4. far on the fields
He drove out towards the countryside in his father’s black Chevrolet Impala 67, the words had instructed him to. Perspiration grew under his armpits from the warm breeze of air outside, even with the window half open. Cole wore a thin jacket over his checker shirt. He remained in the car waiting on one side of the road. The ignition switched off, one hand resting over the steering wheel. Whether if the radio was transmitting anything or not, Cole had left his hearing aid at home. He’d come to realise that once they were back in his ear, the words or faint whispers were gone. And that he could only hear them in his right, as if he went deaf in his left ear.
There was a song playing on the radio, SMOTHER by Daughter. Sung with soft lilt by Elena Tonra, it felt melancholic. If only Cole heard it this moment.
A glance at the rear mirror and then away. Cleared his throat. Gently his hand tapped against his chest once, twice closer to the left. There was something in his inner pocket. He pulled out an envelope from his left inner pocket. Confusion had fallen over him, how could this envelope be in his pocket? He opened it and read through, his eyes followed every word. One after another. Distilled by so much sorrow. Cole struggled with such despair. It was suffocating. Removed the keys, held onto them as he made his way on the fields. He left the note under a tree and then made his way back to the Impala.
About to start the ignition Cole stopped, with his fingers resting around the keys. He stared towards the fields he’d just exit from. Waiting, about a minute or two. Then twisted the keys as he turned away facing the road ahead. Cole started the ignition and drove back home.