Hear No Evil: A Short Story Read online

  “They think you’re scary,” Grace wrote to her one afternoon. “You’re too loud.”

  “What about you? Are you scary?”

  “No, they think I’m kind for giveshare feeding them.”

  Giveshare. Samantha had kept that page of their notepad and puzzled over the word. Grace had always been especially good with writing and spelling, and it wasn’t a slang word that Sam was familiar with. I wonder where she heard that, then. Nowhere, of course. Grace couldn’t hear.

  **********

  Now that Thaalwshu had told his friends that Grace was kind, she had been handing out handfuls of birdseed every day. It was funny, all of the little thoughts dancing through her head, even though most of them were the same.

  hungry hungry!

  so kind!

  leave soon for other home, fly off, BIG inside sound say so!

  old nest in frrruuet, you can move in!

  thanks for kind giveshare of nest!

  It was nice to hear and be heard.

  At dinner, Grace had tried listening to her mother. All she could feel was a vague gray cloud, like something was covering her mind. Grace would try to talk to her, but nothing went through.

  Hi mom, can you hear me, I mean what I am thinking to you? Thank you for dinner, it’s good except for the peas you know I hate those.

  Grace tried yelling with her LOUDEST voicethought, mentally screaming at her mom. But her mother was too wrapped up in her own thoughts to hear the ones on the fringes of her mind.

  Maybe it was being able to hear things.

  Yes, Grace decided, that was it. The outside sounds made it hard to hear the inside ones.

  **********

  Grace was finally eating again, thank God. She was still too thin, but had lost the gauntness and the frightening sharp angles. Her hair was bleached blonde from sitting outside all day, but it had finally grown out to a point where people at the grocery store no longer stared.

  Sam started piling food on her plate while Grace ate. She had been losing weight, too. Each time she went to her therapist, Sam got another prescription – anti-anxiety pills, anti-depressants, sleeping pills, caffeine pills. She got some painkillers from one of her friends, and had kept refilling Grace’s Vicodin prescription for herself. The haze made life a bit simpler, took the edge off of her worry. She opened up a few bottles and grabbed herself a handful of pills.

  Sam loved Grace – Oh, with all my heart and soul – But the guilt! Sam’s therapist kept telling her not to blame herself, but it was hard to lay blame anywhere else. Grace seemed to finally be coping with her deafness, but she still walked with a limp, and her arms were riddled with scars from the accident.

  And it was her fault. Samantha waited for the drugs to kick in. They took a little bit longer each day.

  Why did we have peas again?

  Sam looked up from her plate. Grace was staring at her intently, unblinking.

  “Need something?” Sam wrote on their notepad.

  “No,” Grace wrote back. “But next time salad instead of peas, please.”

  Sam frowned. There had been something in her head, something not hers. She supposed she had just remember that Grace was a bit picky about her vegetables, that was all.

  You heard me!

  The thoughts waiting to burst in from the outskirts of her mind faded, and the sleeping pills took over Sam’s mind.

  Sam grabbed their notepad and wrote. “I’m going to bed, sweetheart. Don’t stay up too late.”

  **********

  A couple of times Grace was sure that her mother heard her, but there was a thick fog inside of her mom’s head, like she was trying not to hear. Her mom had seemed different, lately, but Grace couldn't quite put her finger on what the difference was. Since her mom was difficult to reach with her voicethoughts, Grace tried elsewhere.

  Grace could pick out a general feeling from her neighbors, especially if Mr. Hamilton was out mowing.

  So HOT why did I move to Florida, damn this lawn.

  Sometimes Grace would go for a walk while her mom was at work, and she'd slow down in front of the houses with dogs. Dogs always seemed to want to talk.

  Hi hi hi hi. Can I come out? Lift the latch, lift the latch. We can run around!

  If she focused hard, REALLY hard, Grace could send out a couple of thoughts. It was very tiring, though. Each evening at dinner, Grace tried thinking to her mother and hoped that it would get easier.

  How was your day at work? Thanks for the chicken, you remembered no peas this time. Can we go to a movie tomorrow?

  Some days getting through to her mother was easier than others. This night, Samantha grabbed their pad of paper and wrote to Grace. “I was thinking about going to the movies tomorrow, if you would like. An action one, so you don’t need to hear what they’re saying.”

  Grace smiled. “I would like that,” she wrote back. She grinned. Maybe, just maybe, she'd be able to get through to her mom after all.

  **********

  Grace liked the movie – she was finally learning to read lips well, and the movie didn’t have much dialogue anyway. But she couldn’t help but think of her birds, or think about listening to her neighbors. She tried to listen to her mother again, but Sam's thoughts were still blurry.

  Another explosion, seriously? Maybe we should get pizza for dinner...

  In the darkness of the theater, Grace tried to relax and open her mind to the people around her, reach out past her mother. She closed her eyes, and grabbed the voicethoughts as they floated past.

  What a lame movie, wish we had seen the romcom.

  How much longer is this thing going to last?

  Woah! Did you see that car flip?

  I can't believe Chris finally asked me out!

  Oh, man, my popcorn's all gone.

  The voicethoughts filled her head, and Grace smiled. It was getting easier to pull in and out of the ideas, to reach out and then retreat into her own head. She didn't pry, of course – some thoughts were personal – but it was comforting just to hear other people be, well, people. She hadn't realized how much she missed sounds until they were all gone.

  Grace cast a wider net, and tried to hear some thoughts outside of the theater.

  Ten bucks for a ticket?

  I got put on late shift again. Ugh.

  Why do people spit their gum on the ground?

  Grace let herself get caught in the rhythm of voices, and float on the sea of their thoughts. This was human. This was real.

  Grace's breathing slowed, and she was almost asleep when she felt a different sort of voice on the edge of her mind.

  You have found me.

  The voicethought was so big and red and jagged that it jerked Grace back to full alertness. She jumped. What was that? Who was that?

  The voicethought slipped away, and Grace was left sitting in the theater next to her mother, her face illuminate by the red-orange explosions on screen.

  **********

  Sam smiled. After the movie, Grace had given her a peck on the cheek and gone into her bedroom instead of her usual perch on the lawn. She's sleeping again, and eating. She's going to be ok. Sam had been afraid to be optimistic, afraid to be happy. She didn't want that fragile bloom of hope to get crushed, but it was growing in her every day. Sam let that hopeful feeling build up inside of her and fill her heart. It was November, almost Thanksgiving, and Grace was getting stronger. The scars on Grace's arms had faded, and her limp was less noticeable by the day.

  She'll be fine. January is right around the corner, and Grace will fit in at her new school. Sam was sure of it. Or, at least she prayed for it. What was the difference?

  Oddly, as Grace began to recover physically, Sam began to recover mentally. Grace is healthy, Grace is strong, she chanted to herself. Healthy, strong, healthy, strong, healthystrong.

  Before bed, Samantha reached for the familiar orange plastic bottles hiding in the top kitchen cabinet and began untwisting the caps. She shook the pills into a
pile in her hand, and went for a glass of water. She put the first pill on her tongue, but stopped. She spat the bitter medicine back into her hand.

  No more. No more pills. You've been drugging yourself senseless.

  Sam walked over to the sink and threw the pills down the garbage disposal. If Grace could get better, it was time for her to get better too.

  **********

  Grace hadn't tried to reach out to any minds since she heard the thought in the movie theater. That voicethought haunted her. It was so large, she couldn't believe she hadn't heard it before. Grace lay on her bed – for the first time in weeks – with the covers pulled up over her head, trying to shut out all of the voicethoughts. She could make out Thaalwshu's yellow chirps, but ignored them. Something lurked out there in the world, something huge and raw and hungry and terrifying. Grace wanted no part of it. She pulled her mind in to the center of her thoughts, and padded her brain. No thoughts were going to intrude tonight. She slept, but it was restless and fitful, and the red angry thought twisted into nightmares through the night.

  Grace was running from something, a cloud of smoke, an amorphous fear. The smoke filled her lungs and flooded her chest. She was choking and her eyes were burning.

  You have found me, and I have found you.

  Grace awoke with a start. It was dark outside. She glanced at her clock. 3 am. Go back to sleep.

  Sleep was impossible now. Grace got up and turned on her bedroom lights, then curled back up under the covers. It seemed silly, but she felt like the light could keep out the red voicethought. She stared at the ceiling until the sun came up and she heard her mother's footsteps walking to the shower, getting ready for work.

  Grace waited until she heard her mother's car pull out of the driveway before getting out of bed. She stood in her room, afraid to leave the safety of its walls. Something fiery was out in the world, and though she tried to shut her mind to it, it lingered on the outskirts like the smoke in her dream.

  Grace went to the kitchen and grabbed a carton of juice. Her mother wasn't there, so she took a swig directly from the carton. She peered out of the kitchen window and saw the backyard filled with birds. With a sigh, Grace grabbed her bag of birdseed and headed outside.

  Thaalwshu fluttered up onto Grace's shoulder, and his soft, feathery voicethought drifted into her head.

  hungry hungry yesterday. Where were you?

  I heard a new voicethought, replied Grace. A scary one.

  Thaalwshu blinked, then stared directly at her.

  what did voicethought sound like?

  Grace tried to remember the feeling of the thought, the way it pierced her, frightened her.

  It sounded like this.

  The rest of the birds scattered. Thaalwshu jumped off of Grace's shoulder and began spinning around in distress.

  that sound like voice beneath voices, before winter, before all die!

  Grace thought back to Thaalwshu. Is it bad that I heard it?

  The bird flapped around, feathers dropping off. oh, bad bad bad to hear voice beneath voices!

  **********

  When Sam got home from work, Grace was inside watching TV. Good, good to see her doing normal things. Sam had a surprisingly good day – she was worried that without the pills, her mind would drift to the uncomfortable things. Instead, she had a smile on her face. Grace was improving, and with school in the spring – maybe she should start booking a trip to New York City. That would give both of them something to look forward to.

  Sam went to the kitchen and began poking around in the cabinets, pulling out a couple of pots for dinner. Spaghetti tonight, she thought absently. Maybe a salad.

  Grace stirred from the couch. This was the first time she had heard her mother's thoughts clearly. They were a lavender, tinkly sort of thought, ringing gently in the back of her head. Grace went to the kitchen cupboard and grabbed the noodles and pasta sauce, placing them on the counter next to the stove.

  Sam turned back to the counter, ready to grab the ingredients for dinner. Grace had already laid out everything in a row on the counter. How had she known we were doing spaghetti? Did I text her earlier? She shook her head. I must have told her. Or maybe she saw me grabbing that large pot. That's it.

  Grace studied her mother as she paced the kitchen, filling the pot with water, setting the sauce to simmer. She was tempted to reach out, try to share her voicethought with her mother, but she kept holding back.

  What if I hear that other voicethought? What if it's everywhere?

  The voice beneath the voices.

  Grace shivered. Even as her mother's thoughts bounced around her head – Garlic bread would be good, did we run out of milk? Shit. – Grace could still feel a red tinge to everything, and the jagged edges of that voice beneath the voices was reason enough to stay locked in her mind. How could she stay alone in her head now that she knew she could hear everyone else? But how could she dare go out, knowing something so terrifying was waiting for her?

  Sam and Grace finished dinner quietly, then sat down to watch some TV. Sam flipped the TV over to the evening news. Even though Grace could read lips pretty well, it was easier to read the closed captions at the bottom of the screen. She gazed at the words, only half paying attention.

  There you are. I've found you again.

  Grace shifted in her chair. Where had the voice come from? She glanced at her mom. Sam's eyes were half closed, and she was curled up peacefully in the recliner. No, not there.

  Grace looked at the TV again. But those projections couldn't share their thoughts with her. No, the voicethought was coming from somewhere else.

  Grace rose off of the couch, then tiptoed to the kitchen door. She eased the door open, then stepped out into the back yard.

  It was already dark. The moon, glorious and bright and yellow, made the grass glisten a thousand shades of green and grey. The humid air hugged Grace's skin. She walked toward the back gate, toward the woods next to her house. Grace could hear the stars in the sky, faintly singing.

  We breath fire to the cold, we shine light to the dark.

  Though she couldn't hear them, she knew that the yard was full of croaking frogs.

  Leap with joy of life into the air, land on the grass, feel the dew.

  The grass and the trees, they had voices too.

  Up from the earth to the sky. Breathe in the air, soak up the rain, grow.

  But under everything, there was an electric hum. The buzz made the hair on Grace's neck and arms stand up. It was there, full and rich, just lying in wait below the surface.

  The voice beneath the voices. The thought beneath the thoughts.

  The undercurrent called to Grace, and she was no longer scared.

  Come closer, there's nothing to fear.

  It had always been there, lurking just beyond where her mind could reach. Grace embraced it, and let the red smoke of the voice beneath the voices fill her mind. The static made her brain tingle, made her skin flush with heat.

  Grace undid the latch to the back gate and entered the woods.

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