The Girl With The Missing Arm {on hold}

:04

"FIRST WE'LL START  you off with these kinds of books." Mrs. Johnson states as she hands me an array of Junie B. Jones and Bailey school kids books. I pick one of them up with the title 'Ninjas Don't Bake Pumpkin Pie' as I stare at her incredulously.

"I talked to your mother and previous therapist. They told me encouraging you to read books from your childhood might help increase the chance of you reading better. It'll jog your memory faster."

"When did you talk to my therapist?" I ask in surprise. Back in New York my mom paid this therapist way too much money to help me with my reading and writing, and help me get adjusted to doing things without the use of my right arm. At that time I was so depressed I refused to cooperate, instead spending the over fifty dollar sessions with my head basically in my lap. And on top of that she made me see another physiological therapist to help me with my emotional state. Oh the horrors.

"It was actually during the end of the summer before you even moved here. We had a long discussion of what we were going to do with you." She replies.

"What you all are were going to do with me?" I repeat. I don't like that statement, like I'm some burden that needs to be taken care of.

She notices my tone and her smile falters. "I didn't mean it that way. We were just discussing which best way to approach your problem and help you overcome it. I know you still want to go to college. This will help. Just trust me please."

I sigh in defeat. She doesn't know that I really don't want to go to college anymore. College is just a happy thought that I once relished in talking about to everyone and anyone. I wanted to go to Juliard and be a flutist in an orchestra that travels around the world for a living, but I can't actually play the flute with one hand.

"Okay I'll try." I reluctantly agree.

Her smile immediately surfaces again. "I also got you these. It will help with your writing." She hands me a kindergarten book used for tracing your alphabets.

"Just keep on practicing these over and over again till you see improvement. I promise it'll help."

She squeezes my shoulder and sends me a warm smile but her eyes are serious and earnest. "I believe in you Noah."

Before I can utter another word she turns to the class. "Independent reading time everyone! Pull out your class books, if you need help on something raise your hand." With that she goes to her own desk and pulls out a book for herself.

I notice Natalie get out a thick Harry Potter chapter book that has to be on at least an eight grade level. I then look back down at my own books and a tinge of jealousy hits me, but it quickly subsides when I see Jaerra and Noelle both pull out Sam books.
At least I'm not on that level. William doesn't even get out a book, he just continues to growl lowly while staring vacantly at his desk.

Natalie notices me staring and whispers towards me. "He can't read or write. Or do anything but growl and smile for that matter. He's dumb as rocks."

"You shouldn't say that that's mean." I quietly reply somewhat hypocritically, because as I recall just two days ago I call them "retards" which is just as worst as what Natalie said.

"It's not mean if it's true. I'm 1/4 as dumb as a bag of rocks. I ain't ashamed." She laughs and I have to find myself stifling a laugh too.

Mrs. Johnson sees us and raises an eyebrow. "Girls you need to read." She commands firmly but there's a hint of a a smile that never seems to go away. Even when she's not smiling it's always there lurking behind the surface ready to reappear with just a small rise in her facial muscles.