Page 63 of The Truth About You and Me
‘That’s it for the reading for now. Over the next few weeks we’re going to move on to more two-letter graphemes. I’ve got some nice tricks up my sleeves for those!’ He stops, narrowing his eyes in concentration. ‘You don’t have a heart condition or a pacemaker, do you?’
‘What? No.’
‘Excellent, excellent.’
‘Dare I ask why?’
‘Just a little idea I had – you know those buzzers that clowns use?’
‘You want to electrocute me?’
‘No!’
‘Phew.’
‘It’s a little static shock, that’s all.’
I have no idea if he’s joking or is actually serious. He shuffles the file of papers away and lands a blank piece of lined paper in front of me.
‘Now… I want you to write a letter.’
I frown. I’m exhausted but I take the pen and paper. ‘What do you want me to write?’
‘What doyouwant to write? Go with the first thing that pops into your head.’
Maggie’s face as she said goodbye. He must see something cross my face because his voice softens. ‘I’m not going to read it, Jack, it’s just for you. Think of the exercises we’ve been doing and let me know if the process has changed. It’s to stretch that link between reading and writing.’
The pen hits the paper, my hands forming letters and punctuation. I know when to move to a new paragraph, when to leave a space.
‘Dear Ma—’ I stop, look up. ‘I taste lemon.’
He nods, a slow smile popping a dimple beneath his beard, then moves away to the back of the room.
Dear Maggie,
My hand stills. This feels too big. Simply writing her name is making me admit that I’m not ready to let her go.Ifand this is a bigif, she was telling the truth… how would she be feeling about the way I left things?
I have no idea if any of this will make sense on the page, but I’m hoping that Dr Levin is right and that all of these words are somehow buried deep inside my cortex.
I look over to the window, a siren going off in the distance. My senses jolt, the scar at the back of my head pulses. The words on the page are meaningless when I look back at them. The taste of lemon has gone. I rub my forehead, another headache beginning to form.
‘That’ll do for today.’
‘I haven’t finished…’ I can hear the frustration in my voice.
‘You can finish it on your own. It’s lunchtime.’
‘Oh. OK.’ I fold the paper.
‘Same time?’
‘Um. Yeah. I’ll be here.’ I pull on my coat and head towards the door.
‘Jack?’
‘Hmmm?’ I zip up my coat.
‘Whoever Maggie is? Tell her you miss her. Life is too short and you never know when it can be taken away from you.’
