flowers for Algernon

chapter 24: progress report 21 may 20

May 20 I would not have noticed the new dishwasher, a boy of about sixteen,
at the corner diner where I take my evening meals if not for the incident of
the broken dishes.
They crashed to the floor, shattering and sending bits of white china
under the tables. The boy stood there, dazed and frightened, holding the
empty tray in his hand. The whistles and catcalls from the customers (the
cries of "hey, there go the profits!" ... "Mazeltov!" ... and "well, he didn't work
here very long ..." which invariably seems to follow the breaking of glass or
dishware in a public restaurant) all seemed to confuse him..'
When the owner carne to see what the excitement was about, the boy
cowered as if he expected to be struck and threw up his anTIS as if to ward
off the blow.
"All right! All right, you dope," shouted the owner, "don't just stand there! ~tGet the broom and sweep that mess up. A broom. , . a broom, you idiot! It's
en ." ~'~ , DANIEL in the kitchen. Sweep up all the pieces."

lIe ' I ~ll KEYES
The boy saw that he was not going to be punished. His frightened expres-
he sion disappeared and he smiled and hummed as he came back with the broom
to sweep the floor. A few of the rowdier customers kept up the remarks,
~n amusing themselves at his expense.

ry
"Here, sonny, over here there's a nice piece behind you ..."

ty
"C'mon, do it again .. ,"
:Ie "He's not so dumb. It's easier to break 'em than to wash 'em ..."
As his vacant eyes moved across the crowd of amused onlookers, he
ce slowly mirrored their smiles and finally broke into an uncertain grin at the
III joke which he obviously did not understand.
ld I felt sick inside as I looked at his dull, vacuous smile, the wide, bright
eyes of a child, uncertain but eager to please. They were laughing at him
IS because he was mentally retarded.
3.t And I had been laughing at him too.
Ie Suddenly, I was furious at myself and all those who were smirking at
IS him. I jumped up and shouted, "Shut up! Leave him alone! It's not his fault
d he can't understand! He can't help what he is! But for God's sake ... he's still
a human being!"
The room grew silent. I cursed myself for losing control and creating a
e scene. I tried not to look at the boy as I paid my check and walked out without
o touching my food. I felt ashamed for both of us.
e How strange it is that people of honest feelings and sensibility, who
1­ would not take advantage of a man born without arms or legs or eyes-how
such people think nothing of abusing a man born with low intelligence. It
I, infuriated me to think that not too long ago I, like this boy, had foolishly
y played the clown.
s And I had almost forgotten.
e I'd hidden the picture of the old Charlie Gordon from myself because
r1 now that I was intelligent it was something that had to be pushed out of my
,t mind. But today in looking at that boy, for the first time I saw what I had been.
I was just like him!
Only a short time ago, I learned that people laughed at me. Now I can
see that unknowingly I joined with them in laughing at myself. That hurts
f most of all.
I have often reread my progress reports and seen the illiteracy, the
1 childish naIvete, the mind of low intelligence peering from a dark room,
through the keyhole, at the dazzling light outside. I see that even in my
dullness I knew that I was inferior, and that other people had something
I lacked-something denied me. In my mental blindness, I thought that it
was somehow connected with the ability to read and write, and I was
sure that if I could get those skills I would automatically have intelligence
too.
Even a feeble-minded man wants to be like other men.
A child may not know how to feed itself, or what to eat, yet it knows of hunger. This then is what I was like, I never knew. Even with my gift of intellec­ i.,' tual awareness, I never really knew.
This day was good for me. Seeing the past more clearly, I have decided
to use my knowledge and skills to work in the field of increasing human
intelligence levels. Who is better equipped for this work? Who else has lived
in both worlds? These are my people. Let me use my gift to do something for
them.
Tomorrow, I will discuss with Dr. Strauss the manner in which I can
work in this area. I may be able to help him work out the problems of
widespread use of the technique which was used on me. I have several good
ideas of my own.
There is so much that might be done with this technique. If I could be
made into a genius, what about thousands of others like myself? What fantas-
tic levels might be achieved by using this technique on normal people? On
geniuses?
There are so many doors to open. I am impatient to begin.