Whispering Sam

Whispering Sam got his nickname from the fact he was near deaf and either didn’t know it or wouldn’t admit it. He was famous for yelling, “Why are you whispering?” It was explained to him that being mostly deaf only made him see it as whispering. He called bullshit on that. He was famous for a few other things as well. He ran shine and once set himself and his car on fire. Mostly, though, it was his deafness and his denial of itthat got to him.. Even in his presence people would talk about him in a normal tone of voice. They thought badmouthing that way someone in that way was hilarious. They eventually started badmouthing Sam right to his face in a normal tone of voice. Then they’d laugh. Sam didn’t get it, not the badmouthing or the joke. People can be really ignorant especially in a bar and when drunk.

He only came into town once a week. It was all he could stand these people, what with they’re bitching about his truck and whispering behind his back. He ought to take his beer home and drink it but Daddy always said a man who drank alone was a drunk. Mad Sam didn’t want to be known as a drunk. He’d drink his share here in town, sleep it off in the truck, and then go on home. He always slept it off. It wasn’t right, he thought, to drink and drive. Not that he got drunk, exactly. Just sort of drunk.

“Say there, Sam, you are really ugly ya know that?” This was from Pete, Sam’s biggest tormentor. It was like a hobby to Pete. He wasn’t really ballsy enough to do this but he knew Sam couldn’t tell what he said.

“What? Why are you whispering? You got something to say, why, jus’ say it. Don’t be a chickenshit about it.”

“Chickenshit? Who ya calllin’ me a chickenshit, you old bastard?”

Pete knew Sam couldn’t hear that either. At that point the bartender would usually step in. “Pete, you started this and I don’t need the Sheriff comin’ round. Now, you shut your trap and move down the bar.” Since the bartender was sober and bigger than Pete, Pete would walk away.

Sam would look at the bartender and ask, “Frankie, why are you whispering? Why does everyone whisper? How’s a fella supposed to hear anything when everyone’s whispering?”

“Sam, you need to do something about your deafness. You ought to try getting a hearing aid.”

“Whad ya say? Speak up.”

Sam finally decided the problem may be him. A lot of people would “fun him” for a cheap laugh but not his mama. She told him repeatedly to go to a doctor. He didn’t think the his Mama wwould be wrong.

The Sheriff, who he had met a couple of uncomfortable times, wouldn’t make fun of him. The Sheriff was a straight shooter. The sheriff told him he was as deaf as a rock. Yes, the problem may be him.

Sam was sneaking through Mrs. Gilliam's yard. He was sneaking so that he could get to a bar before anyone saw him. The last time he came roaring into town people started grabbing their heads as if they were having aneurysms. One old bat threw a rock at him. She was really old so the rock only went as far as the sidewalk. It hit some old guy in a wheelchair who started cursing. The last that Sam saw of that was the two old people going at it. He was tired of all that. He couldn't understand why people couldn't talk in a normal tone of voice like he did. In a bar, almost everyone talked to him in a “normal” tone of voice. Sometimes, though, they also punched him.

He was about half the way through the yard when he was attacked by Mrs, Gilliam's dogs. They weren't Dobermans or pit bulls but Sam was still in trouble. They were Chihuahua's meanest dogs known to man. Sam was sneaking through the yard in the dark and couldn't tell they were Chihuahua's. He suddenly found himself covered with rats. Screeching, biting, angry rats that had a hold of him and weren't letting go. Soon, Sam was screeching and trying to tear the rats off. He was scared to death. Rats carry the plague, he thought. The Plague! That's all he needed.

Actually, what he needed now was to escape. If these rats ever got him down, he was doomed. He made it to the sidewalk and the rats disappeared. He went to the street light and looked down at his legs. His pants were shredded and he was mangled. The rats had torn him up pretty badly. Rats! Rats carry rabies and the plague! Sam got very shaky. He decided he'd better tell the sheriff and then get to a hospital.

.The sheriff was drinking coffee as he read over the day shift reports when Sam came roaring in. No one roars into a room quite like Sam. He was like tornado mixed with a hurricane. He gets your attention very quickly. “Rats!” the sheriff got startled and jumped up, spilling hot coffee on his lap. He wanted to take his pistol out and shoot Sam. That moment passed. After all, this was just Sam being Sam. He pointed at the chair in front of his desk and told Sam, “Sit down and tell me about the rats, Sam.”

“We got to do something!”

”“Sam, listen to me. We aren't overrun by rats. I'd have heard about it”' the sheriff explained. Sam had put his feet on the sheriff's desk and said to him,”I know a rat when I see one.”

“Sam, get your feet off my desk”, the sheriff responded. He did look and saw that the pant legs had a series of tiny rips and Sam's did have some bite marks on his bony ankles. Still, he wasn't buying the rats.

Sam was screaming about going after the,rats. “Give me s shotgun and I’ll have your back.”

Give Sam a shotgun and turn him loose on the town? The sheriff may as well sign himself in at the mental ward at the hospital. The idea of arming Sam with a shotgun wasn't crazy but the act of arming him was. “No, Sam. Let's go to where the attack happened so I can see for myself about the rats.”

“Let me go with you. I ain’t scared none,” Sam lied. The Sheriff drove to Mrs. Gilliam's place and told her he was checking for a deer running loose. He didn't want to alarm her with a rat story he didn't believe. She told him to go ahead. He signaled Sam to come with him but Sam didn't respond even though he was looking right at the Sheriff. He's a lot deaf but not even a little bit blind, he thought. The Sheriff shined his flashlight on Sam, nearly blinding him. Sam got out of the car, slowly and reluctantly. The Sheriff looked all around the yard with Sam on his heels, literally. Sam tripped him a couple of times. No rats. Mrs. Gilliam cracked open the back door and asked if they had spotted the deer.

“We ain’t lokin for no deer,”Sam yelled out to her.

“No we're not! Well, yes we are but there aren't any rats here, Mrs Gilliam. Rest assured of that. Sam, you be quiet.”

That should settle things down. It didn’t He shouldn't have thought that. This was Sam here. Then Mrs Gilliam's Chihuahua’s got wind of Sam and tore out the door. Mrs. Gilliam screamed, Sam screamed and the Sheriff screamed louder. This set the dogs off even more which got Sam yelling louder and got Mrs. Gilliam crying and sobbing. The Sheriff snatched the two dogs up and gave them to Mrs. Gilliam and assured her that nothing was wrong. “You mean except for Sam being in my yard”, she replied.

Thee Sheriff said. “Are you satisfied that we have no 'rat' problem?”

“Yea except for the rats.”

Sam was sitting at the bar beside Claire, who always spoke what she was thinking whether or not anyone cared or was listening. Most people ignored her. Sam wanted to ignore her but couldn't because of what she was saying. “I really don’t like you.”

No one liked Sam that much so it was no surprise. The surprise was that few people saw a need to tell Sam out of politeness and the fact the he wouldn't hear it. Sam didn't hear just what he wanted to hear but he didn't hear everything you wanted him to hear either.

He went to a hearing specialist to find out if he was “a little deaf.” After a yelling match at the front desk, Sam was placed in a room.

He had never been in a doctor’s office. He looked around. He thought the bed he was sitting on was a bit short and narrow. He hoped he wouldn’t have to stay the night here. There were some machines sitting around. There was a smell to the place. It wasn’t a really bad smell like an outhouse or himself, to be honest, but it was strong.

After twenty minutes the door opened. Sam wasn’t looking that way and turned to see a man standing there. He jumped.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t men to startle you. I’m Doctor-”

“You didn’t startle me.”

“No? Okay. I’m Doctor Wayne David. I’d like to have my technician test your hearing so we know where we’re at.

Okay?”, the doctor said very loudly.

“Okay.” Sam knew where he was. Things seemed a bit off here. Still, he promised his mama he’d come in. He was also curious. After another twenty minutes or so a young girl came in and waved for him to follow her. They went into a room that had a booth. The girl said, loud enough for Sam to hear, that she was going to place headphones on him to test his hearing. She told him to put a finger on the headphones when and in which ear he heard the sound. Sam thought that was stupid. How was he supposed to hear with headphones on when he couldn’t hardly hear without them? Well, okay, he did promise Mama.

Strangely enough, Sam did begin to hear sounds. It surprised him to no end. Then he heard the girl tell him, “Now I’m going to say some words. I want you to say them back to me. Okay?”

“Yea, whatever you want.”

When she was done with that she told him the doctor would be in to see him but he looked like a good candidate for hearing aids. Candidate? Sam prepared himself for another twenty minute wait that lasted forty-five minutes. The doctor showed up, told him he was a good candidate for hearing aids and his technician would be right in to take care of him.

Forty-five minutes for that? Sam wondered how long he would have to wait if he was bleeding?

The technician came in with a small box. She placed the hearing aids in Sam’s ears and plugged then into a machine. She asked Sam some questions. As he answered them she fooled with the machine. Eventually she unplugged the ear buds from the machine, adjusted them in his ears and asked, “How do they feel?”

“They feel- hey, you’re not whispering.”

“No sir, I’m speaking in a normal tone of voice. The hearing aids are working. No more whispering for you. Congratulations.”

Sam went outside and stood there for a while. He was listening to things he didn’t recognize. It was sounds he had never heard before. Someone walked by and said hell to him and he heard it!

He went over to the bar. It was dark in there and the hearing aids didn’t show very much. Pete spotted him and waited until the bartender wasn’t looking and said to Sam,“You’re as ugly as roadkill.”

Sam punched him in the mouth. Pete started yelling and the bartender came up. Pete said Sam had punched him. The bartender believed it but thought Pete probably was making fun of Sam so to hell with him. He said so to Pete, “You know, I heard all of that. I got me some hearing aids and I can hear now,” Sam said. There something I don’t get.”

“What’s that, Sam”, the bartender asked.

WHY IS EVERYONE WHY IS EVERYONE WHISPERING?”