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Her er du: NRK > Undervisning > Språk og reiser > Engelsk | Oppdatert 31.10.2001 19:01 |
| SO MUCH TO TELL YOU – part five Publisert 31.10.2001 19:00 av John MarsdenMusic: Pat Metheny "Precious Jewel" MAY 18 Mr. Lindell is here! I just saw him walking down the corridor with Dr. Harvey. He was quite a way off but he saw me and waved. I stopped and gaped, and then smiled at him. A nurse who was going past nearly fainted. She said: "I didn’t know you could smile." Well, I didn’t either. But what’s he doing here? What’s going on? It’s too exciting! 5 P.M. Mr. Lindell came and talked to me. He said he’d called on my mother first, then he'd come to the hospital. He said it’s O.K. and I’ll go home tomorrow and to school on Tuesday. He gave me a hug and I started crying. Then Dr. Harvey came in and said that it seemed like I was making more progress than he’d realized, and that I should keep going to school. MAY 24 Well, here I am in Prep again. We’ve been back just over twenty-four hours. Cathy got in just after me. Her mother was with her. It was good to see Cathy. I couldn’t help but smile and she looked really pleased when I did. She introduced me to her mother, who was so nice, and invited me to stay next midterm. I just blushed and smiled and looked away. I wonder if she meant that – about staying with them? Then, Lisa. After school today I was in the dorm on my own when she came in. She stopped by my bed and said: "You O.K.? You need anything?" I shook my head and she smiled and said: "I really just wanted to tell you that I’m glad you’re back, O.K.?" It was good to get away from my mother and stepfather again too. The last few days of the holidays back at their place were terrible. I found myself wishing that my father hadn’t made his big mistake in that dark garage, and that he had got her like he’d planned. I still don’t know what to do about him – about my father, I mean. I don’t think I could ever visit him. But sometimes I think about writing him a letter. Nobody understood him, least of all my mother. He just went mad because he’d worked so hard to get everything and then she was taking it all off him and walking away with it, just like that JUNE 6 Today’s session with Mrs. Ransome, the counselor, was quite different. She said I needed to work out my feelings about my parents and myself and until I did that I wouldn’t make much progress. She said parents are so important in a kid’s life that if the kid feels rejected by her parents it’s hard for her then not to think that everyone in the world is going to reject her. I was pretty churned up by this. She went on and on and, of course, I didn’t answer. What I did do, though, was the first active thing I’d ever done in there .... I took a thick felt pen and drew a picture on her nicely painted wall – a head behind bars. "Is that your father?" she asked, quite gently, but I shook my head. "Is that you?" and I shook my head again. I couldn’t figure out any way to show her but after a while she got it anyway. "Is it both of you?" and I nodded. Music: Pearl Jam "Wishlist" JUNE 7 Well, today was my birthday. The worst thing was that everyone knew. But there was some nice things about it. They sang me "Happy Birthday" as soon as I woke up in the morning, and they all had presents to give. To my amazement I got a birthday present from Cathy’s mother. But the biggest thing was the letter that came with it. It seems like they’re serious about me staying there for the midterm break. She said she’s writing to my mother, to get her approval. God, as if my mother would mind! She’ll be delighted to get me out of the way again. Had another session with Mrs. Ransome. I had a question ready for her. I had it written down on a piece of paper. My question was: "Can you get me the address for my father, please?" I didn’t know whether I was ever going to write to him, or anything like that, but I thought it would be good to have ... in case. And besides, I just wanted to know where he was. Music: Pearl Jam "Not for You" JUNE 15 Today in English we did a scene from a book where a girl gets a chance to relive a day from her childhood. She chose a happy day, her twelfth birthday. I sat there thinking how I’d like to see a replay of a day in my life. Only one day in a lifetime of days. In fact not even the whole day – just a few minutes. This day happened just after my mother had been awarded half my father’s money and my father had found out that a man who worked for him had swindled him out of all the money in his business at the same time as he was having an affair with my mother. My father nearly went off his head. He was so angry he could have killed that man. The day I’d choose is April 14, at seven o’clock. The news was just starting on the radio, as we drove up to the house. My mother got out at the steps; Oh God, how I remember. "Can I put the car away?" I asked. She let me sometimes. "Yes, be careful," she said. I slid over to the driver’s seat. I started the engine then searched for the headlight switch. Nearly couldn’t find it in the darkness, but then I did. Switched them on. Drove around the corner, into the garage. Switched the lights off. My last moments as a person. Switched the engine off. Quiet in the garage. A ticking sound, as the car cooled down. Shadows, very large. A noise somewhere. A dark shape, suddenly moving. An arm? Through the window. Attacking me? No, still safe for an instant. Then the arm moving so fast. With violence. Something thrown, wetting my face. Then just screaming and pain. I remember that no scream was loud enough. Burning and grabbing and screaming, wanting to tear the skin from my face, tear my face off. But however loudly I screamed, it didn’t make it any better. It took so long for anyone to come, anything to happen. It took a lifetime. No, a death time. What happened? What did I do? Did I make a noise? Everyone in the class staring at me. For a long moment we’re all locked into stares at each other. Then they turn back to their books, embarrassed. They'll talk about it later. JUNE 16 In, Prep tonight Lisa sent me a note. She wrote: "You don’t look happy lately. What’s going on?" I wrote "I don’t know." Then it sort of developed into one of those long backwards- and-forward letter things, that the other kids have all the time during Prep. It’s the closest I’ve ever come to actually talking. LISA: Is anyone giving you a hard time? ME: No. – Do you mind my asking you these questions? – No, it’s O.K. – Have you been feeling bad. Like. worse than usual? – Yes, I think so. – Do you know why? – Yes. No. I’m not sure. – Are you worried that I’ll tell the others, if you say anything to me? – No. – Is it to do with your face and your parents and all that? – Yes, I suppose, my father mainly. – Do you hate him? – No. I suddenly realized that I didn’t hate him at all. Tears started running down my face; it seemed like some sort of relief to know that. I don’t hate him. I feel sorry for him. I’m scared about what might be happening to him. Music: Radiohead "Paranoid Android" Vocabularygape – måpe, stirre/stiremidterm – ferie halvvegs i skoleterminen reject – avvise churned up – oppøst, opprørt behind bars – bak lås og slå approval – godkjennelse/samtykke award - tildele After the programme1. References to her father crop up at regular intervals in her journal entries. What are her feelings towards him? What has happened to make her feel this way?2. What indictaions do we get that she is gradually coming to grips with herself and her situation? What has contributed to this development? |
31.10.2001 19:01 SO MUCH TO TELL YOU – part six 31.10.2001 19:00 SO MUCH TO TELL YOU – part five 31.10.2001 18:59 SO MUCH TO TELL YOU – part four 31.10.2001 18:58 SO MUCH TO TELL YOU – part three 31.10.2001 18:57 SO MUCH TO TELL YOU – part two 31.10.2001 18:56 SO MUCH TO TELL YOU – part one 31.10.2001 17:58 Urban Indians 31.10.2001 17:51 Powwow on the Reservation 31.10.2001 17:43 Ancestral Voices 28.08.2001 08:12 On the Information Highway |
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