Teach Me To Wait
I took a deep breath, waiting outside of James' door. Was I really ready to talk to him again? Either way I have to. It's my job to teach him and help him. I slowly pulled open the door.
"Hi, James." I smile softly and sit in the rolling chair beside James' bed. Here he is again, sitting in the corner with knees to his chest. But this time he had on a pair of khaki shorts and a yellow t-shirt that read "Camp Wonkey Donkey".
James looked up when I sat down, as if he just realized I was there. "Oh, hi Dr. Garcia."
"You can call me Carlos if you want to, remember?"
"I like Dr. Garcia better."
Okay, so the kid likes formally addressing people. I could live with that.
"Okay, then, I'm going to need to get a little more information for your records, and then I'll start discussing stuff you'll be doing and learning with me, got it?"
James silently nodded. Was it just me or did James seemed a little more closed in and quiet?
"Okay, so I need things like height, weight, original hair & eye color, blood type, and any other information you haven't told me. Also," I pulled out a small plastic cup and blushed. "You need to pee in this cup." James took a hold of the cup and examined it.
"What are you gonna do with my pee?"
I blushed again. We were yet again caught in another awkward topic. "Nothing. Well, not me at least. Whichever doctors are in the lab next to the bathroom will take it out of the cupboard and do...tests to it." James raised an eyebrow again, but nodded in response.
"Okay." James breathed out quietly. "I am 6'1'' and I weigh I don't know, like, 60 pounds?"
I looked him up and down. A kid my age that big with such muscles, was most definetely not 60 pounds. "Okay, remind me to teach you measurement and the metric system and what not first. I would say you're, I guess, 170? 180 at the most?"
James looked offended, yet confused. Words like 'metric' and 'measurement' might not ring a bell to him. After all, James was locked up in a hospital room without any teachers for all of his life.
"Hey! I'm not fat you know! Look at these washboard abs!" James exclaimed, and to prove it...oh my god. James lifted up his shirt, and yes in fact he had nice washboard abs, and started dancing around flexing his muscles. Maybe he was the slightest bit crazy...
I laughed it off, kind of nervously. I gently tugged his shirt down and signaled him to sit down. "No, no. That's a good weight for someone your age. You see there's three groups: underweight, average range, and overweight. And there's also perfect average." James blinked at me, he wasn't getting anything out of this. "Listen James, average is an estimate...or a summary of every number in the group. How you get the average is you add all of the numbers together and then divide it by the number of numbers you have. Like, let's say we find the average of the numbers 5, 3, and 7. 3 plus 7 plus 5 is 15. There are 3 numbers. So, 15 divided by 3 is..." I pointed to him, prompting him to say the answer.
Let's just say I didn't get the answer I wanted.
James looked at me for a minute, and I thought he was thinking hard, and just as I thought the breakthrough was coming...
"What's 'divided' mean?"
I sighed. Maybe I should talk to him about the overall teaching situation first. "Listen, James, this might be confusing at first, and it's supposed to be. It's hard taking in things like this. That's why I'm here. First we got to start with the basics, reading, writing & drawing, numbers-"
"I'm not stupid, I know how to read and write and count. I have to write observations in a notebook everyday."
"-I know, but-wait, what? You already know the basics?" I asked curiously. I thought know one had taught him.
James nodded and lay back on the hospital bed, probably bored out of his mind. "Of course. I read the posters and name tags. I hear how people pronounce things when reading. I study the clock. It's actually really easy to self learn. But...I'm still at a 2nd grade level. reading's confusing for me." James admitted, full of shame and blushing.
"That's alright." I whispered. This was obviously a touchy subject for him. "Back to basic information. What's your height and weight again?"
"I'm 6'1'' and apparently 180 pounds. I'm not sure about my bloodtype-and I'm not letting you get some of it-, my hair is originally more hazel than brown, my eyes have always been hazel, my dick is 10 inche-"
"Whoa, whoa!" I interrupted. "That isn't, um, necessary for the records."
"You said any information I know."
"Well, that's not what's needed right now, okay? By the way, did you measure it or something?" Just what I needed, another awkward conversation with James. "Who does that kind of stuff?"
"I do. It gets boring in here, you know?" James said, not ashamed at all. "And since I told you, why don't you tell me?"
I shifted, a little uncomfortable. Dr. DeLouise would not like to hear about this. Yeah I can imagine it now, Dr. DeLouise asking, "What did you teach James today?" And me saying, "Oh, not much, we were just discussing the length of each other's dicks." Yeah, no. But the thought was kind of funny. Without knowing, I laughed out loud.
James coughed. "Is something funny about that? Tell me." He insisted, staring me down with those beautiful eyes. I couldn't find my voice for a second, so I shook my head. Leave it to my 16 year old pupil to make me shy and awkward.
"Uh...8 inches?" I guessed, not really one to measure myself. "Maybe 9." James sat up in interest, disbelief.
"Huh. I was thinking you'd be like, 11 inches. You being Latino, and all." I was about to teach him the whole not being racist thing, but it could also be a compliment. I glanced at the clock. It was 3:00 sharp.
"Well, great talk, James...I got to go now. I'll go turn in your official hospital records. See you tomorrow." I rushed again, walking towards the door. I paused to smile at James. "And maybe leave out our discussion about our dicks from your notebook, okay?" I walked out, feeling really happy as I heard James' soft laughter as I left.
Notebook:
Tuesday-
Today was my second day seeing Carlos. He looked cute today again. Underneath his doctor jacket thing, I could see a batman t-shirt. I approve. Nurse Landra used to give me comics, and batman was my favorite. And he gladly didn't mention the fact that I called him cute yesterday. I should've kept my mouth shut. I always do things without thinking. Just like that kid, Percy Jackson, in the book Landra used to read to me. She started that book right before she left, so I don't know what happens.
Back to observations. I have a feeling Carlos thinks I'm stupid because I didn't go to school. I told him I could read and write, but he changed subjects. I don't think he believes me. I hope next time he sees me we talk about something other than dicks and basic information. Oops. He told me not to mention the conversation about dicks. Well no one bothered to give me an eraser, so oh well.
I wish Carlos wouldn't rush away. I like talking to him because he's the same age as me and is the closest thing to a friend I have. But by the way he runs away from me, I think I'll always just be a patient to him.
No one will love me again.
-James Diamond
Aw, poor James :( And the dicks...XD Please review.