Marius lived in a ninestorey panel block in Vilnius, where the walls were thinner than paper and every neighbours sneeze echoed through the radiators.
He no longer flinched when doors slammed, ignored the occasional quarrels over moving furniture, and didnt hear the shrill TV of the retired lady downstairs.
But the antics of the man living above him a certain Antanas drove Marius to the brink and made him spew curses.
Every Saturday that unpleasant fellow would, without a hint of remorse, switch between a drill and a rotary hammer! Sometimes at nine in the morning, sometimes at eleven. Always on a day off, and always precisely when Marius hoped for a few extra hours of sleep.
At first Marius, a completely nonconfrontational person, tried to take it philosophically: Maybe its just a renovation that ran over its understandable he thought, tossing from side to side in bed and burying his head under the pillow.
Weeks passed, and the hammers roar still woke him each Saturday, over and over. Short bursts, long droning squeals. It seemed the neighbour would start a task, abandon it, then return to it again.
Occasionally the unbearable noise fell not only in the morning but also midweek, around seven in the evening, when Marius came home from work yearning for quiet. Each time he wanted to get up and tell the neighbour everything he thought of him, but fatigue, laziness, and a plain aversion to conflict kept him silent.
One Saturday, when the drill roared above his head once more, Marius finally snapped and rushed upstairs. He knocked, rang the intercom and got no answer. Only the cursed rotary hammer kept screaming, sending vibrations straight into his skull.
Someday Ill! he blurted, but didnt finish the sentence, not even knowing what he would actually do.
In his mind swirled fantasies: turning off the buildings fuse, calling the police, writing a complaint, even sealing the vent with foam.
Sometimes he imagined Antanas suddenly realizing he was a nuisance and apologising, or moving out, or anything, as long as the drilling stopped.
The sound had become for Marius a symbol of injustice. He kept thinking: If only someone in the block would rise up and put an end to this atrocity! Yet everyone stayed in their own apartments, uninterfered.
Then something Marius never expected happened
***
One Saturday he awoke not to the noise, but to silence.
He lay for a long while, listening: when would the cursed device shriek again? The silence was thick, calm, almost tangible.
Finally! Hes gone or the monster left! a burst of joy flashed through his mind.
The day passed with an odd sense of freedom. The vacuum whispered, the kettle seemed almost gentle, and the TVs hum didnt vibrate the ceiling.
Marius sat on the couch and caught himself smiling. A broad, childlike grin.
***
Sunday was quiet too. So was Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday. The clamor seemed cut out of his life entirely The silence from above lingered for almost a week.
He no longer blamed it on renovation, holidays, or chance. The pause felt unnatural, unsettlinga sharp contrast after months of steady noise.
***
He stood before the neighbours door for a long time, gathering courage, wondering why he even wanted to go up. To make sure everything was alright? Or, on the contrary, to prove to himself that he wasnt overreacting?
Marius pressed the buzzer.
The door swung open almost immediately, and he sensed something was wrong.
On the threshold stood a pregnant woman, pale, with swollen eyelids. He had only glimpsed her a couple of times before, but now she looked older, as if she had aged several years in an instant.
Are you Antanas wife? he asked gently.
She nodded.
What happened? I I havent heard any
His words caught in his throat; how could he explain that hed come because of silence?
She stepped aside, letting him in. Then a soft voice whispered:
Lietuvos nieko daugiau nėra.
Marius didnt grasp it at once. It took a few seconds for the meaning to settle.
When when?
Last Saturday, early morning, she brushed away a tear. You see that endless renovation it exhausted him. He always worked on weekendshad no time during the week. That day he got up before me wanted to finish the babys crib. He was in a hurry, scared he wouldnt make it
She gestured toward the back of the flat.
There, by the wall, lay a halfassembled childrens cribits instruction booklet, packs of screws, a hex key, and assorted parts scattered on the floor.
He simply fell, she whispered. His heart stopped. I didnt even have time to wake up.
Marius stood as if rooted to the ground. The womans words sank slowly, heavily, into his consciousness.
***
The noise the same that had infuriated him, waking him every Saturday! He had cursed it and the man who produced it countless times! Marius lowered his gaze, landing on the box of crib parts.
Tiny screws, a hex key, stickers with part numbersall neatly arranged such care is shown only by people who truly want to create something important.
Do you need any help? he began quietly, but the woman shook her head.
Thank you. No
Marius left almost on tiptoes, as one does when walking away from someones fresh wound.
He descended the stairs, gripping the rail. Each step echoed with a dull guilt that had no shape yet burned fiercely.
***
Back home he lifted his eyes to the ceiling. The silence was dense, heavy, as if it were scolding him
Perhaps it was his hatred for Antanas? He hated him only because the man disturbed his sleep! He had even cursed him for that! To Marius, Antanas was not a person; he was merely noise, an inconvenience.
Now the man was gone.
But there was a woman mourning him, a child soon to be born without a father, and a crib he had wanted to assemble but never could.
Maybe I should visit his wife, he thought, and help. She probably cant do it alone
***
That evening, when his thoughts settled, Marius looked again at the ceiling. The dead silence still lingered.
He lingered in the dim kitchen, realizing he couldnt simply fall asleep that night. He went upstairs, rang the buzzer. The door opened; the woman raised an surprised eyebrowshe hadnt expected him.
Marius, clearly embarrassed, spoke softly:
Listen I know we barely know each other. But if you allow I could help put the crib together. He wanted it ready. And if I may Id like to help.
She said nothing at first, just stared at him for a long moment, as if trying to grasp the meaning of his words. Then she slowly nodded.
Come in.
Marius entered, stepping carefully over the boxes of parts. He worked long and silently.
The woman sat on the couch, hand on her belly, occasionally sighing quietly, trying not to disturb. When Marius tightened the last screw and lifted the crib to adjust its back, the rooms air shifted, as if a tension had released.
She moved closer, ran her hand along the smooth wooden rail.
Thank you, she whispered. You have no idea how much this means.
Marius stood, unsure what to answer, and simply nodded.
As he left, he felt for the first time in many years that he had done something truly right, and he sensed that he would return to this placenot as a resentful neighbour, but as someone who had learned that silence is valuable, but compassion is priceless.
Gyvenimas moko: kai nutraukiame šį triukšmą, išgirstame širdies plaktį, o tik nuoširdus veiksmas gali suteikti ramybę tiek sau, tiek kitiems.
