“You’re quiet…”

I’m not sure if Frikkie is making a statement or asking a question. “I can do quiet bok” I mumble, after a suitable pause.

Truth is I’m tired, which is several degrees away from Sonja’s very dramatic comment about being ‘bone weary’ yesterday. What does that even mean? Anyway, I know I am lying low, avoiding what lies behind Frikkie’s noticing.

As much as he sighs and shakes his head a lot when I chatter…as I do, he doesn’t like it when I’m quiet. No, that’s not quite it. He doesn’t like it when I’m too quiet for too long, too deeply, too regularly. Quiet in small consistent doses he loves, dreams of, wishes he could conjure, like that hypnotist we went to watch once. Wouldn’t Frikkie just love that: ‘Prunie quiet!’ when he snaps his fingers, and then probably potters, goes off to bed and leaves me looking blankly ahead being quiet.

I wonder if it would be peacefully quiet. Then I might even try to learn to hypnotize myself.

Another thing with Frikkie is he always, and I mean 95% of the time, he answers my question with a question. Even if it’s just “Why do you ask that?” as if he’s playing for time before answering.

And then again, sometimes he doesn’t respond at all. Now that’s quiet. Maybe the hypnotist could make all the chatterers quiet and all the quiet ones chatter, just for a change!