Age-Old Story

The communal room was like every other you’d find in a care home for the elderly.

The walls were bleak and coloured a dull-brown, while the furniture was old, tattered and stained by various liquids and foods. Only a quiet nose infiltrated the centre of the room; an old-fashioned television being ignored, and used as nothing more than background noise to keep something alive within the room.

Scattered around the large and fairly empty room were several old people, all of whom were perched into their respective seats, heads leant back, eyes closed and mouths wide open, dripping with saliva while they slept.

Though everyone was alive, the room looked like a bridge to the next life. Everyone looked as though their next breath or step could have very well been their last.

Yet in the otherwise lifeless atmosphere, three brighter sparks of life lingered in the far corner, away from the television and the others whose presence only deepened the room’s depressive gloom.

In the corner sat a man not so different from the others spending their last days here. He rested comfortably in his wheelchair, his hair thin and combed sideways in a futile attempt at neatness. Perched on his face were round, silver glasses that caught the light — too polished, too fine, too showy for a place like this. They seemed less a necessity than a statement, a final attempt to draw the eye to what gleamed rather than to what had worn away.

In front of him sat two little girls, cross-legged and staring gleefully up at him from the floor. They were indistinguishable from each other, both facially and clothing-wise. Whoever their mother was, they clearly couldn’t be bothered to buy them different clothes to make it easier for others to tell them apart.

The two girls giggled softly as the old man looked down at them with a warm smile.

Suddenly, a middle-aged woman abruptly interrupted their moment of happiness, lugging around two bags full of groceries. Her hair flopped and spread out all over the place while her eyes drooped and her mouth didn’t attempt to show even the faintest trace of joy.

The old man, for only a second, averted his gaze to the woman, smiling at her gently before turning back to look at the two girls that remained sitting calmly in front of him.

“From seeing that silly expression of yours, I can only guess that you were telling them that same-old story again, right?” The woman sniggered, taking a deep breath before continuing. “I remember when I used to love hearing all about it — no matter how many times you told it. In fact, I can’t even recall the number of times I’ve heard it.”

The two girls giggled again, but this time while pinching one another, their faces growing red.

“It was fun when I was a child, but now…now…Now I’m starting to wonder how you’re able to get my girls to sit still for so long without them interrupting even once. Just look at them.”

From the moment the woman uttered those words, the two girls rose to their feet in a frantic manner, grabbing one another and tussling around, taking no notice of their surroundings. With each movement they either screamed or crashed into something nearby, creating eerie noises that forced everyone around to awake in a panic.

Each and every old person’s eyes rolled, grunting with angry sighs as the girls fell into the open and persisted.

The old man ignored the woman, calling over the two girls with a few beckoning waves of his fingers.

They immediately halted their fighting, following the command of the old man and positioning themselves right in front of them, both standing up straight and poker-faced.

“You know,” he began slowly, his words stretching like the lines across his forehead. “You shouldn’t be wasting your time fighting each other. There’s enough in this world that will try to pull you apart. Whether it be because of what you become or simply because of what the world desires from you. But you —” he pointed gently between them. “You are different. You’ve been blessed with someone who shares the same steps, the same blood, the same heart. A twin is not just a sibling; they’re your other half.”

The girls’ eyes flickered, guilty yet attentive. They both scrambled one of their hands in the other, pushing their mouths to the side as they listened without making a noise.

“One day, the world might decide to separate you. And only then will you understand what you lost. So fight, if you must, but never forget: there is no one else who will love you more than each other.”

“Whatever you say…grandpa.” The girls didn’t let another moment pass where they were separated from each other, and instantly went back to fighting.

“I told you it’s pointless trying to get them to get on with one another,” the woman interjected.

They both watched the battle between the girls drag on, the old man lightly smiling while the woman still looked overwhelmed. The woman then turned her attention back to the old man, scrunching her face so as to hold back tears.

“Before I start moaning, I want to say that, again, I thank you so much for handing down the house to us. But that’s the problem, father. The house is too damn big. It’s such a pain trying to keep it clean.”

The old man stared forwards, barely taking notice of the woman. She didn’t notice this, however, and so she carried on.

“I’ve decided to hire someone who can do the cleaning and tidying for me. I’m simply too busy to clean the house because I’m at work all the time. And even when I’m not working, I’m doing whatever I can to make sure those two girls aren’t doing something notorious.”

“Why don’t you think those two get along?”

The woman pulled her head back, dropping the two bags onto the floor, smacking the top of her forehead and letting out a weakened wince.

“I have no idea, dad. There’s not much I can do — I’ve tried everything there is. They don’t even listen to their father. And, no, don’t think about blaming this on him, either. I know you’d like to.”

The old man coughed as he chuckled, still staring blankly forwards, his expression suggesting that he was on the verge of zoning out and becoming another one of the old people sitting lifelessly in the room.

“And don’t forget about your brother.” The woman’s voice rose as she dragged her face down with her two hands. The red in her eyes became clearer as they popped out from her face.

Those words recaptured the old man’s attention. He was heavily intrigued, but not strong enough to show it.

“He’s getting old, too. Not to mention his excessive weight, probably taking a few years off of his life. But not only that, I talked to his son and, from what he told me, it doesn’t seem like he’s got very long left either. Damn that idiot. I know it’s because that wretched son of his is not taking good care of your brother.” She yawned and stretched her arms in random directions, lightly grunting as she continued. “But what can I do, eh? I can’t say I’m any better. I threw you in here with the first chance I got.”

The old man jolted, his eyes widening and coming to life again. “Brother? Who are you talking about?”

“Junpei — your brother. Don’t you remember him?” The woman’s eyes closed slowly as she bit the top of her upper lip. Her fists clenched and her eyes began to water a little.

The old man’s smile returned, as wide as ever. “Oh yes! Of course I remember him. Have I ever told you the story of how Ren and I brought him back to life?”

Choking on her breath, the woman went for a soothing hug rather than immediately responding with words. She considerately wrapped her arms around the old man, pressing her chin against the back of his shoulder

She wept for some time, finally finding the strength to speak. “Oh…dad. I wish I could have you back. Even if it was for just one second, I’d do anything to talk to you about something else.”

Clearing his throat, the old man whispered back. “No…I don’t think you—”

“Excuse me, Taro, I’m sorry to intervene, but it’s time for you to take your medicine,” a sweet voice appeared to their side.

A thin, young lady with glistening blonde hair firmly walked toward the old man and his daughter who quickly broke from their embrace.

“Sorry about this,” the blonde-haired woman said. “I didn’t mean to interrupt, but you know how important it is for him to have his medicine.”

With one last squeeze, the woman let go of the old man, wiping the tears from her eyes, moving away from him and picking up her two shopping bags.

The younger woman, a carer, took control of the old man’s wheelchair, steering him away from his daughter, heading toward the exit of the room. Before they could leave, however, the daughter, depressed and hopeless, tried to retain the presence of her father as much as possible.

“It’s so strange and such a shame that the only thing he always remembers is that damn story. Everything slips his mind so easily, yet that — that damned story never goes. It’s starting to make me think that maybe it really did happen. Either way, it doesn’t matter, does it? I’m satisfied as long as it keeps him happy before—” she nodded to the blonde girl.

The carer looked to the floor, unable to face the daughter. “Okay, Taro. Make sure to wave goodbye to them.”

Taro did exactly that. He waved goodbye to his daughter and his two grandchildren, before being steered away and out of the room.

The corridor was dark, its end barely visible to the carer who accompanied Taro. Yet despite the surroundings and moments that had passed since, it didn’t stop Taro from remembering what had just happened only moments ago.

Before it slipped his mind — like almost everything else — he spoke warmly about his experience.

“Those three young and beautiful girls all seemed very nice, didn’t they? It was nice of them to wave goodbye to me.”

“Yes it was, wasn’t it,” the carer leaned over to Taro and grinned exaggeratively.

“Perhaps, if I ever see them again, I’ll tell them about my story — about how Ren and I journeyed to a different world to resurrect our younger brother, Junpei.”

                                                                         THE END