Stronger than Words

Stronger than Words: Chapters 28-35

CHAPTER 28

"You want me to film you?" Dalton says. "Like about your stroke, and learning to speak again?"

"Yes." I force a smile. I'm not sure about this, but Dalton adopted Wheels, and it's the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me. And I just watched his work, which is thoughtful and professional. Maybe he was right when he said my story could help other people. And even if it can't, even if we just do this casually, talking to the camera will be good practice.

"Are you sure?"

Nodding, I cross the room to the studio area and sit down in the chair. I toss my hair back over my shoulders and turn to face the camera he's got mounted on a tripod a few feet away.

"All right," Dalton says slowly, like he's still waiting for me to change my mind. "Let me put Wheels in the bedroom so I can focus totally on you."

My cheeks redden a little. I know Dalton means in a professional way, but still, no boy has ever focused totally on me. He turns on the overhead lights and then reaches down to grab the kitten who is butting his head against one of my shoes.

While Dalton puts Wheels away, I check my reflection in the reverse camera of my phone, surprised at the way the lights smooth out the unevenness of my skin. I look a little washed out, but not too bad. "Just practice," I remind myself. "Hi. My am Mackenzie Craig," I say slowly. Biting my lip, I try again. "My... name is Mackenzie Craig."

Dalton reappears from his bedroom. "Hey, wait for the cameraman," he teases. "Oh, and in case it isn't completely clear, this is just for us. To see how you feel about being on film. I would never use any footage of you without your permission, okay?"

I nod. "I know." And I do. It hasn't been that long since Dalton first asked to interview me, but a lot has changed as far as how much I trust him.

He trains the camera on me and locks it into position. Then he rolls a chair over and takes a seat behind it. "Okay, we're just going to talk. Pretend we're having lunch or coffee. Look at me. Try to forget the camera is even there."

I nod.

"What's your name?" Dalton asks.

"Mackenzie Craig."

"How old are you, Mackenzie?"

"I am...eighteen."

"What happened to you on April twenty-first?"

"I went to...debate contest." I flash back to the YouTube video, to the way I went from seeming in control to collapsing to the ground. "And headache. Then...stroke."

"You had a stroke? That's very uncommon for people your age, right?"

"It is..." I frown as I search for the right qualifier. "Mostly uncommon."

"Do you know what caused it?"

I fidget slightly in the chair. "I fell...and a tear...artery." I point at my neck.

"You tore an artery in your neck, and that led to the stroke?" Dalton asks.

"Yes."

"What happened after the stroke?"

I roll my eyes. "Lots of hospital. And doctors. And nurses."

"And what happened to your speech?"

"They call it..." I pause, furrow my brow. "Aphasia," I say finally.

"Broca's aphasia, right?" Dalton says. "Where you have trouble speaking and writing but no major issues reading or understanding others' speech?"

"Yes."