It didn’t take the soldiers long to figure out the old man was deaf. Every day he would show up and pace the grounds outside the wall, staring at the dirt with his hands in his pockets. They would yell sometimes because they were trained to be cautious, but he never acknowledged them. Not until dusk when, right before he left, he would wave at them and grin. So they just watched him with their guns in their hands. Every day for three weeks.

The day he came too close was the first time in six months that they’d seen clouds. One of the soldiers pointed out that he had a rain slicker on. Another one noticed that he kept stopping and shaking his pant legs. They asked each other if they should call for the captain, but he really wasn’t bothering anyone. He was just simple. Deaf and simple. Then, instead of leaving that night, he walked toward the wall.

The captain told them that three warning shots were more than enough. He told them they were right to not take the risk. None of the soldiers felt sure. It rained that night.

A week later the first flowers started sprouting in neatly paced rows.