Charlotte
***
"Good morning."
She looked at me, but had nothing to say yet. It was as if the intervening night had made her distrustful of me again. I wondered what a night in this place would be like for a child like her.
"I've been thinking about you. I've got some ideas. I was thinking, what if we go out of the city-"
The effect was instantaneous.
"No!" she shouted, hands balled into fists, eyes round.
"I'm sorry?"
"No!" she was gasping for air, she was that terrified by the concept. "I can't leave the city! I can't go out there!"
"It's ok, you can stay here, no problem. You'll stay right here."
But she curled into a ball and hid for the rest of the session. Eventually, I got tired of waiting, and left.
It seemed we had gone backwards. She wasn't talking to me anymore, she wasn't communicating in any way, she wasn't even acknowledging my presence. But, in one sense, the session had been productive: now I knew that going out of the city was a terrifying prospect for her. Perhaps it was the thought of wild humans. Perhaps she had recently arrived from a conflict zone. I frowned. She was a puzzle alright. I was going to have to think outside the box.
***
When I visited again, she was watching for me.
"I didn't know if you were coming," she said before I'd even sat down, "I… I thought I might have scared you off."
"Well you didn't." I said.
"I'm sorry I yelled at you."
"That's ok. You were upset. I can understand that."
"So it's ok? Me talking to you?" I pressed, "You still want me to come?"
"Yes please. It's not so lonely with you." Her voice was desolate.
"Ok." I said softly, wanting nothing more than to hold her in my arms.
"Well, what are we talking about today?" I said instead.
She thought for a moment, but not as if searching for a topic. More like she was deciding on one. Maybe she'd been thinking up safe topics during the night.
"The weather," she said finally.
"Ok. It's a nice day today, don't you think?"
"Yes, it is a nice day," she said, as if she was reciting language lessons.
"We're lucky, it's been nice for a few days now."
"Yes, that is lucky."
"Still cool in the mornings, but getting almost too hot now."
She was silent, confused. And then I realized she hadn't been outside of the air conditioning in days. She was talking about the weather as she could see it through the widow.
She stiffened as I got up but I kept my movements relaxed. I walked over to the window and opened it, putting my hand outside and soaking my hand in sunlight.
"Don't you think it's hot?" I asked, glancing at her.
She was still crouched on the floor, but watching my hand intently. Centimeter by centimeter, she stood up, sliding her back up the wall, and walked over.
"Yes, that is hot," she said quietly, turning her hand over and over in the sunlight.
We gabbed mindlessly about the weather, and where another child would quickly have been bored, she kept up her side of the conversation, just to have someone to talk to.