Thursday, January 19, 2017

#6 - The Storm on the Sea of Galilee

Banks, hi honey -- It’s me, your mother. We miss you, your father especially. Elliot told us that you were having an art show in the city. That’s so great! …… Banks…… we, we really miss you. Honey, there’s something I need to tell you, it’s your father, he’s-----

And that’s when she stopped listening. Banks cut the voicemail off and her stepmother’s voice was cut short from finishing her sentence. Banks was sure that her father would be fine no matter what was wrong with him. She looked at her pile of 3 weeks worth of mail. A good third of it was crumpled up from Logos’s harsh remaining hand and angry delivering style. There were five letters from her father and stepmother, more attempts at communication in three weeks than she had gotten in the past year from them.
Banks frowned and tossed the mail onto the table, she ran out of her apartment door and didn’t stop until she reached the pond behind the police station. The few people skating around on the pond didn’t seemed alarmed by Bank’s dishevelled appearance. There were a few couples, and a few loners, but no matter who they were with they seemed to be in their own little happy world. The scene melted the edge of Bank’s emotions.
She sat in the snow and drew the image of the skaters in the snow, using the mud underneath the thin layer of ice as a sort of shading. After a little time had passed a couple walked past the pond and glanced at the edge of the pond. They looked alarmed, and quickly waved the policeman over. There was frantic whispering, and then the policeman’s notepad was out and he was taking notes.
“Excuse me?” Banks asked the one of the women in the couple “What happened?”
“Oh dear,” The woman mumbled, obviously shaken.
“Oh you’ll have to excuse my wife,” the second woman said “There was this little purple mitten frozen in the pond, it’s been there for years, and now it’s gone.” the woman laughed “It’s silly, but we’ve grown quite attached to the mitten, all of the regulars at the pond that is.”
“It’s okay ma’am, we’ll find out what happened” the policeman reassured. Banks wished them luck and quietly excused herself, to wander back home. When she got home she listened to the voicemail again

Banks, hi honey -- It’s me, your mother. We miss you, your father especially. Elliot told us that you were having an art show in the city. That’s so great! …… Banks…… we, we really miss you. Honey, there’s something I need to tell you, it’s your father, he’s sick. Really sick. He really wants to see you. He thinks he’s getting close to the… um never mind. Please call us back. Please.