had to repeat the question when Virgil opened his eyes again.
Now!
Okay. Scott picked up the box and then put it down again. Are you going to head down to Thunderbird Two?
Virgil shook his head. I think I'll try to get some more sleep while I'm still able to.
Can I get you anything?
Virgil shook his head again.
Okay. Scott looked back at the box. Are you absolutely sure about this?
Just get it out of here.
Sleep well. Scott picked up the box and left the room.
He met up with his father in the hallway. "What have you got there?" Jeff asked.
"I don't know. Virgil wouldn't let me look. He wants me to destroy it."
"Destroy it?" Jeff said warily. "Where was it?"
"Under his bed."
"Bring it into my room, Scott. I think we should look at what's in there."
Virgil woke up, feeling refreshed and more than a little relieved that, temporarily at least, the tinnitus had gone away. It was unnerving for the world to be completely silent, but compared to the constant noise he'd been experiencing over the last couple of days, silence was infinitely preferable.
As he got out of bed he knocked a hardback book off his bedside table. It silently hit the floor and lay there, pages exposed. He picked it up and put it back on the table.
When he turned back to face the door he was startled to see Scott was standing there.
Sorry. Scott signed. I was in the chair. How are you feeling?
"Better now that that noise has gone away."
Brains says it'll only be temporary relief. About 24 hours.
Virgil made a face. "I know."
V. Did you understand what Brains said this morning?
"That the medication may permanently affect my hearing? I understood. I had no choice. It was either that or go crazy."
Just so long as you understand, if it happens again.
"I'll hold out as long as I can, but if it happens again, and it's that bad, I'll do it again."
It's really that bad?
"It's really that bad."
Scott looked at Virgil in sympathy. I wish I could help.
Virgil gave a wry grin. "So do I. Well I guess I'd better do something practical while I'm still able to. There was some maintenance I was going to do in Thunderbird Two."
The family's started eating dinner. Are you going to join us?
"Is that the time?" Virgil looked at his watch. "Six o-clock! How long was I asleep for?"
Ten hours.
"I guess I needed it. Now I'm hungry."
Scott smiled. They always say that's a good sign.
***
Dinner was a frustrating time for Virgil. If he wanted to have a conversation with anyone apart from his brothers he had to get one of them to translate for him. Several times he was informed that he was shouting, seemingly unable to be able to moderate his speech volume. He gave up and took to signing everything himself, which limited his conversation opportunities while he was trying to eat. He eventually retreated into his shell, ignoring his family.
Jeff looked across at Brains. "Can't you come up with anything to help us communicate with him?"
"I've g-got a few ideas." Brains admitted. "B-But they'll take a bit of t-time before they'll be fully operational."
"Well give it top priority." Jeff looked over at his middle son who was morosely finishing his dessert. "For all our sakes."
Scott leant over and touched Virgil on the arm. Do you want to go and do that work on Thunderbird Two now? I'll come and help.
Virgil dropped his spoon onto his plate. Sounds good. Thanks Scott.
The rest of the family watched them leave.
"At least he's trying to be useful." Tin-Tin said optimistically. "He's not giving up."
"Thank heavens for that." Grandma Tracy agreed. "He needs some sense of normalcy..."
***
Virgil automatically walked into the lounge and took up position with his back to the painting of the rocket.
Scott was making his way to the passenger lift when something about Virgil's expression made him hesitate. Instead of tipping backwards, his brother's attention was arrested by something in the room.
Scott watched Virgil's expression as a range of emotions flashed across his face. Then, brushing past Scott as if he weren't there, the younger man hurried from the lounge.
"Virgil!" Scott called after him uselessly. He heard his brother's bedroom door close.
Curious as to what had caused this unexpected reaction, Scott stepped over to the painting and, as Virgil had done, placed his back to it.
As he looked in the direction that Virgil had been gazing, Scott struggled to make his eyes focus against the backlight through the patio doors, and briefly wondered if this was as good as his vision was going to get.
Suddenly he could see it. It wasn't as if the object suddenly came into focus, it was more of a realisation of what Virgil must have seen.
The piano.
He hurried to Virgil's bedroom and slid open the door.
Virgil was sitting there, sketchbook in hand, drawing frantically with a piece of black charcoal.
Are you okay? Scott asked.
Virgil saw him, but didn't see the question. He angrily threw the pad onto his bed. Why is life so unfair?
I don't know V. I've asked myself that many times, especially over this past year.
You're probably the only one who understands what I'm going through. Virgil said heatedly.
Maybe. Scott picked up the sketchpad. The picture was dark in colour and dark in subject. A bird of prey with villainous claws and beak was carrying a female form into a lightning ripped storm cloud. From the female's limp hand a lyre threatened to fall into what appeared to be going to be a boiling ocean.
Scott dropped the book back down without comment.
Do you know what I can hear now? At this moment? Virgil asked.
Scott shook his head.
Nothing! Not a sound! All my life I've had some sound about me, usually the sound of brother's yelling. Scott gave a small smile at the thought. Even in situations where there was nothing to make a sound I could still hear something. My heartbeat, clothes rustling, wind, leaves. Something! I've always been able to hear music of some kind or another. I could hum to myself, or imagine... And now nothing. And what do I have to look forward too? Noise! Unbearable, unending noise! He grabbed at his ears as if he were trying to shut the sound out.
What does it sound like? Scott asked.
Imagine you're still sitting on the sofa under Thunderbird Three and Alan sets off her jets. Virgil grimaced. And that's a good day. I think it's getting worse, not better.
I wish I could help. Scott said helplessly.
Virgil took a deep breath. You can do something for me...
Sure.
Under my bed. There's a box...
Scott got onto his hands and knees and looked. He pulled out a cardboard box and set it on the bed. Is this it?
Yes.
What's in it? Scott pulled back a flap.
Virgil slapped a hand down, pinning the flaps so that they couldn't be opened. "Don't look in there!" He said out loud. He curled his hand into a fist and stared at the box. "I want you to destroy it."
Scott stood back. Destroy it? Are you sure?
Virgil nodded, his eyes closed as if in pain when he spoke. "I'm sure."
Now? Scott had to repeat the question when Virgil opened his eyes again.
Now!
Okay. Scott picked up the box and then put it down again. Are you going to head down to Thunderbird Two?
Virgil shook his head. I think I'll try to get some more sleep while I'm still able to.
Can I get you anything?
Virgil shook his head again.
Okay. Scott looked back at the box. Are you absolutely sure about this?
Just get it out of here.
Sleep well. Scott picked up the box and left the room.
He met up with his father in the hallway. "What have you got there?" Jeff asked.
"I don't know. Virgil wouldn't let me look. He wants me to destroy it."
"Destroy it?" Jeff said warily. "Where was it?"
"Under his bed."
"Bring it into my room, Scott. I think we should look at what's in there."