Day 122 - Silence Story

Silence Story

Matthew Ryan Fischer

Davis paused to listen to the silence. He had begun by pausing to take a long drag from his cigar, and in doing so found a moment of silence in which he could listen to the world around him. It wasn’t completely silent – he lived in the city. There was no way it could be completely silent. But it was silent enough. There were things you noticed when there was silence. The noise of crickets at night. A trickle of water from a neighbor’s backyard fountain. Traffic from the nearby street. The distant sound of lovers giggling and tripping over themselves. Or maybe that was the sound of the inebriated stumbling along the street. Or both. He couldn’t be sure. They were too distant and too alike to tell the difference.

The cigar was a Cubita SMS Robusto. It had a hint of licorice and a woody character to it. There were supposed to be notes of chocolate and coffee beans with a robust and spicy finish. Davis couldn’t tell all that. He just liked the way his body absorbed nicotine which made his lips feel tingly and his finger tips light and numb. He didn’t know about the rest. To him it was all just window dressing. Chocolate? Coffee beans? He had no idea if that was what he was tasting. It was like the people that went to wine tastings and just made up scents and hints and textures. Studies had proven people would convince themselves of most anything at a wine tasting. He supposed the same was true with a cigar.

He was having trouble keeping the Cubita lit. Normally he appreciated the long draws that could be had, but he had left this one sitting out for too many days on his porch and the moisture at night and the dry summer days had dried and cracked the wrapper and made it hard to draw from the cigar and keep it lit. He found himself taking repeated and quick puffs to ensure the thing would stay lit.

He did appreciate the silence though. He just sat there on the back patio with Ari and Annie. They were unrelated but unfortunately had similar sounding names. Davis had not picked them as friends because of that fact. Davis wasn’t interested in Annie like that, but he did have an innocent crush on her. Any woman that could smoke a cigar and wear a corset and tell dirty jokes deserved to have many crushes laid upon her. But he had no intention of ever trying anything.

All three just sat in silence and had a drink and had a smoke and didn’t say anything. It was nice. People talked too much. They talked when they had things to say. They talked when they had nothing to say. And they talked every moment in between. And if they weren’t talking, they were texting or tweeting or photoing something. No one could just sit still and be anymore. Everyone had technology ADHD and couldn’t disconnect. Annie and Ari could disconnect. Davis appreciated that. They could just sit together and not talk and simply exist.

Davis had a friend in high school who knew how to shut up. He was one of the best friends Davis ever had.

Davis thought that perhaps he would just shut up. He wondered if he could communicate with his eyes or his thoughts. Maybe the silence itself would convey a message. He had read somewhere that when Clint Eastwood got a movie script the first thing he did was cut out half his dialogue. Sure it added mystery to his characters, but that was what facial expression and acting was for. Maybe. Or maybe Clint Eastwood didn’t like to talk. Or maybe he thought of it as a big joke – to get paid for doing nothing, and then people fell for it. Either way it sure made him seem tough in the Spaghetti Westerns. Davis wondered if he would seem tough if he stopped talking. He wondered if people would ever know what he was really trying to convey. Maybe he would have to buy a pen and a notepad.

“You look funny. What’s on your mind?” asked Ari.

Davis took a long draw from the cigar and stared at Ari. Nothing happened. Slowly he let the smoke out.

“Nothing. Nothing at all.”