Silver Coin

Silver Coin

Sunny’s Home for the Elderly is known to be abandoned. It’s surrounded by overgrown greenery; long, twisting vines tangle through the fence posts, rose bushes grow along the sides of the building, the green fields overgrown with wildlife and critters. The grand building itself groans with every gust of wind yet stands its ground through years of wear and tear.

There had been talk a while back about the city wanting to rebuild Sunny’s Home but nothing ever came of that plan. Sunny’s Home has become the local ‘Test of Courage’, where groups of kids go and try to get as close to the front doors as they dare. Whoever comes closest to the building is crowned ‘Fearless King’ until someone else steps closer.

Personally, I find Sunny’s Home to be… sad, more than anything. Many elderly spent their last days in the home, alone and forgotten. Some wished to see their grandchildren, wondering why they were never visited. Others longed to walk along the grassy fields surrounding the home. One in particular stuck out to me. An elderly man had asked for nothing more than a silver coin. His mind must have been stuck in his younger years, for he would say he could finally gift his younger sister a silver coin.

Another group of boys are standing at the gates of the house today.

I stop at a distance to watch them. Just yesterday, Robbie had been declared the ‘Fearless King’. He’d gotten half way across the field, some twenty feet or so, and had reigned the school ruthlessly. I wouldn’t mind a change in leadership.

In the end, one of the boys comes close to beating Robbie’s record. An owl scares them off though, and they all jump on their bikes and scurry away. After a quick glance around to make sure I’m alone, I approach the gates.

They creak, almost welcoming as I step through. A gust of wind twists around me and although it is cold, there is a warmth to it, like a gentle smile and loving gaze. The wind is playful today; it rustles through the leaves, between my fingers, and into the house.

I stand at the doors to the house, urged by faint whispers and a promise. The doors scream in protest, but I push them open and finally enter. It has been ages since I last set foot within the house.

A howling gust of wind crashes against me, threatening to throw me out.

“Wendy. It’s me.”

The wind turns around me much like a tornado, picking up leaves and dust that stings my eyes.

“I’m back. Remember me?”

Calming somewhat, the wind seems curious, nudging my arms and running through my hair. Finally, it seems Wendy remembers. With an energetic feel to it, the wind rushes deeper into the home.

I follow it down the main hall. Pictures have fallen off the walls, their frames broken and glass cracked, the ink faded long ago. Not many people actually remember those who stayed here. Everyone in this town is far too young to have known the residents of Sunny’s Home. Perhaps, if his mind is not yet gone with age, a great grandfather in town remembers. I wouldn’t know. I probably never will.

I pass many empty rooms. Rooms that once housed people I knew. Richard who loved to show off his double-joint arm. Eddie who could bake the best blueberry muffins. Janet would knit a scarf for every resident of the house as the weather grew colder. Velma and Bernard would always argue across the hall on what hunting dog breed is the best. Jack-o enjoyed carving pumpkins to decorate the home. The elderly folk and staff who resided here are long gone. But I remember all of them.

I enter room fifteen and a cold draft makes me shiver.

“Benny.” The coldness settles around me and much like an embrace after years of separation, it stays even after the mock touch is gone. “I brought the coin.”

The coin is placed on a nightstand beside the bed, the place it will call ‘home’ for a long time to come.

“You can go now. Rest. You’ve been here a while.”

The cold returns as an exhale and finally. Benny is gone. A whispered ‘thank you’ and the silver coin is all he leaves behind as proof that he existed. I stayed for a while in the company of the others, after all, it will be a while before I would be able to return.

I leave at daybreak with one last look at the home. I will continue to protect it. I have been for many years.

This place holds many memories. I will keep it standing as long as possible.

END

(Note: A little idea/concept I've been playing with.)