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“Don’t say something you can’t possibly live up to.”
“I won’t let you down, Asia.I promise. Please, take those,” he says, pointing to the items on his desk.
I shake my head. “Gifts are superficial. Promises are breakable. Anyone can say they care. Many people have ‘cared’ for me over the years and all of them bar a couple have hurt me.”
“Then what can I do?”
I think of my mother’s actions, how she chose heroin over me. I learnt from a young age that her love for heroin was more than her love for me. She couldn’t fight her addiction because I wasn’t enough to fight for. I think of Eastern and his actions, how he chose to run drugs for his mum and Braydon because he loved them enough to ruin his own life to support them. I think of Sonny and Ford and how both stood up to Monk for my honour; Ford on the sports field and Sonny in the Tower. Words might be beautiful. They might bring life to a story or a poem, creating something magical, powerful, unforgettable, but they only reveal the truth of someone’smind. Actions have the power to show the truth of someone’s heart and that, that is whatItrust.
“Actions speak louder than words, Mr Burnside. On the street every action has a reaction, a consequence for kids like us. Rightly or wrongly, we live and we die by the choices we make, and the actions we take. Can you say the same?”
Mr Burnside is silent for a long time, then he stands too. There’s a determined look on his face, one that I appreciate. This man is not a quitter. He won’t give up. I like that. Both he and his partner, Mr Carmichael, seem like good men. Then again, I’ve met lots of people who pretended to be good and weren’t. See,actions.
“You’re right, Asia. Actions do speak louder than words. So, here’s my first action; I will stop deducting credits for those who refuse to share their stories in the joint therapy sessions I take. I will let everyone sit in silence if that’s what they choose. I willonlyinsist on attendance, even if no one participates. I will also give back the deducted credits. How does that sound?”
“It’s a start…”
He nods. “Good. I can build on that. Same time next week?”
“Same time next week,” I respond, heading towards the door.
“Oh, and Asia…”
“Yes?” I look over my shoulder at him.
“I disagree with one thing,” he says.
“And what’s that?”
“Words do have meaning when they’re spoken from the heart. Don’t discount them completely.”
“I’ll think about it,” I concede, pulling open the door and shutting it behind me. But he’s wrong. Words are just that, words. They mean nothing unless they’re backed up with action.
