Roger Noons
Closed Doors
A large mug of hot chocolate
“Hello Dad.”
“Ah, come in son, close the
door.”
“How are you?”
“Not too bad … shut the door,
I said.”
“It’s alright, it’s less …”
“Close the door, please?”
I did as I had been asked.
“They watch you … keep walking
past … especially that black one.”
“The Asian girl, she seems
very nice, she always has a smile when she lets me in.” I paused; the look he
gave me would have curdled fresh milk.
“Anyway,” I continued,
“They’re just keeping an eye on you, making sure you’re alright.”
“They’re watching … they want
to know what you’re up to, day and night. Always looking in … there’s no
privacy here.”
He sat back, closed his eyes
having apparently run out of steam.
I asked gently, “Has the
doctor been?”
“Yeah, another black un …
they’ve taken over …”
“Now Dad, you mustn’t …”
“Don’t tell me what I can and
can’t do.”
We sat in silence and again he
closed his eyes. After he had blinked and given a slight cough, I tried again.
“Did he examine …”
“She,” he shouted, “A young
woman … they know nuthin …”
“Did she examine your legs?”
“Yeah, had a look.”
“And?”
“I told you, she said nuthin …
‘I’ll report to Matron Mr Ellis, you can put your socks on now and pull down
your trousers.’”
“And have you asked Matron?”
“Is that door closed?”
“Yes, why are you worrying
about the door?”
“Cos a door’s not a door
unless it’s closed.”
Frowning, I decided not to
pursue the subject. We sat in silence once more and I thought he might have
dropped off to sleep, until he asked, “Were there any matches last night?”
“Oh yes, the Villa had a good
win, four one …”
“Which blind school were they
playing?” he chuckled.
We discussed football, until I
sensed that he could no longer be bothered to think about what I was saying.
“Well, I think I’ll see about
it,” I said. “I’ll come again Sunday morning, about eleven.”
“Righto lad,” he smiled, and
as I turned to say cheerio, added. “Leave it open Tom; it gets hot and stuffy
with the door closed.”
About the Author
Having spent the best part
of thirty-five years writing reports on such subjects as ‘Provision of Caravan
Sites for Travellers’ and ’Aspects of Pest Control in the Urban Environment’,
Roger Noons began even more creative writing in 2006, when he completed a
screenplay for a friend who is an amateur film maker. After the film was made,
he wrote further scripts and having become addicted, began to pen short stories
and poems. He occasionally produces memoirs and other non-fiction. He has begun
to perform his poems, and has just published ’An A to Z by RLN’, an anthology
of 26 short stories. He intends by the end of the year to have followed that up
with a novella.
He is a member of two
Writers Groups and tries his hardest to write something every day. As well as
CaféLit, he has had credits in West Midlands newspapers, The Daily Telegraph,
Paragraph Planet, Raw Edge and a number of Anthologies.
Roger is a regular
contributor to the CaféLit site and a couple of his stories have been selected
for theBest of CaféLit 2012.
