Just The Way I Am - Jo Watson Page 0,7

It had been days now, how many I didn’t know, and my mind was still blank, except for those odd flickers of familiarity that I didn’t understand.

“But what if it doesn’t? What if it never comes back and I never know who I am?”

“The police are running your prints and your photo. You will find out who you are. It’s just a matter of time.”

“Time. How much time? How long must I stay here? How long have I been here? And what if they do find out who I am but my memory never comes back and then I never remember my life anyway? What the hell good is that?”

“You cannot think of that now. You have to focus on getting out of here.”

“I want to get out of here! I really, really do.”

“Well, then, you must eat something.” She pushed a pudding cup and a spoon towards me.

I hesitated for a second, considering my options—which were few and far between right now—then grasped the cup reluctantly. The second it was in my hands, a feeling of knowing gripped me. I knew this cup. I knew its shape, and my fingers automatically went to the flap in the top-left corner and pulled. I dug the spoon in and scooped up a gooey, brown mouthful. I could taste it in my mouth before I put it in, and when I did so, my suspicions were confirmed.

“Well done.” Ntethelelo got up and patted the pile of books and magazines on the side table. “I brought you some reading material.” She started walking back towards the door, about to leave me again. “And when I come back, that must be finished.” She pointed at the cup and I gave her a small nod. I watched her leave the room and then heard her talk to someone else in the corridor. It sounded like Beauty.

“Is she still refusing to eat?” Beauty asked.

“I think I got her to eat one of the puddings.”

“Did she snap at you too?”

“Just a little bit.”

“She was rude to me,” Beauty said and, again, I felt terrible.

“I’m sure she’s just scared. Don’t take it personally.”

“I’m so sorry!” I yelled, aiming my voice at the open door. There was a beat and then two shocked-looking faces stuck their heads into the room and stared at me.

“What?” I sat up.

“What were you saying sorry about?” Ntethelelo asked, blinking at me.

“For being rude. I know I’ve been snappy. And I don’t mean to. I am scared.”

Ntethelelo and Beauty exchanged a look then slowly brought their eyes back to mine.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Did you understand what we were saying?” Beauty asked.

“Yes.”

“But we were speaking isiZulu,” Ntethelelo said, as they both walked into the room.

“No, you weren’t, you were speaking English.”

“No. We were speaking isiZulu,” Beauty and Ntethelelo stood by my bed and eyeballed me curiously.

“That’s impossible, I don’t know how to speak isiZulu. Why would I?”

“Unjani?” Ntethelelo said and, without thinking, I answered and told her how I was.

“Ngikhona, ngiyabonga. Wena unjani?” I gasped. “Oh my God. Did I just speak another language?”

Ntethelelo beamed. “Yes, you did. And I’m fine, too, thanks for asking.”

“But . . . how do I know . . . uh, where did I learn . . . uh.”

Beauty tutted. “Now we’re going to have to stop gossiping about you in the corridors.”

“Hey! Why are you gossiping about me?”

“Joking.” She grinned. I think the ice had finally broken between us.

I smiled at the two ladies in front of me, feeling better than I’d felt in a while. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but hearing them talk in the corridor, hearing the language, those bold, expressive sounds, those clicks that echoed, something about it soothed me.

“Nawe idla!” Ntethelelo said, as she and Beauty walked to the door. I picked the pudding cup up and waved it to her.

“Fine, I’ll eat it!”

Moments later, with my stomach full, my eyelids heavy, I closed my eyes again.

CHAPTER 6

When I woke up it was dark outside and, much to my relief, my dove friend was still there. I sat up and put on the lights, and as I did, the dove turned his head and looked at me.

“Hello.” I waved at him.

He cocked his head to the side, as if he really was looking at me. He probably was; did you know that doves are incredibly intelligent and social animals?

“I would introduce myself, but I don’t know my name,” I said, and waited for a response from him. And

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