Fiction Prompt: A Sane Man’s Silence

"When you get to the station, you will explain yourself better. But right now, anything you say shall be used against you in the court of law," Officer John sneered at Mr Andrew as he was handcuffed and led out of the compound.

Everyone in the neighbourhood seemed not to understand what was going on. The only thing they saw was two officers accompanying the culprit out of the gate.

"I can't believe this. No, he can never do such a thing," said Tara, one of Mr Andrew's staff. "He is always gentle and easy-going. He's never found anyone's trouble. Oh, what a pity," Ifeanyi, the gate man, said pitifully.

Mr Andrew is a retired teacher from a government school. He lost his wife a few months ago to a ghastly motor accident on her way back home from an occasion. It was a sad day for him, and for weeks, he couldn't get over the incident. He never thought his wife could leave so soon, not after several dreams and hopes for the future.

They were even planning to send some donations to a few orphanage homes before the incident happened. This has been their mandate for years, since they received the call from God.

The couple had walked with God for years and had experienced great breakthroughs over time as they worked together as a team. They had no children, but that didn't stop them from serving God. In fact, they found joy in taking care of the children at the orphanage homes, and at one time, they decided to adopt two kids, but they hadn't received the go-ahead yet. But they didn't stop praying over it for confirmation.

After six months of her demise, Mr Andrew decided to pick up his pieces and continued his service with God while also keeping the project going. "I will continue with this to make my wife proud," he said one day while going through their photo album.

One faithful morning, while he was praying and meditating on the Word of God, he heard a knock on his door. "Who is there? I need a few minutes, please," he loudly said as his principle was never to leave his prayer for anything until he was done.

"Alright, sir. But you have a visitor. He's waiting for you," the voice said and walked away.

It took Mr Andrew another twenty minutes to round up his prayer. "I hope whoever is waiting for me would wait," he gently whispered as he dashed into the bathroom to wash off his face and get changed into other clothes.

"Hello, young man. What can I do for you?" He said, smiling as he approached the man, bringing out his hand for a shake.

"Good morning, Mr Andrew. Pleased to meet you," the man said as he adjusted his collar and suit.

"I'm sorry, but I don't seem to remember you," Mr Andrew replied politely, still holding on to the man's hand.

"My name is Stephen Roy," he said as he released the handshake. "I work with the Ministry of Social Welfare."

Mr Andrew adjusted himself and sat down, pointing to the sofa opposite him for him to sit. "To what do I owe this visit?"

Stephen cleared his throat and brought out a file from his briefcase. "A report came in to our office concerning the orphanage homes you've been supporting for years. Particularly the one at Saint Hill."

Mr Andrew nodded slowly, "Yes, I visited there last week."

"There was an incident," Stephen continued, as he tried not to disclose too many details. "Five children were rushed to the hospital hours after a meal was served."

Mr Andrew's heart raced, "Are they alright?"

"Yes, they survived, but some findings were done, and they suggested food contamination."

Suddenly, Mr Andrew felt some heat from nowhere and without realising it, he stood up. "Contamination?" he repeated.

"It was said that you personally supervised the donation that day, and witnesses said you insisted the children eat before evening prayers," Stephen said, flipping open the file.

"That's true," Mr Andrew replied slowly and continued, "But I've done that countless times. That wasn't the first time," trying to defend himself.

Stephen closed the file and stood up. "Sir, some believed you did that on purpose."

Suddenly, there was silence in the room.

"That's impossible," Mr Andrew said calmly. "Why would I do that? I would never harm those children. They are precious to me."

"Sir, with all due respect, people are concerned. They said since your wife died, you've changed. Some think grief may have affected your judgment."

"No, I am very well. I am stable, and I've moved on after the incident. Besides, I found joy in donating to the orphanage homes. Why are you all putting up with something I know nothing about?" Mr Andrew said as he became restless.

Mr Stephen left calmly, only to return two days later with the police.

When Officer John put the handcuffs around his wrists in the presence of everyone, Mr Andrew did not resist.

"I am not crazy," he said quietly as he was led out. But no one listened to him.

At the station, a series of questions was thrown at him, leaving him no chance to speak. “Why did you try to kill the children?” “What did they do to you?” “How did your wife die?” “What was the cause of her death?”

He just bowed his head. He felt deserted and hopeless.

"I am not crazy," Mr Andrew kept repeating the same thing. "I only donated. That is all."

As he sat alone in the cell that evening, Mr Andrew bowed his head and said a prayer.

"Lord, you know the truth. I know I am not crazy, even if the world calls me that. I trust you to fight for me and clear this mess I am in."

A few days later, he was found innocent. They pleaded and escorted him home in the police van. That same day, the orphanage home came to apologise for the wrong accusation, but that didn't stop him from donating. He'd just won the victory, and he wasn't crazy after all.

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