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She still has not provided a name for herself; nor has she accepted “Alice.” This is a task that requires more work. A name is integral to developing a sense of self.
I am not making much progress on her past life. Obviously, until she can communicate more fully, there can be little discovery of her memories, but I am patient. For now, I am her teacher. It is a surprisingly rewarding endeavor.
Julia scratched out the last two sentences as too personal, then put her pen down.
Alice was at the table, “reading” a picture-book version of The Velveteen Rabbit. She hadn’t moved in almost an hour. She appeared spellbound.
Julia put her notebook away and went to the table. She sat down beside Alice, who immediately took hold of her hand, squeezing it hard. With her free hand she pointed to the book and grunted.
“Use your words, Alice.”
“Read.”
“Read what?”
“Boo.”
“Who wants me to read?”
Alice frowned heavily. “Girl?”
“Alice,” Julia said gently. She had spent the better part of two weeks trying to get Alice to reveal her real name. With each passing day, however, and each instance of the girl’s innate intelligence being shown, Julia was increasingly certain that whoever this girl really was, she didn’t remember—or had never known—her real name. Whenever Julia thought about that, it devastated her. It had to mean that, at least in the formative years, after about eighteen months to two years, no one had called this child by name.
“Alice.” She said it gently. “Does Alice want Julia to read the book?”
Alice thumped the book with her palm, nodding and smiling. “Read. Girl.”
“I’ll tell you what. If you play with the blocks for a few minutes, I’ll read to you. Okay?”
Alice made a disappointed face.
“I know.” Smiling, Julia bent down and retrieved her box of blocks. She set them out on the table, arranging them carefully. They were big plastic blocks with numbers on one side and letters on the other. Often she used them to teach Alice the alphabet, but today they were going to count. “Take the block that has the number one on it. One.”
Alice immediately grabbed the single red block and pulled it toward her.
“Good girl. Now the number four.”
They kept at the counting for almost an hour. Alice’s progress was nothing short of amazing. In less than two weeks she’d memorized all the numbers up to fifteen. Rarely did she make a mistake.
But by three o’clock she was getting cranky and tired. It was nearing nap time. She smacked the book again. “Read.”
“Okay, okay.” Julia leaned over and pulled Alice into her lap. She held her tightly, smoothing the silky black hair from her face. Finally, Alice popped her thumb in her mouth and waited.
Julia started to read. She had only gotten through the first paragraph when Alice tensed and let out a low growl.
A moment later there was a knock at the door.
Alice growled again, then stopped herself, as if remembering that this was a word world. “Scared,” she whispered.
“I know, honey.”
Ellie opened the door and stepped into the room.
Alice made a strangled sound, slid out of Julia’s lap, and ran over to her hiding place in the potted plants.
Ellie sighed. “Is she ever going to stop being afraid of me?”
Julia smiled. “Give her time.”
