Silence Is Golden

By Steven Bays

George was on his way home after a night out with his friends. It was late and since it was a weeknight, he would pay for it in the morning. His alarm would go off on time regardless of when he went to bed. George, in his early twenties, still lived with his parents. He had a job working in construction and hoped that soon he would have enough money for an apartment of his own. Living at home wasn’t so bad. It was just him and his father right now. His mother was away visiting family. 

George was hungry and knew there wasn’t much to eat at home.  His father cooked their meals but nothing he made was very appetizing.  They bought takeout whenever they could but that was expensive. George tried to prepare something once, but it wasn’t any better than his father’s concoction.

On his way home, George decided to stop at a Pizza place and get something to eat. He took a shortcut to the Pizzeria, a route he didn’t usually take. Halfway down the block, he saw what looked like his father’s light brown sedan. It was parked at a meter, with a ticket on the windshield. His father had been at a church event the night before and claimed his car had been stolen. George pulled over and inspected the vehicle.   He recognized it as his father by the small statue of the Madonna on the dashboard. There was no sign of damage, and the doors were locked. If it had been stolen, how would they lock the doors? A flashlight, a gallon of paint, and brushes his father had bought were still in the back.  

George’s father was asleep when he got home. “Dad, wake up. I found your car. Let’s go get it.”

His father fumbled to get dressed and was curious about where it had been found and if there was any damage.

“No Dad. It’s okay, but it’s parked at a meter and has a ticket.” 

His father finished dressing and grabbed his keys. “Let’s hurry before the thieves come back for it.”

 As George drove him to the car, he sked, “Is it really my car?”  

“We’ll find out soon.”

George pulled up behind the car and watched as his father inserted his key into the lock. It opened. He gave George a thumbs up, got in, and started it up. George followed him home. 

When they arrived, his father asked his son to go along with an idea that came to him. 

“You know I lost money at the track, right? Your mother will want to know where the money went. We’ll tell her I had to pay for damages to the car that the thieves caused. Okay?”

That was fine with George. He wouldn’t say a word to his mother and at the same time, wouldn’t tell his dad that he didn’t think the car was ever stolen. No, his father probably forgot where he parked it. George didn’t plan on saying anything to either parent. 

Steven Bays was born in Greece. His family immigrated to the U.S. when he was two and raised in Brooklyn N.Y. Steve enjoys long walks, listening to music, and working out at the gym. He also plays guitar in a Rock and Roll cover band. His fiction has appeared in Shooter Flash, Mocking Owl Roost, Spank the Carp, Waxing and Waning, and A Thin Slice of Anxiety.