The next task for the clean little boy was to have his hair brushed for the first time in nearly a year. Miss Ginny sat him on his bed and stood behind him with a comb and a hairbrush. She spoke calming words to him and she began to run the brush down the back of his head. Almost immediately it caught in a tangle. Roger arched his back and gasped. He pulled away from her and scrambled across the bed. He sat in the corner by the wall hugging himself. "Roger, sweetie." Miss Ginny cooed. "I didn't mean to hurt you. Oh, come here love. I'll be more gentle, alright? It's just that your hair is so snarly and tangled. Once we brush through it today, it won't ever hurt like this again, I promise." Roger stared at her, wondering whether or not she was being honest, and then slowly crept back closer to her. "Good boy," she murmured. She picked through the matted hair with the comb next to get the hairs apart.
It took near to three hours to get his hair completely untangled.
Roger was very sleepy by the time she was finished, but his mind wouldn't allow his eyes to close. It was racing and racing, never stopping long enough to form a thought that he could totally understand. His mind was still back on the island, endlessly running through the jungle. Miss Ginny looked at all the hair that had fallen out during the detangling. It probably could've given a bald baby an entire wig. Miss Ginny made note of this to put in her records of the boy, but she simply threw the clumps away into the garbage can. Roger's back was slumping. He looked exhausted. She gently leaned him down onto the mattress and pulled the covers back. Just as she was about to tuck him in, Roger sat bolt upright and hopped off the bed. He crouched in a defensive stance and stared at her fearfully. There was no way he was getting in that bed. She tried to catch him, but he started sniffling.
Sniffling meant that a fit was coming on.
Roger didn't like to cry. It made him look weak and he knew it. So instead of crying or feeling sad, Roger had taught himself to be angry and scream to cover up the tears. That's exactly what he did on the island-he even abandoned speech itself and communicated in a shriek or a savage call when dealing with the others. But not Jack. With Jack he used words. Roger watched as Miss Ginny tried to extend her hands to him. He started the screaming. She drew back a little, not sure why he was acting like this. "Roger!" she gasped when he held the garbage can over his head as if to throw it at her. When she covered her head with her hands, he froze.
Why was he doing this?
Roger looked around in shame and shock. He slowly lowered the garbage can and sat down on the ground. He drew his knees up to his chest, hugging them. The tears just fell now. No anger, no screaming. He felt sad, and that was that. He wanted to stop having outbursts like that, to be a normal boy, to have someone love him, to have Jack keep his promise about not forgetting him. Miss Ginny got down on her hands and knees and crawled over to him slowly so that she wouldn't be intimidating by standing over him. Roger hid his face from the woman. She gently wrapped her arms around him and pulled him close. While he was shaking, he could feel that she was too. "It's alright," she whispered into his hair. "I'm here…I'm here…it's Miss Ginny. It's only me." She began to rock him slowly. Roger liked this feeling. He always enjoyed the feeling of being swayed back and forth. Miss Ginny did this for a long time.
Once they were both calmed down enough, she carried him over to his bed. While he sat on the mattress, Miss Ginny began measuring out a liquid into a teaspoon. She had the bottle in the pocket of her apron, and the little spoon had come from one of the high cabinets in the room. She held it out to Roger. "This is going to relax you," she explained in a whisper. "It'll make you fall fast asleep." Roger eyed it, knowing it wasn't going to taste good. "Roger, you need sleep." she continued shakily. "You're so tired, I can tell. You're completely exhausted. Oh, please just take this. It's for your own good." Roger felt so awful. He'd scared her. It was what he'd intended to do in the first place, but after she'd shown him so much kindness…he didn't want it to be like this. He leaned forward a little and opened his mouth. Miss Ginny put the spoon in slowly and withdrew it from his lips. Roger swallowed the bitter medicine and shuddered.
After cleaning up, Miss Ginny tried laying him down once more. She pulled the covers over his body gently. Roger felt so limp, yet very good too. He felt like his mind was slowing down a bit. She tucked the blankets around him and made sure he was comfortable. His eyes closed. For the first time in weeks, he was falling asleep happy. For the first time in days, he was actually falling asleep. Miss Ginny bent down and lovingly kissed his pale cheek. Roger could see in his mind: his own self running through the jungle nonstop, then simply jogging, coming out of the jungle, slowing to a sprint…stepping carefully over some rocks…walking…sitting down on the edge of a rocky cliff…staring down at a boulder that was now resting in the waves.