Read The Language Inside Online
Authors: Holly Thompson
I ask Zena if she has an incident poem
and she looks up
but then she points with her eyes
not at the letter board
but at what I realize is a screen
attached to her chair
and I move around so I can see it
and gasp to realize it’s a computer
with eye tracking? oh my God!
have you used it?
a l-i-t-t-l-e
she spells slowly
moving her eyes
blinking to select letters
on the screen
l-e-a-r-n-i-n-g
cool!
I say
but be patient, okay?
new computers can be a pain
and I’m sure this is way more complicated
Zena looks up
then Zena spells that she’s
t-i-r-e-d
and indicates she wants to use the letter board
so I follow the rows of colors
and write down her poem
picking up on the pattern
saving her having to spell
the same phrases over and over
Zena spells:
My Sister
my sister said isn’t she still in there?
the doctor said no
my sister said isn’t it possible her brain is fine?
the doctor said no
my sister said I think she’s crying
the doctor said no
my sister said I think she’s angry
the doctor said no
my sister said Zena’s in there, I know it
the doctor said no
but the OT said well, maybe she is
the OT said Zena, you look up when you mean yes, okay?
my sister said Zena, are you in there?
and I looked up and told her
yes
I read it aloud all the way through
look up
OT
on my cell phone
and skimming again
I feel my throat catch
Zena, is this true?
I whisper
Zena looks up
I say
what a sister
and that OT . . .
man, they were definitely your angels!
and Zena looks up
I read it aloud again
and tell her I’ll type it up
for her
then I take out the two poems I found online
just before Samnang picked me up
one, by a Kaylin Haught
which now seems even more appropriate
about God saying yes
to this girl about things like
wearing nail polish
and being short
all in this hilarious voice
that Zena loves
and another poem
that I read aloud twice
about a person painting a room
before leaving one country
to start a new life in another country
in the poem
there’s a window
that seems to represent promise
or possibility
and I tell Zena I like that part the best
and I thought we could write poems about
what we’d like to see through a window
I do what Mr. Hays used to do
when he gave us writing prompts
and suggest we just think
for a few minutes
and while we do
I stare out her window
to a band of sky
above tops of bare trees
behind renovated mills
and think
of what I’d like to see out that window—
the silhouette of Mount Fuji
as the sun slides into it
like a coin into a bank
the way we’d see it from the
seawall at the marina
while
Yuyake koyake
chimes
on the loudspeakers
tell kids it’s time to go home
then I’m thinking of what I’d like to see
from Madoka’s grandparents’ windows
trees with new green
garden walls repaired
piles of debris
gone
and my thoughts jump around
from Kamakura
to Tohoku
to my mother
to Samnang
and Serey . . .
then I ask Zena if she’s ready and she looks up
so I start listing the colors and letters
and she begins to spell her poem idea
Zena spells:
What I See
the window
frames a view:
young woman
with husband
two small children
flanking them
an older man and woman
proud grandparents
all posing for a photograph
she stops
I say
is that the end?
and she looks up
I’m reading it over again
then notice she’s staring at the letter board
so I put my finger to it and say the colors
she spells
y-o-u-n-g w-o-m-a-n i-s u
me?
I say
and then I get it—
the future
the far future
with my mother in it
and I nod and smile
well, then who’s my husband?
s-e-c-r-e-t
Zena spells
and growls with her
mouth wide