Vow of Silence is a short story by Jack Rusher, published here Friday, February 04, 2005. It is part of Stories.
“Silence is at once the most harmless and the most awful thing in all nature. It speaks of the Reserved Forces of Fate. Silence is the only Voice of our God.” — Melville
Herbert sent the email explaining his vow of silence to everyone at the office on Friday afternoon, just before going home. He wanted his co-workers to know in advance when he came in on Monday morning, but they thought it was some kind of joke, even though nobody considered him the joking type.
Silentium, Eduard Manet, c. 1860.
True to his email, Herbert didn’t say a word on Monday. When the phone would ring, he’d just pick up the handset and listen. At first his co-workers were confused and discomforted by this behavior, but soon everyone was calling him to talk about his or her personal life — Herbert was the only person anyone knew who would really listen, rather than just waiting for his turn to speak.
Word spread, first within the company and then without, that there was a kind of shaman who listened. The company’s switchboards were soon overflowing with calls. Herbert, formerly an invisible cog within the corporate machine, was now a very popular man, but he never seemed to grow full of himself, rather he would patiently sit and listen, his interlocutors trying to extract meaning from his special brand of silence.
The Silent Sage, as he came to be known, brought so much attention to the company that they decided to keep him on the payroll, even though he no longer had time to do any work. He was interviewed by famous television personalities, sitting stoically through questions and asserted answers, nodding occasionally or shaking his head, but still not speaking.
He inspired countless imitators, none of whom became as popular. By the sixth month of his vow, t-shirts were printed with his likeness on them; by the eighth he was chosen as one of People Magazine’s most eligible bachelors, even though he was short and bald and homely.
When his vow came to an end, after one year of complete silence, he appeared on a live two-hour prime time television special to unveil his new persona as a “talkie.” The fanfare was enormous, more lavish and star-studded than the Oscars, but when it came time for his monologue, he bombed. Herbert’s voice broke the spell that had kept the world in thrall for an entire year.
His former admirers attacked him with the vigor of the freshly converted, his yoga mat and meditation cushion sponsorships dried up, and his former employer gave him notice of termination. Herbert was a ruined man, no longer able to attract attention for his silence or his speech. He ultimately took up residence on a street corner in midtown Manhattan, where he still stands and shouts all day, giving the world all he can of exactly what it doesn’t want: him.