Just thought up this now! …Why does the first line always repeat itself?
--
I remember whenever I was going out Grandma would always say to me:
"Mind your manners
Don't dirty your clothes
Have fun
And don't talk to strangers"
I don't know why she said that, because she knew I wouldn't. Talk to strangers, I mean. There's a good reason for that, but it's not the fact that there aren't any strangers on Outset Island. It's something else.
I don't talk.
Never have. And I don't know if I ever will. It's not that I can't, I just choose not to. I'm sure I have a voice… somewhere. I still laugh when I'm happy, scream when I'm hurt, whimper when I'm ill… Cry when I'm sad. I have a voice. I just don't know how to use it.
The odd thing is, I never noticed that I was different. Growing up on Outset Island, where everyone knew everyone, nobody said anything about my voice, or lack thereof. Grandma and I had devised a way of communicating through sign language. Aryll knew it too. And the other islanders were happy enough just chatting away, with me listening and throwing in a nod and smile every now and then. They knew I wasn't stupid. I was just…quiet.
Nobody ever told me there was something wrong with me. So when Tetra and her crew exploded into my life, when Gonzo had snorted and asked right to my face just what the heck was wrong with me, and was I deaf or just to stupid to know how to talk… It was like a slap to the face. Like someone had thrown a bucket of icy water over me.
I couldn't stop shaking, I felt so cold. The world was spinning- I had to sit down. Tetra got angry. Not with me, with Gonzo. She started shouting really loudly, but I couldn't make out what she was saying. How could I have been so… so blind?
Everything in my life suddenly made sense. The voices that hushed when I came into earshot, little kids that stared a bit too long, smiles that were nothing short of confused or sympathetic. It even went back to when I was as young as four, when my own Father would looks anxiously from Aryll, sleeping in her cot, to me. I'd never understood why, but now I did. He was worried she'd turn out like me.
When on my travels I would see people chatting happily, laughing at their own private jokes, while all I could do was simply nod, shrug and shake my head. It made me feel so stupid. It made me feel like a freak.
They called me a hero- what sort of hero was I? Just a boy would couldn't talk. I've had so many adventures. I seen things other people could only have dreamed of. I should be grateful. I'm lucky.
But still, whenever I see friends laughing or young children sharing a secret, I can't help my head screaming: It's so unfair!
I had a voice. Why couldn't I make it work? Why? It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair.
--
I clenched my teeth and narrowed my eyes at the scroll that lay on my lap.
You can do this. Focus.
I shifted under the blankets. It was late. Ciela was asleep, Linebeck too. That was good- I only ever practised at night anyway. I held the small lamp to the scroll to lift the darkness from the page. On it was written the alphabet in two rows, one of them beautifully crafted, the one below much, much less so. No prizes for guessing which one was mine. I had stumbled upon the scroll by accident, shortly after I'd met Ciela. When we sneaked into Oshus' storehouse to recover the sword, it was in there too. I just took it without thinking. I got a terrible attack of guilt afterwards. I actually snuck back into that storehouse and left one hundred rupees there as 'payment'.
I already knew how to read- Grandma had insisted on teaching me and Aryll how to. I admit I'm not too good at writing, though. Living on Outset all my life, I had never needed to learn. But when I discovered that strangers had difficulty understanding my specialised sign language, I did my best to teach myself. I copied any writing I could find. It wasn't exactly a work of art, but then at least I could communicate.
Ok, first letter… that was 'A'… How was that pronounced again? 'A'… Ayy…
Come on, work, work…
"…" Why wouldn't it come? Please, please work… "…a-ah…"
Wait.
Wait.
Did I just… did I say it? I don't know. Maybe I imagined it. But… I'm sure… and I say 'Ah' a lot anyway… like when I fight and stuff…
But that means…
I can talk!
Right! Next is… Oh, come on, I know this… It's… I started biting my thumbnail, desperate to concentrate. I always bite my nails. It's a bad habit, I know, but I can't help it when my nerves get to me. Which, unfortunately, is often. All my nails are jagged and bitten right down to the quick- and then some. My fingertips are always bloody and sore, and it hurts to hold my sword. Linebeck spotted me chewing my nails one day and snatched my hand, inspecting my bleeding fingers. He tutted in that way that parents do when they catch a child displaying some particularly bad habit. I'd pulled my hand away angrily, my face as red as my scarlet fingertips. That's another bad habit of mine- blushing.
I sighed in defeat and glanced down at the scroll. 'B'.
"…Ah" No, that's not right. That was 'A', I wanted 'B'. "…Ah… Ahhh!"
I yelped as the covers were drawn back over my head to reveal a familiar face looking down at me.
"Still awake kid?" Said Linebeck.
I nodded while trying to discretely hide the scroll under my pillow without him seeing it. I looked pointedly at him.
"I'm a grown-up. I don't need sleep." Said Linebeck, waving dismissively. "Hey, what's this?"
And faster than I could blink, Linebeck had reached out and snatched the scroll from beneath my pillow. I let out a cry of protest, and leapt at him, frantically trying to grab it back. Linebeck snorted and pushed me away. Then he began to unravel the scroll.
"Ah!" I gave up and hid my face in my hands, my cheeks flaming with humiliation. I didn't like him reading my work- it was private. My writing, in truth was awful. I can't hold a pen properly, so my letters come out all wobbly and almost illegible. And the neat rows of letters above only belittle my writing even more.
I was expecting Linebeck to laugh, but he didn't. He simply nodded at the scroll, then handed it back to me. I snatched it away, trying to glare at Linebeck, but I just ended up looking like I was pouting. That didn't help my blushing at all.
I pulled the blankets back over my head to cover my furious blush, hugging the scroll to my chest.
"'Night, kid" Said Linebeck "And for God's sake, get some sleep."
I heard him heading to the door. I poked my head out from under the covers unsurely.
"I'm going back on deck for a while." He told me "Oh, and… Good luck with that." He nodded at the scroll that I clutched in my hands.
My eyes widened and I tilted my head to one side, confused. How did he figure it out…? I didn't think I was making that much noise when I was practising…
"Don't look so surprised." Linebeck chuckled. "You underestimate me, kid."
I smiled weakly, then averted my eyes as I felt another rush of blood to my face. Why do I always have to do that? It's so embarrassing.
"Now go to sleep!" Linebeck ordered.
"A-Ah!" Wait!
"What now?" Said Linebeck rudely.
Um… Ok, how to do this… I hadn't practised 'TH' all that much. It was a tricky sound, and it took me a few turns of opening and closing my mouth like a goldfish until I could get into the correct position, with the tip of my tongue touching my top teeth. Right, I was halfway there… Now all I had to do was encourage my voice box to work. I needed a 'H' sound, which I didn't think would be too difficult, as I say 'Hhh' a lot when I'm tired. And as I was saying it I had to bring my tongue back into my mouth…
"…" Come on! This was getting embarrassing, with Linebeck watching me as I struggled with myself. "…H… Th…" I got it! "Th… ah…"
Ok, that was bad. Really bad. It sounded nothing like what I was meaning to say. Maybe I should've learned to walk before I could run- word and syllables were near impossible for me. I felt my cheeks getting even hotter. Oh no, not now, not again… Why do I have to get so flustered all of the time?
Linebeck started to laugh. That only made things worse.
"Ah!" I shouted desperately, my face almost on fire. Stop it!
"Sorry, kid." Said Linebeck through his laughter. He straightened up, composing himself. "What I mean to say is… You're welcome, ok?"
And he Turned and closed the door behind him, the old steps creaking as he made his way back to the deck.
How did…?
But that's impossible. He understood what I was trying to say. That meant… I could talk! Admittedly not very well, but still! I can do this. I know I can do this.
Now where was I…? Oh, right, 'B'…
--
I know Link is probably supposed to be able to talk in the games, but I just decided to experiment a little. I had to have a happy ending, or at least a hopeful one, because I don't want readers to feel cheated.
For those who couldn't understand what Link was trying to say to Linebeck, the answer's in the title!
Did you like it? Hate it? Will you let me know?