Whatever it is to do in life, Mr Haly
has not found it. Long has he stared outside of his window watching
all kinds of people pass by. Some on their phones, some jugging and
some together, but he was always alone, without a single friend in
the world. “Good day Finley,” greeted Mr Haly. shopping for his
two boxes of weekly eggs. “Good day to you too,” replied Mr
Finley. “Have you any business today than the usual?”
“Not at all.” replied Mr Haly now
paying three pounds for his purchase.
A greeting was all Mr Haly received
from most people except from his mother, who being very old and
wrinkled now always made sure to ring her only son every Wednesday
and Friday at exactly the twentieth hour of the day. Mr Haly would
leave his window watch and sit by his phone to dialogue for more than
a minute with the only soul who cared anything about him. But this
Wednesday evening, the hour passed by without a call from his mother.
“This is unusual.” he thought. “She never misses this moment to
call. When I see her this Saturday I shall ask her the reason for her
neglect.” Rising to go back to his favourite spot to watch the
happy couples stroll hand in hand, his old eighties telephone rang.
“Hello, this is Mr Haly speaking.”
“This is Dr Stanley, of Bainbrook
home.” Mr Haly swallowed his own breath and listened prudently.
“Mrs Margaret has just passed away.”
Having no friend to share his sadness
with except his open gaze at the bleak wall ahead of him, he
shakingly dropped the phone, and cried. Poor Mr Haly, for he cried
his heart out that evening but it was all as if he cried silently for
there was no one to hear his sobs. After a while he did lay his head
to sleep, having in his hand the soft rugged teddy bear his late
mother gave him on his fifth birthday which was passed on to her from
her mother. He slept as rough as the wind and awoke as sore as the
cold. That morning Mr Haly received a phone call that his late mother
had left him an urgent note, that he was to come at once to collect
it and read it. Decorating himself as fashionable as his late mother
had taught him, adorning himself with his grey trousers which
steadied at his ankles, bright red socks, blue shirt, and a red-white
striped jumper, Mr Haley lastly checked that he had his big round
glasses around his eyes and headed to Bainbrook home.
Arriving at the care home, he was
greeted with a smile that all employees by company laws were to
present to customers; there was nothing more said to him other than
the business he had concerning his late mother. “This is the
letter, Mr Haly,” said Mr Stanley offering the sealed envelope to
Mr Haly. “Thank you,” he replied walking away to read his
mother's last letter to him in his bright blue 1990 Citroen XM. “Dear
Haly, I can now see with dim eyes the end of my frail life. What
concerns me most in this happy hour for an old woman is not my own
sufferings but that which awaits my only son at my departure. I know
it is not your fault that friends escape you, for you have tried
much. But for some reason that God only knows, people seem to pass
you by when you have all the qualities of loveliness and gentleness.
There is one last errand I want you to do for me. (Even in death she
orders me about Haly thought with small tears falling from his eyes).
There is by the river a small church that I use to take you as a
child. Go in and ask for Mr Pinkirk, for he came to me last week with
much urgency that there was a young lady, a decade younger than
yourself who desires to meet you and that urgently. (“What for?”
Mr Haly pondered). Go and see him as quick as possible in order to
meet her. For my hope of your happiness for some strange reason is to
be found in her, and whatever you are to do in life, I sincerely and
heartily believe that it is tied up with her. My teddy-boo, all my
strength is about to leave me so I finish with these last words from
my decaying mortal hands: I love you and so did your late father.”
Mr Haly admired the paper for a time
after digesting what he was to do. Small loving tears marked the
lined paper and after taking in a few deep breathes, he immediately
aimed his wheels for the church.
“If I remember correctly, the church
is right after the next turn on the left,” he thought to himself.
Anxious to understand the reason for his wantedness, he began to walk
gently towards the time-worn Anglican church. The sunflowers had
risen beautifying the stale injured grass. The morning still sparkled
but Mr Haly's anxiety caused him to forgo the notice of the bright
coloured dressed lady that sat on the bench at the church's garden.
“The vicar is out if you are looking for him sir.” spoke softly
and elegantly by the young lady. Mindful to her voice, Mr Haly
stammered in his response and said: “I am looking for Mr Pinkirk.”
Recognizing his apprehensiveness, the young lady rose to her feet and
repeated her first speech. “He is out, sir.”
“Do you know when he will be back?”
“He often returns at the eleventh
hour.” replied the young lady.
“Then I shall wait for him.” added
Mr Haly, now walking away as to go back in his car to sit. The young
lady called out to him and offered to him that he can sit with her
for she too was waiting for Mr Pinkirk to return.
K.Oni
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