| I hadn�t spoken a word in three years, ever since my dad died. My psychiatrists said that my heart was grieving but that my mind wanted to get him back for hurting me. I think that when he died my brain shut down and when it rebooted, some files were lost. All I knew was that I couldn�t talk and I honestly had no urge to. After two years with a psychiatrist the obviously wasn�t making any difference, my mom found out about a psychiatrist in Tulsa, Oklahoma who specialized in the loss of speech resulting from traumatic events. As a result we moved from Braxby, Kentucky to Tulsa. Our next-door neighbors were pre-informed of my condition and rose to the occasion. Now I was going to be forced to sit through a party and treated like a retard by people who thought they were being nice, but in reality they hurt me every time they tried to talk to me or fidgeted nervously. Before going, I grabbed my notebook and pen so that when they did finally give up (they all do) I�d have something to do to keep me entertained. Then I reluctantly followed my mom next-door. �There is a lot of no trespassing signs�must be Hanson� I thought. I didn�t freak or anything. I just came to that conclusion. Weird thought for someone who usually didn�t think that way, but my guess was proven correct when Isaac answered the door followed by his mom, Diana. �Hey! Come on in!� Diana said cheerily. My mom smiled and walked in, I followed behind awkwardly closing the door behind me. Diana assembled the �troop� and began to introduce each one. I smiled at them all and they seemed very surprised that I used facial expression, all except Zac, who smiled back instantaneously. For 10 minutes we sat in the family room munching chips and talking. Me, of course, I just sat and watched the conversation thinking of what my response would have been to each comment. Somehow we got on the subject of music. �I�m not that fond of country.� Taylor said when the subject was brought up, �It�s too whiny and �oh-I�ve-lost-you� for me.� I shook my head vigorously at this but nobody noticed. Country was not all like that. There were many songs that had a good meaning and not the typical break-up line. But what did it matter? People couldn�t listen to someone who couldn�t voice their opinion. After about 5 minutes, everybody but Zac and I had drizzled out of the room to go occupy themselves elsewhere. Zac and I were next to each other on the couch, so when everybody left I scooted over and opened up my notebook. Then I started to write. My response to the conversation I just watched at the Hanson�s household: Country is not whiny. There are many songs that have good meaning� Just like �With You in Your Dreams.� You�ve obviously only listened to country during country gold Saturday night. Even I can�t stand the whining during that section. But judging country on that one section is like saying all boy bands can�t play instruments, thus dissing Hanson. *Sigh* if only I could express these opinions. I must say that Zac has the record for putting up with me. If I'm not mistaken he�s still in here� �Yup, I am. And I'm not planning on leaving until you and I get to know each other.� Zac said. I wrote �How?� �By doing exactly what you�re doing. I�ll ask a question, you write the answer and then I�ll tell you my answer.� �Okay�shoot.� I wrote �What�s your name, how old are you, and what are some of your favorite things to do?� �Okay... I must say you�re different then everyone else. Here goes. My name is Melinda, I don�t have a nickname because nobody every talks to me for more then 5 minutes. I�m 14, almost 15. I love to write and read. I used to sing before�well, before. I played the cello as a secondary musical talent, but now that I can�t sing, it�s my one musical talent. What about you, Mr. I�m-A-Famous-Rock-Star?� My pen flew across the page as I answered his barrage of questions. When I was done, I handed the notepad to him. �Well, my name is Zachary, but people scream Zac. I am 16, nearly 17. Whoa, I�m old. I like to sing, obviously, and I play the drums and assorted other instruments.� He mentally ran through his questions, and finding them all answered he turned back to me. �Will you play the cello for me?� I nodded and then stood to go to the door. As we reached it, Zac turned around and yelled, �Mina and I are going over to her house, Mom!� Then he opened the door, walked out and gestured for me to walk out. I curtsied and walked out, smiling largely. I had a nickname�wow. We trekked back to my house in comfortable silence while I tried to think of what I would play. Finally I decided on something classic. Maybe a bit of Beethoven�s fifth or sixth. We walked in and I got my cello out while Zac sat in the living room to wait. I carried over my cello and a seat. Sitting down, I checked my bow for rosin, adjusted my endpin, took a breath, and began to play. I had forgotten some parts and without the music, I had to cut out a lot. All in all, the 5 minute performance must have been great because Zac gave me a standing ovation. �Thank you, Thank you!� I mouthed standing up and giving a bow. Then I lovingly put up my cello and bow, making sure that no rosin was left on the cello. Zac grinned and said, �Hey, do you have a computer?� I nodded. �Can we get on it?� I nodded again. �C�mon, show me where it is!� He said gesturing. I dragged him up to my room where I had previously set up my computer. He sat down, brought up AIM and added a buddy to my buddy list. �This is me. That way we can have less awkward conversations, okay?� I grinned and nodded. Finally, someone wanted to talk to me. What will happen? Will Mina ever talk again? What color is her hair? :) These questions and more answered next installment of............... |
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| The Value of a Word Installment 2 |