Memorable Sundays

Feba Susan posted under Flash Fiction QuinTale-08 on 2019-05-09



The Summer sun shone brightly across the blue sky above the ancient building that lodged some hundred elderly people. Some abandoned by their own while some like Mrs. Esther, the oldest resident of the convalescent home, who had no-one to turn to. “Mrs. Esther, please get up! Mr. Raymond is here to visit you this Sunday.” her nurse announced as she helped Mrs. Esther from the bed. “No! I cannot see anyone today.” Mrs Esther answered, quite irritated. Her frail body housed a beautiful soul but dementia changed her personality twenty years back. Yet now and then, glimpses of her past could be seen when she remembered her son William. He was her only child. Life for her revolved around her precious Willie! The war had taken away her husband when William was just a year old. William grew into a handsome young man like his Dad. The mother-son duo spent their time helping each other in the rice fields. Sundays were special. After church, they went trekking, immersed themselves in long conversations about everything under the sun. Willie loved the high ranges and some days, he carried his darling mother way up the hills. Together they laughed and sang old country songs that filled their hearts. But one day William decided to join the Army and sadly was forced to leave his dear mom much to her displeasure. And even then, Sundays remained special. She set apart the day for talking to her son. The brief conversations over the phone became her only solace. One Sunday there was no call. She became worried.  Few weeks later, news came that her son was no more. Just like his dad, he too was gone. Mrs Esther was shattered that day. Her neighbours thought it is not good that she stays alone and so one among them, Mr.Raymond brought her to this place which since then became her home. But she isolated herself from others and sat in her room near the telephone. Her days and nights were spent in tears thinking of her only son. Then one Sunday her memory went back in time. Every Sunday, just like the olden times, she would ready herself for the phone call. Since then, Sundays remained special

***

The nurse helped Mrs.Esther to get out from her bed. She was soon guided to the telephone next to her bed where the nurse helped her dial her son’s number. She was soon in conversation with her Willie. Her gloomy eyes twinkled with joy and her laughter echoed across the doorway. “Am sorry, Mr Raymond. She refuses to meet anyone on Sundays. I hope you understand.” the nurse said apprehensively. “Ah! Yes, I should have remembered. Let her relive the past.”Mr.Raymond smiled and walked out. The evening brought the Summer rain and soon the laughter faded away. _ For more of such content follow us on Social Media: