Look Evelyn, Duck Dynasty Wiper Blades. We Should Get Them.: A Collection Of New Essays Read Online Free PDF Page B

rest of my life on the roof rather than face the humiliation of apologising in front of everybody.
    “Don’t make me come up there.”
    I sat down.
     
    It had taken me about three minutes to get up, it took him less than one. He was also wearing sandals so I call bullshit on my sister’s excuse. I panicked, looking for another way down as he stepped off the branch. There was a concrete driveway below me but on the other side of that was a garage. I decided, given enough run-up, I would be able to make it. From there, it would be a simple task to drop onto the neighbouring property fence and escape through their yard. My father edged along the sloping roof towards me. I backed up a bit, ran, and jumped.
     
    I mostly blame the incline as you need a flat area for a decent run up. Also, as I stepped on the edge of the roof and leapt, the gutter gave way, cancelling any propulsion upwards. I flailed. I have a vague recollection of what concrete looks like as it rushes towards you at high speed but I don’t remember the impact.
     
    “David, can you tell me how old you are?”
    “nnn.”
    “Can you try wiggling your fingers for me?”
    “nnn nn.”
    “Ok, you’re going to be fine. We’re in an ambulance on the way to the hospital. Your Dad’s here. Would you like him to sit with you?”
    “nn o.”
     
    I was in surgery for eight hours and in hospital for three months. The right side of my skull had been fractured, shattered really, several fragments were removed from my brain. My collar bone, right arm, six ribs and left foot were also broken but brain trauma was the main concern. I forgot things. Not all things, just some things. Things like bath plugs and rabbits. I had all of my motor skills and could remember the name of every Star Wars character, but I had no idea what a blender was or what a round, orange coloured fruit was called. I knew the colour orange but there was a broken link somewhere. It didn’t concern me that much, I understood that I had forgotten things but I had no idea what things they were until I came across them and then it was just as if I had never known about that particular thing in the first place.
     
    “What’s this thing? Is it a belt?”
    “No, it’s called a leash. It connects to a dog’s collar so you can take the dog for a walk without it running away.”
    “Clever.”
     
    A man with a grey beard and blue glasses visited me regularly in the hospital to play games. His name was Henry. The games mainly consisted of naming the item pictured on cards he held up. He’d pause often and scribble in a notebook. Sometimes he would sing parts of songs and ask me to finish them.
     
    “Bathroom tiles?”
    “Okay. What else is white?”
    “The lamb?”
    “Well yes, but you wouldn’t say Mary’s lamb is as white as the lamb. What else could a lamb be as white as? Something white and cold...”
    “A glass of milk?”
     
    For the first few weeks, I shared a room with another boy my age named Mark. He only had one arm. Apparently he had opened a top loading washing machine lid while it was in spin cycle and reached in to grab an item of clothing. His arm was twisted off at the shoulder. Sometimes when Henry would ask me a question or hold up a picture, Mark would answer for me and say things like, “Oh my god, I can’t believe you don’t know what a turtle is. Everybody knows what a turtle is,” so Henry moved me to a different room by myself.
     
    It was a smaller room, white with no window or television. There was a painting on the wall of a beach at sunset but Henry took it down. I read a lot of books. There wasn’t anything else to do. Henry gave me a highlighter pen and asked me to mark any words I came across that I didn’t know but it was easy to cheat by looking up the words in a dictionary.
     
    Sometimes when Henry visited, three or four other people accompanied him. While Henry and I played games, they stood in a corner watching.  Occasionally he would ask them