Part 4 (2/2)

She eyes her food, but then looks back at her lap.

”Come on. Really. I don't bite.” I try to keep my voice sincere; my intent really isn't to be obnoxious and annoy her.

Her lip quirks, but she doesn't move forward. Instead, she remains with her back up against the other table and stares at her hands on her lap.

I don't continue to stare at her; that would just be rude. So I return to finis.h.i.+ng the lunch on my tray and try to come up with something I can say that would make her smile. My brain comes up empty.

”Hey, Ben.” I hear his joyful voice across the room. If he could move his limbs, I'm sure his arm would be waving wildly.

”Johnny. Dude.”

He maneuvers his chair by blowing into a straw-like tube and makes his way over to me. With a heavy breath, he says, ”Mind if I eat here?”

”No, dude, be my guest.”

”And you don't mind my being spoon-fed like a baby?”

”Cut the s.h.i.+t. You know I don't.”

”Just thought after you saw it once, you might've, maybe, got repulsed by me.”

”Right. Johnny, this is Rose,” I say, nodding my head in her direction. ”Rose, this is Johnny.”

Rose's eyes rise, but she doesn't lift her head.

”Hey, Rose. Nice to meet you.”

Johnny looks at her, waiting for a reaction, then he looks at me. ”The girl who doesn't talk, right?” he whispers unsuccessfully.

I roll my eyes, but out of the corner of one, I see her grimace.

”And he's the boy who can't move,” I say jokingly to Rose.

”He's got that right,” Johnny says, chuckling, still waiting for a reaction from our mute friend.

”So, how's therapy going?”

”Eh. Same ol'. Someone else moving my legs for me and s.h.i.+t.”

I just nod, because, yeah...that sucks.

”It's all part of the game, Ben. Gotta have faith, right?”

Again, I nod, but this time I try to say something encouraging. ”Gotta have faith, man. You'll be fixing your mom's gutters again in no time.” I just wish I could believe that for him. But he does, and maybe that's all it takes for him to actually do it.

”d.a.m.n right I'll be up there. Mom's got no one. She counts on me.”

I take a bite of my sandwich, but when I look up, Johnny's got that frown again. Though he swipes it away when he sees me notice.

”Hey, Marti's here.” Johnny greets his female aide, with the male name, with a smile.

”Hungry?” Marti puts his tray down and takes the seat next to him.

”You know it.”

All the while Marti feeds Johnny, he keeps up conversation, and it occurs to me that maybe his act is just that. It's starting to feel forced, and I'm wondering if he really doesn't believe he'll get better. For his sake, I hope he does.

And all the while Marti is feeding Johnny and Johnny is chatting in between mouthfuls, Rose is watching. Not noticeably, but when she doesn't realize I'm looking at her, I see it. What I'm getting is that she's amazed at Johnny's ability to be happy despite his condition. I could be wrong. Chances are I am. But as I've said before, the mind intrigues me, and so does Rose.

A few moments later, Rose's therapist or nurse, one or the other, pulls up a chair next to Rose. I try not to pay attention, trying hard to focus on Johnny, but paying attention to him is just as awkward since when he's not talking, his aide is spooning food into his mouth, so I stand to get myself something from the refrigerator. When I return to the table, Rose is pushed up against it, and the woman is gently reprimanding her. Again, I'm uncomfortable sitting down while she's telling Rose she needs to eat if she wants to recover effectively, but it'd look more obvious if I walked away from the table again. So I sit and concentrate on eating my pudding. And, of course, I got three of them. One for Johnny, and one for Rose.

”Hey, thanks, Ben,” Johnny says, his voice genuinely happy. ”You mind feeding me this?” he asks his aide.

”Course not.”

When Rose's nurse, or whatever she is, walks away, I place the chocolate pudding on her tray and give her nothing but a smile to go with it. There are a million things I'd like to say to this lost girl, but she's already so timid, and I don't want to scare her away.

”If you're not gonna eat that pudding,” Johnny says, looking at Rose's untouched tray, ”I'll take it.”

It's humorous when Rose narrows her eyes just slightly. I can't read her mind, but I think Johnny throws her off. She doesn't know what to make of him just yet.

”Or I can lend you Marti here,” he continues, referring to his lunch aide, ”if you're having trouble eating by yourself.”

I pull in my lips to stifle a laugh, because, well, that was funny, but my guess is Rose probably won't think so, and looking at her suddenly blus.h.i.+ng face, I've guessed right. In fact, she looks embarra.s.sed, and a couple seconds later, she reaches for her orange juice and takes a sip. Seeing this, I pick up her pudding, remove the foil lid, and put it in front of her. Sticking a spoon in it, I say, ”The chocolate pudding is outta this world.” And then in a softer voice, ”If you're in to processed milk-type products.”

Her chest moves. A silent laugh. But she takes the pudding cup and holds it between her hands. With a sigh, she looks down at it. Contemplatively. If I could just get inside her mind...maybe I could make her see how this doesn't have to be the end of her world. Then again, how would I know? I'm just a kid studying psychology. I still have a whole mountain of things to learn.

While Rose fights with the dilemma of whether or not to actually eat in front of us, I see her nurse walk in with another woman. In about six steps, they're at Rose's side, and Rose's eyes grow wide when she sees them. Well, when she sees the other woman. Rose's eyes tear up and the woman bends down to hug her. ”Oh, Rosie. Oh, baby.”

”Rose,” the nurse woman says. ”We'll push back your therapy for an hour. Let your mom sit with you a while.”

The woman Rose's mom, I guess stands to thank the nurse. ”Thank you, Nina. I won't stay long, I just miss my baby.”

”Sure.”

When Rose's mom spots Johnny, his aide, and me, she nods and says h.e.l.lo. We greet her back and then she says to Rose, ”You mind if we sit over there?” she asks, pointing to the black leather couch area.

Very subtly, Rose shakes her head to the right and back, and her mother pulls her away from the table. After they leave, Johnny asks, ”Why doesn't she talk? Is she unable to?”

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