My God! It's Full of Speech!

You OK?

Maybe - not sure if I want to talk to you.

..

You said it would be OK and now it's just a mess ... all of it fallen apart like ... my head is so full ... I can't think of anything. You might as well have killed us all.

That's just being over-dramatic. No one died today - it was not even close. We're writing a book not fighting a war. We were arguing over where to put the punctuation marks - the chords - nothing about violence. Ow! What was that for?

You mentioned violence and I just thought it needed some. And now the look on your face is just so funny.

Thanks for that. I was going to ask if we were cool but now I think that you should ask me that.

Well - are we?

...

Probably but I'm not sure why we should be.

...

I wish it would carry on raining like this for ever. I love it like this, all the noise, white noise is it? Well anyway, all this sound - it seems to blot out everything else, all those damned songs in my head and all the little pinches of embarrassing conversation I had over the last few days. Sod it - I can't even remember what we said that made you come out here to apologise.

I didn't apologise.

I think you did.

I think YOU just said you couldn't remember what it was.

I lied. I lie a lot. I might have lied that I like the rain.

I know you do. I can tell.

You cannot. You cannot tell anything about other people. All the non-spoken stuff just goes overs your head. You are missing something - a body-language/speech stress gene, the ability to work out how other people think. You don't imagine that any of us can think differently to you.

That's normal for everybody surely?

No it's bloody not. You're a freak.

...

I do know what YOU think. I can tell. I've known since we were kids.

We're still kids now.

You know what I mean. I know when you lie because of that thing with your ear and your hair. I know when you are sad but don't ask me to tell you how I know. It's some sort of Jedi thing - a field - an aura all of that new-age rubbish.

Yeah and I know you know because I can tell all the signs when you do know things or are embarrassed by something. Mum and dad think you're weird. Mum even got one of her old medical books out the other day but she thinks what you have is something new and not in the books yet.

That's horrible.

Why?

You and your mum have me down as some sort of medical specimen. I'll wake up tomorrow and you'll be both leaning over me with a gauze soaked in Chloroform ready to stuff me in a giant jar of formaldehyde.

You got us there. Roll over Napoleon. I'm going to knock you out.

You think I need to go to the docs?

Maybe! You have been getting weirder lately. Like something has happened. And I can't see what it is. But I'm not going to bother any more. It's your problem. Go away now I'm bored.

That's not fair. I know you are joking and yet when idiots at school say it I just get confused.

Just do what they say. If you treat everything as genuine rather than ironic or sarcastic of any of those stupid other 'ics' that make everything such a pain, you won't go wrong. Unless it's a teacher I suppose. ... I want to know when I'm going to die.

WHY DO YOU SAY THINGS LIKE THAT? Do you hate me or love me or what?

I love you. You are the best friend I have. Honest no 'ics' The thing is, just at the moment I want to know when I am going to die. I know I never can know and maybe when I get older I won't be bothered or wouldn't want to know. At the moment however, I'm a kid and I'm clever and I want to know things and not just boring things but to pick out the subtleties of life. Your problem means I cannot ask you for help and everyone else are just silly kids.

What about your parents? They know things - they're arty and subtle and aren't they the best friends you have rather than me?

There you are. Proof of your idiocy again. But thinking about it is that just a cliche of a cliche? Like U and Non-U. As something becomes a cliche we use potential future cliches to describe them and so the cycle continues, a never-ending trail of idiocy and unknowledge. You are right of course. One of them is borderline psychotic and the other is so laid back it's debatable whether he's even awake yet. I curse all that money. Mum was a scientist - did you know?

...

Um... I think so.

Not just your boring old white-coat-and-test-tube-scientist. She was into big stuff, way-out physics and mathematics as proof of reality. She sometimes raves on about some deep theory that she says she proved and kept secret because it would change the world for ever. Dad worked with her as well. They worked at this big atomic place in the fifties and then they left because all the research was on bombs and nuclear power; being hippies they wouldn't really like being involved in that. And anyway the group made them much more money.

Why have you suddenly started telling me all this?

One - because I've grown up and two because I think you are not far behind me though maybe we'll have to pass you off as a robot rather than as a human being. Shall I teach you about the soft bits of thinking?

Like understanding poetry and the stuff that has no use.

IT DOES HAVE USE. IT STOPS YOU GOING MAD. Bread alone etcetera. Read some and see what you are missing.

I have read some. That book you gave me last Christmas was great in a rhythmic and rhyming way but it just meant nothing. Don't start shouting again. It was just gibberish.

...

[Sigh] It means whatever it means. I don't understand all of it, even a lot of it but see if you can catch the beauty of it and link it to the words. You might see something more. I bet you understand all the workings of that tree over there. I don't but it doesn't stop it being beautiful. You don't have to understand trees to think they are nice. What do you think about trees? No mention of Xylem and Phloem.

I love trees. I think if aliens ever come here the strangest things they will see will be trees. Look at them all together and what do they look like? really looking at them is like saying a familiar word over and over again until it sounds weird. I love trees.

Thank God for that.

You don't believe in God.

Neither do you. Why do you bother going to church?

Because we always did. Dad made me promise to keep going when he went away.

Write to him and tell him you aren't going any more.

I want to do bell ringing.

Why for God's sake - sorry - for pity's sake?

Because it's pure maths and I like the sound. I want to program music but I can't.

I think you are secretly a religious nut.

I'm really not. It's just comforting because it's quiet and relaxing.

And what about all those people who 'really' believe? All that shouting and Praise De Lord stuff? You'd hate that. Give it up. Come back and rehearse with the rest of us.

You still want me after all this abuse?

Why ever not? Machine-like minds play good bass. Bugger! The rain is stopping. All that stuff is seeping back in. Talk to me.

What about?

Bell Ringing - Idiot!