The Village Mute

And what might have happened to him

Phyllis and her husband were delighted when Phyllis’ sister Megan and her husband and 12-year-old boy visited. They lived far away and could visit no more than once a year.

Megan’s family was very outdoorsy and liked nothing better than going on hikes so Phyllis and her husband had planned on hiking with them in the hills just outside of the village.

They had barely started their hike when they reached the top of the small hill just outside the village. Atop the hill was a marble statue of an old skinny man with long scraggly hair and a long beard sitting in meditation looking out over the village.

“Oh my,” said Megan. “This is new. When was this statue put here?”

“Last year shortly after you guys last visited.”

The 12-year-old boy asked, “Who is that a statue of?”

“It’s a statue of the village mute. Some people called him the village idiot. He lived in our village many years ago. I was just a little girl when he was an old man and disappeared.”

“He disappeared? And what’s a mute?”

“Well, no one ever knew what happened to him. You see, he was born without a tongue so he could not talk. He could only make a few sounds like aaaa and uuuu and mmmm. So he wandered around town chanting, aauumm, aauumm, aauumm.”

“It was really quite annoying,” said Phyllis’ husband.

“He was actually a rather sweet, loving man. He was always smiling — when he wasn’t chanting. Even though he had no job he never begged for money or food.”

“And when he smiled you could see that he had only two teeth left and that was annoying to look at,” added Phyllis’ husband.

“All the cats and dogs in the village seemed to love him and they followed him around. All the children, though, made fun of him, calling him an idiot and a retard and sometimes throwing rocks at him. Strangely, he never got mad at them and simply waved and smiled at them.”

Phyllis’ husband chimed in again, “Another awful thing about this village idiot is that the only clothes he ever wore was a loincloth. No matter the weather he was always almost naked. It was disgusting — especially when he got really old.”

“Anyway, every afternoon this mute man would come up to this hill to sit and meditate and chant while looking out over the village. If you stopped and listened you could actually hear his chanting all the way down in the village square. A lot of people didn’t like that.”

The 12-year-old boy pointed at the statue, “What’s that mark on his collar bone and chest?”

“Ah yes, well I’ll get to that. You see, one day the mute went to the hill like he did every day but he never came back down. He chanted all afternoon and all evening into the night. In the morning as people awakened and came out of their homes they looked up to the top of the hill and saw that the village mute was still sitting there… But he was no longer chanting.”

“The man sat there the entire day and never moved. And the next day he was still there. And the next and the next. So the town doctor and the mayor and a few other people went up there to see if the mute was still alive and to figure out why he never moved.”

“The man’s eyes were closed like he was asleep but he remained sitting very erect in his meditative lotus position. The doctor checked him out and realized that he was still breathing and he still had a pulse but he was completely unresponsive to the people’s questions or their prodding. So they just let him be.”

“After a few weeks the village mute was still sitting there. No one had seen him get up to go relieve himself or eat or anything. He never moved. The doctor went to check him every week and every week he was still alive. Someone asked if the man might be in a coma but the doctor explained that he could not survive a coma without intravenous feeding. The doctor said that he could not explain how the man continued living without food or movement or ever opening his eyes.”

“After a few months the man was still alive and people started hiking up to the top of the hill just to stare at the freak show. Often there were birds sitting on the man; on his head or shoulders or on his hands. It wasn’t long before the man was covered with birdie doo doo.”

The twelve-year-old boy spoke up, “Just like this statue is.”

Phyllis chuckled, “Yes, that’s what happens to statues. Anyway, one day a little girl went to the top of the hill to try to talk to the mute. She came running down to the village and told everyone that the man talked to her. ‘But he’s a mute. He can’t talk,’ they said. ‘You don’t understand,’ she said, ‘he talked to me in my head.’”

“The girl was soundly punished and sent to her room. Of course whenever she got the chance she would sneak out and go talk to the man who could not talk.”

“Then one day some young boys went up to the top of the hill and started throwing rocks at the man. One of the rocks was very sharp and it hit the man on the collar bone and cut open his skin and he began bleeding down his chest. And he never moved. The boys ran away.”

“The village doctor was alerted and he went to the top of the hill along with the mayor and some other men. He cleaned and dressed the wound. The next day they went back up the hill and the doctor checked on the wound and it had completely healed. ‘This is quite miraculous,’ said the doctor.”

“One of the men said, ‘This is really getting creepy. I say we just haul this geezer away and bury him.’ But then the mayor said, “This man is still breathing, he still has a pulse and still bleeds so obviously he is still alive. That would be murder.’ So they left.”

“See that mark on the statue? That is where he was hit by that rock.”

“So what happened to the mute man?” asked the 12-year-old boy.

“Well, he sat at the top of this hill for five months. He never opened his eyes, he never ate and never got up to go to the bathroom. And he never died. He just sat there. But then one day he suddenly disappeared. He was just gone. Some people say that some men went up there and konked him over the noggin with a shovel then buried him somewhere. Some say that he mysteriously turned into a bird and flew away. Others say that he just melted into the hill. The truth is no one knows whatever happened to him. He just disappeared.”

“So who put this statue here?” asked Megan.

“Remember that little girl who said that the man spoke to her inside her mind? Well, when she grew up she married a wealthy lawyer and she commissioned this statue and had it placed here.”

“Yeah,” said Phyllis’ husband, “Just when we had finally managed to forget all about that stupid village idiot she goes and puts this statue here to remind us about him. Seriously, many people in the village think that she is a little cuckoo, too.”

“So now instead of looking up at the hill and seeing the mute man now everyone can look up here and see the statue of him,” said the 12-year-old boy.

“Yup, that’s right. And sometimes on a very quiet morning some people have said that they can still hear very faint chanting.” Phyllis smiled at the boy.

The five of them then proceeded onward with their hike.

Copyright by White Feather. All Rights Reserved. This is a work of fiction. Writings of White Feather

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