Wasting in the Rain

Chapter 5: Lisa

I was marveled by Rachel's desire to learn. Not only that, but she considered me a friend. I wasn't flattered, but it gave me hope that she might be able to reconnect with people and gain trust from herself and them.

The next day, I brought her a workbook I had purchased from a local teacher's supplies shop. It had activities that she could learn from that were on the kindergarten level. It had the numbers from one to twenty, the months of the year, and generic terms for things she might find in her environment. These terms included things to find in a kitchen, a bedroom, a bathroom, et cetera. I hoped that she would be able to enhance her vocabulary and sentence structure.

She smiled as she saw me walk in with the book and pointed at it. She had already had her breakfast for the day.

"What paper?"

"It's a book."

"B-uh-k. What do?"

"It's going to help you learn words."

"Wuh-er-ds."

"Words."

"How write?"

I gave her a sheet of paper and a pen and told her the letters to the word. She wrote it out and read it back to me.

"Words."

"Very good, Rachel."

I flipped open the book and went to the first page. It had pictures of things one would find in a bedroom.

Rachel instantly pointed to one of the objects.

"Bed."

"That's right, Rachel. Very good."

I pointed to some other simple words, like seat, sheet, and chest. She read them in her mixed pronunciations, but pointed to the chairs in her room that we sat in.

"Seat."

"Very good."

We went over a few verbs, like sit, sleep, and rest. Through our exercises, she wrote down words on her paper and said them aloud to me a few times, to which she was congratulated.

We also went over a few words for bathroom usage, like toilet, bathroom, toilet paper, soap, water, and towel. She also learned about clothes to wear, like shirt, pants, shorts, underwear, and hat.

As we went over the words, she'd write them down and point to them if an example was present in the room. She pointed to my shirt and pants, and I pointed to her pajamas that she wore. We went into her small bathroom and I showed her the bathtub, the toilet, the toilet paper, and the other things she'd never known a name for.

I prepared to leave at lunchtime, but she wanted me to stay for a bit. When her lunch came in, she had questions about what was on the plate. She learned apple slices, milk, and sandwich.

When I got my things gathered and ready, she looked uncomfortable as a nurse came in to give her some vaccinations. I helped her through them, but she continued to look upset or sick. Both the nurse and myself told her to eat the food, and that it would help her feel better. She did slowly, and I left her alone, figuring that it was an upset stomach that would pass.

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I came back with her dinner. One of the nurses had called ahead and said that her stomach problems were persisting, and that she should have something light and bland, but strong enough to give her sustenance. The kitchen staff gave me her chicken noodle soup and a glass of water, and I went into her room.

Rachel was rocking herself on the floor and clutching her stomach. I put the food on the table, and she barely glanced at it. I sat down on the floor with her in her corner after I put the food down.