Silent

"Sweetheart?" Nana called from the doorframe. I look up from the canvas and she smiles, the creases forming in her warm face. I notice a line that I had missed and turn back to the canvas, quickly sketching it on there. "Pop and I are going to that bed and breakfast for the night, remember?" She asks and I nod. They went up there a lot. Nana said she liked to ‘get away from it all’ she always invited me. But I always said no. I liked being home alone.

“Well, John, Jenny’s oldest, is coming over.” She smiled. I turned my whole body to her and rolled my eyes. “I know you don’t need a baby-sitter, he called and asked if he could. I said yes. Make him something nice.” Nana said and I grit my teeth, turning back around to her portrait. She said bye, as did Pop, and I was home alone. I smiled and went back to painting in silence.

I lose track of time and before I know it the doorbell rings. I wipe my hand on my pants and leave, locking the door to the art room behind me. I run down the stairs and question why my heart is beating as fast as it is. I fix my hair in the mirror I pass and throw the door open. “Hey.” John says and smiles. I smile back and hold the door open for me to come in. “How are you…” John says his words dragging off at the end. Uncomfortable with the fact I wouldn’t answer.

I throw him a sarcastic thumbs up and roll my eyes. He chuckles and follows me into the kitchen. I’d made homemade mac and cheese like Nana taught me, and maybe I’d grill some steaks up.

“I want to apologize again for what my bother said-” He started but I just threw up my hand to stop him. I honestly didn’t give a shit about what his brother said about me. He drops it and I start cooking.

“Yah know I always thought I was good with silence until I met you. Most people annoy me when they talk but- I feel uncomfortable without the stupid small talk.” He says and I roll my eyes. He was making me do that a lot. Without looking up I gesture to the door.

“No- I don’t want to leave.” He says and I shrug. Go or don’t go. I don’t care. I flip on the TV to fill the silence for him. “Can I help?” He asks and I let him cut up broccoli.

“I’m trying to think of something to say to you. I want to learn about you. But I know you won’t tell me.” He says. I don’t have an answer for him, granted he didn’t give me a question. I take out the steaks from the fridge and go to walk out side to find that a monsoon had come in. In August that would happen in Arizona. I frown and huff. John comes up behind me. “Oh.” John says and I turn around to head to the gas stove. I could cook the steaks there.

“Hey what if the lights-” John says as thunder cracks and the power goes out. My grandparents owned an old house and this happened during any big storm. I bet it never happened in John’s parents brand new home.

“Never mind.” He mumbles and I almost laugh. I fumble around until I find the candle drawer. I start setting them up in the kitchen so I can finish dinner on the still working gas stove. John lights the candles and I smile in thanks. I cut up the cooked steak to throw it in the mac and cheese. As well as the broccoli.

I hand John a bowl and we move the candles to the living room, sitting on the couch. We eat and John is still uncomfortable in the silence. Shifting, coughing, not knowing what to say. I stand up and run upstairs to get my laptop, putting on a movie from my iTunes.

The Heat. I thought it was funny and John did to. I laugh to myself a little, it wasn’t as funny the second time, but still good. I shiver as the house gets chilly. Arizona was a desert and no matter how hot it got in the day it got really chilly at night. John sets down his dinner and puts his arm around me. I was going to put it back until I hear a crack of Thunder, so close it made me jump.

Is this what my brother heard right before he died? Is that what the bomb that took his life sounded like. I jump again as the Thunder goes off and I’m shaking, my mind took it too far. I saw the scene in my head.

Sand. Desert. A beat up town. A man, a bomb strapped to his chest, button in his hand to set it off. My brother was an assistant to the bomb technician. He wasn’t leaving the man’s side. I knew he wouldn’t. The man presses the button and he’s gone. I jump up and run to the bathroom.

My brother once told me that in between door frames where the safest part of the house. But I didn’t feel scared for my life, but my brother’s regardless of the fact it had already been taken.

John follows me into the bathroom and finds me huddles in the bathtub, hyperventilating. “So, you don’t like thunder?” He asks and I can’t even find myself to shake or not my head. “Move over.” He says and gently moves me forward to get in the tub with me. He picks me up and slouches down, resting me on his chest, putting his arm around me. He rubs my arm and mumbles conforming things to me. And something strange happens.

He makes me feel more safe than I have since my brother left for his tour. I felt safe. And not the numb kind of safe that my Nana or Pop gave me. The momentary safe that fled just as quickly as it came. I felt whole.

Turns out we fell asleep like that.

I woke up and it was still dark. I was sore but the rain had stopped and the lights had turned on. Maybe thats what woke me up. John groans and tried to stretch but I’m still laying on top of him.

I get out and he follows. I sleepily go back to the living room and John follows me when I take his hand and pull. John falls onto the couch and takes me with him. pulling me to his chest.

“You know, I never do things like this.” He laughs, the sleep in his voice making it rough and horse. I smile sleepily and he shivers, pulling a blanket over us. “I think you give me confidence.” He chuckles. “Maybe it’s because for the first time I’m the one who does all the talking.” He says and I’m pretty sure he’s sleep talking.

Regardless I take it, for whatever it’s worth.