This requires an explanation. I was whining to Snoink over MSN, and she gave me this horrible picture prompt and said, "If you don't have 500 words by the end of the night, I'll be spam PMing you with 'You suck' and other things like that."
I took that challenge, and this is the result. It probably sucks.
Word Count: 1,808. HAH. Beat that, Snoink!
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Llama Boy
When the new boy rolled through the doorway, the first thing Jessie Adams whispered was, “What a freak!” Luckily, Mrs. Hamilton didn’t hear him, or he would’ve been in for it.
The new boy’s mother was pushing him in his wheelchair. The class stared at him, disbelieving their eyes. The mother halted the chair up in the front of the class, right beside Mrs. Hamilton’s desk.
“We have a new student,” she said. “His name is Rylee Partridge. Class, say hello.”
“Hello,” the class recited, a little too hesitantly.
The boy up in the front of the room opened his mouth, and a tiny squeak came out. Two girls giggled.
“He says he’s very pleased to meet all of you,” the boy’s mother said, patting Rylee’s shoulder. “Rylee was born with a mental condition, and he never learned how to form words into sentences.”
“Then how can you tell what he says?” Clarissa, one of the girls that had giggled, asked. Mrs. Hamilton frowned and glared at her, her eyes glowering behind her horn-rimmed glasses.
“I’ve lived with him all his life,” Rylee’s mother said. “I just can.”
The boy opened his mouth again, and a tiny squeak came out.
“He’s wondering if he can be all of your friends,” his mother asked. “He loves friends. In his last school, he didn’t have very many. He’s looking forward to meeting some of you.”
Jessie Adams smirked and looked at his best friend across the room. His friend, Chad, smirked back. He wasn’t just a freak.
He was a retard.
Jessie felt a twinge of guilt as he thought that word. His mom and dad had told him never ever ever call someone that. It was the worst bad word that ever was. And still, he felt justified when he called Rylee a retard. That’s what he was, wasn’t he? His mom basically told the class he was retarded.
(retard, retard, everyone look at the retard)
Rylee’s eyes stared at Jessie. Big, monstrously beautiful blue eyes. Jessie shrunk down into his plastic seat. His eyes seemed to glow from somewhere deep inside him. The more Jessie stared into it, the more he could almost—
No. Was he crazy? You can’t see into someone’s soul. It’s impossible. And besides, this boy was a freak and retard.
“And I’m sure he’ll make plenty of friends,” Mrs. Hamilton said, smiling. “Rylee, you will sit right in front of my desk.” She pointed to an open desk; she had taken the chair away from it so Rylee could remain in his wheelchair.
[Thank you, Mrs. Hamilton.]
Mrs. Hamilton’s jaw dropped instantly. The voice had suddenly crawled into her head like someone would in a bed. It slipped into her mind. A single thought; a phrase. Four distinct words, and still she knew exactly whom had said them. She stared at Rylee for a moment, who stretched his mouth wide enough to show his crooked teeth.
Rylee’s mother wheeled him over to his desk, and took some books out of the bag she was carrying with her. She laid them on his desk and patted his hand gently. She stared into his eyes for a brief moment, as if she was listening to something.
His thoughts? Mrs. Hamilton thought to herself. Isn’t that what I heard? As crazy as it sounds, I really do think I heard his thoughts.
His mother nodded to Mrs. Hamilton and walked out of the classroom, whistling.
Gawking like a schoolgirl at the boy for a moment longer, Mrs. Hamilton noticed there was something in his eyes that made it almost impossible to look away.
[What are you looking at, Mrs. Hamilton?]
There! There it was again! Her mouth dropped slightly, and she thought, What’s happening to me?
The boy looked away from her, and cocked his head around. He glanced around the classroom, and cracked a smile—or as close to a smile as he could. Some of the children looked around at each other nervously.
Rylee faced the front of the classroom again and let out a quiet sigh. His face, which had not even a moment ago been bright and cheery, was now sad and depressed.
What’s wrong, Rylee?
[This school is no different. They all think I’m a Freak. That was the first nickname I was ever given, you know? Freak. My older brothers thought I was a Freak. My dad did too. That’s why he left, you know? My mom… well… I can’t read her very well.]
Read her?
[Yeah. That’s what makes me a Freak. I can read people. Like I’m reading you now. It’s like I’m reading my favorite book. I can just do it, without ever being taught. Mommy can read me too. So can you. We are all Freaks, you know?]
“Mrs. Hamilton?” someone in the class asked, but she didn’t look up from Rylee’s eyes.
How is this happening? I’ve never experienced anything like this before.
[Have you ever listened to someone? Truly listened to what they were saying? Words don’t need to be spoken to hear what people have to say.]
“Mrs. Hamilton, are you okay? You look like you’re about to faint!” This time, she took her eyes off Rylee and glanced up into the classroom. The children were staring at her like she had some kind of flesh eating disease. She glanced up at the clock and noticed the bell for recess was almost about to ring. Excusing the children three minutes early—
“Hurray!” they shouted as they ran out the door.
--she turned back to Rylee.
“I’m afraid I don’t quite follow you,” she said, out loud this time.
[I know you don’t. Mom didn’t either, until we both found each other. Have you ever found someone before, Mrs. Hamilton?]
“Excuse me?”
[That’s what Mom and I call it. Finding someone is like finding a buried treasure somewhere in another person’s heart. It takes a lot of courage to do it. When I first found Mom, I knew we would never be the same. We knew each other like we had never before. We knew all of our secrets. I knew the way she worked, and she knew how I worked.
Mrs. Hamilton, am I a retard?]
This question caught her off guard. “Heavens no!” she replied. “Why in the world would you think that?”
[It’s just something I heard someone call me. Oh well. I’ve been called a bunch of things before. After a while, you’d think you’d get used to it. But you don’t. You never really get used to name calling. You want to know what my favorite one is? Llama Boy. That’s what this one bully in my last school used to call me. It’s because of my face. The way it’s shaped. I don’t think I look like a llama. Do you?]
“No!” Mrs. Hamilton said, staring into his deep, blue eyes. “Not at all! Whoever called you that was a heartless—”
[Other people don’t see who I really am. All they see is me on the outside. It’s like a prison, you know? I’m trapped in this body that can’t move, can’t walk. I can barely talk. They don’t know who I really am. And it hurts me to read people who think I’m a retard and a Freak. It’s sad that people can’t look past this prison I’m in. Only we can. You, Mom and I. We’re the only ones that can read each other.]
“I—I’m completely speechless. I don’t see how this is possible!” Rylee’s face drooped again, like a wilted flower.
[No, I didn’t expect you to. I thought that it would be a miracle if I could meet another Reader. And it has been. It’s a modern day miracle, like those ones that Jesus did in the Bible. Have you ever read the Bible, Mrs. Hamilton?]
“Yes,” she replied. “Yes, I have. A few times, actually.”
[Do you believe everything it says? Do you really think Jesus raised the people from the dead? Do you really think that he could make people talk who couldn’t talk before?]
“I believe he did all the things written in the Bible.”
[I do too. Do you think, if Jesus were here right now, he would fix my body?]
Mrs. Hamilton’s bottom lip trembled slightly, and she sniffed. “Yes, I really do. I believe that by having this conversation with you right now, Jesus is performing a miracle.”
[Yeah, me too.]
They sat in silence for a few, long minutes. Mrs. Hamilton broke it.
“Have you always been able to read people?”
[Yeah. Since I was born. I always thought that everyone could do it, until I learned that my brothers couldn’t talk back to me like you and Mom can. I could read them, but they couldn’t read me. That’s what makes us Freaks, right? There are only a few of us that can read each other. We’re a bunch of Freaks. But not you, Mrs. Hamilton. I don’t think that you’re a Freak. You’re a really nice lady.]
“I don’t think that anyone in this world is a Freak.”
Rylee’s eyes lit up momentarily.
[Really? Do you really, honestly believe that?]
“Honest to God. I believe that everyone is special in their own way. We shouldn’t judge who we see on the outside, because that isn’t who the person really is.”
[Yeah. That’s the way everyone should look at each other. It only makes the other person feel bad when you think they are a Freak or a retard. Because everyone is the same on the inside. We all have souls, and they are all beautiful, even if our bodies aren’t.]
“Yes; yes, I believe that is the way God wanted us all to look at things. Rylee, I haven’t known you for a half hour, yet you have changed my life in so many ways.” Mrs. Hamilton’s voice was beginning to shake, like an earthquake.
[You have changed mine too. Thank you. Can I go to recess now?]
Mrs. Hamilton suddenly burst out laughing, and Rylee cracked one of his miniature smiles.
“Yes, go have fun. I’ll talk to you later.”
[Most definitely.]
Using all the strength he could muster, Rylee wheeled himself out of the classroom. Just before he left, he turned around and winked at Mrs. Hamilton. She had never felt so complete in her life, and for once, she was grateful for everything in the world, from the apple that was sitting on her desk, to the blinds the covered her windows. She was grateful for the children swinging in the swings outside, and the birds chirping in the trees.
But most of all, she was thankful for the short time she spent talking to a fellow Reader, and learning what the greatest truths life has to offer.
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Ugly picture prompt:
