Becoming the Story (15 page)

The season of militant shyness begins.

I haven’t seen you in a while. Have you
overcome your shyness yet?

Not yet. Have you overcome your
shortness?

She does not say this thought aloud, and she
must admit, this is a drawback to being shy. Fido is high
maintenance sometimes.

She quickly discovers that there are limits
to how militant shyness can be. The strongest expression of
in-your-face shyness goes something like this: “I am
 
shy
and damn it, if anyone tries to tell
me not to be, or says anything about it at all, I am going to tell
them…
nothing,
 
and how will
they like
 
that?
 
And if anyone tries to change me, I swear, I
will reach into my bedside table drawer and pull out my
 
crossword puzzle book
and silently gnaw
on my pencil until the eraser is just a tattered, rubbery blob of
debris. Then they’ll be
 
sorry
!
Ya-ha-ha-ha-ha!”

Well, she had never said there wouldn’t be
paradoxes.

The changes occur within. She no longer
accepts what she has been told – about anything. She begins to
think and trust her own observations. The world becomes a more
interesting place. She studies hard. She discovers writing as a way
to explore the hidden depths beneath spoken words.

She focuses on what she loves: words with
their cadences and rhythms, the books that pull her into another
place and time. Academic subjects she had always thought were
boring become fascinating, once she gives them a chance.

It happens gradually, and she almost does
not notice it at first.

Until one autumn day when she is taking a
walk. A solitary leaf catches the wind and drifts down, slowly
rocking back and forth. As she watches she has a startling
thought:

I am happy.

All of the struggle. But all it takes for a
moment of happiness is a leaf.

Not every day is perfect, and Fido is
inconvenient sometimes. But everything has changed. If she had only
known that she did not have to change who she was, she could have
focused on what she loved; she would have been happier.

Sometimes, she hears parents talking about
their children in worried tones: they are too quiet, they think too
much before they act; something, they are sure, is wrong with them;
it must change.

Make them stop, she thinks. Tell them that
badgering their kids and forcing them to be “normal” is hurting
them and making everything worse.

Tell them, Fido.

She imagines Fido stirring and stretching.
He is a quiet dog.
 
Maybe
someday,
 
he seems to say. A high
wind whistles outside, but inside it is warm and still. In her
imagination, Fido closes his eyes.

Someday.