Everyday Heroes - Oticon

Simon was sitting in the sofa, looking down at his hands. One was
a little swollen. His mother had questioned him all the way home
and chastised him for not having said anything. Now she was sitting
in the kitchen talking to his grandmother and teacher.
His hand was sore. For one awful moment he was afraid that he
would no longer be able to play the piano. He felt angry at Peter for
ruining his hand. He donned his jacket carefully and sneaked into
the corridor, keeping an eye on his mother the entire time. Then he
opened the door gently and trotted down the road without shutting
it behind him.
He let himself in to his grandmother’s house using the key she
always hid in the pot plant by the terrace. The lights were out and
the curtains were drawn. The piano crouched in the dark like some
giant shadow, taking up even more space than it usually did in her
living room. Simon entered the room slowly and stood hesitantly
in front of the piano, too anxious to touch it. And all his anger
seemed to evaporate. Exhausted, he fl opped into the easy chair and
gradually fell asleep. He had no idea how much time had elapsed
when the lights suddenly went on in the living room. His mother
and grandmother were standing there – his mother almost out of
her wits. She was gibbering on and on, but he was too tired to pay
attention.
The next day dragged by. Simon’s mother had decided to stay
home and she was now pottering about in the kitchen. Simon had
skipped his regular piano lesson with his grandmother, choosing
instead to cycle as fast as possible through the town. He raced past
the hotel, the hairdresser, the bank and the shopping mall. He could
see the hill and the big yellow school out of the corner of his right
eye, but he pushed on with both eyes half closed and with both
hands grasping the handlebars. He realised that he could cycle all
the way to the city limit if he wanted to; it wasn’t that far. He braked
hard when he reached the town sign. The sun was dazzling and the
wind was wafting the sand up from the road. In theory, he could
just keep on going. Up ahead, the road widened, fl anked by trees
and bushes, stretching off into infi nity. But his mother… she would
be worried. And he wasn’t really sure whether he was ready for this
quite yet. Perhaps one day.
Simon returned home to fi nd his mother and his grandmother
waiting for him.
‘Where have you been? We’ve been so anxious.’
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