Work Text:
Bill stands in front of the fireplace, holding a red cloth in his hand and looking at the photograph. He has already dusted all the furniture but this place made him stop unconsciously. There are two happy people in the photo posing for the camera with wide smiles and looking at each other with warmth. Bill can swear that he hears Stanley's laugh, although he can't possibly do it.
‘Billy, look, there's a northern cardinal on the branch! I've been looking for this bird for so long and now I finally can make a couple of sketches! Lucky me!’
And Bill looks but instead of the curly head and the shining eyes of the young ornithologist he sees an empty windowsill. It reminds him that he hasn't aired the room and Bill opens the window, looking outside like Stanley could be there, feeding his little birds. But there are only puddles and dirty leaves in the yard.
It has been raining all day long, although the day was supposed to be sunny. But Bill doesn't care – it has been raining hard inside his soul too, and not a single forecaster could promise a light of the sun for him. Rain made him put beating out the rugs aside, so Bill just vacuumed the carpets and swept the floor. And now he's left alone with his thoughts and doesn't know what to do with them. They start filling his head and it hurts. While Bill was busy with the house duties, he almost forgot about the accident but now there's nothing to do. Or almost nothing.
‘Billy, do you remember about the shoes? I know you don't like it, but you should polish them. Oh, and brush my coat, please. I'm going check the chicken and put it in the oven. Do you want a glass of fresh orange juice? I'll make some for you.’
Bill turns his head automatically, but invisible breeze carries the sound of Stanley's voice away.
‘Thanks, honey,’ Bill whispers to the empty house, ‘you don't let me lose my mind even after...’
But instead of continuing the phrase he only shakes his head.
There are two pairs of shoes at the door. Bill takes the smaller ones and starts polishing. There's no need to do so because Stanley won't go anywhere tomorrow. But Bill can't force himself to take his shoes away. He thinks that if he does so, the house will become irrevocably empty. So he keeps rubbing them carefully.
After he has finished with the shoes, he opens the wardrobe to find the coat and brush it. An invisible arrow pierces his heart, when he sees a blood stain on the light fabric. Bill blinks a couple of times and the stain disappears. The workers of the cleaner's managed to remove the blood. But it doesn't help.
The day of the terrible accident runs through Bill's mind clearly.
They just went for an evening walk after work as usual. It was so cold, so they decided to return earlier and took a shortcut through the yards. Stanley was so happy. The next day was supposed to be wonderful. They had planned to sleep a lot, then go to the park to watch the birds and draw. After this they would go to the cinema and finish the day with a bottle of wine. Stanley's laugh filled Bill's heart with love and warmth. But dark shadows in front of them made the goosebumps ran down his spine.
Bill remembers that everything happened very quickly. It was five of them – rude, tall and scary men with the mischievous grins. Bill grabbed Stanley's hand and tried to move back, when the shadows suddenly caught them. Three of the bullies held Bill while the other two were beating Stanley, screaming that Jews didn't deserve to live and that they had to burn in the hell for their religion. Then one of them took out a blade and hit Stanley with one quick movement. After that Bill remembered nothing. He couldn’t hear Stanley's moan, full of pain as well as his own scream. He didn’t remember falling beside Stanley, trying to help and squeezing his cold hands. He didn’t see Stanley's last smile and a thin line of blood, flowing from the corner of his mouth. He didn’t remember that darkness, which followed after a thud on the head. But the darkness didn't leave him.
A brush falls on the floor. Now everything looks spick-and-span, but it doesn't make Bill happy. He feels a wave of pain, which can't be pressed by the sedative anymore. He grabs Stanley's coat and slides on the floor, burying his face in the fabric. He allows the tears to run down his face and screams bitterly.
Who said that boys don't cry?
