Memory Corner #8

Deaf Woman at the Window

John, my neighbor and friend from Middle School, had big ears, so we called him Ears. He loved his practical jokes, but we were all wise to his tricks and were doubly cautious around him. Still, we liked to hang around him on weekends, especially since he usually had the house all to himself. Except for his senile deaf aunt, who Ears had to take care of while his parents were away for the weekend, as usual. We never did learn where they used to go. But Ears didn't seem to mind. His aunt's meals were all prepared, and all Ears had to do was microwave them, set them on a tray just inside her room, and close the door.

"How does she know the food's there if she can't hear you?" I wanted to know. 

Ears guffawed. "She can't hear; she can smell."

I always went with him when he dropped the food off and picked up the empty tray. He'd then toss it in the dishwasher with all the other dirty trays. I never once seen him turn that washer on. Maybe he did it after I went home. 

His aunt was a short woman dressed in black with a dark veil across her face. She usually sat at the window with her rosary beads, saying prayers and counting off the beads with each hail Mary. She whispered her words in a husky sound, more clearing her throat than mouthing words. She clucked her tongue at Ears when she saw him drop off her meals. "That means 'thank you'," said Ears, as if I were too stupid to grasp its intent. She hissed when she didn't like something, like having the lights turned on in her dark room. The only light she let in was from the street light when she opened her curtains at night. Sometimes Ears would flick the bedroom light on and off quickly just to get her to hiss. Then we'd run outside to play. 

We sat on the lawn of my house while we watched the cars drive by. There wasn't much to do. It was football season, and the rest of our friends were inside watching the game. Ears and I were not big on sports. We were more into comics and horror anthologies. From my yard, we could hear the throaty prayers of Ears' aunt at the window. 

"She's praying again," Ears explained. "She either prays for her voice to come back or for me to stop messing with her lights."

"Why don't you just leave her lights alone?" I asked.

"Then what would she pray for?" he laughed. "Watch this." He pulled his shirt over his head and buttoned it over his hair, so it looked like he had no head. Then he walked over to his aunt's window and waved his arms around like some 50s costume film monster. 

That's when I heard a sound I never heard before. His aunt was stuck between gasping and gagging. She was clawing at the window screen, leaving long white lines across the surface. She contorted her face into different shapes as if looking for the right mask to wear for this frightening occasion. I wanted to tell her it was a joke, but her full attention was on Ears, and he wasn't going to stop till he got tired. I mean, he wasn't laughing under his shirt. He was just going through the motions of scaring his poor aunt. 

Finally, I had enough and pushed him away from the window. We ended up on the side of his house, where he lowered his shirt and asked, "What was that for?"

"Enough," I said.

"Why? No one's being hurt." He looked at me like I was the bad guy. 

Then the hissing started. "See," Ears said, "now she's scared. I better take care of this." 

He walked in front of his aunt's window so that she could see him. With his head. The hissing stopped. Then the clucking started loudly, softening into whispered prayers. 

"See," he told me. "I lost my head but I got it back. She thinks she did it. When I mess with her lights, she prays for bad things for me. And when she realizes what she's done, she prays to make things right again. Man, you almost messed things up. Now I better go inside before she freaks out again."

When he entered his front door and closed it, I heard the clucking begin again. That's when I decided to go watch some TV. At least that I understood.