OLD MAN'S TALE-3

                                                           EPISODE 3

             “Yeah, I was involved in a ghastly accident with my brother and his friends. I was the only survivor.” Peter sighed. “How I survived the accident was a mystery, till now it is still a mystery. I was found lying unconscious far away from the burnt vehicle. No burns on my body, except for the swollen skin on my left hand. Then there was speculation that I must have jumped out of the vehicle before it exploded. But I just can’t explain what happened; I could only recall that I was listening attentively to a country music by Nick Collins before the ugly incidence.

            “That must have been a miracle,” Mary held his hand in hers. “That you survived the ghastly accident is a miracle.”

            “Miracle?” There was doubt in Peter’s face. “How I wish the same miracle had saved my only brother’s life.” He sighed before he added. “Here is another lesson, Mary, party but don’t party too much.”

            Mary looked confused. “Party, but don’t party too much,” she said just like he did.

            “We partied too much that night and young and vibrant lives were lost. I remember how my younger brother became tired of partying that night, but I persuaded him to stay longer. We took more alcohol and we got too drunk. Another lesson Mary, drink but endeavour not to get drunk. Jack, the driver of the vehicle was so intoxicated that he drove too fast and smashed the car against an oncoming vehicle. Then the country music we were listening to stopped and loud cries followed. When I became conscious, I was told that every other person in the vehicle except me burnt beyond recognition. Joseph, Oscar winning actor became all bones. His flawless flesh was eaten ridiculously by fire. His charming smiles, vibrant look and supernatural talent became a memory. His kind heart melted away just like a burning candle.  Every person in the country talked ceaselessly about him, his pictures were on the headings of papers. Some said that he was such an indispensable actor and that no one would fit perfectly in some excellent roles that he performed. Some said Hollywood was him that passed away. No one talked about me, his living brother, an actor who survived in the accident. I wasn’t never noticed, I was only granted interviews about him not about me. Then I realised how my effort wasn’t noticed and appreciated. Nevertheless, no one except God is indispensable; many other actors did more excellently than he did. His death gave room for some unknown actors to be known. Soon he was forgotten just like smoke that quickly disappears into a thin air. The headlines of papers changed from his numerous stories to trending ones. Once he was forgotten, I was forgotten.”

                        Peter shut his eyes suddenly and Mary speculated that he needed to sleep. He must have gotten weary from the long discussion he had with her. He had done an incredible job that day, she had never seen him talked that much.  She was straightening his pillows when he opened his eyes. Then Mary kissed his fore head as he let out a bright smile.

            “You should sleep now,” Mary whispered into his ears.

            “Not until when I have finished my story,” he said quietly and Mary smiled. “My throat is as dry as my eyes.” Mary knew what he meant; he needed to drink some water. Once Mary placed the glass cup in his mouth, he took a gulp and then he took a deep breath before he continued. “It was difficult to survive without Joseph; more so, I blamed myself for making him party that night. He didn’t want to party that night, he didn’t want to stay that long in the club and he didn’t want to do too much drinking, but I persuaded him. I blamed myself so I became an alcoholic. After several months of depression and regret, I returned to Marilyn just like the way the prodigal son returned to his father in the bible story. Marilyn like the father did to the prodigal son welcomed me into her house without grumbles. Though my son, Andrew protested, nevertheless, she was still that caring woman that I married.”

            “She had a beautiful and forgiving heart,” Mary commended and Peter smiled.

            “I wept bitterly once my eyes fell on one of my painting hung carefully on the wall. Marilyn had kept it clean. Gazing continuously at it, then I started to wonder why I never considered it a good work. It was a beautiful painting, Mary. Marilyn said that day that she had purposely kept it on that wall for many years because she knew no matter how long I had stayed outside, one day I would come home to realise how beautiful it was. Once I got over the emotional trauma about Joseph’s death, I returned to painting. I made great success and many of exhibitions won people’s heart.” Peter shut his eyes again and Mary assumed the story has ended. She looked at the writing pad on her hand and her eyes rolled over those words she had highlighted. Every word he said to her had touched her heart deeply.

            “Another lesson to hold onto, Mary,” Peter said all of a sudden. “Go to Africa and enjoy Africa.”