The Gong and Quiet

Where I lived when I was five will always stay with me. The biggest memory I have is of this enormous gong, just hanging next to these old brick walls near the alley. I asked and asked who it belonged to, why it was there, and if I could ring it, but my parents never answered any of it. They rarely understood what I was saying, and they usually wrote it off as childish imagination. No matter how close we got to the darn thing, I never had the bravery to run up to it and slap the thin sheet metal, even though it was unguarded and waiting. I've asked them years later about it, and they still act as though they never saw the thing. I've even gone to music stores and asked if they had any MTA gongs there, and I always got the same response of there's no such thing. I'm still hopeful in finding it someday, and although I wouldn't be able to hear it, I'd love to feel it pulse after I walloped it a good one.