My father’s neighbor Mr. Wong passed away recently. It was a quiet affair, as he was old and had been sick for a long time. I visited the Wongs briefly last year, to invite them to my father’s birthday party. He and his wife were cordial, said they could not go outside by themselves, not even next door.
Mrs. Wong used to be quite a beauty. She had some Spanish features on her face–big eyes and a tall nose. Since their confinement she wore a knitted cap to cover her grey hair and all her teeth were gone. Every time I pulled the car into my father’s driveway she pulled aside the curtain and waved at me. In fact, the once silky white curtain was dirty and torn where she pulled every time she saw a familiar face. That was her communication with the world.
The house has been dark since the death of Mr. Wong, and the curtain stayed still. She may have abandoned her post out of loneliness without realizing that she had been lonely.
