“Is there any chance in hell you think I’ll love reading this?”
"Nope," I answered promptly.
"…oh?" Then why did I bring it for him, he clearly wondered.
“It’s not for you,” I explained. “I’m just your driver today, then I’ve got time to kill. I brought my own reading material.”
An incident with a driving simulator proved he couldn’t drive himself. We’d started preparing for Max’s eventual discharge, giving him a refresher course on everything he’d need to know as in adult in the world to see if anything jogged his memory or there were gaps in his knowledge that needed filling before he left. Things like renting an apartment, grocery shopping, managing money.
Max called all this his Being a Person lessons. He had a familiarity with everything—he hadn’t stopped to ask questions like ‘what’s a bank’ at any rate. But nothing struck a chord with him and there hadn’t been any muscle memory or greater familiarity for tasks like shaving or driving. Did amnesia cause that or had he been removed from society before the Brokers?
Frankly, Max baffled the hell out of me. But I tried to curb my natural overabundant curiosity and just be supportive and quietly confused and amazed by everything about him.
"Wait, hold on.” Max cleared his throat loudly and grabbed my attention, watching me skeptically with his hands on his hips. “You didn’t bring me a book?” He eyed me, trying to see if I hid a book somewhere on my body. “You haven’t brought me anything to read in a while."
For a very good reason. "You don’t like books."
Not denying the point, he only insisted, "I like when youbring mebooks."
"There’s other things I can bring you."
He shook his head. "But you get so excited when bringing me books."
"It’s not about me."
"Yes, it is, that’s the good part."
Huh?
Max grabbed something from his dresser and handed it to me. "Look, look at this."
The notebook he handed me had a title on the cover. Inside looked like a storybook with small written segments accompanied by illustrations. Some drawings were only rough sketches, others he’d had more time to illustrate and perfect.
On a page entitledlikes and dislikes, he had comic books and Disney movies underlikesand therapy and the guy at the end of his floor who always smelled like onions underdislikes.Another page he’d devoted to his favorite food, macaroni and cheese, partly because of the detailed drawing he’d made to practice his art skills.
"Max Facts?” I read the title again. “You wrote a book about yourself?"
"That sounds self-centered.” Max crossed his arms around his middle, a bit embarrassed. “I guess I did do just that, but there’s a reason. Aaron!”
"Okay? Continue."
"Aaron thought it would help me recognize my progress. A visual representation of everything I’ve learned so far."
Oh.
The slow nature of recovery often made Max restless. He didn’t like feeling stuck. This book proved he’d accomplished so much in a short time. It also probably gave him comfort. That if he forgot again, he’d have a place to consult and jog his memory.
My fingers itched to turn the pages but I drew back in time, giving him a questioning look. Max nodded, giving me permission to keep reading.
Before I could, he snatched the book out of my hands, flipped a few pages, and handed it back. Oh right, there’d been something he specifically wanted me to see first.
Max’s Favorite Things.He’d listed the top ten best things he’d discovered so far. Right there under freedom, the number two of his favorite things ever was ‘Lysander Temple bringing me books.’ I even beat comic books.
Watching Lysander geek out about books is so funny,he wrote.But he loves reading and he’s so excited to share his favorite stories and books he thinks I’ll like.
Huh, seeing it there. My name... This mattered to him a lot. I mattered. And that, how I felt about that… uh oh, the issue I couldn’t quite see, the problem lurking out there, it was coming together as the facts assembled themselves in my head.
When I did pick out books for him, I spent a stupidly long time thinking about what he might like. And when I wasn’t bringing him books, I still thought about him all the time.
