The Ventriloquist | A short story - FictionsteemCreated with Sketch.

in #story7 years ago (edited)

Noah.png

He laid awake staring at the cross that hang above the door. The cross that before was a symbol for veneration to him gradually became just an ornament in the room, the only one. His was a room so small that he could reach the door handle from sitting on his bed, which was against the green damp wall. To his left there was a wobbly table covered by a sticky plastic cloth, where he kept a kettle, a jar of granulated coffee and a pot of butter; this, together with the bread he brought home every evening, made for his every breakfast and dinner. There were also two chairs in his room; on one, he kept a change of clothes, on the other, he kept Noah.

Noah was his puppet, his companion, his best and only friend in the world. They spent the days making a living together, and at night they both pretty much shared the same lifelessness. That was also a time when the only difference between them was the permanent grin that decorated Noah's face. During the day, out in the open, they became one. It had been like that for over 20 years, or more. He had long stopped counting them, time for him had no longer a special purpose, for his existence now was motioned purely by inertia. He followed precisely the same routine day-in, day-out.

Before anyone else in the boarding house got up he used the shared bathroom, returned to his room, ate, adjusted Noah and left. With this it was as if he lent his life to Noah, who would greet passers-by with compliments and well-wishes. On busy streets, they sat on benches attracting small crowds of tourists and children who gave them money and snacks in return for the entertainment. They would journey the city on busy buses bringing joy to the commuters and travellers. People came to talk to Noah, to take photos with him, some even kissed him!

Noah had a favourite song, a football team, he dreamed of having a girlfriend as well as a friend to play cards with. He very much liked cigarettes, but they were too expensive. Noah dreamed of holidaying on the beach, which he knew only from TV. His dreams and desires amused his audience, and for that they filled his shirt's pocket with coins. At sunset Noah resumed his day. He used to say that he was afraid of working at night, because the crowds were different then.

On that particular evening, on an empty bus homewards, the ventriloquist sat still - Noah grinning on his lap. His mind empty of thoughts, his eyes staring vaguely at whatever was in front of him; looking but not seeing. Another man three sits behind them curiously observed the ventriloquist and his puppet, he had seen them on many occasions before and very often they took that same bus and stopped at the same stop in that poor neighbourhood.

The three of them exited the bus; the ventriloquist, Noah and the curious neighbour, who despite his rapid strides could not catch up with the others. In an attempt to make contact he shouted. His voice echoed on the deserted, dimly lit street, at that close summer night 'Hey, neighbour what´s your name?'

The ventriloquist halted his fast walk, turned back, Noah was ready to engage in banter 'well, kind sir', he exclaimed, 'my name is Noah, isn't it an extremely hot night?' this drew an spontaneous laughter from the neighbour who replied 'no, I mean your name my friend. What is your name?'

The ventriloquist lowered his puppet, stared at the dark street towards the shape that stood a few meters away expecting an answer. Instead of replying to the stranger, he turned and continued his walk homeward. With one hand he held Noah, with the other a bag that carried two rolls of fresh bread. Not a single thought was formed for the remaining part of his journey. The truth was that it had been so long, it had been so many years of loneliness that his name had faded away at some point in the past. He no longer remembered it.


steemit-100x100.png [Original content by Abigail Dantes - 2017]

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I was hooked for the six minutes of reading. A really sad and fun story. It's amazing how a fiction writer goes into the world of the unattended and bares it in a way they (or their puppets) can't dare find words for. Great work. Upvoted bigly!

Thank you very much for taking the time to stop by Sir. 😉
You know it means a lot to me coming from you!
Very much appreciated.
Best.

Got me glued to my mobile.... Nice piece ...thumbs up...☺

Oohhh! Great :))
Thank you for taking the time to read it!

@Abigail-Dantes:
I loved your story, a very interesting piece.
Will we ever discover his name I wonder?
I do hope he´ll be OK and we can revisit him again soon.
Upvoted and waiting for more :-)

@bistonic, thank you for taking the time to read my little tale! :)) Yeah, who knows!? Maybe we will find out more about him in the future.
Best.

Hey @abigail-dantes a refreshing and engaging read. So true how monotony and loneliness rubs against a person like and eraser to the point that he forgets his name. A poignant story.
Here is a post that I had done some time back
https://steemit.com/philosophy/@alz190/11-things-a-lollipop-taught-me-about-life

Hello @alz190, I liked your post very much! What an insightful experience you drew from desiring, purchasing and eventually losing a lollipop. I do believe we should learn and improve as a result of everything and anything we go through! I particularly liked your points no. 4 e 8.
Thank you for taking the time to read my post and leaving such a meaningful comment!
All the best for you :))

that was beautiful!

brilliant, amaizing writing. Keep it up.

Thank you @kingjan :). I will try!

interesting narration....

Support me and enter here https://steemit.com/help/@gr3g0r/hi-i-m-from-venezuela your collaboration is important @gr3g0r Follow Me!

A good story and well written, but depressing...

Yes @petropoulous, this story examines loneliness and routine from a very bleak perspective. Thank you for reading and commenting. Your feedback is very much appreciated! :)