The Very Quiet Persons' Support Group met monthly at the Hearthside Lounge in the Aragon Hotel.
The Aragon was an austere, respectable institution on the edge of downtown. It had not participated in the orgy of refurbishment that had swept the other older hotels in the city. And the old regulars were glad because they liked the shabby gentility of the place, the comfort food served in the restaurant. The Very Quiet Persons liked the Hearthside Lounge because they knew it would be nearly empty on a Tuesday night.
About forty people considered themselves active members of the Very Quiet Persons, but it was rare that more than six or eight of them came to a meeting. It is not every month that a very quiet person can bear to socialize on a Tuesday night.
But for the last few months Rolfe had always been there. Rolfe had not chosen to be very quiet. It just happened that he was born with a voice so quiet that people simply didn't hear him. For the first thirty years of his life he struggled to be heard. He knew he was intelligent. He knew he deserved to be heard so he strained his vocal cords frantically in his efforts to speak out.
It was at Thanksgiving which was also his thirtieth birthday that he gave up. He and his sister in law Grace had started talking at the same time. Grace didn't have a loud voice, but her soft, shrill tones climbed all over his virtual murmur. What she said was interesting. Grace was a clever woman with a great sense of humor. It occurred to him that really he had nothing to say that would be a loss to the world if it remained unsaid. Across the table his mother asked ``Rolfe, did you say something?'' His mother tried so hard.
``No nothing, really,'' he murmured with a deprecatory shake of his hand.
At the Very Quiet Persons' Support Group Rolfe could shine. At first timorously and then more confidently he found he could speak and be heard. He did not have to raise his voice. He began to look forward to the monthly meetings. After a few months just about all the forty or so persons who considered themselves active knew about Rolfe. They came to dread him. Their support group was threatened. A loud person with a quiet voice had taken over. Something must be done. E-mails flew about. Decisions were made.
At the first meeting in May twenty persons showed up. Rolfe was delighted. He came in late as he always did. He started to say something but a small woman was approaching. She held out in a quivering hand a graduation card. Surprised he took it from her.
``Congratulations Graduate!'' it said. ``Congratulations on graduating from quiet person. We will miss you!''