TRUE STORY

The Quiet Man in the Corner With Sad Eyes

Through the eyes of a child

There was something special about that day, although I didn’t fully understand what. I was too young for my mom to explain the situation, or maybe she didn’t have the right words. I was just under three years old.

Mom gave me a bath and dressed me in one of her pretty homemade dresses. She sat me on top of the washing machine to fix my hair. That’s where she always did my hair. It was easier for her. She combed it, pulled it tight, and put it up in piggy tails. Then she added a bow on each side.

We got in the car, and mom drove for what felt like an eternity. I took a nap in the backseat. When I woke up, she had parked at a scary-looking building. Mom was sitting there waiting in the front seat, holding her purse tight. She looked as if she was thinking about something important and sad. She wiped away her tears and blew her nose.

She got out of the car and opened my door to let me out. She tidied my hair and dress and held me by my left hand as we walked toward the scary building.

I was in awe of the building!

It looked like a castle with old stone walls and fancy, rounded windows. Never had I seen anything like it before. It had strange cars in the parking lot. They were white, with light blue hoods and big gold stars on the doors. They had something on top that was red, white, and blue. I didn’t know what that was.

Mom and I went inside the building. I saw men wearing slacks, button-up shirts, and fancy black dress shoes. They each had a pistol hanging from their big black belts. I noticed something gold and shiny on their shirts. I had the feeling these men were important.

Mom talked with a man behind a tall desk. I couldn’t see him, but I could hear him. He gave her some papers to fill out. The room was full of people, and everyone was looking at us. There was nowhere to sit, so mom stood at the desk to do the paperwork.

She couldn’t hold my hand anymore, so I held onto her skirt as tight as I could as I watched the tall men with the guns walk past me with no smiles. I wondered what they were doing. It must have been important.

Mom finished the paperwork, so we stood near the desk and waited. I wasn’t sure what we were waiting for.

Then a man opened a door and waved at mom to follow him. We walked through the doorway and down a long hallway. It was a quiet walk, except for the noise from the man’s fancy black shoes clacking and his keys clanging.

This was the oddest place I had ever seen.

The inside was even more scary-looking than the outside. There were strange rooms down the hallway. Each room had benches against the walls, and the rooms had a wall of bars facing the hallway. They even made the doors of bars!

Then we came to a room where a man was sitting on a bench. He was in the right-back corner of the room, staring down at the floor. His hands were resting on his knees as if he was uncomfortable. He looked like he was waiting for something or someone.

His eyes fell on me as he looked at us. Then he glanced back at the floor. He didn’t smile. He looked angry. I felt afraid.

The man with the noisy keys stopped at the door to that room.

“You have visitors,” he announced as he unlocked the barred door.

The man sitting on the bench spoke not a word. He looked at me as if he was studying my face. I could see and feel the pain in his eyes and wondered what made him hurt so badly. The way he looked at me made me wonder if it was my fault.

I didn’t understand.

The man with the keys pointed at the man on the bench and told me I could sit on his lap. I looked up at mom, and she smiled and nodded her head yes. I felt like I had to. I didn’t know why, but I had to.

Hesitantly, I walked over to the man and stood at his knees, waiting for him to lift me up and set me on his lap. He didn’t want me on his lap. He looked away. I felt rejected. Even though I didn’t know what that word meant, I knew how it felt.

The man with the keys picked me up and sat me on the quiet man’s lap. I looked him over and searched his face for answers. He didn’t look as important as the men with the gold on their shirts, but I knew he must be important somehow.

Mom bent down, looked at me, and whispered,

“This is your daddy. You can hug him if you want to.”

I looked at him, and our eyes met. He didn’t look away. I lifted my arms to give him a hug around his neck. Those angry, sad eyes had softened just a little but I could still feel his pain.

He softly said, “Hey.”

That was the only word I remember him saying during the visit.

Before I knew it, it was time for mom and me to leave the barred room with the quiet man. We stepped out, and the man with the keys locked the door. I waved bye as we walked past, looking back until I couldn’t see him anymore.

We walked down the long hallway, through the crowded room with the tall desk, past the men with no smiles, and out the door of the strange-looking castle.

Shortly after that visit, the quiet man came to live with mom, me, and my brother. We were a family, or so it seemed. He was happier than he was on that special day but he was still reserved.

Years would pass before I would learn what that strange castle was, who those men with no smiles were, and how they used the cars with gold stars on the side.

My discovery of why the quiet man was sad would take even longer. One day, I finally understood why he looked at me with sadness, anger, and rejection, but that is a story for another day.

If you would like to read the second part of this post, I shared it below…

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