Binky the Mime

Every morning, amid the ear-splitting noise and construction going on around him, Binky the mime sets up the tools of his trade on the corner of 53rd and Keller Street.

Preparing for the first of  many people who would pass by him on their way to whatever work  occupied their time for 8 long hours.

Wearing faces like zombies, occasionally some would drop coins into a cap near his feet, often not seeing as he executed an exaggerated bow and blew a kiss in gratitude. 

And he would still be there at 5 'clock, smiling his brightly colored smile, when the very same people, like army ants, trooped by him on their way back to a different world.

          

(It's difficult to guess Binky's age because of his makeup, but I would guess him to be around  25 or so.)

I have always looked forward to seeing him, smiling yet silent, as I began my day.

I don't remember exactly when it was, but one day, Binky was accompanied by someone else.

One of the "little people," as they are called.

My curiosity piqued, I waited until I knew it was nearly time for Binky to close up his "office" and go home.

Or, wherever it was that he slipped away to each evening.

I stood across the street, watching and waiting for a time when the foot traffic would have slowed enough to allow a conversation.

He saw me as I crossed the street, smiled broadly and waved his usual "I'm happy to see you!" greeting.

"Hi! I'm Wally!" said his companion, extending his arm for a firm handshake.

"I'm Binky's friend."

Ah, I see. Have you been friends for a very long time?

"Yes. A very long time.  Turns out, 'im 'n me were born on the same day!"

Then I asked if Binky EVER spoke.

"Nope. Never. He CAN'T. And he can't hear, neither. Somethin' happen'd to 'im when he was born.

"'an he just never got any different.

"Sometimes I come with 'im just to keep 'im company. I get bored, ya know?"

Yes, indeed, I DO know.

Does he have any family?

"Naw, not really. I mean, they left 'im at the hospital after he was born an' never went back.

"Same as my family did, soon as they found out I wasn't, as some people put it "normal."

"Nobody knew what to do with us. Back then, people like 'im an' me were just sent to a special home 'til we could kinda take care of ourselves.

"Then we were given a little bit of money, and sent away on our own."

(Was that my heart I just heard breaking???)

Not wanting to dwell on such unpleasant circumstances, we continued talking about other, less painful, topics.

 As we spoke, Wally would look to Binky and communicate in some secret language known only to them.

Finally, Wally hoisted himself up and announced that it was time for them to go.

For the next week, I couldn't shake Binky from my thoughts, as I stood watching him from my window.

Then, a plan began to formulate in my head and the next time I saw Wally with Binky, I again crossed the street to talk to them.

After the usual pleasantries were exchanged, I came to the point of my visit, and told Wally that I wanted to try to help Binky.

You see, I said, I'm a doctor that works especially with those who cannot hear.

"Oh no," cried Wally, "we can't afford anything like that! But we kindly thank you for your offer!"

And with that, they waved goodbye and made their way down the street to the bus stop.

Every day I continued to watch the scene that played out beneath my window, and to see the huge smile that always brightens my day.

I decided to wait a while and try again.

Once again explaining what the procedure involved, and reassuring them that technological advances had made such a thing possible, they agreed to my accept my offer.

Finally.

All the details were attended to and the day of the procedure arrived.

I was not completely confident that Binky and Wally would actually show up.

My main concern was keeping both Binky and Wally calm.

It wasn't very long before the pair entered my office, looking around with fear written on their faces.

I will spare you the details of the procedure; it has nothing to do with my narrative here.

There are no words to adequately convey the rush of emotion that played across Binky's face when the procedure was finished.

I'm sure you can imagine how it must have felt to him to actually hear.

And even though I was somewhat acclimated to such emotions, for some reason I found myself shedding tears along with Binky.

It would take some time for him to adjust to the new sounds,

and the volume would be increased incrementally.

With their assurances that they would keep me informed of any concerns they may have, they left my office.

But not before Binky stepped toward me and, wrapping his arms around me, smiled broadly and waved his usual wave.

After a week or two, their life returned to what passes as normal. Each day, Binky continued entertaining the robots.

It was wonderful to see his face, his smile even broader than before, if that's possible.

And then...little by little, I began to notice a subtle change in Binky's demeanor.

Usually smiling, bowing, and blowing kisses, he seemed to be less exuberant in his routines.

Less, happy is the only way I can describe it.

I attributed the change to all the stress of the procedure, and adjusting to his new life of hearing.

Then, Binky stopped showing up to claim his place on the corner.

After a few days of worry on my part, the door to my office opened to admit Wally, followed a few steps behind by Binky.

A very forlorn-looking Binky.

I was astonished to see him in this sad condition! What could have happened? He'd been so happy just weeks earlier!

"I'm sorry doc. But Binky wants you to make 'im like he was before."

Astonished is an understatement of how I took this bit of news.

REVERSE the procedure??????

"Yessir."

Why on Earth does he want me to do THAT?

"Binky doesn't WANT to hear anymore. Here, I'll read you what he said to me. I wrote it down so I wouldn't forget nuthin'.

"I liked my life before. When I couldn't hear all the cruelty, sadness, hate around me. I didn't know about the awful things that people did and said to each other.

"I was happier then. Not being able to hear isn't such a bad thing after all. I didn't HAVE to hear all the noises the hearing people do.

"I want to feel happy like that again."

Incredulous as it was, at some level I understood what he meant. But I was not ready to give up yet.

Yes, I understand, but you also won't be able to hear the birds, or music, all the beautiful sounds!

Wally conveyed this thought to Binky.

"He says he still hears all those sounds in 'is heart, he just hears 'em differently than everyone else does. An' he can hear 'em whenever he wants. They're still beautiful to 'im."

We discussed it at length and I asked Binky to think about it some more to be absolutely certain it was really what he wanted.

As I instructed, Binky went home to think and returned at the end of the week for the reversal procedure.

After a few days, he once again resumed his place on the corner.

Only THIS time, the real Binky had appeared, smiling broadly, blowing kisses and waving to passersby.

Happy, once again, living in his world of silence.