گل برای الگرنون

FLOWERS FOR ALGERNON

A WEEK LATER Carla and I watch as Mr. Waterman makes his way across the lawn and to his car to leave. I hugged him before he left. He was surprised, but didn’t question it, just hugged me back like it was perfectly natural.

I stay outside for a few minutes after he’s left and Carla waits with me. She’s trying to find a way to gently break my already broken heart.

“So—” she begins.

I know what she’s going to say. She’s been gearing up to say it all day. “Please don’t leave me, Carla. I still need you.” Her eyes are on me but I can’t bear to look at her.

She doesn’t deny what I’ve said, just takes my hand in hers.

“If you really, truly need me to stay, I’ll stay.” She squeezes my fingers. “But you don’t need me.” “I’ll always need you.” I don’t try to stop the tears from coming.

“But not like before,” she says gently.

Of course she’s right. I don’t need her to be here with me for eight hours a day. I don’t need constant care. But what will I do without her?

My tears turn into enormous sobs and she holds me in her arms and lets me cry until I reach the end of them.

“What will you do?”

She wipes at my face with the sides of her hands. “I might go back to working in a hospital.” “Did you already tell my mom?” “This morning.”

“What did she say?”

“She thanked me for taking care of you.” I don’t try to hide my scowl.

She holds my chin. “When are you going to find it in your heart to forgive her?” “What she did is not forgivable.” “She was sick, honey. She’s still sick.” I shake my head. “She took my whole life away from me.” Even now, thinking about all the years I’ve lost makes me feel like I’m on the lip of an enormous chasm, like I could fall in and never come back out.

Carla nudges me back to the present. “Not your whole life,” she says. “You still have a lot left.” We go back inside. I follow her around, watching her pack her things for the last time “Did you ever read Flowers for Algernon?” I ask.

“Yes.”

“Did you like it?”

“No. Not my kind of book. Not enough hope in it.” “It made you cry, didn’t it?

She shakes her head no, but then confesses, “OK, yes, like a baby.” We both laugh.