CADO [DISCONTINUED]

= Ch 17: A Light! =

We stare at the floor of La Casita Rosa.

"I know you can," I insist. "One last try."

"I'm trying," Daniel mumbles. In his hands, a blurred, shapeless mass appears.

"Yes! That's it —"

It vanishes with a distinct *pop*. He frowns. "It's useless. It just won't."

"Well, you made a sound with it. That's something!"

"I did?"

"You did! It made a noise when it disappeared."

He groans, rolling back to sit on the ground. "I didn't mean to make that. I just don't get it."

"Ah, it's okay. It takes time."

He stares at the floor.

"Hey, what's up?" I ask.

He flinches, blinking. "Huh?"

"Something's on your mind. You keep zoning out."

"Ah." He traces circles on his leg. "I'm curious. Why do you make stories?"

"Hm?" Ah, he's probably trying to change the subject.

His circle-making accelerates. "I mean, you're always wearing that pirate costume."

"Right! I just... I don't know. I like stepping into someone else's shoes and walking a few miles in them." I tug at the collar of my jacket, unable to keep a smile off of my face. "I can build worlds, and create characters, and see everything play out. It's even better here, with — ah, I'm rambling. Did that make any sense?"

"Yeah, a lot."

I tilt my head. "Was that all?"

"I'm alright, I promise."

I nod. If he doesn't want to talk about whatever's bugging him, I can respect that.

"Alright! Now, back to the —"

"I don't think I can learn this," he blurts out.

I jump a bit. "Woah there, hold on. Anyone can be taught if they truly want to be taught."

"But —"

I cut him off. "The only time you can't learn something is when there isn't enough time, isn't a good enough teacher, or isn't enough willpower on your half. We have infinite time," I hold up one finger, "and you are clearly invested in learning this." I hold up two fingers. "So it's me who's probably the issue. I'm not a good teacher, but I'm the only teacher you've got, so I have to be better. I'm going to try a different approach, and we'll figure this out as a team. Okay? Together."

He stares back at me, processing this. Finally, he just nods. "...Yeah. Together."

Phew. I break away and look at nothing, holding my hands so that they don't visibly shake. Eye contact is exhausting.

"What usually helps you?" I ask.

His finger traces circles on the tabletop. "Visual. Visuals, I mean."

Hm. The gears in my mind churn. He's a visual learner who's very good at creating familiar things. So far, I've shown him how to do everything. What if he envisions it, though? Does this count as visual learning? Well, it's worth a shot.

"Hey, Daniel," I ask, "Do you have a lamp in your room? Back at home, before you were here."

He nods.

"I want you to close your eyes and imagine it. Imagine it sitting on the floor," I slap the floor between us, "Right here!"

"Okay...?"